Language selection in the Indonesian novel: Bahasa gado-gado in expressions of love

Introduction

Many Indonesians have an ambivalent attitude towards English. While learning English is highly encouraged, many also view English as a threat to one’s Indonesian-ness (Foster and Welsh, 2017; Gunarwan, 1993; Martin-Anatias, 2018; Muslich, 2010). This ideological attitude is readily evident when it comes to language selection, particularly in written texts (see Buchori, 1994; Martin-Anatias, 2018; Utorodewo, cited in Wahyuningkintarsih, 2016). The standpoint is closely related to the function of Indonesian as the primary language that constructs the dominant understanding of Indonesian-ness. Indonesian as the language of unity acts not only as a linguistic tool but also as a symbolic language in which one’s Indonesian-ness is significantly measured and constructed. In this light, the appearance of English in otherwise Indonesian discourse often receives social and cultural censure grounded in the questioning of one’s authenticity as an Indonesian (Buchori, 1994; Martin-Anatias, 2018; Muslich, 2010; Rosidi, 2010). Thus, the Indonesian popular text examined in this study, where English is used with heavy frequency, warrants further examination.

Dominant understandings of homogenous Indonesian-ness have been established since the pre-independence era, beginning in 1928, when young Dutch-educated intellectuals assigned Indonesian as the language to unite the nation in what is known as the Youth Pledge (Sumpah Pemuda), despite Indonesia’s linguistic diversity (Errington, 2000; Paauw, 2009; Sneddon, 2003). The Pledge declares “one land, one nation, one language,” highlighting the significance of Indonesian as the language that constructs one’s Indonesian-ness. Still today, the Youth Pledge is annually commemorated as Hari Sumpah Pemuda (the Youth Pledge Day). Additionally, the nationalistic construction has been well cultivated, engineered and maintained by the New Order body of government with Suharto, the second president of Indonesia, at the helm (1966–1998). Through the national ideology “Unity in Diversity,” the New Order government upheld Indonesian as the most effective device to achieve unity (Goebel, 2013). As the only official language of the nation, Indonesian is closely related to the government’s nation-building propaganda and the project of national identity construction; therefore it is the language of ideology and formal law for Indonesia. That is, Indonesian, as both national and official language, carries its own set of ideologies – social, cultural, moral, ethical and political systems that may set boundaries for certain discursive uses (see Irvine, 1989; Kroskrity, 2000; Silverstein, 1979; Woolard, 1985; Woolard and Schieffelin, 1994). The dominant understandings of homogenous and collective Indonesian-ness have continued to thrive post the New Order era, popularly known as the reformed era (henceforth, the Reformasi) (Martin-Anatias, 2018).

Many Indonesians learn Indonesian formally in school, while they have already acquired and speak their respective regional language at home and in other close-knit social venues such as among friends and in the neighbourhood (Bertrand, 2003; Goebel, 2013), particularly in much smaller regions (Sneddon, 2003). In a much bigger and cosmopolitan city, such as Jakarta, many in the younger generations show a tendency to acquire Indonesian as their first language (Sneddon, 2003), although the trend may be shifting due to the spread of English. In my textual analysis of the novel 9 Summers, 10 Autumns, by Iwan Setyawan, I refer to Indonesian/Javanese as first/second languages since the main character does not explicitly distinguish the two languages, while I refer to English as a foreign language.

In terms of terminology, I am being careful in referring to Indonesian for its de-jure and de-facto statuses. What Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian) refers to is not straightforward (Musgrave, 2014). While many may have claimed Indonesian as an egalitarian language, its usage is far more complicated than is widely assumed (Sneddon, 2003). Formal Indonesian (also known as “good and proper” Indonesian or “standardised Indonesian” (SI)) is conventionally used in formal documents and laws and for formal occasions (Alwi, 2000; Sugiyono, 2016), while daily Indonesian, which is more informal and colloquial, is widely used in daily exchanges (Sneddon, 2003). These dual functions make Indonesian a diaglossia (see Errington, 2000; Wright, 2004) or a polyglossia for Indonesian speakers (see Musgrave, 2014). For this study I use Indonesian or Bahasa Indonesia to refer to the usage of SI alongside other variants of Indonesian.

Each island hosts a number of various ethnicities, each of which has its own regional language; beyond national identity, then, every Indonesian is also subject to ethnic identity, which is closely linked to the use of regional language (Bertrand, 2003; Goebel, 2012, 2013). Given this ethnic and linguistic diversity, the New Order government prescribed “Indonesian identity” as multiple, promoting the idea that national identity should come first, while ethnic identity comes second (Goebel, 2012). While Indonesian is integral to the formation of national identity, the regional languages are vehicles for cultural traditions and customs. In this light, each ethnicity together with its regional language shapes ethnic identity formation (Bertrand, 2003; Goebel, 2013; Renandya, 2004). As Bertrand (2003: 265) has argued, “boundaries between ethnic groups in Indonesia are fluid, as is the extent to which various groups use language as an ethnic marker.” The Javanese are among the many ethnic groups who associate their ethnic identification with their Javanese language (Bertrand, 2003; Goebel, 2013).

Javanese is a non-egalitarian language. There are at least three diaglossic levels of Javanese language: Kromo (the highest level), inggil (the medium) and ngoko (the lowest). Kromo, the most formal and polite, is used to create distance between speakers; inggil, the medium level, is semi-polite and semi-formal; and the lowest is ngoko, a level of Javanese considered to be more colloquial and non-formal, intended for intimate or comfortable relationships (Errington, 1998, 2000; Goebel, 2002; Poedjosoedarmo, 1968). This diaglosic level dictates the level of “politeness” that a speaker should adopt, conferring the “proper degree of respect to those who are of high rank and using the proper degree of formality in addressing those of an older generation” and distant relatives (Poedjasoedarmo, 1968: 54). In other words, the socio-cultural and age inequality of interlocutors determines the level of formality of the language (Errington 1998, 2000; Goebel, 2002; Poedjosoedarmo, 1968). Although research to date has found that Javanese, particularly ngoko, can replace the function of Indonesian in inter-ethnic relations in a region in Central Java, the general rule of applying the hierarchical level depending on the social stratification between the interlocutors still applies (Goebel, 2002). This linguistic information is central to fully understanding the language selection analysis coming in the later section.

It appears that the central role of Indonesian as the language that carries Indonesian-ness has influenced the metapragmatic and ideological attitudes assigned to the language. Also, it relates to the noticeable absence of Javanese as the main character’s (other) first language throughout the text, particularly in expressions of overt affection. Thus, it can be inferred that the noticeable absence of Indonesian and Javanese when overt love is discussed and expressed in this novel is related to Indonesian’s status as the language of national identity, and the normative values both languages carry.

The relation between ideological attitudes and Indonesian (and Javanese) shows that language never occurs in a vacuum. In fact, it is socially, culturally and politically motivated (Blommaert, 2005, 2010). In this study, I am uncovering the relationship between language selection and overt love expression, which is socio-culturally constructed. Moreover, drawing upon Lee’s (2012) metadiscourse of English in popular culture, I demonstrate how Setyawan portrays realistic characters and situations to which his novel’s readers can easily relate through his language selection, particularly that used to express emotion. Using an interpretive textual analysis (Lee, 2012; Martin-Anatias, 2018), I show that code-switching between Indonesian and English in an Indonesian novel has discursive and systematic functions rather than being a random language practice (see Grosjean, 2010 [1982]; Zentella 1997).

Love expression: A socio-cultural construct

Before turning to analysis, I will first discuss the geographical boundaries of Indonesia, and of Java as one of the prominent islands in the country. This geographical information is integral to this study because the protagonist/narrator is constructed as a Javanese man who values his cultural and national identities. I then explore the definition of love, love expressions or other emotional expressions in the contexts of a Javanese culture that contributes to Indonesian values. This information acts as a background for understanding the analysis more comprehensively.

Indonesia is a tropical and archipelagic country with approximately 17,000 islands straddling the equator from Sumatra in the West to Papua in the East. Of all the islands, Java is the most populous and has remained important, particularly since the New Order era. Suharto, the second president who led Indonesia from 1966–1998, significantly developed Jakarta, the capital city located in Java (Gordon, 1975). Java as an island is home to a number of provinces or regions, namely Banten, Special Capital Region of Jakarta, West Java, Central Java, Yogyakarta special region and East Java. During the Suharto era, for nearly 32 years, Javanese “culture” dominated because of how he led Indonesia. In other words, Javanese values have played an integral role culturally and politically (Ananta et al., 2016; Woodward, 2010). In his book, Mark Woodward (2010: 14) claimed that “Indonesia and Java are overlapping social, linguistic, cultural, conceptual and religious as well as geographical spaces and political entities.” As an identity construct it is safe to say that “to be Javanese is to be Indonesian but the reverse is clearly not the case” (Woodward, 2010: 14). While the correlation differs from, for example, Malay ethnicity which has defined Malaysia, Javanese values and culture have significantly shaped the construction of Indonesian-ness (Ananta et al., 2016; Woodward, 2010).

In an attempt to unpack the relation between overt love expressions and being Javanese, I find it useful to explore how Javanese identity is constructed. The Javanese are popularly perceived as people who stereotypically enjoy quietness and speak implicitly and softly, with the aim of being polite (sopan) and refined (halus), as opposed to coarse (kasar) (Geertz, 1973; Heppel, 2014; Kurniawan and Hasanat, 2007; Peodjoesoedarmo, 1968). Tranquility and quietness are much respected as a code of conduct, and politeness is central to Javanese communication, which should confer the proper degree of respect to the interlocutor (Geertz, 1973; Peodjoesoedarmo,1968). Clifford Geertz (1973) in his seminal work The Interpretation of Cultures describes the importance of intricate etiquette for the Javanese: it regulates their manner of speaking and overall way of life (see also Peodjoesoedarmo, 1968). Once the Javanese are able to master this system of etiquette they have reached sampun djawa (already Javanese which is equivalent to already human) (Geertz, 1973). From childhood, the Javanese are trained to be isin (malu, embarrassed or shy depending on the socio-cultural context), particularly when expressing themselves (Geertz, 1973). Moreover, Javanese is the way of life that regulates every facet of life, which includes how the Javanese communicate with an appropriate language: they are required to have “patience, detachment, resignation and respect” (Geertz, 1973: 53; Peodjoesoedarmo, 1968). When communicating, they are expected to “hide their real feeling” as a way to preserve their Javanese culture. Scholars have observed that Javanese are trained from a young age to hide their emotions and that failure to do so can be taken as inappropriate. In other words, Javanese expression of emotion is a matter of socio-cultural and psychological regulation (Geertz, 1973; Kurniawan and Hasanat, 2007; Peodjoesoedarmo, 1968). Because they are “Javanized” and a part of the Asian countries, many Indonesians are perceived as collectivist human beings who tend to communicate their meaning implicitly (Kurniawan and Hasanat, 2007). Although this understanding of cultural identity may be of an essentialist nature, research to date still shows this tendency (e.g. Kurniawan and Hasanat, 2007).

It is, however, important to highlight that Kurniawan and Hasanat’s (2007) study was conducted in Yogyakarta, an area which by many is presumed to be the home for more sopan and halus Javanese than those from East Java where Setyawan is from. Coming from Batu, Malang, the main character can be identified as a “Malang person,” who is also considered Javanese, and a member of a larger Javanese culture (Espree-Conaway, 2013: 3). Research to date still treats Malang Javanese as parts of Javanese communities and has consistently referred to them as Javanese (Espree-Conaway, 2013; Manns, 2012, 2014; Sunardi, 2017). I also use the main character’s own identification as Javanese and his attachment to “Javanese culture and values” which he learns from his parents (Setyawan, 2011a: 9, 31, 13, 132, 164, 171). Drawing on these studies, I am going to show that the main character in this popular novel is a global human being who can express his emotions with the help of a foreign language and still maintain his identities as a Javanese and as an Indonesian. These socio-cultural constructs are readily apparent in the main character, as we will see in the analysis section.

In the context of Indonesian studies, while empirical studies that correlate love expression and a second/foreign language are relatively non-existent, a few studies touch upon “love” (cinta) as a romantic mediation among Indonesian teenagers. One study, which links love with courtship in an Islamic school, treats love itself a “taboo” expression (Muslimah, 2013). From this research, Siti Muslimah concluded that love expression becomes taboo or socio-culturally non-normative for her Indonesian student participants when Islam is used as a lens to look through it. Due to some Indonesian Muslims’ interpretation of Islamic values, expressing love overtly is considered taboo and a transgression of socio-cultural norms (see Muslimah, 2013). Here, we see how taboo or “non-normative” values are social constructs that are believed to be part of the hegemonised Indonesian. Another study, by Tracy Webster (2010), examined various domains of Indonesian teenage lives, including a short section on love expression. Webster discussed the explicit expression of love in a teenaged-event brochure as a device to mark an intergenerational gap, indicating the younger generation’s greater openness. Without further elaboration on language use, Webster (2010) argued that love expression is an inter-generational issue that is also socio-culturally constructed.

In fields outside Indonesian studies and (socio)linguistics, a number of studies related to love have been conducted, ranging from love as passionate love between heterosexual couples (Gunnarsson, 2014) and same-sex marriage couples (Schneebaum, 2014), to married couples (Neff and Karney, 2009) and adult love (Neto, 2012), to non-romantic or compassionate love (Underwood, 2009). Additionally, a sizeable body of research has been conducted on love expressions as conceptually overlapping between social and psychological constructs which largely emphasise actions and attitudes (Gunnarsson, 2014; Neff and Karney, 2009; Neto, 2012; Schneebaum, 2014; Underwood, 2009). For this current study, I use the definition of love as compassionate love, or the “particular kind of love that centres on the good of the other” (Underwood, 2009: 3), as opposed to hormonally driven desire or romantic affection (Neff and Karney, 2009; Neto, 2012; Underwood, 2009).

Research investigating love expression and first language use has contributed to a sizeable body of literature as well (see Dewaele, 2008; Gareis and Wilkins, 2011; Thompson, 2013; Wilkins and Gareis, 2006). These studies have highlighted the importance of the socio-cultural environment in shaping the socially-constructed activity of expressing love in one’s first language (Dewaele, 2008; Garies and Wilkins, 2011; Lutz, 1998; Thompson, 2013; Wilkins and Garies, 2006). Building on studies that have largely problematised love expression in the first language, I explore love expression in which a foreign language plays an important role. These love expressions are still less explored and offer a considerable scope for future study.

My aim is thus to explore and explain the relationship between identity and language selection as well as other nuances revealed by the use of English in otherwise Indonesian-language popular novels. I use code-switching as the framework to examine language selection where Indonesian (and other Indonesian variants) and English occur in the novel. In this study, I use code-switching for the use of two or more languages at the word, phrase and/or sentence levels because code-switching covers the other language selection phenomena such as code-mixing or language switching in a broad manner (Bhatia and Ritchie, 2006 [2004]). In other words, I treat code-switching and code-mixing interchangeably. Additionally, because of the Indonesian context for my study, I use bahasa gado-gado to refer to code-switching that involves SI and/or other Indonesian variants and English.

Code-switching and language ideology: The frameworks

Existing studies of Indonesian-English code-switching focus mainly on oral interaction (e.g. Sumarsih et al., 2014; Yassi, 2001), classroom interaction (e.g. Pradina et al., 2013) and computer-mediated communication (e.g. Isharyanti and Càrdenas-Claros, 2009). Only a few scholars have examined code-switching in Indonesian novels (e.g. Arimasari, 2013; Meilisa, 2013).

Moreover, code-switching has long met with negative attitudes and perceptions from both linguists and lay people (e.g. Labov, 1966, 1971; Weinreich, 1968 [1953]). Even though such attitudes have significantly shifted since the 1990s, bilinguals who engage in code-switching often label the practice as peculiar, random, bad or negative (Bhatia and Ritchie, 2006 [2004]; Gardner-Chloros, 2009; Muysken, 2000; Myers-Scotton, 1993). In a different light, other studies have revealed that code-switching confers socio-cultural and economic benefits in a multilingual working space (Higgins, 2009) and that it grants some space for socio-cultural performativity for multilingual individuals (Jonsson, 2010, 2012, 2014). Extending the conversation, I show how a character manipulates his multilingual ability to transcend socio-cultural boundaries.

Additionally, another study on oral code-switching has proposed two different functions. One is situational code-switching in which speakers switch between languages due to social situational shifts. The other function is metaphorical code-switching in which switching between languages occurs due to topical shifts (Blom and Gumperz, 2000). I draw on Blom and Gumperz’s (2000) analysis of the code-switching function to investigate if pre-planned code-switching may assume similar roles.

Within an Indonesian context, scholars have shown that many lay-people attribute code-switching to insufficient ability in English (Lie, 2007), anti-nationalism, a loss of Indonesian-ness (Buchori, 1994; Muslich, 2010; Rosidi, 2010), Westernisation (Muslich, 2010; Rosidi, 2010), exhibitionism (Buchori, 1994; Rosidi, 2010), attention-seeking (Buchori, 1994; Rosidi, 2010) or inferiority complexes (Buchori, 1994; Muslich, 2010; Rosidi, 2010). This study shows otherwise. I also extend their work by addressing the socio-cultural aspects of code-switching into English in Indonesian publishing discourse which is still under-considered. Moreover, building on Foster and Welsh’s (2017) claim that there is virtually zero relation between English-Indonesian code-switching and one’s English proficiency, I demonstrate that that there is bilingual ability shown by the main character of the popular novel I am investigating. Building on these existing studies, I offer another lens to focus on code-switching through an examination of its use in popular written texts, placing linguistic selection squarely at the centre of the study.

As I explore the set of identities that emerge from the written texts examined in this study, I find language ideology to be a useful critical concept to problematise the language selection in the texts I investigated: texts in which English, as a language of the Other indexed by italicisation, plays a vital role. The italicisation is regulated by the language policy launched in 1972, popularly referred to as EYD (Ejaan Yang Disempurnakan, the Enhanced Indonesian Spelling System). Since then, EYD officially functioned as a general guideline to Indonesian spelling (Alwi, 2000). EYD’s effective application officially ended in 2015 when the most recent Indonesian spelling system policy and guidelines were published, called PUEBI (Pedoman Umum Ejaan Bahasa Indonesia, the General Guideline for the Indonesian Spelling System) by the Department of Education and Culture (Sugiyono, 2016). I argue that the set of personal, societal and communal identities indexed by Indonesian-English code-switching, which may reflect power, resistance and submission, are derived from the ideologies attached to English as the most sought-after foreign language in Indonesia, as opposed to Indonesian, the official and national language. Utilising language ideology as a perspective, I examine print fiction that juxtaposes English and Indonesian.

The concept of language ideology can help explore a linguistic phenomenon in a socio-political context (Kroskrity, 2000). Language ideologies grant a space to see how speakers articulate their language selection in ways that reflect their attitude towards a language (Silverstein, 1979). Moreover, a language ideology framework not only tackles languages as linguistic resources, but also the connections between language and identity, morals and aesthetics. Thereby, it enables researchers to explore the association between speakers’ perception of certain values towards languages that are socially, culturally, politically and economically motivated (Woolard, 1985). I have selected language ideologies as one of the frameworks with which to approach my data to examine how and why Indonesian and English are being utilised in a specific context. Drawing from this concept, I show how Indonesian is understood as a vehicle of “morally good” values, Javanese as a language that carries an “old” tradition, and English as a vehicle of newly adopted socio-cultural values vis-a-vis language selection.

Additionally, prior to my analysis and in-depth discussion, I present the text and methodology that I used in this study in order to answer the research questions, “Is code-switching a random language selection?,” “What is a discursive function of English in the Indonesian popular novel?” and “Is code-switching a challenge to one’s Indonesian-ness?”

9 Summers, 10 Autumns

The Reformasi era has allowed more room for many Indonesians to use more English and so the use of English in otherwise Indonesian discourse is noticeably increasing, for example in popular publishing (Martin-Anatias, 2018) and in political spheres (Foster and Welsh, 2017). It is in printed texts that the occurrence of bahasa gado-gado is most visible in contemporary Indonesian society (Martin-Anatias, 2018). Furthermore, through the language selection in popular texts one can see the writers’ trajectories, voice and life experience as well the macro-level language policy (Blommaert, 2010, 2013; Callahan, 2004; Kelly-Holmes and Peitikäinen, 2013; Pennycook, 2007). In other words, one can immediately see how government language policies play out in written texts and novels. Moreover, many Indonesians including linguists believe that the language selection in printed texts should be regulated. In their view, printed texts should use only “standardised Indonesian” or “good and proper” Indonesian (Tasai, 2006; Utorodewo, cited in Wahyuningkintarsih, 2016). Thus, the language use in popular texts is sociolinguistically wealthy as part of contemporary usage within a given society (Lee, 2004, 2006, 2007, 2012; Lee and Moody, 2012), although second and/or foreign language use in popular novels and/or popular culture is still relatively under-researched (Jonsson, 2014; Mahootian, 2012; Sebba, 2012).

The text I examine in this study is 9 Summers, 10 Autumns: Dari Kota Apel ke The Big Apple (9 Summers, 10 Autumns: From the City of Apples to the Big Apple), henceforward 9S10A, (Setyawan, 2011a), a novel inspired by the life of its author, Iwan Setyawan. In this novel, narrated in the first person, the author uses real names, stories and places. Although I am tempted to call it a memoir, the publisher labels it a novel inspired by true stories (Setyawan, 2011a). Iwan, the main character and narrator, grew up in the small town of Batu, near Malang, East Java, in a very poor but loving family. Being born to Javanese parents on Java island, Iwan identifies himself as Javanese which is repeatedly conveyed in the novel (Setyawan, 2011a: 13, 31, 132, 140, 164). His father is a minicab driver and his mother is a housewife. Despite their financial struggles, Iwan completes his education in good public schools in Batu. Due to his intelligence and hard work, he earns his undergraduate degree from a well-regarded Indonesian university as one of the highest-ranking graduates. With his college diploma, he obtains a job at an international company located in Jakarta. Building on an already successful career, he accepts a job at Nielsen Consumer Research in New York where he lives and works for 10 years before deciding to quit and return to his hometown. The story is set mainly in New York and Batu (Malang), and briefly in Jakarta. I chose this novel because of its frequent use of English and its publication during the Reformasi or post-authoritarian era.

I viewed the novel as a discourse that can reveal social meanings (Gee, 2011), and approached the data by combining discourse analysis and interpretive textual analysis as methods. First, I noted down all the switches from the novel in my notes and used notes to mark, code and categorise. Then, I read and re-read the novel and marked any important features. I then analysed the novel both inductively and deductively (Merriam, 2009). As I read and re-read the text, I noticed that overt love expression is one of the most significant repeated themes in which the author, the narrator and the characters unfailingly code-switch. Later, I used Kamus Besar Bahasa Indonesia (or KBBI, the Great Dictionary of the Indonesian Language by the Department of Education and Culture) to crosscheck uses of English that might have been characterised as borrowing rather than code-switching.

When grounding the analysis, I interpreted the meaning of any intersentential and intrasentential switches in the novel. Upon examining the switches in which love expression is majorly and significantly switched from Indonesian to English, I cross-checked my insider intuition by asking for insight from other Indonesians on several online forums such as Living in Indonesia Expat Forum, an English-mediated site, and Kompasiana, an Indonesian-mediated forum.

Throughout the study, I display excerpts from the written works verbatim, with italics and other typography intact, in both the original and the translation. In presenting the analysis, I translated the Indonesian passages from 9S10A into English to serve the English readers of my work and then compared my own translation with the novel’s English edition published under the same title. If the novel’s translation is better than my own, I use the published version for better readability. In this manner, the credit for some of the English translations of 9S10A in this study belongs to Maggie Tiojakin, the translator of the published English version (Setyawan, 2011b).

Indexing one’s Indonesian-ness: Expressing love via non-verbal (covert) statements

As briefly explained earlier, the question of one’s authenticity is often directed to those who are practising code-switching in their linguistic repertoire (see Buchori 1994; Foster and Welsh, 2017; Muslich, 2010). In an Indonesian context, the use of code-switching is often seen as an act of betraying Indonesian-ness, or infamously as keminggris (to act like a British person), keamerika-amerikaan (to act like an American) or kebarat-baratan (to act like the Westerners) (see Buchori, 1994; Foster and Welsh, 2017; Gunarwan, 1993; Muslich, 2010; Rosidi, 2010). The use of Indonesian is closely related to Indonesian-ness (Musgrave, 2014) and, similarly, since the New Order era English has been largely seen as a language that brings with it its “Western” cultural values as well as its negative ideologies (Foster and Welsh, 2017; Martin-Anatias, 2018; Smith, 1991). The New Order era attempted to regulate the heavy usage of English in Indonesian popular culture and media in the 1990s, without success (Smith, 1991). The post-authoritarian government has adopted a similar attitude by launching the Language Law in 2009, which officially others any languages other than Indonesian (UU No. 24/2009).

Even as it retains the ideologies assigned to language choice by the government and many Indonesians, 9S10A challenges this perspective by proposing an inclusive and expansive meaning of being Indonesian. Iwan, the main character of the novel, still sees himself as a Javanese Indonesian regardless of his use of English and his attachments towards New York and the United States (Setyawan, 2011a: 204). Both in the narration and in dialogue, Iwan predominantly uses Indonesian. He usually switches to Javanese when speaking to his mother (Setyawan, 2011a: 164), but often switches to English, particularly when expressing his feelings. Throughout the text he positions Javanese language as a language that carries his traditional, familial and past attachments in a constantly positive light (Setyawan, 2011a: 13, 31, 132, 140, 164). This ideological attitude is contrary to other studies’ research participants who have a rather negative attitude towards Javanese (see Manns, 2014; Manns and Musgrave, 2015). In this light, Iwan’s embracing of his Indonesian-ness (and Javaneseness) is also expressed via his family’s discourse.

In hindsight, he indicates that expressing love in such an obvious and explicit manner is not part of his family’s culture, suggesting that he has adopted this “new lifestyle” while away from Indonesia. Being Javanese, Iwan and his family members may have enculturated “silent, resigned and detached expressions” as a way of respecting the other interlocutor, particularly when it comes to emotion (cf. Geertz, 1973: 53; Kurniawan and Hasanat, 2007). In the following extract, Iwan hints that love in the context of emotion is conceptualised as a physical action and gesture rather than a verbal or explicit expression, particularly in his familial culture. Growing up, while verbal manifestations of love were not part of his family’s linguistic repertoire, love was shown in other ways:

“Sering juga pada malam hari, aku terbangung, terbatuk-batuk karena dinginnya udara Kota Batu. Ibu selalu bangun membuatkan kopi panas untukku. Semuanya pun nyaman kembali. Tak ada obat batuk, hanya kopi panas, hanya kehangatan dari Ibu” (Setyawan, 2011a: 9) (Sometimes I would wake in the middle of the night, coughing because it was so cold at night in Batu. Ibu would make me a cup of hot coffee when that happened and afterward I felt safe and comfortable again. We didn’t have the money to buy medicines so we used hot coffee. Yet Ibu’s love was enough to get me through the night).

Despite the fact that Iwan embraces a new culture via speech acts after living for many years overseas, where English is the dominant language, he demonstrates that picking up this “new foreign habit” does not necessarily make him less Indonesian (or Javanese). One of the ways to show his attachment towards Indonesia is by still calling the country his home and by repeatedly referring to himself as Javanese or using a number of Javanese phrases and sentences when talking to/about his family members, despite the many years spent living in New York (Setyawan, 2011a: 31, 132, 164, 171, 204).

The two examples above show that love is a matter of covert and implicit deliverance, especially for Iwan’s parents, members of an older Javanese generation who are English illiterate. As we will see in the discussion of verbal love expressions below, this background is essential to understanding how Iwan, of a younger generation and English literate, prefers bahasa gado-gado when it comes to expressively delivering his affection.

More importantly, the novel is marked as Indonesian through the use of SI. Despite my own focus being on bahasa gado-gado, and it is a significant feature in this novel, SI is still the dominant language throughout the novel. While the characters select bahasa gado-gado in their discourse, they still function most of the time in Indonesian, suggesting they are not detaching themselves from their national identities. Moreover, because Iwan still values Javanese as one of his identification sites, Javanese usage is visible albeit limited. Iwan switches to Javanese (ngoko) at least twice, directed to his mother but none is to express his emotion (Setyawan, 2011a: 164, 171). First, it is on one occasion when he calls his mother in Javanese (here the narrator provides an Indonesian translation for the non-Javanese speakers) (Setyawan, 2011a: 171). Secondly, it is in his predominantly Indonesian email to his mother that he switches to ngoko twice. In all, none of his Javanese usage is related to any evocative expression.

Given the paradoxes that the author projects between bahasa gado-gado and Indonesian and Javanese identities in the novel, I demonstrate that bahasa gado-gado in the popular text acts as an effective means for the author to propose his new, more expansive and inclusive meaning of what contemporary Indonesian-ness can look like.

In the analysis that follows, I examine the majority of references to verbal love expressions that are delivered via bahasa gado-gado and conveyed in a liberating manner and a straightforward tone.

For ease of reference, I present the original extracts followed by the English translation. The conversations in all texts are predominantly held in Indonesian - a mix between SI and other Indonesian variants - but feature English switches or bahasa gado-gado.

Expressions of overt love in 9S10A

I present my analysis of excerpts from 9 Summers, 10 Autumns to show that the frequent switching from SI or other Indonesian variants to English during displays of affection is a strategic mechanism used to integrate newly adopted socio-cultural values into one’s speech act.

One important use of bahasa gado-gado that this novel demonstrates, especially among younger characters, is to verbally express love. Indonesian popular novels such as 9S10A provide examples of love as a socio-cultural and emotional act without distinguishing the types of love, such as passionate love etc. (see Wilkins and Gareis, 2006). Accordingly, “I love you” and other explicit love expressions allow an exploration of why Indonesian writers prefer expressing love in English, as opposed to their first language, be it the regional language or Indonesian, in otherwise Indonesian discourse.

In all dialogues and narration that I analysed, I found that all overt expressions of love, whether verbal or explicit, are conveyed in bahasa gado-gado. In other words, of all of the plainly apparent love declarations throughout the text, I found a constant switch from Indonesian or Javanese (or Indonesian with Javanese variant) to English.

Iwan consistently uses English in his predominantly Indonesian letters and emails to his family when expressing love. Although he uses monolingual Indonesian in many other parts of the novel, he never does so when expressing love.

The extracts below are from an email addressed to Iwan’s mother but sent to his sister’s email address due to his mother’s technological illiteracy. While the dominant language of his emails is Indonesian, Iwan deliberately switches to English when it comes to love expression, as demonstrated in extract 1:

“Setelah 8 tahun di New York, Buk, setelah ingin pulang tiap tahunnya, promosi ini lebih dari mimpiku, mungkin lebih dari kita semua digabung jadi satu. Doakan biar lancar yah, Buk. Kalo sempat, bikin nasi kuning buat syukuran” (After eight years living in New York, I always want to go home. Every year. This job promotion is more than I ever dreamt. It is more than our dreams. Please pray for me, Buk. If you have time, please invite our neighbours to pray together at our house and cook them the traditional rice for the prayers’ event); “Yowis, gitu aja yah. Salam buat semua” (That’s all from me. Send my regards to everyone); “With all my heart, Anakmu (yang dulu sering kau bilang durhaka) New York, January 2008” (With all my heart, Your son (the one you used to call your long-lost son) New York, January 2008). (Setyawan, 2011a: 164)

Bahasa gado-gado, with a deliberate switch from Indonesian to English, functions as a space to express unconcealed love. The love expression here is indicated by the shift of the language from Indonesian to English; notably, Javanese, the language that one might predict he would use to address his parent(s), is absent. The first quote above shows that the writer adopts Indonesian when discussing the traditional family and community habit of praying together and cooking traditional rice as a symbol of success. It is important to note how Javanese, presumably a language of attachment to tradition, is absent from his discourse. One would predict that Iwan would use Javanese when describing his “old” ritual, particularly when addressing his mother, a Javanese speaker. Yet Iwan positions Indonesian as the language that can uphold his customary rituals. Moreover, a noticeable switch from Indonesian occurs when the character expresses his love (“with all my heart”), as shown in the third quote above.

Despite his parents’ inability to speak or read English, Iwan keeps switching from Indonesian to English when openly expressing his love. His mother has little to no knowledge of English; she is a housewife and comes from a very poor background. With all my heart is an expression of love and the only English phrase that he uses in this email. While it is a logical choice for Iwan to speak English due to his newly adopted environment, we can imagine that the use of with all my heart may appear peculiar to his mother given her low English proficiency.

This type of expression may fall under an intimate relational exchange. A number of studies problematising the indexicality of regional languages, including Javanese, have shown that speakers tend to use Javanese for more intimate or close (akrab) forms of communication (see Errington, 1998; Espree-Conaway, 2013; Goebel, 2010). Iwan, on the contrary, deliberately uses English to deliver his intimately affective statement.

As we saw earlier, the older generation tends to show love via gestures rather than verbal or explicit expressions. By unrestrictedly expressing his love to his parents in English, Iwan introduces a “new culture” to his family, one which they may not even be aware of since they may not understand it. In this case, Iwan, as a representative of a younger, more commonly bilingual generation, is English-literate and presumably familiar with overt love expression, as opposed to his parents who are part of an older generation. By expressing love in an unbridled manner in a language that is still foreign for his parents and maybe also for his siblings, Iwan appears to be introducing a new element to his family culture. In this way he, as part of a younger generation, is an active social agent (Eckert, 2012). He is trying to instill a new culture in his family in that while he uses Indonesian out of habit, a brief switch into English enables him to express love openly. Furthermore, his Javanese identification is another key role to problematise. As a Javanese, Iwan might have been expected to speak with politeness, particularly with his mother (Geertz, 1973; Poedjosoedarmo, 1968). However, in all instances when Iwan expresses his explicit affection to his parents, Javanese is noticeably absent. In this light, language is an entity that is actively becoming an intergenerational marker (Bakhtin, 1981).

Code-switching also functions as an evocative tool in which one language is understood as a better way to express particular emotions than another (Mahootian, 2005, 2012). And yet, because the English phrase might not be understood by his mother, it protects him from the charge of transgressing socio-cultural boundaries (i.e. that emotions should be kept reservedly), particularly in his identification as Javanese. Thus, by shifting to English when love expression is declared, Iwan transcends the socio-cultural and non-egalitarian values that Javanese language might carry. English as a foreign language for Iwan may have provided less socio-cultural weight than Indonesian and Javanese when it comes to love declarations.

Moreover, for Iwan, who has been living in New York for more than eight years, English is the most available linguistic resource to communicate. Conveying love openly may also be a new behaviour that he picks up while living in New York, as shown in the above excerpts. They show how Iwan explicitly observes that both his parents tend to express their love in a non-verbal manner and that unconcealed love expression was non-existent when he was growing up. Accordingly, for Iwan, languages play a significant role in maintaining both his Indonesian-ness and his cosmopolitan self.

Bahasa gado-gado serves as an effective outlet to deliver undisguised love expression in a family where expressing love is accomplished through physical gestures and is often left unspoken. Iwan utilises bahasa gado-gado to express unconcealed love not only for his family members, but also for his younger self to whom he refers as “his friend” and “his brother,” as demonstrated by the following extracts:

“My dear friend, my love”; “I miss you, dan semoga tulisan ini bisa memanggilmu, karena aku tahu, kau tak akan pernah jauh diriku. Ini tulisan terakhir tentang saudara-saudaraku, tentang seseorang yang hatinya putih, adik bungsuku Mira” (I miss you, and I hope this writing can summon you, because I know you have never been apart from me. This is my last writing about my siblings, about my sister with a good heart, my youngest sister, Mira). (Setyawan, 2011a: 54)

In a similar light, Iwan utilises bahasa gado-gado to narrate a childhood experience, but switches to English to reflect, show gratitude and express love, as demonstrated in the extract 3 below. In his reflection, as a multilingual adult who has picked up new American values, Iwan revisits his childhood memories and deliberately expresses his affection towards his mother in bahasa gado-gado.

Melihat airmata Ibu jatuh saat itu, I told myself, I will not let this happen again. I want to make her a happy mother, a very happy mother. I want to do something for my family. I love them so much. This past memory, though painful, has saved my life. Di sinilah aku mulai melihat hidup ini tak hijau lagi. (When I saw my mother’s tears falling that night, I told myself I will not let this happen again. I want to make her a happy mother, a very happy mother. I want to do something for my family. I love them so much. This past memory, though painful, has saved my life. And from here I learned that life is not so green after all).

“Kenangan ini, meskipun perih, telah menyelamatkan hidupku. Aku tak bisa memilih masa kecilku” (The memory, though painful, has saved my life. I can’t choose my childhood).

A consistent departure from Indonesian to English and the use of code-switching conveys Iwan’s affectionate expression towards his mother. The switch from Indonesian to English to display Iwan’s excessive emotion is visible here. In this case, Indonesian acts as a language to elaborate about this childhood experience. This reflects the traditional Indonesian language that shifts towards the modern and new Indonesian.

Moreover, the division of labour between the languages is also associated with English literacy and illiteracy, reflecting the experiences of Iwan’s younger self and his family members, particularly his parents. His childhood self and his family members share their illiteracy in English and their attachment to Javanese and Indonesian cultures. These two elements are important points of reference that help explain why Iwan in the time frame of the novel can express his feeling in an open manner via his language selection, as he is now a multilingual with a hybrid identity. Saying “I love you,” “I miss you” and other verbal love expressions appears to reflect his individual trajectory, newly adopted habits and speech acts – that is, the range of sociocultural and linguistic experiences to which he has been exposed (Dewaele, 2008). In this manner, Iwan, who learned English as a foreign language later in his life, may have picked up the new habit of expressing love explicitly while living in New York. For him, the United States may have provided him a space to learn in which expressing love verbally in the contexts of family and friendship is common (see Gareis and Wilkins, 2011; Wilkins and Gareis, 2006). In incorporating it into his existing linguistic habits and literacy, he has created a hybrid self, while transgressing social and cultural boundaries at the same time.

Moreover, through Iwan’s regular exchanges with his immediate family members in Indonesia, readers are invited to witness his emergent use of English, projecting his linguistic ability and his ability to manipulate the symbolic value of language (Eckert, 2012; Foster and Welsh, 2017; Martin-Anatias, 2018). Iwan’s bilingual (or multilingual) skills function to project his “increased English language competency” unlike the code-switching used by some other Indonesian figures (Foster and Welsh, 2017: 397).

Taken together, the above examples show that bahasa gado-gado grants a space for Iwan to explicitly express his affection, suggesting that the relationship between bahasa gado-gado and love expression is inescapable and that maintaining only Indonesian and Javanese in this context is not possible. The frequent presence of phrases like with all my heart, I love you, I love you very much, dearest and my love in the otherwise Indonesian novel is striking. Those love expressions are available in both Indonesian and Javanese. Thus, switching from Indonesian to English may “avoid the affective loaded meaning” of the Indonesian expressions (Li and Tse, 2002: 168). The equivalence in Indonesian (or perhaps, Javanese) may sound too direct, so using English may save Iwan from embarrassment or being clichéd or too awkward as it is not the “cultural value” shared with his parents within their Javaneseness and Indonesian-ness. In light of the noticeable absence of Javanese in his love expressions, Iwan may have deliberately used English partly due to the socio-cultural baggage carried by Javanese (and to some extent, Indonesian). As a Javanese person, Iwan may have been trained to conceal his emotions (see Geertz, 1973). A Javanese Indonesian, as previously mentioned, is trained to be detached, resigned and patient when it comes to expressing affection as a way to respect others. English, on the other hand, comes as a neutral language that represents his newly adopted habit, probably a foreign notion for his parents. Here English plays an emotive function that conveys an affective purpose (Li and Tse, 2002). Code-switching from Indonesian to English allows Iwan to express his emotions with relative ease.

The examples above also signal a constant topical shift from non-affective statements to overt love expressions, which involve the shift from Indonesian to English. In this light, the switches used for Iwan’s love expression are examples of metaphorical code-switching, in which emotional expression shifts the topic of the discourse, albeit temporarily (see Blom and Gumperz, 2000). Moreover, due to the hierarchical levels of Javanese, a speaker is expected to know the socio-cultural aspects embedded in the language, and a failure to select an appropriate term might result in sociolinguistic consequences (Goebel, 2002). Throughout the novel, the use of Javanese to express emotion is noticeably absent. Predominantly using Indonesian in the whole discourse, then shifting to English for overt emotional statements, may have facilitated Iwan in transcending the socio-cultural values of Javanese, both as a language and a socio-cultural identification.

As Iwan learns English later in life, he has done so “in less affectively arousing circumstances” than he did Indonesian (or Javanese) (Bond and Lai, 2001: 185). In other words, for Iwan, a foreign language speaker who learns English as a young adult, his attachment towards English is probably less intense than his attachment to Javanese or Indonesian, his childhood languages. The English expressions employed by Iwan in these examples convey love in a register that is less embarrassing than it would be in his native language(s). Iwan, an active English user himself, finds English useful to express his love towards his sisters and his mother. This expression is not intended to create a gap between him and his mother, or between him and his readers, but rather to bridge his need to transparently express his feelings. He may not be accustomed to saying it in Indonesian (or Javanese) as he may have never done so in all his life. English can carry such a task. Switching from his primary language(s) to an additional language suggests that he has adopted a new lifestyle and mixed it together with his old self to create a “new” form of identity. Via the discursive uses of his linguistic sources, he strives to balance his local sense of identities as both Javanese and Indonesian while embracing the new self who is open and globally orientated (see Alsagoff, 2010).

Conclusion

The analysis has shown that love expression as a tool has a fluid capacity to cross the imaginary border between traditional social values and new cultural values. In this case, English, with its love expressions I love you, I need you, I miss you and with all my heart, is preferred over Indonesian (or Javanese), due to the “newly adopted culture” from the West in which English plays an important role. These cultural and social attributes may thwart many speakers from using Indonesian as a vehicle for expressing affection. Here, switching to English allows Iwan to express his feelings without embarrassment or awkwardness. This kind of switch from Indonesian to English is encouraged by social inhibition and cultural boundaries. While values have changed, language has not caught up with those changes, so speakers like Iwan seek a new language to express new values.

Shifting one’s way of speaking often indicates changes in one’s underlying social and cultural values. Indeed, language acts as the most immediate and sensitive device through which socio-cultural shifts can be measured (Blommaert, 2013). Moreover, switching from Indonesian to English when openly expressing love contributes to expanding meanings of Indonesian-ness by juxtaposing Indonesian with the language of Iwan’s newly adopted lifestyle. Unfortunately, the Indonesian language has not yet caught up with this new culture which results in code-switching in which English plays an important role. In this case, English is the language that carries a cultural notion that contributes to the development of a third or new culture (Kachru, 2008). The discussion shows us that code-switching reveals a cultural shift. In this manner, shifting cultural norms is partly indexed by the language choice in which English plays a more important role than Indonesian, the language of unity.

In relation to the function of code-switching, as shown above, no situational switches have occurred in the scripted and overt love expressions. The code-switching where love expressions exist signals a topical shift or functions as a metaphorical switch (see Blom and Gumperz, 2000). It is, however, important to note that Iwan and his mother, with whom he usually utilises the metaphorical switches, do not share equal access and distribution of English, the marked linguistic resource. Further studies need to be done to investigate the power relation between speakers, assuming inequality of socio-cultural and linguistic access and distribution.

From this study, we learn that code-switching in popular novels has some discursive functions, which challenges purists’ belief that it is a random language act (see Buchori, 1994; Muslich, 2010; Rosidi, 2010) and confronts the conventional belief that code-switching as a language act requires non-bilingual/multilingual linguistic proficiency (Foster and Welsh, 2017). Finally, this study has provided evidence for the significant impact of popular print as a valuable sociolinguistic site for the study of second language use and acquisition, from which we can learn much about contemporary multilingualism.