This chapter takes as its starting point a comparison of the trajectories of two women from different generations and different ethnic and religious backgrounds. Both were to a considerable degree ‘self-made’ women, and one question raised by their narratives is how is marriage relevant to their success? The stories that these women tell are replete with ethical judgements and reflections on their own and their parents’ marriages as well as those about others. The apparently tangential significance of marriage in these stories is suggestive. Seemingly, a necessary part of a normative life course even in an unconventional scenario, marriage here takes forms that are at once accepted and also ‘transgressive’. Both women had married foreign husbands; in one case, this ended in divorce; in the other, what seemed a successful partnership endured. We see how marriage allows the expansion of convention but, paradoxically, also reinforces social norms. Indeed, at the boundaries of difference and what is acceptable, marriage has the capacity to be re-enfolded into what is normative through its conventionality. In this way, it holds a promise of transformation for individuals and families, and for wider communities and nations.

This chapter sets the scene in urban Penang at the time of research through a consideration of public discourses about marriage and gender relations. It examines newspaper accounts, public events, debates, exhibitions and theatrical productions in Penang’s capital, George Town. Alongside interviews with lawyers, these public discourses show how discussions about what are perceived by many as ‘dysfunctional relations’, including child marriage, polygamy, the conversion of minors to Islam, divorce and LGBTQ rights, have the capacity to expand and take on a life of their own at moments of national tension. The chapter illuminates the dense connections between kinship, gender, ethnicity, religion and law. Stories about child marriage at different political moments – to take one example – condense ethical and political concerns and contestations in times of radical change.

This chapter returns to the import of marriage as an institution at the interface between intimate, personal lives and wider political transformation. It highlights the experiences of those who have remained unmarried beyond the usual marrying age and draws on discussions of ethical imagination from earlier in the book to explore some submerged connections between non-marriage and social activism. The multiple temporalities in which reflecting on marriage occurs (here by those who remain unmarried) reveal how such judgements constitute imaginative and political work. Involvement in gender-related activism is a possible trajectory for those concerned about women’s or LGBTQ rights. The potential fractures between conservative Islam and the more liberal attitudes of urban, middle-class, youthful Malaysians constitute a zone of contention – but also, for some, a suggestive field for imaginative reflection about their own situation, about the marriage of their parents or those of siblings or friends. In these fissures, transformative standpoints and visions may carry the seeds of wider political change.

The conclusion draws together the themes of the chapters, returning to the analogy between marriage and anthropology as encounters with difference. Weaving together the stories of two protagonists encountered in the Introduction with the themes of ethical imagination and temporality, it draws out the broader significance of the everyday labour of moral imagination in kinship relations, and of marriage as a crucible of long-term social transformation. The discussion reflects on the importance of attending anthropologically to seemingly insignificant, everyday, domestic encounters and judgements, and to their cumulative effects.

This chapter looks at forms of uncertainty that occur at different stages of married life. A central question here is what does uncertainty produce? The chapter focuses partly on Malay protagonists and on two particularly fragile moments in Malay marriage: during betrothal and, counterintuitively, much later on, after several decades, when one might expect marriages to be highly stable. The former was a pattern familiar from earlier research. But some older Malay women spoke of a more recent trend – for husbands of many years to marry a younger woman polygamously. Meanwhile, other, non-Malay, couples have adopted unconventional living arrangements or have taken unusual paths to suit their particular circumstances. In considering how different kinds of marital uncertainty play out, the significance of expectations about marriage and the registers of temporality through which they are calibrated and recalibrated are illuminated. The force of unanticipated events stimulates the reflection of protagonists and their consociates – as readers may recognise from their own experiences – reformulating ideas of what is appropriate or acceptable behaviour, and precipitating new ethical stances.

This chapter takes forward the exploration of marriage as difference through an examination of what are locally perceived as ‘mixed’ marriages in Penang. Difference can be calibrated in many registers – including age, wealth, class, familial background, religion, language, ‘race’ and ethnicity. The cultural and ethnic diversity of Penang offers unusual scope for marrying outside familiar boundaries. But which sorts of difference are most salient, and which boundaries are more permeable and more easy to bridge? ‘Malayness’ and Islam have a historically privileged legal status in Malaysia, and marrying a Muslim legally requires a non-Muslim spouse to convert. The bodily, culinary, religious and legal concomitants of this conversion are likely to impact close family members of a non-Muslim partner. At the extreme end of a range of possibilities, ‘mixed’ couples encountering or expecting opposition from their families sometimes elope to marry. But, after marriage, a long process of accommodation and absorption is likely to occur. Experiences of ‘mixed’ marriage and the negotiation of difference, which is part of marriage everywhere, offer a perspective on other changes in Malaysia over several decades. But more broadly, it provides a way to understand how intimate worlds may generate wider social transformation.

This chapter examines the intimate world of the family through an intergenerational lens. Education and work outside the home are understood by many women in Malaysia, as elsewhere, to have fundamentally altered the dynamics of conjugality. Variations in individual life courses, availability of resources, education and ethnic or religious backgrounds partly shape trajectories of life and marriage. Exploring continuity and change between generations, we see how marriage encapsulates both possibilities, enabling radical departures from conventional norms under the guise of conformity as well as the replication of past patterns. The binary of ‘arrangement’ versus ‘choice’ constitutes, simultaneously, a reference point and a misleading way to calibrate transformation – as anthropologists have shown for South Asia. Beyond this, marriages mark time, and are a means to tell and reflect upon family histories. Efforts to change the course of events or escape cycles of misfortune may be rare and difficult to achieve. Reflecting on differences and change across generations engages qualities of moral imagination, and is part of making history.

The arguments of the book are laid out, beginning with questions that probe the apparent obviousness of marriage as an institution. What does marriage do? How can we account for both its historical persistence and its cultural and historical variability as an institution? Rather than see it as an essentially conservative and normative institution, this book argues that marriage is, on the contrary, a crucible of transformation – of personal, familial and wider political relations. This is partly a result of the unique position it holds as an intimate relation but also a political, legal and religious one. The conventionality of marriage provides a deceptive cloak of conformity masking the elasticity of what may be acceptable to spouses, families and communities. The argument is grounded in an ethnography of marriage in contemporary Penang but draws on a range of comparative materials from anthropology, literature, films and other sources. The main themes of the book are introduced: marriage as continuity of patterns in earlier generations and, simultaneously, as divergence from these; an overview of the anthropology of marriage and its lacunae; marriage as ethical labour in and on time; and marriage as an everyday work of moral imagination. The chapters are outlined.

This chapter introduces an unexpected analogy between marriage and anthropology, both being encounters with difference that have transformative capacities – themes that are returned to throughout the book. Research on marriage in Penang recalls the author’s earlier fieldwork on kinship and domestic relations on the island of Langkawi in Malaysia in the 1980s. The chapter reflects on the author’s decades-long anthropological engagement with Malaysia and traces some of the major changes that have occurred there. It considers the very different contexts of research – rural and urban – over these years and the concomitants of a long-term anthropological commitment.

Chapter 6 looks at how money acts both as an element in the moral concretion of the revolution’s moral project – one that here takes the form also of a ‘moral economy’ – but also a prime catalyst for its deterioration in the face of the pervasive condition of moral-cum-material decline Cubans call necesidad, intimating a sense of destitution that is felt to exert itself as an uncontrollable force. The relation between the revolution and what lies beyond it, then, is seen here through the prism of the duality of money as both a qualitative token of value and quantitative scale for commensuration. The former is central to the way pesos (Cuba’s national currency, issued by the revolutionary state) operate as moral concretions of the revolution, marking out the scope of its moral economy. The latter, however, comes into its own with the use of US dollars and locally issued currencies pegged to it, which have become increasingly pervasive in everyday consumption since the 1990s. In its capacity to commensurate all values quantitatively, the dollar rubs out the distinction between the state’s moral economy and the variously licit and informal realms of transaction that have grown alongside it in Cuba. Crucially, in this way, it tends to trump the revolution’s effort to position itself as transcendental condition of possibility for life, encompassing it with its own transcendental scope.

This chapter lays out the central idea of revolution as a world-making, cosmogonic project, charting out the areas of social life in which this can be seen in the experience of revolutionary transformation in Cuba. It sets the coordinates of the relational analysis that the book as a whole proposes as a major intellectual dividend of its anthropological approach to the study of revolutionary politics. Placing its argument in the context of the longstanding debate about the role of social relations as at once the empirical focus and prime heuristic device of anthropological research, including the current literature on ‘relationism’ to which this debate has given rise, the chapter explains how a focus on the shapes of relations can unpack the inner dynamics of revolution as a totalizing social transformation.

This chapter develops a model of the relationship between revolution and person with detailed reference to the life and family histories collected in Havana in the late 1960s by the American anthropologists Oscar and Ruth Lewis and the team of researchers they trained in Cuba. The focus here is on ethnographic material from the Lewis’ volumes pertaining to people’s revolutionary ‘integration’ through participation in state-coordinated mass organizations, and particularly the so-called Committees for the Defence of the Revolution (CDRs). Tracking ethnographically the ways and degrees to which the Lewis’ respondents got involved in these neighbourhood level structures, the chapter develops a model of revolutionary personhood that emphasises the duality between ‘role’ and ‘person’. Due to the totalizing way it ensconces itself in every aspect of everyday life, this duality marks out the coordinates for people’s continual acts of comparison and calibration between the two, which becomes the prime format of daily social life in revolutionary Cuba. By the same token, the duality of role and person marks out the limits of the revolution’s transcendentalizing project, whose containing force reaches only as far as its designation of roles via the state’s structures can take it, leaving the remainders of people beyond its scope.