Deviants by Santanu Bhattacharya; The South by Tash Aw review – love under the eye of the law
Two new Asian‑set novels, Deviants and The South, examine the lives of gay teenagers against shifting legal and cultural backdrops. Bhattacharya’s work spans three generations in India post‑Section 377, while Aw’s story follows a Malaysian teen confronting class, family and lingering homophobia.
Two freshly released novels are turning heads for the way they depict gay adolescence in Asia, each anchored in a different legal climate. Santanu Bhattacharya’s Deviants follows three gay men across five decades in India, a country that finally struck down the colonial-era Section 377 ban in 2018. Tash Aw’s The South, the opening volume of a planned quartet, is set in rural Malaysia where the same law still criminalises same‑sex relations. Both books blend personal desire with the weight of state power, offering readers a nuanced look at how love survives under surveillance.
Legal legacies and narrative structure
Section 377, a Victorian penal code imported into British colonies, has shaped the lives of gay men across South and Southeast Asia. In India, the Supreme Court’s 2018 decision to decriminalise consensual same‑sex acts provides a backdrop for Bhattacharya’s intergenerational tale. The novel jumps between the 1970s, 1990s and present‑day Bengaluru, using each era to highlight how legal change reshapes personal risk and social acceptance.
Aw’s novel, by contrast, unfolds in mid‑2010s Malaysia, where the law remains in force. The story is confined to a single summer on a family farm, allowing the author to focus on the day‑to‑day reality of living under a statute that still threatens imprisonment for gay intimacy. The differing temporal scopes—Bhattacharya’s sweeping sweep versus Aw’s tight, seasonal focus—underscore how the same law can produce distinct narrative rhythms.
Characters confronting desire and duty
In Deviants, the earliest thread follows an unnamed artist in the 1970s who experiences a secret romance that ends abruptly when his lover, known only as X, announces a marriage. The loss reverberates through the decades, echoing in the 1990s storyline of a university student whose love for a classmate triggers ostracism and escalating threats. The present‑day thread centers on Vivaan, a 16‑year‑old tech‑savvy teen from Bengaluru. Vivaan’s parents intervene when a teacher questions his plan to bring a dating‑app match, Zed, to a school dance. The teacher’s sudden shift to a self‑congratulatory “enlightened” stance feels hollow, and Vivaan’s night of staged heteronormative performance leaves him questioning authenticity.
Zed introduces Vivaan to a world of app‑facilitated polyamory, hopping between multi‑partner encounters across the city’s buzzing Silicon Plateau. Vivaan’s internal conflict—balancing newfound freedom with the lingering fear of legal and familial backlash—mirrors the broader theme of progress versus loss that Bhattacharya weaves throughout the novel. A later subplot involving artificial intelligence pushes the narrative into satire, critiquing how big tech commodifies intimacy.
Aw’s protagonist, Jay, arrives at his late grandfather’s farm with a mixed‑heritage Chinese‑Malaysian family. Charged with labour by his father, Jay befriends Chuan, a sharp‑tongued farmhand. Their bond quickly turns intimate, delivering Jay’s first cigarette, beer and kiss. The romance unfolds against a backdrop of political scandal—corruption allegations against former Prime Minister Najib Razak—and familial upheaval when Jay’s father, a university lecturer, faces forced early retirement amid sectarian discrimination. The novel uses these external pressures to explore what masculinity means for a young man navigating class differences and societal expectations.
Secondary characters deepen the portrait of constrained desire. Jay’s older sister Lina hides a Malay boyfriend, fearing parental disapproval, while Chuan’s casual bigotry—particularly his dismissive comment about “holding hands in the street one day”—highlights the persistent cultural stigma that still shadows same‑sex relationships in Malaysia.
Themes of progress, privacy and marketisation
Both books ask whether legal reform automatically translates into lived equality. Bhattacharya’s narrative suggests that decriminalisation brings new complexities: the rise of digital platforms, the lure of polyamory, and the intrusion of AI into personal intimacy. The novel’s tone oscillates between sober realism and biting satire, leaving readers uncertain about whether technology is liberating or further exploiting gay desire.
Aw’s quieter prose emphasizes the everyday negotiation of love under a hostile legal framework. The farm setting becomes a microcosm where class, ethnicity and sexual identity intersect. By presenting multiple perspectives—Jay, his sisters, Chuan—the novel underscores that the struggle for acceptance is not limited to a single protagonist but is woven into the fabric of community life.
What comes next for the protagonists?
Bhattacharya leaves Vivaan at a crossroads: he has tasted the freedom of digital dating but remains haunted by the possibility of legal repercussions and familial disappointment. The AI subplot hints at future ethical dilemmas that could reshape how gay men engage with technology in India.
Aw ends The South with an unresolved tension. Jay’s relationship with Chuan is still secret, and the looming question of whether Malaysian society will ever accept public displays of same‑sex affection remains unanswered. The novel’s open‑ended conclusion mirrors the real‑world uncertainty facing LGBTQ+ Malaysians.
Together, these novels demonstrate that while laws can change, cultural attitudes evolve more slowly. Readers are invited to consider how personal desire, family expectations and state power intersect in the lives of gay teenagers across Asia.
Why it matters
The books illuminate how legal reforms and cultural attitudes uniquely shape LGBTQ+ experiences in India and Malaysia, offering insight into broader Asian queer narratives.
Key points
- Deviants spans three generations in India, showing how decriminalisation of homosexuality reshapes personal lives
- The South is set in Malaysia where Section 377 remains, highlighting ongoing legal and social challenges
- Both novels use coming‑of‑age stories to explore the clash between private desire and public law
- Bhattacharya mixes satire on tech and AI with intimate storytelling, while Aw employs a slower, character‑driven style
- Each book ends on an unresolved note, reflecting the real‑world uncertainty for gay youth in their respective societies
Frequently asked questions
What is Section 377 and why is it important to these novels?
Section 377 is a colonial‑era law that criminalised consensual same‑sex acts; it was repealed in India in 2018 but remains in Malaysia, shaping the legal backdrop for both books.
Who are the main protagonists of Deviants and The South?
Deviants follows Vivaan, a teenage tech‑savvy boy in Bengaluru, alongside two older gay men from earlier decades; The South follows Jay, a Chinese‑Malaysian teen working on his family farm.
How do the novels address the role of technology in gay relationships?
Deviants portrays dating apps, polyamory and AI as both liberating tools and sources of commodification, while The South keeps technology minimal, focusing on rural life.
Are the stories based on real events or purely fictional?
Both novels are fictional but draw on real legal histories and contemporary social climates in India and Malaysia.
