For those of you who don't know me (those who do are probably already tiring of the barrage of excitable Facebook posts) I'm currently in Asia. And not just on a quick holiday. Two weeks ago I embarked on one of those life-changing trips I hope to be talking about for years to come, hauling myself across India, Malaysia, Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam and China on one gigantic four month long adventure.
If you want to hear the ins and outs of my travels, you can check out the blog of my lovely companion Beth at http://theworldisfullofbeautifulthings.blogspot.in/?m=1
However, rather than regaling you with tales of zooming around foreign lands on mopeds, arduous train rides and beautiful beaches, I've decided to go down a slightly more sedate route.
Searching for some serenity within the wild first week of our trip, I stumbled into a quaint bookshop in the beautiful Keralan seaside town of Fort Kochin. With a fairly limited knowledge of Indian literature, I browsed the "Kerala authors" section with a casual interest in the vaguely existentialist titles, settling for "The God of Small Things" by Arundhati Roy. Beth had noted the setting the day before on a tranquil canoe cruise of Cochin's winding backwaters, and I warmed to the almost whimsical name.
Settling in a cafe with a cold drink whilst Beth blogged in an internet cafe across the road I started reading. Hearing Roy's words emerge in the powerful culture and beautiful scenery was an incredible experience. Scenes that would have seemed wildly exotic from the comfort of my own home were suddenly intensely evocative, sensuously familiar. I felt compelled to share this wonderful book with the world from its stunning setting.
Winner of the Man Booker Prize, "The God of Small Things" is not exactly short on publicity. It's an undeniably powerful read, a stirring exploration of India's rigid class system through the eyes of a well-off Christian family living Ayemenem. Both poignantly and disturbingly, Roy explores social divisions through the so called Love Laws-- where "who should be loved. And how. And how much" governs the relationships of the characters, from the strangely psychic bond between the young twins who dominate the tale's narrative attention, to the erotic love between their mother and her forbidden lover.
It's a story of love and its ever present literary counterpart of loss in the most tragic and twisted sense, each converse and counterpointed perspective of the families various generations forming a strongly woven story. This story was deepened through the stunning scenery of Kerala. The river between the family and the darkened "History House" where one of the most haunting scenes of the novel is set is easy to imagine in the winding Keralan backwaters, where isolated villages line quiet canals. The noise and frustration of the novel's central themes parallel the sheer craziness and unsettling aspects of India, yet are beautifully offset against the innocence of the unspoiled landscape, the dialogue of childhood, Kerala's ungainly serenity.
"The God of Small Things" is a novel which is as dark and disturbing as it is humorous and beautifully crafted, and I could not imagine a better setting. Kerala-- "God's own country" as it is locally known is truly one of the most beautiful places I have ever been to, yet it is marred by problems that pervade Indian culture-- sexual, economical and prejudicial. Easy as it would be to ignore these, fall easy victim to the gorgeous mountainous landscapes, seaside scenes, wandering elephants and monkeys, Roy refuses. She confronts the India she knows, that paradoxical coinciding of beauty and corruption, to create as truly valuable global work of literature.
Even if you can't read "The God of Small Things" in Kerala-- admittedly it might not be quite as simple as it was for me-- it's still a truly wonderful and worthwhile read. Sit back and indulge in Roy's rich summoning of a world tangled in past and present, nature and commercialism, valid love and forbidden love. From such a gifted writer, it's not necessary to be here to be able to imagine.
If you want to hear the ins and outs of my travels, you can check out the blog of my lovely companion Beth at http://theworldisfullofbeautifulthings.blogspot.in/?m=1
However, rather than regaling you with tales of zooming around foreign lands on mopeds, arduous train rides and beautiful beaches, I've decided to go down a slightly more sedate route.
Searching for some serenity within the wild first week of our trip, I stumbled into a quaint bookshop in the beautiful Keralan seaside town of Fort Kochin. With a fairly limited knowledge of Indian literature, I browsed the "Kerala authors" section with a casual interest in the vaguely existentialist titles, settling for "The God of Small Things" by Arundhati Roy. Beth had noted the setting the day before on a tranquil canoe cruise of Cochin's winding backwaters, and I warmed to the almost whimsical name.
Settling in a cafe with a cold drink whilst Beth blogged in an internet cafe across the road I started reading. Hearing Roy's words emerge in the powerful culture and beautiful scenery was an incredible experience. Scenes that would have seemed wildly exotic from the comfort of my own home were suddenly intensely evocative, sensuously familiar. I felt compelled to share this wonderful book with the world from its stunning setting.
Winner of the Man Booker Prize, "The God of Small Things" is not exactly short on publicity. It's an undeniably powerful read, a stirring exploration of India's rigid class system through the eyes of a well-off Christian family living Ayemenem. Both poignantly and disturbingly, Roy explores social divisions through the so called Love Laws-- where "who should be loved. And how. And how much" governs the relationships of the characters, from the strangely psychic bond between the young twins who dominate the tale's narrative attention, to the erotic love between their mother and her forbidden lover.
It's a story of love and its ever present literary counterpart of loss in the most tragic and twisted sense, each converse and counterpointed perspective of the families various generations forming a strongly woven story. This story was deepened through the stunning scenery of Kerala. The river between the family and the darkened "History House" where one of the most haunting scenes of the novel is set is easy to imagine in the winding Keralan backwaters, where isolated villages line quiet canals. The noise and frustration of the novel's central themes parallel the sheer craziness and unsettling aspects of India, yet are beautifully offset against the innocence of the unspoiled landscape, the dialogue of childhood, Kerala's ungainly serenity.
"The God of Small Things" is a novel which is as dark and disturbing as it is humorous and beautifully crafted, and I could not imagine a better setting. Kerala-- "God's own country" as it is locally known is truly one of the most beautiful places I have ever been to, yet it is marred by problems that pervade Indian culture-- sexual, economical and prejudicial. Easy as it would be to ignore these, fall easy victim to the gorgeous mountainous landscapes, seaside scenes, wandering elephants and monkeys, Roy refuses. She confronts the India she knows, that paradoxical coinciding of beauty and corruption, to create as truly valuable global work of literature.
Even if you can't read "The God of Small Things" in Kerala-- admittedly it might not be quite as simple as it was for me-- it's still a truly wonderful and worthwhile read. Sit back and indulge in Roy's rich summoning of a world tangled in past and present, nature and commercialism, valid love and forbidden love. From such a gifted writer, it's not necessary to be here to be able to imagine.
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