February 3, 2009
A review of The God of Small Things in the style of the same novel:
When historical circumstances of intricate inevitability converge upon Small Places like Ayemenem, Bad Things Happen.
Circumstances include things like:
a) Caste Systems
b) Family Pride
c) Marxist Politics
d) Oppressed Female Sex-shoo-a-lee-tee.
a) Caste Systems
b) Family Pride
c) Marxist Politics
d) Oppressed Female Sex-shoo-a-lee-tee.
This novel is an abruptly poetic account of Some Bad Things That Happened. The Things made lots of noises and occurred amongst creatively named shades of green. The abruptness comes from questionable. Sentence structure. That is a little overdone. But the poetry emerges too, irreverently, impressionistically, villanelle-ly. Contrary to Expectations, though, this book does not simply give up its secrets in a hyperelegant manner.
Instead it is an eventually comprehensive compilation of Brittle Historical Chips, the gradual introduction of which may initially have you searching for An Arrative Thread. Be consoled that everything comes together, tessellated, like the release of a long-held breath.
One thing is for sure in Roy’s vision: when History has you in its sights, it never lets go. Also, History can be just another name or excuse for Not Doing the Right and Hard Thing. There is talk of Putting One’s Hand into History’s Waiting Glove, etc. It took me a little while and a little context (Roy’s fierce activism) not to read this novel as simply fatalistic, a dirge sung over bodies lacking the wherewithal to defy inevitable decline. But that would be a Nincomplete Reading of this book. Consider Roy’s opinion of Choices as historically paramount even in Unwinnable Battles.
I didn’t mind it. But quite slow at the start.
Comments (6)
nico | 3rd Feb 09 | 11:08 pm |
I read this about ten years ago and it probably went over my head for the most part but I love Arundhati Roy and her journalism.
tuesday | 4th Feb 09 | 9:16 am |
This is hilarious! I actually loved the novel for all the reasons you mentioned. Have to agree that she goes overboard with the chopping up of sentences, but I forgave her because the atmosphere of the book was so lovely.
estelle | 4th Feb 09 | 11:01 am |
Nico — I think I’m fairly behind with reading this book. I had it on my homeward plane trip, and my neighbour told me she’d read it ten years ago, too. I’m pretty sure my parents had a copy in the house when I was growing up. Sometimes I find it impossible to dredge up the will to read high profile books until after the hubbub has died down.
Your comment made me think of something else I wanted to say about the book, too! I’ve added it to the review.
Tuesday — Ain’t nothing like a reviewer who thinks she’s versatile. I think ten years down the track, the choppiness has dated a little bit but some of her prose is certainly still worthwhile reading. I do love the way people who grew up in different cultures portray those cultures. It’s a veritable fount of fantastic material for plot and voice.
verbivore | 5th Feb 09 | 3:02 am |
I loved this novel when I read it, mostly for the reasons you mention. But I wonder if she was one of the first contemporary mainstream writers to play with language like that and so it seemed less annoying, less contrived when it first came out. If I read something like that now, I’d be somewhat suspicious.
estelle | 5th Feb 09 | 5:42 pm |
Verbivore — I know that I was mired in Austen- and Bronte-land when this book came out, and I wasn’t a big contemporary fiction reader then, so I can’t do any helpful retrospective comparisons.
I am sure I would have loved Roy’s verbal innovation ten years ago too. But some stylistic tics become distracting when they’re overdone. Perhaps it is a passage-of-time thing, but maybe it’s also a reading experience thing — we’re much more used to ‘tricks’ now, perhaps.
Jim Remy | 29th Sep 09 | 1:08 pm |
Yes – reviews like this are still funny even when I haven't read the book yet – plus you used the word tessellated aptly. big ups