While there were some real gems in this book, and for its length it does deliver in terms of the growth of the narrator and content, there is something about the book that didn't "do it" for me. I'm trying to deconstruct that feeling - my mother read it and enjoyed it much more than I did, and I think the fact that I'm a white American non-immigrant might be an element of it. The writing style, also, was not something I'm used to. I understand that this is the author's voice, and that he's a Princeton-educated and clearly a genius, and in the sense of the writing style communicating a lot about his personality it was excellent. The problem I had with it was that it kind of made me think of his personality as being very mechanical, like an encyclopedia, and even the very emotional, vulnerable, or tender passages about his relationship, or about home, seemed to me too clinical and scientific.
I don't think I need to go too deeply into how much I appreciated other elements of the story, such as the political nature and the criticism of violence it makes. Maybe the book simply wasn't what I was in the mood for at the time. I would really like to hear Kim and Devika's thoughts on it (or anyone who reads it) because I'm sure there are things I'm missing or perspectives I'm neglecting.
Bryan,
ReplyDeleteWhat careful, insightful observations you made! I definitely agree with you... Changez’s narration is mechanical. It didn't bother me so much, mainly because I interpreted that stiffness as him trying to appease the character he is speaking to (presumably an American, perhaps even a CIA operative?? Kind of up in the air). It’s like he is constantly trying to prove that although he is from Pakistan and an “outsider”, (even though they are in Pakistan in the novel!!) he is a Princeton educated, Wall street character who should belong or be accepted by the American. He is constantly trying to prove his worthiness and how really they are just alike. In reference to the overall style, I believe Hamid was trying to emulate Albert Camus’ style of writing in The Fall (at least according to my teacher… which was convenient considering we were reading that novel as well this semester!).
Conversely, while I thoroughly enjoyed getting Changez’s perspective on America and terrorism and capitalism, I have to admit I was most taken with the incredibly intricate and fascinating relationship between Changez and Erica. I was so ambivalent towards Erica at some points… do I like her? Do I not like her character? She seems like a tease to Changez and it was interesting how she obviously came from wealth and status but seemed kind of modest, almost embarrassed, about that, choosing an alternative route of work by writing as an outlet (rather than some stereotypical or expected elite position in law or medicine or something like that).
No, but really, I quickly realized that I was totally in love with Erica’s character; the delicacy of her “bruise” and her open wound from the death of her beloved Chris… I felt like the most genuinely unique and touching moments in the novel were in dealing with how she attempted to reconcile her world post-loss (which I acknowledge, I may have a lingering bias towards). I didn’t really understand Changez’s blind love for her, but I guess she becomes that connection between where he comes from and the world he desperately wants to be part of. While I thought the scenes surrounding her disappearance from the hospital (slash suicide) were very well-written, I was kind of bummed. I was rooting for her to find a way to work through it and become a better happier person, and for her to finally accept Changez’s love. Though I don’t know if he really loved her. I don’t think he really truly knew her, so I guess it’s difficult to say whether you truly love someone if you don’t know them. (Though how much do you ever know people?! Oyyy I’m getting into a much bigger discussion here…)
Anyways. I really interpreted the novel to be about what its like to be an outsider in a different world, a realm unfamiliar to you (for Changez, for Erica, and even arguably for the American in his dining experience), which was so appropriate while I was abroad! Thanks for taking the time to read it, Bryan! xoxo
This is fascinating!!
ReplyDeleteI want to just share some responses I had to what both of you said, and then I will share my thoughts.
Bryan, I find it interesting that the 'mechanical' quality of Changez's voice seemed unemotional; for me, that voice itself seemed to mirror many people's actual approach to life, emotions, etc. The realness of the voice made it human, and so it evoked a sort of compassion in me. Here's a man, eating his 'tiffin' or Dinner (my grandmother and other members of her generation say 'tiffin' -- borrowed from the British, you know) and he has an opportunity he makes for himself to speak about his experiences. It's almost stream-of-consciousness style. He's trying to tell it and as he tells it, make sense of it. Or so it seemed to me. A brave effort, bound to fail.
Kim! I know Erica stuck out to you, but some of the things you said struck me, because I had perceived some details related to Erica's life and 'status' entirely differently. I thought her wealthy background could AFFORD her the opportunity to be a writer (she's so wealthy that she didn't even have to consider a professional degree, I felt). I thought her relationship with Chris was all consuming, and I even likened her disappearance/suicide to the ancient Hindu rite in patriarchal communities -- widows jump into the flames during their husbands's cremations. I was rooting for her as well! I wanted her to publish her novel and reject Changez's love (because I didn't think he knew her either, Kim, at all... he wanted her to feel loved, he objectified her, not in the typical way, but as a sort of "AMERICA" object, I felt), and leave her house next to Chris's and just... find a place to just be. To carry Chris with her and make his memory something she could lean on, and not surrender to.
My favorite line in this book is the one in which Changez describes his family's condition - nostalgia is their crack cocaine. I feel like this is true of aging rich families in South Asia... I feel it sometimes here in Coimbatore, my grandmother recalling the grandeur of her father and mother's house, the magnanimous behavior towards 'the impovrished' and the ability to provide for almost 10 children. Tender and vulnerable, that's what she looks like to me when she fades back into another time and place. Changez's family does this, and so too does he, when he sits and narrates those years in America.
Love you both! India is great, and internet is intermittant, but sending all my Love, and TO EMS AND VIC TOO!
Devika, sorry, I did read this some time ago but wasn't sure how to respond.
ReplyDeleteI did also interpret Erica's writing occupation as a consequence of her privilege. She stuck out to me as well. I know I've had a hard time escaping memories of even very short relationships and the idea of being trapped like that is terrifying, having just glimpsed it. I like the (naive, perhaps) ambiguity of her disappearance.
RE: Devika's favorite part: My fascination in the stories I've been reading (and the movies I've been watching) has been memory/forgetting, and the impact either one of those decisions has, how we construct or secure our memories, what role they play in our understanding of ourselves and how we form our identity. What is the balance between memory as addiction and total amnesia? How "new" can we be, and does thinking of ourselves as "new" or having any kind of "fresh start" or being able to "create ourselves" ("this is the first day of the rest of your life" kind of talk) mean a necessary forgetting of some part of ourselves? I could just keep asking!
Devika, any chance you might post some excerpt of anything you've been writing or working on?
Love,
Truly,
Bryan
Bryan,
ReplyDeleteI love what you bring up about memory and forgetting. Obviously Erica becomes absorbed by her memories, so much so she is crippled by them and unable to function in her daily life. I wonder if she has difficulty in finding the balance between moving on and letting go, wanting to give "credit" to her relationship with Chris by not being able to move forward or love another man or be happy in any genuine way. As if not being absorbed in his memory would be a disservice to him, a guilt she feels in letting go.
I imagine, as you said, a new fresh start for Erica would mean forgetting that part of herself that grew up with Chris by her side, as both her best friend and lover. Because he was such a part of her identity, as I've mentioned, losing him was already losing a part of herself, and trying to rebuild yet again would be like saying goodbye to that former person she thought she was. And so she tries to cling to that "self" as a means of keeping him alive and with her. And because she doesn't know who to be without that.
The same can go for a nation, a parallel Hamid so frequently attempts to make in the novel. As Devika mentioned, the nostalgia as crack cocaine that she even recognized in Coimbatore, and that I even can find here in America in my own family. A certain fondness for the old days, that may be misplaced even. That's the funny thing about memory, how you can distort it to make it seem or feel better than it actually was (or worse, if you're feeling victimized). It's funny, how people can remember things entirely differently... I'll tell a personal story here... I was sitting in my grandmother's house one Thanksgiving with my father and my aunt and we were all sitting around talking about my late grandfather. Someone brought up a baseball game of my father's that they all attended, and this is where the discrepancy began. My father remembered that neither of his parents EVER came to his baseball games, contrary to my aunt and grandma remembering that they came to this one, and then my aunt remembers my grandfather getting in a fight with someone in the stands, while my grandmother said it was the loveliest time she'd ever had in her life. So it was truly very interesting how each of them could have such drastic interpretations of the event, and they went on to live their lives in accordance to such... My grandmother believing her marriage was perfect and rosy even after he passed away, while my aunt and uncles seem to remember my grandfather as domineering. My aunt believing my grandfather was abusive. My father believing that his parents didn't care enough about him to come to his sports games, leading him to not only come to all of my brother and mine sports games but to also coach our teams, haha. I don't know, I just find that all really fascinating, how each person can completely distort a memory to fit and design their own personal construct.
Conversely, it can be just as dangerous to have, as you say, "total amnesia". What do you guys think about that? I think that suggest denial, and an unhealthy attitude towards the past. But I don't really know too many people with that perspective on memory.
Love you guys. xoxo