Not So Book Review

Laut Bercerita by Leila S. Chudori.

Yes, you read that right. I just finished the book. Not too long ago, just a few countless minutes before I decided I wanted to write about it. Even though I have no idea what to say.

The reason I don’t know what to write is simple. I ended the book the same way the book ended me. Hollow. It left a deep, aching hole that makes me want to pick it up all over again just to relive Biru Laut’s life. But also, I don’t want to, because I might get dehydrated from crying. The story is so visual that it makes you feel like you’re there with them, running from the intel, locked in the cell, or simply standing by the beach with them together, discussing the books they read or the next move they want to make or even feel the same betrayal they feel.

So, this is more of a reflection than a review and totally not a critique. But maybe, by the end of this, you’ll want to read it too, so that we can cry (and maybe talk about it) together.

The story is about student activists. About the ones who were forcibly disappeared. And about the families and friends who were left behind, holding on to hope, fighting for justice for them. The ones that have disappeared. It’s also about the silence that follows them, the kind that echoes louder than screams. The book also touches briefly on the same issue in Chile decades ago, where the same thing happened.

And I realised: the people in power can do whatever they want, as long as they control the narrative.

Power, it’s nothing but fear disguised as strength. A power that gets shaky when thousands of voices begin to rise. That’s why they want people to keep their eyes shut. That’s why silence is rewarded. You know what’s happening in the world. I know you do. But you stay silent. Why? Because silence is the only way to keep living comfortably in a world shaped by that same power.

Makes me wonder:

Is there any moral left in the bones of the sleeping? What’s going on with them?

Anyway. Back to the book.

It’s heart-wrenching, yes. But it didn’t stop me from writing this. It didn’t stop me from wanting to be like Laut Biru, or Kasih Kinanti, or any of the others. The characters lit up my dark, damp world. They gave me new goals (I collect goals like Pokémon). Honestly though, I think I’d rather join them in the fight than stay in bed under the comforter of ignorance. You may like it there. I don’t.

The language Leila S. Chudori uses is insane. It pulls you right into the book, and it is not just as a reader, but as if you’re part of the story.

And the poems? So poetic, I wanted to drown in the words. Like they weren’t just written. They were carved out of grief, hope, and resistance. Strengthen my resolve that the people in power are scared but not of weapons, but of voices. That’s why we need class consciousness. Thank you, Marx, for giving me that term. I’d marry it if I could.

They fear what they can’t see. The invisible power of people's thinking. Of people reading. Books scare them, and indeed, it is for a good reason because books make people stop. Make people think.

Books are the quietest kind of rebellion. The ink on the page is like poison for those who thrive on silence.

Because once a mind wakes up, once it shuts the alarm off, it doesn’t want to go back to sleep. Maybe that’s why they ban books, burn them, fear them. Because books are the morning. And mornings mean people are starting to see.

There’s still so much I want to say. But time is catching up with me. I hope I can write more again soon, as the last entry of mine was published months ago.

Oh, and the reason I picked Laut Bercerita in the first place? I just wanted something more human, something that speaks directly to the soul. Oh, a bit side track, the book that saved me from a reading slump was Animal Farm, and let’s be honest, what can you really feel from pigs, horses, and other farm animals? (I’ll yap about Animal Farm in another entry, maybe.)

But for now, here’s the truth:

The only wrong they did was reading books.

Kriminal yang dilakukan oleh mereka hanyalah sebatas membaca buku dan merangkak keluar dari penindasan.