Spoilers ahead, don’t say you weren’t warned.
I wrote this review eleven days after I finished Apple and Knife. It was even after my Cagayan de Oro trip. Today I get to post this, three weeks too late and still my first reaction is, “Wala akong naintindihan…”
Okay, maybe my memory of the book details are a little bit fuzzy. But yes, I am being serious about it. And you have to hear me out on this.
I read Apple & Knife as part of my feeble attempt to read one book each SEAbling and this is my entry from Indonesia. Much like my Singapore entry, We Are All Alone In This Anyway, this book is also a collection of short stories , and there were stories I couldn’t quite figure out, endings I didn’t see coming, and even symbols I was still trying to make sense of even after I had moved on to the next story. The collection draws from Indonesian folklore and urban legends, with some stories that resemble familiar fairy tales but take them somewhere entirely different. Women are at the center of these stories, and while I could see something resembling women empowerment in them, the way power was presented was often bizarre, unsettling, and sometimes downright disturbing.
And so I kept reading.
I wanted to know what would happen next, even when I had no idea what was happening to begin with.
Let me tell you the stories I remember
There’s something fascinating about how these stories refused to follow the paths I expected them to take. I thought I could anticipate where some of them were going, only for the endings to leave me staring at the page, wondering what on earth I had just read.
Take the Cinderella retelling, for example. Except this time, the story is told from the perspective of one of the evil stepsisters, who cuts off her toes to make the glass slipper fit. Imagine being so determined to marry the prince that you’re willing to mutilate yourself for a shoe. I can’t even imagine doing that to marry Mingyu, and believe me, I adore that man to the moon!
Anyway, kidding aside, that story captures something I kept noticing throughout the collection. These women are willing to do things other people wouldn’t dare to do to get what they want. Their desires are sometimes familiar, but their methods are anything but ordinary. Some seek revenge in ways that become horrifying. Others take control of their own sexuality, while some are trapped in lives they desperately want to escape. Their choices aren’t always admirable and the stories don’t necessarily reward them with happy endings.
There was one story about a woman who hires men to participate in a sexual roleplay. The story is told from the man’s perspective, and he initially entered the arrangement as a job after losing his previous employment. As the story progresses, he and the woman begin sharing personal things, and their arrangement starts to feel more comfortable than I expected. When he eventually wanted to leave, I thought he could just simply stop showing up. He even tries to say goodbye properly. But the ending made me wonder about the other men who had taken the same job and never stayed long enough to explain what happened to them.
Another story involved a woman who seemed to have suffered sexual abuse at the hands of a village authority figure. I expected revenge, yes, and a satisfying one at that but I didn’t expect the bizarre and violent direction it took. She demands the man’s head as payment for a performance in which she would dance naked, and the man who becomes obsessed with her agrees. The story ends in tragedy, with the villagers killing them both. Even when I could understand why she might want revenge, I couldn’t predict how far she would go or how devastating the consequences would be.
I won’t pretend I understood every story or figured out every symbol. There was another about a woman caring for her sick father, whose life seemed confined by her responsibilities and the rules imposed on her. Inside their house, she enters a room that becomes a forest, complete with a well. At one point, she realizes the well is filled with red wine. I wondered whether the forest was her escape from a life she couldn’t leave, whether the wine was literal, or whether I was missing something entirely. Maybe the ambiguity was deliberate. Maybe I simply didn’t have enough pieces to put the story together. Either way, I kept thinking about a woman who wanted an adventure of her own when so much of her life had already been decided for her.
By the time I finished the collection, I had a takeaway, even if I couldn’t confidently explain every story: never underestimate what a woman is willing to do for something she wants.
Never underestimate women, period
I know this isn’t exactly a new realization. I’m a woman and I’ve seen how much determination women can have when we’re pursuing something important to us. I know I’m willing to make sacrifices for things I genuinely want. I once queued for six hours at an EXO ticketing booth. Would I do it again under the scorching sun? Probably not, but still I am not so sure. And while I joke about wanting to be a Disney princess or a spoiled baby girl who marries a rich man, I know I wouldn’t give up my own dreams just to have someone else provide that kind of life for me.
There are limits to what I’m willing to sacrifice. I can endure discomfort when the goal matters enough, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to do absolutely anything to get what I want. The distinction matters, and it made me think about the women in these stories. Their determination is undeniable, but their willingness to cross boundaries sometimes leads them somewhere destructive. Having the power to act doesn’t guarantee that the outcome will be good.
What made the book feel even more familiar, though, was thinking about women I’ve encountered in real life. I’ve known of women who chose to be with wealthy, much older men. I’ve seen college graduates work in bars because the pay is better than what they could earn elsewhere. I’ve also known of women who leave the Philippines to work abroad, sometimes without the proper documents, hoping to build a better life for themselves and their families.
I don’t know the full circumstances behind every woman’s decision, and I don’t want to assume that I do. But I can admire the courage it takes to make a difficult choice while feeling sad that some women have to make such enormous sacrifices just to have a chance at a better life. I admire their determination to provide for their families, even when I wish the path available to them were less difficult.
In the Philippines, I’ve often felt that succeeding at work requires a certain kind of confidence, and sometimes the willingness to put up with treatment you shouldn’t have to accept. That has been part of my own experience, and it’s one reason my Singapore-based work has meant a lot to me. I’ve experienced an environment where I could stay and grow professionally without feeling that I had to make myself smaller just to get by. I know my experience isn’t everyone’s, but it has made me more aware of how much the environment around a woman can shape the choices available to her.
Apple and Knife stayed with me
This is where Apple and Knife stayed with me, even if I couldn’t fully explain everything Intan was trying to say. The women in these stories are fictional, and some of their actions belong to a world of folklore, fantasy, and the grotesque. But the determination underneath those actions felt recognizable. Women have desires of their own. They want better lives, freedom, security, pleasure, love, or simply the chance to decide what happens to them. What they’re willing to do to get those things depends on the person and the circumstances, and sometimes the price is far greater than anyone should have to pay.
I finished Apple and Knife without feeling that I had solved its mysteries. I still have questions about some of the stories, and I’m not sure I caught every layer of symbolism. But maybe I don’t need to have an answer for everything to know what stayed with me.
I think about the women who make difficult choices, the sacrifices I admire, and the circumstances that make me wish they had other options. I think about how easily we can judge someone else’s decisions when we haven’t had to live with the choices in front of them.
And I think I’ll keep coming back to this: never underestimate what a woman is willing to do. Sometimes that willingness is extraordinary. Sometimes it’s frightening. And sometimes, the saddest part is knowing how much she had to be willing to give up in the first place.
