Publisher's Synopsis
"You look like a decent girl-poised and classy. You do have more than a passing interest in Jazz music, don't you?'' "I don't like to talk about Jazz music because it's the epitome of good taste, and I happen to be the epitome of bad taste! I don't like things that people with taste like.""Seventeen years old and conscripted into the intellectual left. And like a good lefty, you just have to practice reverse snobbery." I was shocked at myself too, Diary. Before meeting Arjun you could say that I was a huge fan of Sacha Stevenson. So why did I resent her then? Did this mean that I was falling in love with my new friend? Oh no Diary, a girl is supposed to fall in love with the thirty-first man that comes along-not the first! Not the first man! But if this wasn't love, then what was it? Why was I jealous of any girl he paid attention to?"With all due respect Mas Arjun," I heard myself say in a small voice. "I said central Javanese, not...not...""Sensual Javanese? Relax Mbak Dewi, let your hair down a little! It's just a slip of the tongue. It's normal for red-blooded teenagers with raging hormones to think a lot of a topic that you for some reason think, it is taboo."Gosh diary, what have I done? Have I taken shelter in a lion's den? God knows I said 'central Javanese'- not 'sensual Javanese'! He was just pretending to be hard of hearing, and as deaf as everybody's great-grandfather! Did he think he could pull the wool over my eyes just because I'm a teenager?He knew I was angry Diary, that's why he spoke very gently when he asked, '' Did you know that Rabindranath Tagore loved Javanese court dances a lot? And did you know that my paternal grandfather came from Calcutta- a repercussion of Tagore's visit to Java?"Dear Diary, today is Bastille Day- the anniversary of the storming of the Bastille by courageous French revolutionaries in 1789. That incident which took place exactly 225 years ago was the catalyst that gave us commoners in the entire universe the freedom which we now take for granted. Thank you France for giving us commoners the right to justice and equality, and the right to vote for the government of our choice. Diary, it's them- the angry French revolutionaries! But why in heavens name are they after me? I'm not Marie Antoinette - I'm Dewi Kartini. I'm from the peasant class - a member of the third estate! And it wasn't me who uttered ''Let them eat cake!''. That was Marie Antoinette- and she said it with a sneer and a snigger. Cross my heart and hope to die! Demi Allah I cried.''Liberty! Equality and Fraternity!" and " Power to the serf!" "Does it bother you, Arjun, that Dewi is shy?" "Actually no, Tante. I don't think she's going to be shy forever. In fact, I find her shyness rather endearing. There's something inherently sexy about a shy person. Every time Dewi gives me two of herself. I know there are eight more in her treasure trove of love and passion for me to dig in and enjoy."A cup of Java'' traces the love between Dewi, a 17-year-old teenager, born and raised in Yogyakarta, and Arjun the half-man half-god, well-heeled man-about-town Jakartan musician. In spite of her illustrious family background- her paternal grandfather was a former deputy governor of Jakarta, her maternal grandmother is a Dalang extraordinaire, their stuttering love threatens to splutter to death without ever taking off because despite Dewi's beauty, talents, intelligence, and wit, she is as shy as a rosebud growing alone in the wilderness of Merapi, the singularly beautiful, smoking-hot volcano that dominates the Yogyanese landscape.If you think that even you can be a millionaire musician, dream on...If you would like to know more about this made-in-heaven, smoldering love that takes place on earth, read on...
