Life as it is : A book review

Xiaolu Guo’s “20 fragments of a Ravenous Youth” chronicles the life of Fenfang Wang, a 21-year-old girl who leaves the monotony of her village to start a new life in one of the most fast-paced cities in the world, Beijing. Determined to live a modern life but ill prepared for it, Fenfang struggles to make her dream come true, after having travelled 1,800 miles for it.

Originally written in Chinese in 2000 and translated into English in 2008, the novel doesn’t have a clear beginning or an end. Rather, it consists of a series of disjoined chapters and thus, feels more like listening to a friend sharing some memories with you in no particular order.

The book is essentially a compilation of little moments that make up life. You get to know about Fenfang’s attempts to get a job as a film extra—she is the 6,787th person on the wait list for the job—her run-in with the police, estrangement with her parents, and financial struggles. Fenfang eventually gets around to writing scripts of her own, some of which are included in the novel.

But the story’s main theme is Fenfang’s failed relationships and how she desperately wants to be able to live independently of men. Fenfang is sardonic and detached, but full of dreams and is wise beyond her age. Her experiences are relatable and make her endearing, despite her sullen exterior.

20 Fragments of a Ravenous Youth isn’t a happy story. It’s filled with pain, longing, and the struggle to survive in a city that doesn’t allow a moment’s rest. But the melancholic undertone is what makes the book irresistible. You want to know how things turn out for Fenfang and if she can indeed get some of “those shiny things” in life. Guo doesn’t sugar coat the trials and tribulations of daily life neither does she neatly wrap up loose ends which lends the slim novel a realistic feel.

Apart from Fenfang, her miseries and the zeal to power through, you get to know quite a lot about Beijing too. The city comes alive through Guo’s descriptions. She also writes about Chinese culture and lifestyle thus giving us a window into one of the world’s most populous countries. In these travel restricted times, it’s the next best thing to actually being there.

Another fun thing about Guo’s writing is that she leaves you with many quotable quotes. The book has many little gems that will have your scribbling on your notebook as you read it.  All in all, it’s a wonderful little story, brilliantly written, that takes your mind off things for a while. Isn’t that a good enough reason to pick up Guo’s debut novel? I’d think so.

Fiction

20 Fragments of a Ravenous Youth

Xiaolu Guo

Translated from Chinese to English by Rebecca Morris and Pamela Casey

Published: 2008

Publisher: Vintage

Pages: 204, Paperback

Bleak but powerful

I have always been a little skeptical about translated works as it takes a lot to keep the essence of the original text intact. Often, a lot is indeed lost in translation. But as I want to read as vastly as possible I also frequently find myself searching for translated books. Had I given in to my cynicism and stayed away from translated works, I wouldn’t have discovered many writers that I have come to adore. Orhan Pamuk, Isabel Allende, and Haruki Murakami are on the top of my list of authors whose English translations have charmed me. At times, though, I wish I could read the original works.

Likewise, I love reading Urdu poetry in translation. I first read the English version and then struggle with Urdu. There is something extremely romantic and calming about the way Urdu rolls off your tongue. Try it! Faiz Ahmed Faiz and Mirza Ghalib are my constant favorites.

I picked up Saadat Hasan Manto’s ‘Bombay Stories’ because I wanted to read more Urdu writers and not just stick to the occasional poetry and I couldn’t have had a better start. Translated from Urdu by Matt Reeck and Aftab Ahmad, you can see, hear, and feel the stories—through characters Manto feels most drawn to: immigrants, prostitutes, gangsters, those struggling to survive, the hopeful ones, and the hardened souls.

Born in 1912, Manto moved to Bombay from Amritsar in 1936 and made it his home. He had actually written a wistful declaration, ‘Main chalta-phirta Bambai hoon’ (I am a walking, talking Bombay) that expresses how the city was a big part of his identity. However, Bombay isn’t romanticized in Manto’s stories. As a reader you get a sense of the place and feel like you know its inhabitants, even if you have never set foot in the city.

Manto is best known for stories about the partition of the subcontinent after India’s independence in 1947. Most of the 14 stories in Bombay Stories were written after he moved to Pakistan in 1948. Thus, a longing for the city he had just left is clearly evident.

The most interesting character in the book is Manto himself who appears in several stories. He sets up meetings for his actor friends, tries to care for the women they hurt, and reflects on what men and women are capable of doing to each other. Manto, who died in 1955 at 42 after a long battle with alcoholism, has in a way been immortalized by and in his stories.

Bombay Stories feels as relevant today as it was when it was written over 70 years ago, though Manto did occasionally get tried for obscenity. He is believed to have said that if people find his stories dirty, it’s because the society they live in is so. Manto’s stories capture society from its least flattering angles and in that way forces us to look at what we would have otherwise never paid much attention to. And, best of all, Bombay—or Mumbai, as you would call it today—comes alive right before your eyes.

Acceptance of gender fluidity

Queerness has always existed in this world and yet, despite all the progress humanity has made over the centuries, we still haven’t been able to accept people for who they are. ‘Shikhandi and Other Queer Tales They Don’t Tell You’ is a collection of 30 stories about gender and sexual identity that will change the way you think about sex.

Growing up on a healthy dose of Mahabharata on television, most of us are aware of Shikhandi. But Pattanaik also ferrets out instances from other epics and folk tales where various gods and goddesses have chosen to switch genders to restore order in the world. There is, of course, Shikhandi, who was born a woman but raised as a man; Krishna, who became a woman for one day to marry a man fated to die the very next day of his marriage; Chudala, who became a man so that her husband wouldn’t disregard her views; and Mandhata whose mother was a man. There are many other queer characters.

Where reinterpreting Hindu epics and mythology is concerned, there is perhaps no one who can do it better than Pattanaik. His writing is simple and to the point while being extremely detailed. In Shikandi and Other Queer Tales They Don’t Tell You, he is out to show that homosexuality is perfectly natural, and it has always been so. Nor is it a modern or a western concept. With gods and goddesses changing forms as readily as changing their clothes, homosexuality has always been a part of our life and culture.  

Also, our ancient texts and oral traditions are filled with references to queerness. Rigveda says ‘Vikruti Evam Prakriti’, which means ‘what seems unnatural is also natural’. According to many scholars, this refers to queerness. In the Puranas, Vishnu, time and again, morphs into a woman to trick demons and tempt sages.

The first part of the book, before Pattanaik delves into the stories, is an important discussion on queer behavior across the world. Just as patriarchy asserts men to be superior to women and feminism clarifies men and women are equal, queerness questions what constitutes male and female, says Pattanaik. And it is this idea that he explores in the book.

Retellings of epics and myths, Pattanaik says, have, over the years, adopted a patriarchal bias, which is how stories of queerness have been overshadowed, if not altogether lost. In Shikhandi and Other Queer Tales They Don’t Tell You, he shines light on instances where the line between male and female has blurred. Reading the book will force you to confront your thoughts and views on gender. It will make you pause and reflect on the battles of the LGBTQI+ community and wonder how the world came to be so intolerant.

Pattanaik’s works, I believe, make for brilliant alternate readings of our myths and epics. These are the stories we should be telling our children, for a better, more inclusive future.

Mythology

Shikhandi and Other Queer Tales They Don’t Tell You

Devdutt Pattanaik

Published: 2014

Publisher: Zubaan Books and Penguin India

Language: English

Pages: 179, Paperback

Raw & real : A book review

You have probably heard of ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’. The movie poster with Audrey Hepburn in a sleek black dress is one of the most iconic images of 20th century Hollywood.

But surprisingly not many people know of Truman Capote’s novella by the same name on which the movie is based. 

The movie is popular than the book, and considering Capote’s original story is a little removed from the sweet romance that’s shown in the 1961 film adaptation, it’s easy to understand why. The book is a little dark and doesn’t have the movie’s happy ending.

But I love reading Breakfast at Tiffany’s for the images it sparks in my mind. Capote’s descriptions of people and places make me nostalgic about things I didn’t even know could make me wistful in the first place.

My well-thumbed copy of Capote’s ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ is a Penguin Essentials edition published in 2011. The pretty blue and pink cover of this particular book instantly cheers me up and, over the years, I have turned to it whenever I needed a quick pick-me-up.

In Breakfast at Tiffany’s, a contemporary writer recalls his early days in New York City, when he makes the acquaintance of a remarkable 19-year-old girl, Holly Golightly, who lives in the same block as him. Holly is an actress turned socialite who hosts parties in her small apartment while receiving a string of wealthy albeit unappealing men.

Holly is an interesting character. She loves easily and leaves just as easily. She gets angry quickly and forgives fast. She can buy expensive things for herself, yet wants to be spoiled with lavish gifts. Eventually she gets into some trouble and flees and our narrator, Fred, pines over the postcards she sends him.

This is a cute, fun story that was scandalous when it was first published but today makes you feel like all your actions are justified as long as you are happy. Holly’s behavior wouldn’t be a cause of much shock in the current times but a female protagonist like her was unheard of when the book was written. Much of the story is also about the masks we put on to fit in and the worlds we create in our heads for a sense of belonging.

There is a lot going on in this tiny novella. I’m sure what you take away from it will be different than what, say, your friend does. On a lighter note, for me, Breakfast at Tiffany’s is also a comforting place that reminds me of a time, pre Covid-19, when parties happened on a whim and people came and went as they pleased.

Fiction

Breakfast at Tiffany’s

Truman Capote

Published: 1958

Publisher: Hamish Hamilton

Language: English

 

 

 

What makes a villain?

Amish Tripathi, or Amish as he prefers to be called, is one of India’s most popular contemporary fiction writers. More than five million copies of his books have been printed and his works—dealing mostly with mythology—have been translated into 19 languages.

Set in the 3,400 BC, ‘Raavan: Enemy of Aryavarta’, tells the story of the King of Lanka, from the time he was born till he kidnaps Sita. The book is the third part of the five-part Ram Chandra series, the first two being ‘Ram: Scion of Ikshvaku’ and ‘Sita: Warrior of Mithila’. You needn’t have read the first two to understand and enjoy the latest installment. All three are multilinear narratives that basically set the background for the next two books in the series. It’s only from the fourth part onwards that the characters come together in one main narrative.

Most of us know Raavan as the villain in the epic Ramayana. Much of what we know and how we feel about Raavan has been shaped by the startling image of a ten-headed monster we saw in various versions of Ramayana on television. But, apparently, even in the original version of Ramayana—Valmiki’s Ramayana—there is a certain depth to Raavan’s character, something that’s completely missing in modern interpretations of the myth.

In Amish’s version, Raavan is an artist, musician, brilliant scholar who loves his books, and a ruthless businessman. It’s losing the only woman he loved that brings out the monster in him. In the book, Raavan belongs to the Nagas, a feared and cursed tribe (a group that featured in Amish’s Meluha series). As a child, he flees with his mother, Kaikesi, and uncle, Mareech, to protect his younger brother, Kumbhakarna, who is also a Naga and is ordered to be killed at birth. Much of the book is about how Raavan beats all odds to become the world’s wealthiest and most powerful man.

You also get to see a different side of Kumbhakarna than the one you have grown up knowing. You witness a kinder version of the character—one who isn’t a monster that Ramayana makes him out to be. He is intelligent, brave and focused on protecting his brother, which he considers to be his dharma. By the end of the book, there’s also a link, a possible explanation to Kumbhakarna’s legendary tendency to sleep for days on end.

There are times when the story is too preachy and the writing feels a little off—almost like someone forced the author to write at a gunpoint. But Raavan is a fascinating character and Amish has made him so multi-faceted that you want to get to know him more and thus keep turning the pages. You already know where the story is headed but that doesn’t matter; it’s the character you are discovering here. Also, there is a big reveal in the end that gives the story a nice little twist.

At its heart, Raavan: Enemy of Aryavarta is a love story and Raavan, for a change, isn’t the villain here.

An unusual love story

The Time Traveler’s Wife’, Audrey Niffenegger’s debut novel, opens in 1991. Henry DeTamble is 28 and works at the Chicago Public Library. Twenty-year-old Clare Abshire walks into the library and immediately recognizes Henry as the man who has been an indispensable part of her life ever since she was six. She knows she will marry him one day and that particular point in time is when they begin courting. But Henry doesn’t know her yet, despite visiting her several times over the years.

The Time Traveler’s Wife is the love story of Clare and Henry who first meet when Clare is six and Henry 36. The two get married when Clare is 22 and Henry is 30. No, you didn’t read that wrong. What we think of as impossible is possible in Henry’s case because he time travels. He suffers from a rare disorder, chrono-impairment, where his genetic clock resets periodically and he is sucked into his past or future.

The only thing is that Henry has no voluntary control over it. For instance, when Clare and Henry are getting married, he is whisked away right before the ceremony. An older version of Henry, however, appears just in time to take his place. Not many of his family and friends notice that all of a sudden Henry looks slightly older.

The story is narrated alternately by the two title characters, with Henry time traveling back and forth between his past and future. The story also roughly follows Clare’s chronological timeline, narrating her first meeting with the present version of Henry, their marriage and attempts to have children, and the effects of Henry’s sudden disappearances. There are also various scenes of Clare and Henry’s pasts where as a child Clare meets Henry and you get to see how Henry becomes accustomed to his time traveling.

It could have been a confusing read hadn’t it been for Niffenegger’s smooth writing. She has also taken care not to make the story too complex. And she ties all the plots together beautifully. There are revelations and explanations for everything that might initially confuse you. The romance element is extremely relatable and nothing feels over the top. The characters are well developed and you can actually envision yourself as Clare or Henry. 

However, given the theme—time traveling—the story could have been a bit more compelling. I also at times had problems with a 30-something-year-old Henry hanging out with a six-, 10- or 15-year-old Clare. That kind of creeped me out. But the story as a whole had me gripped and thus, by the end, I could forgive the minor hiccups.

Fiction

The Time Traveler’s Wife

Audrey Niffenegger

Published: 2004

Publisher: Vintage

Pages: 518, Paperback

Poetry for the unpoetic

Back in school, poetry never made much sense to me. Milton, Keats, Shelly—they all felt the same and went right over my head. If I had to write a poem, the last word of each line had to rhyme with that of the next. I’m kind of embarrassed to admit that I haven’t gotten any better at understanding poetry since. Thankfully, I no longer try to write poems, even though the itch is there sometimes.

But I haven’t given up on poetry altogether. Spoken word poetry and occasional stanzas at the beginning of various books have managed to keep alive the hope that one day it will all make perfect sense. In the meanwhile, I’m glad there are some poets who already do.

Nikita Gill Nikita Gill

Gill mostly writes about womanhood and feminism and her poems challenge the conventional notion of what it means to be a woman. Her poems about life, loss, and being strong in general will have you nodding, saying, “Yes, that’s it… that’s exactly how I feel.” Her poems are what are going on in your head, you just hadn’t been able to put it in words. Reading her, for me, is an extremely calming and cathartic experience. It makes me realize my experiences and issues aren’t unique and, in that way, feel less lonely. If you are already a fan of Rupi Kaur then you will definitely love Gill’s empowering poems. ‘Wild Embers’ and ‘Fierce Fairytales’ are my favorites of all Gill’s books. You don’t have to read them in one sitting; you can keep them on your shelf and dip in and out whenever you feel like.

Atticus Atticus

Instagram sensation, the anonymous and mask-donning Atticus has fans in stars like Shay Mitchell and Karlie Kloss. Dubbed as the #1 poet to follow by Teen Vogue and the “World’s most tattoo-able poet” by Galore magazine, Atticus has two books out with Simon & Schuster—‘Love Her Wild’, and ‘The Dark Between Stars’—both of which have received raving reviews. Readers are however divided on Atticus. Not everyone loves him, or even likes him. Some find his work painfully mediocre. But reading Atticus will make you think about love and relationships in a way you hadn’t before. I wouldn’t say all his poems are exceptional but I am particularly fond of how his books are designed with interesting, full-page black-and white-digital art and photos. They give you a moment to wonder and ponder.

Cleo Wade Cleo Wade

Called the “Millennial Oprah”, Wade has over 685,000 followers on Instagram. Her book ‘Heart Talk: Poetic Wisdom for a Better Life’ is full of positive little nuggets that warm your heart. The small, square book, that you can easily slip into your pocket or purse, is branded as self-help rather than poetry. If you have ever wanted an instruction manual for life, this is it. Her words have also been used in advertisements for Gucci’s Chime for Change campaign, stenciled on Nike AF1 sneakers, and inscribed on designer dishes. Wade’s short, fragmented poems are little important thoughts in our head that, burdened by daily life and its hundreds of hassles, have been shoved at the very back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Likable but not memorable : A book review

I’m a little in love with Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s short story collection, ‘The Thing Around Her Neck’, and her book-length essay, ‘We Should All Be Feminists’. On the other hand, I haven’t really connected with her novels on that level. It’s great writing but there is usually something about the story that feels a little off. Unrestrained by word-count, Adichie has a tendency to get carried away and that makes her novels a bit unstructured. Or maybe it’s just bad editing.

But I still enjoyed ‘Purple Hibiscus’, Adichie’s debut novel and winner of the 2005 Commonwealth Writer’s Prize. It’s a coming of age story that unravels as a military regime comes to power in Nigeria. Set against the backdrop of a coup, it is as much about the struggles of a politically troubled Nigeria as it is about a seemingly normal Nigerian family governed by abuse and control.

Narrated in the first person by 15-year-old Kambili Achike, living in an affluent household with her brother, Jaja; her mother, Beatrice; and her father, Eugene, Purple Hibiscus will have you contemplating about life and your beliefs while reinforcing the fact that abuse is never acceptable and that it can’t ever be a sign of love.

To the world, Eugene is a good man. He is the publisher of the newspaper ‘Standard’ in Enugu, goes to mass regularly, and doesn’t hesitate to help others, often without taking any credit for it. But at home, it’s a different matter altogether. Kambili and Jaja live in constant fear of his beatings, which Eugene views as “lessons” on becoming more pious Catholics. Beatrice has had many miscarriages because of Eugene’s violent nature but she never stands up to him. Instead, she is always trying to please him, and she ends up at the hospital when she can’t do that.

But the family doesn’t know any other way of life and thinks whatever is happening is all for their benefit. Eugene’s actions are never met with any resistance. However, things change when Kambili and Jaja go to visit their aunt, Ifeoma, who is a university professor in Nsukka. Here, in a house way smaller than theirs, the siblings encounter a new way of life that allows them to speak, laugh, and not worry about being punished because of someone’s mood swings. For the first time, Kambili realizes that she is free to have opinions and ideas of her own.

Purple Hibiscus is a beautiful story of a girl blossoming and coming into her own, though the narrative is a tad slow at times. The story also heartbreaking and beautifully captures the tension between oppression and our innate desire to be free. The only problem I had with Purple Hibiscus is that there are many things happening but they all feel a bit underdeveloped. That’s perhaps why none of the characters stay with you when you are done. I would still recommend it to those in want of an introspective read, for it definitely gives you some food for thought.

Fiction

Purple Hibiscus

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Published: 2004

Publisher: 4th Estate

Language: English

Pages: 307, Paperback