Apu’s World

Reading Kamila Shamsie’s ‘Burnt Shadows’ feels a little like drinking a tumbler of weak filter coffee : you keep hoping that the strength of the decoction will hit you and deliver that caffeine rush as you go along, but it never does. One of the ‘big’ Pakistani novels to come out this year, the novel moves over a very wide and ambitious canvas, and it makes for some interesting reading in parts, but eventually, left this reader feeling somewhat underwhelmed.

The story of a hibakusha, an atomic bomb survivor from Japan, ‘Burnt Shadows’ moves from Nagasaki to partition-era Delhi to the newly formed country of Pakistan and finally to the United States. The first half of the novel set in Tokyo and Delhi is perhaps the most interesting part and draws us into the horrors of the atomic aftermath. Hiroko, the central character of the novel, whose life is torn apart by the bomb, flees to Delhi, clutching at straws to keep herself alive.

Shamsie details beautifully the intersection of two worlds in Delhi - the colonial ‘burra-saheb’ life with its class distinctions, elegance and yet, underlying anxieties and the world of artisan Muslim families in Old Delhi - rich in family ties and obligation and the weight of traditions, certain that life will continue as it has for generations, even as the threat of Partition nears their lives. Hiroko, the outsider arrives at the intersection of both these worlds and ironically, at the cusp of another conflict.

The second half of the novel which deals with the life that Hiroko and her newfound love, Sajjad make for themselves in Pakistan and the complications brought on by their never-quite-at-home son, Raza is somehow not as compelling. Where all the characters in the first half are so well grounded, in the second half, beyond Hiroko herself, everyone else is elusive. I also felt as though from this point on, the characters start ’serving a larger cause’ and become theatre artistes acting in the service of themes such as disarmament and terrorism. In short, they stopped speaking with their own voices. Raza, especially is a nebulous character, his motivations and his very nature unclear. Considering how central he is to the plot, this is quite damaging.

In summary : A decent enough read, but one wishes the author had exchanged some width for depth.

apu The Literary life

Lately, I seem to be hearing a lot about the break-up of marriages and subsequent divorces. There was the Hiphop Grandmom writing on incompatible alliances and how they’ve led to the breakdown of marriages. Then, today, over the F Word Blog, I read a piece on how British Tory party members want a provision for a ‘three month cooling off’ period in divorce cases. If you look at the comments section on HHG’s piece as well, you will see one line of thought that couples are getting divorced for “frivolous” reasons.

In the last 3 years, I’ve seen a number of people in my own circle applying for divorce. Now, the plural of anecdote is not data, but considering the friends I’ve seen and human nature and Indian society, I somehow feel that people who are going in for a divorce are not doing so for frivolous reasons or on a whim. You may not agree with their specific reason, or you may think they should have tried harder, but whatever it is, I feel divorce is still a very hard route to take, not the easy way out.

Why?

Read the rest, over at Ultraviolet…

apu Other Social issues in India, Women & Feminism

I must confess I often think far more than I should about how many people are reading this blog, or what I should be writing about (though as the blog grows older, I do it far lesser). Now, some vindication with this silly test.

My weblog owns 12.5 % of me.
Does your weblog own you?

Ha. 12.5% isn’t so bad. I’m still safe. What about you?

apu In General

Reading S. Ramakrishnan’s novel, ‘Urupasi’ at first gave me the feeling that I was seeing the world from behind a moving camera that spun around at arbitrary angles every other minute. Despite this sensation, I was soon hooked.

(pic courtesy Uyirmai Padippagam)

The novel uses an imaginative style, where three friends get together over the death of a fourth one, and the narrative moves back and forth between each of them, and sometimes even flutters over them, allowing us to see all three of them from an outsider’s perspective. Sampath, the dead man is the one whose perspective is missing, and yet, he dominates the novel through the eyes of the other three.

This style makes for some interesting, even if at times, difficult reading. At times, the jumps from one character to another are so abrupt that it is difficult for the reader to make the shift easily. And yet, each character’s narrative, once you get into it, is completely coherent and insightful. Ramakrishnan’s style is somewhat twisted and the sentences take some unravelling, but they match perfectly the mood of the novel which feels like an excursion into the darkness of the human mind.

None of the speakers talk about themselves very much; the conversations revolves around their youth and always, always comes back to Sampath. Yet, in the process, in almost Camus-like fashion, the incomplete-ness of their lives is revealed. Sampath, the dead man is the loser, the one who couldn’t ‘make it’, the one who almost wilfully destroys himself, and yet, by the end of the novel, we see that viewed against the backdrop of youthful idealism, each one of the men is a loser.

Publishers: Uyirmai Padippagam

Price: Rs. 75

apu The Literary life

Warning: A rambling and somewhat personal post follows…

Some readers of this blog may be aware that I dabble in fiction writing, among other interests. In the past year, I’ve tried my hand at writing a novel, but given up. I don’t think I’m ready yet, and it certainly needs a lot more discipline that what I bring to it now. What I have been working on though is short stories. And, I have been working consciously on improving them - not just writing a story as it takes my fancy (as I used to), but writing more thoughtfully, paying attention to the language, to the characters. Yet, I would not place myself in the category of highly innovative or experimentative writers. No modesty here, just an awareness that I tend more towards a classical style and am still in favour of a good story told well even if the narrative is not earth-shattering.

I’ve never made any serious attempts to get published, partly because I don’t yet have a large enough body of work and partly because I’m too lazy to do what a friend calls ‘the incremental route’, i.e. submit to contests and anthologies, start getting in your leg slowly and hope to get noticed. Frankly, that is a lot of work, and it’s something I haven’t been very focused on.

In some ways, I haven’t actually thought too much about getting published. I have been sharing my work with a few good friends who’ve really enjoyed it, and that, along with the process of writing itself, has been a delight. So, yes, even if I were never to be published, I’m not likely to kill myself.

Yet, a few days ago, I’d sent a sample to someone who is familiar with the publishing industry and this person got back to me in five minutes flat, saying that he thought it was unlikely the work would find a market, because it was just too plain and old-fashioned. In all truth, my heart sank.

While I haven’t been really focused or even enthusiastic about getting published, the thought that it could never be, still felt depressing. When I really thought about it, it wasn’t even so much about the not getting published bit - it was the feedback that my style was too plain and old-fashioned. Nobody wants to hear that of course!

On the other hand, as I spoke to another fellow-writer, surely there is space for different kinds of writing. And while ‘big publishers’ may only look at the next big avante-garde thing, surely there must be people around who are interested in the ordinary lives, the story of everyman and everywoman well told? While I want to keep improving my writing, I don’t want to transform it into something that doesn’t come naturally to me, for the sake of what the market wants. My work tends to be spare and the language doesn’t particularly stand out, but I like to think that the stories do capture something of the essence of people’s lives, especially lives that look ordinary on the surface.

The one thing about feedback of this sort though, is that it forces you to take a close and hard look at your work. I’ve been doing that for the last few days and I’m not vain enough to suppose that there isn’t plenty of room for improvement. Description and setting, for instance, continues to be a weak spot for me. So, back to the writing desk it is, I guess!

p.s: An interesting discussion on short stories here, over at Lotus’ blog.

apu In General, Original Fiction