Heng's second novel, it follows the life of a family in Singapore during the turbulence of World War II and amid nation building efforts through the fifties and sixties.
Several publications listed the novel as one of the best books of the year, and it was a finalist for several prizes including the Andrew Carnegie Medal for Excellence in Fiction.
Meanwhile, at school in another kampong—or fishing village—Ah Boon learns from Teacher Chia and finds himself enamored with Siok Mei, a girl whose parents are away fighting off the Japanese in mainland China.
Meanwhile, Eng Soon is captured, and Siok Mei, now hunted by the Ang Mohs for her dedication to the leftist cause, is hidden on Ah Boon's island in the Pacific Ocean.
In his office, Ah Boon is asked if he can help with the land reclamation project by locating the islands that Natalie attempted to find on behalf of the Gah Men.
Realizing that Siok Mei is trying to trick him with love in order to free herself and Eng Soon, Ah Boon ultimately sells her out and reveals the locations of the islands to the Gah Men.
Previously neglected by his father, his power to see islands becomes a way for them to bond, and it provides him with a source of confidence as he assumes a mystical role in the kampong's economic prosperity through fishing.
After the Japanese take over Singapore, he and his brother leave their kampong to register themselves with the newly established colonial government, which leads to his death.
When the Gah Men assume power in Singapore, he holds true to his skepticism of authority and ultimately opposes Ah Boon's attempts to relocate the kampong into apartment-style living.
As a result, Heng felt a "strange temporal dislocation" being wedged between her aunts' stories of poverty and her own upbringing in relative prosperity.
[5] At the time, Heng was a student at the Michener Center for Writers and worked on parts of her novel with her thesis advisor, Elizabeth McCracken.
[4] By making him the protagonist for the novel later on, Heng had wanted to write a character that was growing, changing, and resolving his own identity against the backdrop of a country doing the same.
[4][9] Other inspirations were The Known World by Edward P. Jones, The Man with the Compound Eyes by Wu Ming-yi, State of Emergency by Jeremy Tiang, The Old Drift by Namwali Serpell, In the Skin of a Lion by Michael Ondaatje, and The Ten Thousand Things by Maria Dermoût.
"[10] Also in a starred review, Publishers Weekly stated that Ah Boon's story was greatly emotional and that, through him, Heng "articulates the individual sacrifices and the inevitable divides that arise in nation building, skillfully capturing the inner psyche of a Singaporean everyman caught between two immovable worlds.
Ho specifically saw the novel as a mostly historical realist one in the tradition of Suchen Christine Lim, Meira Chand, and Jeremy Tiang but appreciated how Heng's subtle usage of magical realism interfaced with the real-life history of Singapore.
Toward the end of her review, Ho appreciated that Heng's writing was multifaceted in perspective: "The novel does not villainise the project of nation-building outright.
There is nuance and reason in her portraits of the Gah Men and their goals of progress, particularly Natalie, who is sincerely devoted to improving the lives of lower-income groups.
"[12] Similarly, the Singaporean writer Jeremy Tiang, for the Los Angeles Review of Books, saw much to appreciate in Heng's decision to infuse Singapore's history with magical realism.
In the conclusion to his review, Tiang ultimately saw the book as a statement on the cost-benefit analysis of progress, what was or wasn't worth casting aside and sacrifice in the interest of forging one's future.
[1] Thu-huong Ha, writing in The Japan Times, discussed Heng's decision to focus more on the personal aspects of her characters rather than fully describing the political context within which they lived, stating that "This lack of explication could frustrate some, but it’s actually a strength of the novel: It’s not meant to hold readers’ hands or be an introductory course in Singaporean history and culture."
Ha also appreciated the subtlety of Heng's use of local language—such as "Jipunlang" rather than "Japanese" or "Gah Men" for bureaucrats—and additionally stated that the book would be appropriate for a screen adaptation, as "The plot and pacing are cinematic ... with a full cast of fleshed-out characters".
[13] Similarly, The Asian Review of Books noted "Heng’s writing is engaging from the beginning and it doesn’t take long for the story to pick up speed.
In conclusion, Zhang stated, "It is a pleasure to simply live alongside these characters ... we are being carried to a larger purpose, one that will ask us to change, to sacrifice, and yes, to want to be great.
"[15] In Electric Literature, Marisa Siegel observed how Heng wrote and positioned Ah Boon to be a protagonist whose existence and experiences interrogated "the interwoven legacies of war, colonialism, and nationalism have shaped her homeland."
[6] Similarly, The New Yorker, in a briefly noted review, wrote that the novel "illustrates the unsteadiness of both the physical environment and personal and political allegiances during a time of overwhelming historical change.
"[16] The Great Reclamation was longlisted for the Andrew Carnegie Medal for Excellence in Fiction, the Joyce Carol Oates Prize, and the Dublin Literary Award.