Sunday 26 November 2017

#43 A memoir




Origins – Amin Maalouf

 
I do admit that I came across this book utterly by chance. The book cover looked appealing and I am all for digging up the past through letters and stories – so I had to read this one. In the end, I am surprised that the author is relatively unknown in our suggested readings. His writing, though a translation (expertly translated from French by Catherine Temerson), is exquisite.

The cover I have has a picture of trunk overflowing with letters
Amin Maalouf was originally a journalist in Lebanon until the civil war broke out there in 1975. He moved to Paris with his family and has been residing there since. In this lovely, complex memoir he traces the past when he chances upon a trunk of family letters given to him. Originating in the mountains of Lebanon this inter-generational saga, spanning various continents and historical events gives voice to an identity that is conveniently obscured by the times we live in – the idea of a liberal Arab in a Muslim world torn apart by political uprising and decades of revolutions.

He begins  with a heartfelt tribute to his family and his ancestors who were Lebanese Christians:

“I come from a clan that has been nomadic from time immemorial in a desert as wide as the world….is the family name a homeland? Yes, that’s the way it is.”

He recalls a time forgotten in the annals of history, nearly a hundred years ago, when Arab liberalism was briefly at its zenith. Enlightenment ideals of rationality, liberty, and progress were zealously championed by schoolteachers and scientists, freemasons and poets, across the planet—and not least in the Arab world, where many of the leading reformers were, like Maalouf and his ancestors. Writing as a detective-historian, Maalouf has ransacked old chests and the fading memories of relatives to tell the story of a forgotten man of the Enlightenment—his grandfather Boutros.   

His grandfather was a revolutionary idealist and schoolteacher who having failed in business lives instead “between notebooks and inkwells”. The other person who comes into focus is his brother who is a study in contrast – Gebrayel, who left for the United States and later settled in Cuba. Whereas, Botros runs away from his home and gets a western education, scandalously refuses to have his children baptized and opens up a ‘Universal School’, his brother is a successful retail entrepreneur in Cuba. One an intellectual and the other, a businessman.

Maalouf is passionately devoted to fill the gaps in his ancestors’ stories. And he does that by piecing together fragments of the letters they exchange, by interviewing living relatives and visiting the places his ancestors lay buried – to glean as much of truth as he can. In some exquisite lines he explains how a quest for this origin can also be faulty and riddled with troubling questions.

“I realize that it is always tricky to suggest a beginning for things. Nothing is born of nothing, least of all knowledge, modernity, or enlightened thought; progress is made in tiny surges, in successive laps, like an endless relay race.”

You simply can’t state the postmodern condition better. I loved some of his observations for such insights. So, in many ways, this search and piecing together of his ancestors’ past is a telling analogy of how we ourselves put history together – in fragments, never as a whole as we believe it to be.  

His grandfather had attempted to bring in a new age of liberal education through his school , but political ideologies that strongly stood against such establishments proved to be his undoing. Though his grandmother kept the school running for another decade, she too had to shut it down. From then, their family have been largely scattered across the globe – traveling or even escaping from their beloved homeland due to circumstances beyond their control. 

“Here, families have sons buried in Beirut, Egypt, Argentina, Brazil, Mexico, Australia and the United States. Our fate is to be scattered in death as we were in life.”

Amin Maalouf explores the "labyrinth of identity” through the search for the stories of his ancestors. It's a journey showing how we - especially Europe and the Middle East - are one multiple entity. And that our identity cannot be reduced to a single affiliation. Amin recognises that identity is a complex process, and he's not willing to subject himself to categories others impose.

His views and recollections of the past were enlightening since I knew next to nothing of the background in Lebanon.  Using a trunk of letters and the stories of his ancestors he masterfully creates a memorable niche of his own.  His voice is very persuasive and a highly relevant one.


#42 An epistolary novel


The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society –Mary Ann Shaffer & Annie Barrows

An epistolary novel is one in which the narrative is conveyed entirely by an exchange of letters. The epistolary method is brought to life once in a while, and had its probable beginnings in the 18th century (eg: Samuel Richardson’s Clarissa and Pamela)  but these kind of novels which aim to limit the perspective of the story in every letter that is exchanged isn’t quite common. And there also remains the fact that it has to keep one entertained. Could reading an exchange of letters be entertaining or even remotely interesting? It definitely is a resounding yes if you are to pick up this book.

Narrated in the form of exchange of letters through the period of one year (1946) with Juliet Ashton who is a writer and living in London, receives a letter from Dawsey Adams from Guernsey (it’s an island in the English Channel)  who happens to get her address from an old book of hers which he bought during a sale. Thus begins an exchange of letters from one book loving soul to another.
As we get to know more about Dawsey and the inhabitants of Guernsey, we come to know of a very interesting society which lends its name to the book’s title. It has quite a lot of members and was first conceived as an excuse to eat roast pig during the German occupation of the islands during the wartime. The islanders were given strict rations and every live pig was accounted for. So keeping a pig hidden and then making a fine dinner out of it would have landed its ‘members’ in jail. So began the intriguing society and a literary one at that, to cover up for that one time they all had met to eat a roast pig. If that is hilarious, there are plenty more in the book. (I am not going to explain the second half of the title though, some mysteries are to be sustained till you read the book of course :) )

All the members of the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society correspond with Juliet and she with them. There is also her also her correspondence with her publisher and friend Sidney and his sister, Sophie, who are all part of this heart-warming tale of a group of people who love reading and who found a way to bring love and meaning to their lives amidst wartime atrocities. 

"At the start we tried to be calm and objective, but that soon fell away, and the purpose of the speakers was to goad the listeners into wanting to read the books themselves. Once two members had read the same book, they could argue, which was our great delight. We read books, talked books, argued over books, and became dearer and dearer to one another. Other Islanders asked to join us, and our evenings together became bright, lively times - we could almost forget, now an then, the darkness outside."    (from Amelia's letter to Juliet)
Besides being warm and funny, the characters and lovable personalities of the islanders shine through in their correspondences and make us wish that we too could belong to a society as close-knit as they are. The story behind the authorship is also worth knowing. Mary Ann Shaffer was fascinated by her random visit to Guernsey that she used all she knew about the island and its history to begin writing this novel. However, she fell quite ill at a critical moment. As the book was nearing completion, she asked her niece Ann Barrows to step in and complete it for her. This is a memorable book in more ways than one.

If you have ever loved receiving or writing a letter by hand, pick this one up. If you have never had the pleasure to experience any of that , pick this one up, it will urge you to try writing a letter at least once in your lifetime.   
   


Tuesday 21 November 2017

#41 A travelogue




Borderlands – Pradeep Damodaran



Even for a seasoned traveler this book will come as a surprise,  since the author and former journalist Pradeep Damodaran visits border towns and villages which lie scattered across India’s boundary lines. Most of these places are hard to get to and some are even harder to get back from.

He begins his year long journey at Dhanushkodi which is the southern-most tip of Tamil Nadu – an eerie ghost town.  This cyclone ravaged region has significance in both mythology and in its geographical location.  Dhanushkodi or ‘tip of the bow’ was where , according to the Hindu legend Lord Rama had demolished the bridge build by his army to bring back his wife Sita from the clutches of Ravana.  Rameswaram , the nearest town is a bumpy twenty-minute ride away , but no outsider is supposed to linger at Dhanushkodi after dark. Or must do so at their own peril.

Dhanushkodi was ravaged by a cyclone in 1964, leaving behind utter devastation. It lead to the government declaring it unfit for human habitation and asked the residents to relocate. However, few remain there still. It is only 12 km from the tip of Dhanuskodi to the nearby island country of Sri Lanka and a lot of problems prevail on that front too. The writer interviews and talks to residents – both old and young and gives us an enlightening background to the true reality of living in such border towns.

By far the most fascinating trip would be to Minicoy, a tiny island located on Lakshwadeep, India’s south western tip. More closely connected with Maldives than with mainland India, the description of his travel to this island was surreal. The beauty and isolation of the tiny island is mesmerizing and one may wish to be whisked away for a vacation there. But, underneath all the beauty there lurks questions of identity and belonging among those who live there. For instance, every time a native needs to leave Minicoy they have to specify their visit to other places and a waiting period follows. Clearly, a very different treatment is being meted out to them from those who live in the mainland. Their communities are peaceful and are mostly crime free. Definitely a quiet little paradise.

However, with each place he visits, be it Hussainiwala in Punjab, where farmers have land in both India and Pakistan , Raxaul in Bihar with easy (and illegal trade) access to Nepal, Jaigaon  a lovely halt and entry point to Bhutan or Moreh , an India-Myanmar border in Manipur – there are plenty of undercurrents that the writer is able to capture. The politics, crisis of identity that haunt certain residents of border areas, the remoteness and isolation they face from the rest of the country are all brought into sharp focus.

It was indeed an eye-opener and worth a read. Each chapter has a lot of information that has been gathered from first-hand experience from talking to a wide variety of natives and locals of the places he visits and will help one understand that what most of us take for granted by living in well-marked territories. For these people in desolate villages, and border dividing their farms or homes, it remains a question of proving that they are Indian everyday. It is worth a read.

I was also able to locate a similar independent study being undertaken by a researcher has an interesting and highly educative blog here(by Suchitra Vijayan) which includes what she has seen and witnessed in her years of studying lives lived in border areas. 


Wednesday 15 November 2017

#40 A book set in the place you live

Aliyah – Sethu (Translated by Catherine Thankamma) 

“If you remain in the land where you sprouted, you will wilt. It is good to be replanted when you grow a bit. It is true in the case of plants and in the case of people too. You need some time to take root, that is all.”
 
Kochi , a seaside town in the coastal state of Kerala has had a very colourful past – but one which is probably fading with time.  In A. Sethumadhavan’s  novel, which has been translated from Malayalam by Catherine Thankamma , he narrates through the medium of fiction, the tale of a community of Jews who once called Kochi their home. Focusing on Salomon, a young Jewish man and the decisions that his family and his community would have to take – to ultimately confront their Jewish heritage and the land they belong to.

Jews, while being persecuted across Europe, had once fled to different parts of the world. Those who landed in Kochi were welcomed and given safety by the then ruling monarchs. For many centuries did Jews, Muslims, Hindus and Christians all live beside each other in certain pockets of this port city of Kochi. Synagogues were built and they settled down and laid roots as time went by.
By the 16th century, after a new wave of Jewish migration there became established two groups of Jews – the white skinned foreign Jews and the black skinned native Jews , a.k.a. Paradesi Jews and Malabari ‘Black’ Jews. Apparently it wasn’t necessarily based on the skin colour. By the 18th century there were eight synagogues in five different Kerala towns and villages.

The Paradesi Jewish Synagogue in Kochi, Kerala - now a Heritage Monument
However, after decades of calling Kochi their home, shifting political climate caused a mass migration of Jews to a newly formed state – Israel (formed in 1948). This migration was termed as ‘aliyah’ – thus the title. However, as we see through the fictionalized story of Salomon and his family, it was not an easy decision to make. Many Jews did migrate in response to the Zionist call – and many Jews remained. Because, in the end, where do you belong – in the soil that you grew up in or in the soil that has been newly demarcated to be your “land”? What does it mean to be a Jew in Kochi, the last Jew that too – when all the rest have decided to leave for the Promised Land? These and many other diasporic dilemmas are poignantly explored in this novel.

Set in the village of Chendamangalam, it begins with a nightmare seen by young Salomon who sees a ship and sea crows in his prophetic dream. His affectionate grandmother Eshimuthimma is thrilled since she believes it is a sign from above that the time has come for them to move to the Promised Land, Israel. However, Salomon will keep questioning whether he feels more at home here - in the only land he has ever known,  the land where his mother was buried (Rebeccamma, died when he was four), the place where he has an identity.  His father, Evron and his uncle Elias are more practical in their ways unlike Salomon who is a bit of a dreamer.

The chapters reveal the past of the family, from the time of their grandfather who settled there first and to the present generation where only one male heir remain to continue the family line – Salomon.  The political turmoil, the religious and cultural conflict of the time, the myth and cultural beliefs of a time that remains forgotten in dusty volumes, empty synagogues are brought alive in the pages of Aliyah. We meet several characters through Salomon, who have their own part to play in the unfolding of events that leads up to the day when the Jewish community finally leaves the shores of the town.

Which country is home? On the one hand there is India, where generations of Jews have lived peacefully and where they have never been persecuted for their faith. And on the other hand, there is the promised land of Israel, which they know very little about — and going there means that suddenly there are possessions be sold, money to be paid to an agency, ships to board, and a final, overwhelming cutting of all ties to their homes.

The Hindu and Christian neighbours of the Jews are bewildered at this turn of events, and rather suspicious. Nobody can comprehend why the Jews feel that they are foreigners in India — which is not surprising, since most of the Jews are not necessarily able to articulate why they want to leave. Nor do they know much about Israel.

So, this novel gives a certain insight into a lot of history which is relatively unknown. However, it does not meet the promise it sets out to deliver. At certain points it felt that there was too much meandering and the character of Salomon simply seemed to be acting as a bystander rather than someone who we could relate to as being caught in a decisive turmoil. It generated enough interest simply by its premise of a story that surrounds a fading community. And certain moments were  decidedly poignant. For instance, the night before they have to leave for Israel, not one of them in the family can bring themselves to eat anything. And Eshimuthimma, who had for so long yearned to go the land across the seas, calls Salomon beside  her and shows him a tiny pouch in which she is carrying the soil of her homeland, of Kochi, so that when she dies she can be buried with it beside her.  Memorable.

Sashi Tharoor, who was present at the launch of this book in Delhi earlier this year had this to say about the novel:

What is your identity? Is it the racial memory as it were or is it the place and the people with whom you always lived? Where is your allegiance? Where is your love and loyalty? Who commands it? These are questions embedded in the narrative of Aliyah.

Couldn’t have put it better.

[Note on title: Aliyah - Pronounced: a-LEE-yuh for synagogue use, ah-lee-YAH for immigration to Israel, Origin: Hebrew, literally, “to go up.” This can mean the honour of saying a blessing before and after the Torah reading during a worship service, or immigrating to Israel.]