My take on “Lives of
others” and “The house without windows”.
It gave me a great sense of accomplishment
when I finished “The Silk Roads”. A 600 page Magnus Opus by Peter Frankopan, it
was a crash course on the major threads running through history of the world in
the last 3000 years. I felt that I was sitting in a time machine seeing the
characters who had shaped their times very closely. The author had shown me the
picture, telling me all about it without letting me know what he felt about it.
He had told the story. The good and the bad were for me to decide. I had been
entertained by the book. Yet, upon completion I felt tired. Every page of the
book, though lucidly written, had so much trivia that often one had to
literally keep the book down and absorb as much of it as possible. I am not
that good a sponge, anyway.
I needed a break. A break to
recuperate and rekindle the fire I have had for historical, non-fiction
literature.
In other words, I needed fiction.
I stumbled upon two which had
been gathering dust on my bookshelf for the last six months. Neel Mukherjee’s
“The Lives of others” and Nadia Hashimi’s “House without windows”. Both the
authors have a few things in common. Both are not native English speakers. Both
come from rich cultures – Bengali and Afghan. And interestingly, both live in
the west. I decided to go first with TLO ( The lives of others) and follow it
up with HWW ( House without windows).
TLO is set in 1960s Bengal. The story is about
the Ghosh family in Calcutta. It is a saga of family dynamics, relationships
and changing social mores in the backdrop of the socio-political revolutionary
changes happening in Bengal at that time. The author is very successful in way
he sketches out the human relationships, their evolution, major turning points
and his overall portrayal of life in a joint family. To this extent I must
acknowledge that the book did seem to serve the purpose for which I chose it.
However, one dominant strain of the story is about the eldest ghosh grandson (
the fact that I don’t remember his name is a good sign about fiction) runs into
the countryside to become a hard core revolutionary propagandist. So the book
takes a dual narrative. A chapter on family life told by the author alternated
with bourgeoisie bred boy’s first person account of life’s reality in the
countryside as a revolutionary. Just as I enjoyed the breezy portions of life
in Calcutta, every alternate chapter on descriptions of the rural Bengal and
the illusionary revolution was like a
marsh through which I had to plough my way. I wanted to avoid history and
reality but it loomed large before me. The descriptive passages took their toll on my
determination and towards the end I did skip some. My speed and enthusiasm
flagged with every alternate chapter. It was like a yoyo – up and down.
To brighten things up, it must be
said that the author’s style did include throwing an interesting word every now
and then. The Dictionary app came in handy and helped me chug along. The end of
the book had a telling contrast in the fates of the different characters,
emphasising the cycle of suffering,
expectations and resulting tragedy. The socio-cultural aspect of the book is
not given too much explanation and background. It is a book written, i feel,
keeping the Indian reader in mind.
The book is easy in parts but
needs serious efforts in others. Being a dual narrative, which converges in the
end it is a book which would be more satisfying to read in long sessions as
opposed to short busts to get a sense of progress. The author has not bothered
to give it the positive sunny ending which for me is another peculiarity of the
book. Set in the 60s, and written a good 45 years later, the author has , it
seems, had the benefit of hindsight.
On the other hand, HWW is a story
about an afghan lady accused of murdering her husband and the legal battle
which ensues. A story set in a post Taliban, international aid run Afghanistan,
the expatriate angle cannot be left out. It comes in form of a young expatriate
afghan laywer who leads the protagonists’ legal fight. Most of the characters
are fleshed out in detail. A lot of effort is made by the author to explain
afghan culture, traditions and social mores. The concept of honour is dominant
theme which is threshed out from beginning to end. I think this is more a requirement for
western audiences who are way more distant from the afghan setting vis-a-vis
us.
The manner of story telling is
more conventional as compared to TLO. It is linear which makes it a lot more
pacy. It can be read in short spells of a chapter to get a sense that the plot
had progressed. It is perfectly suited for the quick half hour of reading one
requires before lights off! The 300 odd pages also give it the right length –
ending just before it could become a drag. On the vocabulary front, it is not
as rich. The style of writing is lucid but not too many words requiring the
dictionary.
A conscious effort has been made
by the author to insure a happy ending. Even if it means orchestrating a number
of highly unlikely co-incidences by the author, But hey, who cares? Is that not
why I wanted fiction! Also, for a war
ravaged country this is in tune with the hope associated with its rebirth post
the fall of the Taliban. The true force of the plot comes through right in the
end – its import can be understood keeping in mind the unequal gender relations
in Afghan society. For the women of such a society, this novel is indeed a
breeze of liberating freshness.
Both the books read one after the
other gave me a good break from my usual staple of non –fiction. Having
finished them, I was lucky to get a personally signed copy of “The Last Sunset”
by the author Captain Amarinder Singh – a story of Maharaja Ranjit Singh, the
Sikh Empire, its decline and ultimate collapse. Back to hardcore Military
History, I am one-third through with it! Till I finish, Ciao.
TLO and HWW was the right break I
needed before going back to my comfort and interest zone. Back to sponge mode!
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