The fishing village of Lee Ah Boon’s birth is a place of mangroves, mudskippers and the sound of waves receding over sand. His days are shaped by his rivalry with his boisterous older brother, the easy love of his mother and uncle, and the more elusive connection with a father who sees too much of his younger self in his sensitive son. The community of the kampong feels itself a world apart from the bustle of the city, but the tides of power come to reach them all the same.

Ah Boon’s story is the story of 20th century Singapore, as he lives through the Japanese invasion, the lumbering return of the British, and the nation’s costly journey toward a kind of freedom. Each wave of rule attempts to force the island’s people into its shape, leaving behind painful silences and scars as people and fragments of self are cut away. Heng shows us all this brutality, and yet manages to give us a novel which is also gentle, nostalgic and filled with love. The care and generosity with which each member of Ah Boon’s community is presented, always with sympathy toward their variously flawed choices, was beautiful to experience.

This is my favourite read of the year so far. We have grown used to novels where a protagonist’s family and rural upbringing are shucked off after the first few chapters. It was entirely unexpected and welcome to read a book which truly did justice to people so often written out of the story.

I loved this book for its arresting humanity and for its vital anger in equal measure – because The Great Reclamation is a historical novel, but its relevance is of our moment. It is a compelling, and often heartbreaking, reminder that building something new often requires levelling that which already exists.