Monday 27 July 2020

God of Small Things: An Impression

God of Small Things is a deeply immersive read from Arundhati Roy. The story of Rahel & Estha, two children, and their divorced mother Ammu and their other (Marthoma Syrian Christian) relatives and Velutha, a skilled worker from an untouchable caste, and other characters from Kerala's Kottayam (Aymenem). The novel is built on an excellent, complex structure, woven in its own language, unashamedly inventing new words, often to express the inexpressible (like Joyce). You read through the story as if you swim through an enormous river with powerful streams. Well! The author takes you through the river, each stream at a time, thus exposing you to a complex narrative. There is a dark, deep whirlpool somewhere in the middle of the water. The author builds the story around that part, that singularity: a death and a murder. Only to expose it towards the end of the story. To build anticipation. Though not for long. It gets predictive very early although the anticipation still builds to get to know the other details.

Often, events that are coming at the later part of the novel are introduced early. Through hints. Through symbols. Through sentences that appear suddenly out of context. The hints, symbols and the out-of-context sentences are repeated. Revisited. Beautifully! Building more and more meaning until the context gets finally clear as the story deepens.

Like Flaubert, the writing belongs to the realism genre. That means too much of details, sometimes irrelevant and banal at times. But it suits the book to expose the the complex socio-political structure lying underneath. Those Casteist, Marxist, Aristocratic, Imperialistic elements. The technique is brilliant, though not one of my personal favourites.

But I have a major problem with this book. Namely, the lofty moral position that the narrator takes up. The looking down at everything and everybody. Even mundane natural things. Even the way a character eating chips or dressing up. Even the way a character stands or walks; opens her mouth! A major part of literary realism is expended to explain how filthy everything is, how evil people are, how morally corrupted society is and how dark life is. The darker part of human nature being singled out and exaggerated. This makes the book too grim.

In the whole story, you find only Rahel & Estha as people of pure souls. And then Velutha, another pure soul. Only because he was betrayed and murdered? Ammu is portrayed in slight darkness. All other characters are evil, greedy, cunning or snobbish. Which is strange. Grim.

And at the end, unlike Flaubert, no redemption offered. As grim as it is! But, to repeat, a excellent, deeply immersive read!




Friday 24 July 2020

Unsane

Unsane is a 2018 purely Kafkaesque movie by Steven Soderbergh, which questions our sense of reality. How long can we hold on to our own reality? How long can we believe in it? What if others don't believe in the reality we try to relate to them? The thin line between sanity and insanity is not purely dictated by us. It's by and large defined by others. The moment others do not relate to my reality, I am doomed to fall into insanity; at least will be considered insane. The coming back, especially if you are helpless and weak, is pure luck. And, the experience haunts you forever.


Tuesday 21 July 2020

Wild Tales

Wild Tales is a 2014 Spanish movie. It's a sequence of six short stories, all of which portraying the plight of humans who are cornered in life due to different reasons in different circumstances. The violent way humans responds to their conditions, to the injustice done to them and to the loneliness they endured in their suffering. 

While all the six stories are great, the one that I loved most is the sixth one in which the bride Romina violently rebelled against her finding that he groom Ariel had cheated on her and had invited the same woman to their wedding. This is one of the strangest rebellion I've been aware of. She can't accept the reality and starts yelling at Airel about how she's going to torture him throughout the life she is going to have with him. The violence, however, dissipates itself and leads to a reconciliation that re-ignite the love between the couples. They start their life immediately in the hall, in front of the startled audience, who hastens to leave before the couple starts make love.

Love is choosing. Choice is violence. To love someone is to choose him or her in lieu of everything else. Love is a kind of violence, a rebellious violence.