Redefining Family and Gender in Lucie Yi Is Not A Romantic
If you like romance novels and you’re looking for something new to read, Lucie Yi Is Not A Romantic is an excellent choice. I stumbled on the book when I was housebound for a week after catching Covid-19 and desperately looking for things to do. The synopsis –– unusual for a romance novel, especially one set in Singapore –– caught my eye and I immediately borrowed an e-copy from the library to check it out. I was hooked from the start — it was engaging, entertaining and funny, and I couldn’t put it down. The biggest surprise, however, was how refreshing and original the novel was. It explored serious themes and ideas in an approachable and lighthearted manner and challenged both chick-lit tropes and cultural norms regarding family, marriage, gender, and motherhood. It seemed unassuming, but it packed an unexpected punch.
The plot centres around Lucie Yi, a Singaporean working in New York City. She has a successful career, but feels like something is missing from her life. Lucie realises that she wants a child, but there’s a problem — her love life is practically nonexistent after a traumatic breakup involving a miscarriage and her ex-fiance, Mark, cheating on her. When a friend suggests that she explore platonic co-parenting for singles, she initially baulks at the idea, but reluctantly decides to create a profile on a co-parenting website. After several false starts, she matches with a man named Collin. To her surprise, he’s perfectly normal — attractive even — and they find that they have a lot in common and click well. Romance, however, is out of the question — their businesslike arrangement is purely pragmatic. After Lucie gets pregnant, she and Collin move back to Singapore, with the intention of co-parenting their child together there. However, they hit a few roadblocks. Each develops feelings for the other, and their relationship gets messy and complicated. Lucie’s family is also disapproving of and unhappy with her decision. Furthermore, Lucie bumps into her ex at a support group session, and he’s soon back in her life. A love triangle ensues as both Collin and Mark profess their love for her. Collin is a better fit for her, but Mark is wealthy and financially stable. In addition, Mark declares that he’ll accept their baby as his own.
Redefining Traditional Family Structures
At the core of the plot is a desire for a child, which isn’t exactly uncommon in a novel of this genre. However, the manner in which Lucie acts on this desire is decidedly unconventional. In Singapore, having a child is seen as something that happens only within the confines of marriage, and having a child out of wedlock is frowned upon and is not seen as socially acceptable. By choosing to have a child outside the context of marriage and romance, Lucie rejects these social expectations and charts her own path, much to the horror of her more conventionally-minded parents. The co-parenting family arrangement that Lucie and Collin adopt also runs counter to the traditional nuclear family that typifies the ideal family unit in Singapore. To the Singaporean government, the heterosexual nuclear family unit is the only valid and legitimate expression of a family, and other non-traditional family structures are not legally or socially (for the most part) recognised (1). These definitions of marriage and family were recently reaffirmed by the government, even as they made the decision to repeal a law criminalising gay sex (1). As such, Lucie also rejects traditional family structures because of the unconventional co-parenting arrangement she has chosen.
Through Lucie’s decision to co-parent, Ho therefore offers an refreshingly unique, counter-cultural perspective on alternative family arrangements, which is rarely seen in the local media or even in typical romance novels. The social and legal constraints placed on childbearing are especially relevant in the context of Singapore’s rapidly ageing population and decreasing birth rates. As the number of marriages drops and marriage age increases, Singaporeans are having less and less babies. The average number of children per married couple are currently below replacement rates, which is a matter of great concern to the government. Ho presents a thought-provoking alternative that could potentially boost Singapore’s birth rate, if social and legal barriers regarding such an option are removed.
Lucie’s decision to have a child is not without its drawbacks, however. She’s hesitant to let anyone at her workplace find out that she’s pregnant because she knows that there is a high chance that it will derail her plans to become a partner at her consulting firm — women who got pregnant or had children were relegated to irrelevant roles at the company she was working for. Through Lucie’s concerns, Ho acknowledges the negative impacts having a child can have on a woman’s career and salary. Also known as the motherhood penalty, it’s an issue that women often have to contend with in workplaces across the world. It’s a subtle but significant critique of the difficult situations women often find themselves in as they juggle the multiple roles and burdens they’re expected to fulfil.
Redefining Marriage Conventions
In addition to family structures, the concept of marriage is also challenged in the novel. Lucie’s refusal to marry the father of her child is disappointing to her parents, for whom the marriage of their daughter is a priority. As a single woman in her thirties, Lucie feels immense societal pressure to get married, settle down, and have children, especially when she returns to Singapore. Despite the fact that she is fulfilling the role of a mother, it’s invalidated by the fact that she is not married. Lucie’s decision to cohabit with Collin is also almost unheard of, due to social and spatial constraints in Singapore. In land-scarce Singapore, cohabitation is not a practical option. With housing policies and subsidies — designed to incentivise marriage — heavily favouring married couples (or couples intending to get married), housing is expensive for singles and unmarried couples. There’s also a social stigma attached to cohabitation without marriage. However, given Lucie’s relatively high socioeconomic status, she’s able to circumvent the monetary costs of cohabitation.
The love triangle situation and the dilemma Lucie faces as she chooses between Mark and Collin is also reflective of marriage and relationship trends in Singapore, specifically regarding hypergamy. Although the trend of women “marrying up” (in terms of education and socioeconomic status) isn’t quite so prevalent in today’s context — given women’s increasing educational attainment and career progression — it’s still evident. Choosing Mark would have been an embodiment of this trend. If, however, she chooses Collin, despite the fact that she outearns him, she will be upending traditional tendencies towards hypergamy and expectations of breadwinning. Regardless, Lucie therefore rejects traditional expectations and conceptions of marriage by choosing to firstly cohabit with Collin, and later enter a romantic relationship with him even though she earns more than him.
To conclude, Lucie Yi Is Not A Romantic is a highly original read that exceeded my expectations. Ho tackles difficult themes in fresh and unexpected ways, mellowing the potency of potentially divisive topics with humour and lighthearted, witty prose. In doing so, she challenges and critiques conventional ideas on marriage, motherhood, family, and gender — especially in Singapore’s context — and offers intriguing alternative perspectives on issues that are often seen as foregone conclusions. The vehicle for these themes is a highly entertaining plot with realistic and relatable characters that readers can’t help but root for. Lucie Yi Is Not A Romantic will satisfy any craving for a good romance novel, but the thought-provoking themes and ideas present in the novel will leave you pondering about it for days after you finish it.
References:
https://str.sg/wV8B
By: Vianne