Never felt sadder: A book review
‘A Little Life’ by Hanya Yanagihara will break your heart into a million pieces and, as theatrical and clichéd as it may sound, you will feel like life will never be the same again. There is no way these characters are leaving you. They will inhabit every possible space in your head and whenever someone says you look a little lost, it will be probably because you are thinking of them, wistfully, and brimming with love.
Ever since I finished it a few days ago, I’ve recommended it to most of my friends, asked my husband to read it at least twice a day, and picked it up numerous times just to hold it and stroke the pages. This, I know, makes me sound like a lunatic, but Yanagihara has really messed with my head.
The book had been on my bookshelf for over four years. Meanwhile, I read everything there was being written about it, watched booktubers bawling their eyes out while reading it (check out paperbackdreams on YouTube), and low-key stalked Yanagihara on social media to try and find out just how her brain functions. Recently, a friend/reader/writer I admire (find her @15n3quarters on Instagram) mentioned Hanya Yanagihara as her favorite author and I finally dusted the book—shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize 2015—off my bookshelf.
A Little Life is about four friends—Jude, Willem, Malcolm, and JB—who move to New York after college. They are broke and clueless but all are ambitious and have one another for support. The story revolves around how their lives and friendships change over the years. However, for the most part, it’s about Jude who goes on to become a successful lawyer but is traumatized by his abusive past.
There are also other characters like Harold and Julia, Andy, and Richard whose backstories we never get to know much. Though the book isn’t essentially about them, Yanagihara hasn’t crafted characters without making them imperative to the narrative. So they too end up taking up considerable mind-space once you finish the book. It’s not often that a book has had this kind of effect on me. But A Little Life had me thinking about its villains as well and contemplating why they did what they did.
At 700-odd pages, the masterpiece is a long read. But the character-driven book, typeset in a font that’s not really friendly to the eyes, will consume you, and when you get to the end, you will want to hug the book and sob your heart out. Then, randomly flipping the pages, you will hunt for clues you might have missed, and wish you could have saved at least one character, and wonder how that might have changed things for all of them. This is where I am at. And this is where I will probably be for the rest of eternity.
If all that I have said here sounds melodramatic then read A Little Life and I’m sure you’ll see where I’m coming from.
Fiction
A Little Life
Hanya Yanagihara
Published: 2015
Publisher: Picador
Language: English
Pages: 720, Paperback
Why I read the Bhagavad Gita
My earliest memory of the “Bhagavad Gita” is a worn-from-use, spine-twisted, hardcover copy of the epic my grandmother kept on a dressing table—which would later go on to become a family heirloom. She was always quoting verses and it seemed no matter what we did, there was something in the Bhagavad Gita to either justify or condemn our actions.
My grandmother was forever thumbing through her much-revered copy. She would even run her hands over the words as she watched TV or talked to us. As a kid, I was fascinated by that particular slightly oily copy of the Bhagavad Gita that seemed to hold the universe’s secrets within its pages. Also, that it was a conversation between the avatar of Vishnu, Lord Krishna, and a prince named Arjuna had me wanting to know exactly who said what.
It was only years later, when I was in high school, that it occurred to me that my grandmother was using the Bhagavad Gita as an excuse to get us to behave how she saw fit. Afterall, how could she know for sure what was written in it when she couldn’t read? Everything she said was derived from someone else’s words, interpretations, or whatever she thought was right.
I used to tell my mother that I would one day read the entire epic, in Sanskrit, and thus be able to challenge my grandmother when she would, invariably, quote it wrong. I couldn’t wait to squash her ‘can’t-eat-what-she-touches-because-she-belongs-to-a-lower-caste-family’ and ‘daughters-need-to-be-demure-because-the-gods-created-us-that-way’ mindset.
As the years passed, I returned to and abandoned my promise (to myself) of reading the English translation of the Bhagavad Gita countless times. I’d start reading, intent on finishing, but it would either be too heavy and thus kind of morbid or I wouldn’t understand the point a verse was trying to make and I’d put it aside. It wasn’t well until my 30s that I actually picked up the Bhagavad Gita and stuck to it.
The first time I simply read the verses. The second time I delved deeper, trying to understand the message of each verse and its applicability in daily life. I don’t remember how many times I’ve read it thereafter. Now, I dig into it randomly, choosing to read a few pages every now and then. I like the Penguin editions (and there are many) because they are reader friendly. Recently, I also got a copy of the ‘Saral Gita’ by the Gitapress—this is the Nepali version.
I primarily read the Bhagavad Gita because I wanted to be knowledgeable enough to contest ideas, especially when people got all gung ho in the name of God. “That’s not what’s said in the Bhagavad Gita,” I wanted to be able to say. However, having read it quite a few times now, that need has been sidelined. I’ve started to like what I learn from it. Every time I pick it up, it inspires a new idea, a new thought.
Earlier everything was either black or white for me, but now I realize nothing is that obvious. The Bhagavad Gita does not prescribe one particular path or solution for life. What you take away from each of the 700 verses is entirely up to you. The wisdom of the Gita isn’t only for the devout seeking to guarantee a place for themselves in heaven (which is actually what a close friend seems to think I’m doing). It’s for those of us who are trying to change, be a little better every day, but desperately need help in doing that.
I still hope I’m able to impress (or offend) people with my knowledge of the Bhagavad Gita someday. But I would like to think I’m now wise and mellow enough to not be upset if that never happens.
Of desires and dreams: A book review
No garment is perhaps as controversial as the headscarf. Many women choose to wear it—it signifies who they are and what their culture means to them. In an interview, Pakistani writer Sabyn Javeri said that women wear the hijab for different reasons—some to be able to move around freely, without scrutiny, and others to assert religious identity. There are also women who actually feel sheltered by the headscarf. But a large part of the society sees it as a patriarchal conditioning of women.
It is this idea of the headscarf and what it stands for—which is unique to each woman—that Javeri explores in her collection of short stories, ‘Hijabistan’. The 16 short stories also delve into what it means to be a woman—more specifically a Muslim woman searching for identity—and the hijab is used as a metaphor. Set across Pakistan and London, the stories aren’t only about a piece of clothing. They are about the desires and dreams of women in different circumstances and of what they are capable of doing.
‘The Adulteress’ is about a woman torn between her sense of duty and desires. ‘Under the Flyover’ is about a married couple sneaking in some private moments before heading home to their crowded flat. In ‘The Hijab and Her’, a Pakistani exchange student in America gets picked on by her professor during a discussion on post-colonialism which leads to her choosing a different path in life. In another story, a British Muslim girl is on her way to Syria, contemplating the jihad.
Some stories are also about the struggles an immigrant faces while trying to fit in and staying true to one’s roots. For instance, in ‘The Good Wife’ the protagonist tries to assert her identity by wearing a hijab and ‘Only in London’ is about reinvention of the self by not dressing as the Muslim religion mandates.
Javeri’s prose is smooth and her writing empathetic. None of the stories feel unnecessarily drawn out or pretentious. You will be able to relate with the many characters in the anthology whose age range from 13 to 50. Some stories might feel a little off but you are never bored or disappointed.
Rather, these are stories that make you think—about women who have kept quiet for far too long and all the sacrifices they are forced to make, for their families, in the name of religion, and simply because they are women.
Hijabistan is Javeri’s second book. Her first, ‘Nobody Killed Her’, published in 2017, was a fictionalized tale of a female prime minister’s assassination.
Short Stories
Hijabistan
Sabyn Javeri
Published: 2019
Publisher: Harper Collins
Language: English
Pages: 216, Paperback
Essential discussion on depression
Depression and, by extension, mental illnesses have been discussed quite a lot in recent years, with many Bollywood celebrities (cue in Deepika Padukone) talking about their experiences and/or supporting different causes related to it. In Nepal too, it wouldn’t be wrong to say there is a lot more awareness about mental health and the importance of a healthy mind now than ever before, though we are still far from normalizing mental health issues. Shaheen Bhatt’s ‘I’ve Never Been (Un)Happier’ could help us do just that by giving us a clear insight into the mind of someone living with anxiety and depression.
I’ve Never Been (Un)Happier is a candid account of the author’s traumatic emotional experiences and battles with a mental condition that feels debilitating. Shaheen was diagnosed with depression when she was 18 when she had already been living with it for five years. Till then, she didn’t have a name for why she felt so sad and hollow most of the time, despite not having any reason for it.
As filmmaker Mahesh Bhatt’s daughter, one would think her fairly privileged lifestyle would warrant a happy life. But Shaheen says her pain doesn’t come to her because of her lifestyle and neither is it taken away because of it.
Yes, growing up, she had a comfortable life (though not a lavish one as most would believe because “filmmakers in the 90s didn’t exactly break the bank”). Financial security meant she could seek the support she needed. But her family background came with its own pressures. She was surrounded by famous, successful, and ambitious people but on some days her ambition would simply be to get herself to leave her bedroom.
Shaheen hasn’t sugarcoated or downplayed anything and the brutal honesty with which she writes makes the book unputdownable. What I especially liked about the book is how easy it is to read, and thus grasp. Shaheen doesn’t beat about the bush or make excuses for her behavior. Her “it is what it is” attitude helps you connect with the author and feel for her, even if you haven’t been through similar experiences.
Time and again, Shaheen shows you other vulnerable sides to her—being unable to attend classes, her relationship with food and the subsequent weight gain, and comparing herself to her older half-sibling Pooja—who was working in films when Shaheen was growing up—as well as her younger sister, Alia—who, she says, was effortlessly charming even as a child. There are also instances when you feel she is having an intimate conversation with you. You can relate to many of her experiences and Shaheen becomes a friend you have always secretly wished for.
I would highly recommend this slim book because it has the power to bring about some much-needed change in perspective on depression and mental health.
Non-fiction
I’ve Never Been (Un)Happier
Shaheen Bhatt
Published: 2019
Publisher: Penguin Random House India
Language: English
Pages: 165, Paperback
Lovely little tale
Recently, on a cold weekday afternoon, I was browsing through the children’s section at Ekta Books in Thapathali, Kathmandu. I wanted a pick-me-up as the weather had been dreary for a while, leaving me lethargic and a little upset. A good book ought to solve the problem, I thought. Only this time I wanted something fun and heartwarming, and where better to look than children’s literature!
I picked up ‘The One and Only Ivan’ by Katherine Applegate on a staff’s recommendation. She said it’s been selling well and is also apparently on a school syllabus in Nepal.
The One and Only Ivan is a tale of love and friendship that revolves around a silverback gorilla named Ivan. He has been living in a cage, which he calls domain, for years at the Big Top Circus Mall and knows nothing of the real world. His world is all that he can see through his cage-bars.
However, Ivan, not knowing another way of life, is content. He eats all he wants, and enjoys painting, which sells at the gift store for “$20, $25 with a frame’. He loves Stella, a rescued circus elephant, and Bob, the dog, who sleeps on his tummy. Then Mack, the mall operator, brings in Ruby, a baby elephant. She was taken from her family and isn’t used to a confined life. It is Ruby who makes Ivan realize there’s an entirely different world out there and they aren’t meant to be where they are.
Applegate’s incredible story is inspired by a real-life gorilla named Ivan who lives in Zoo Atlanta. He spent almost three decades at a circus-themed mall in Washington state after being captured as an infant in the Democratic Republic of Congo. He enjoys a celebrity status at the zoo where he is known for his paintings that are “signed” with his thumbprint.
The book is airy, comprised of short sentences, paragraphs, and chapters. The prose is often poetry-like with Ivan making fun observations about human nature. “Humans speak too much. They chatter like chimps, crowding the world with their noise even when they have nothing to say.” The story is a bit slow and sad at times but you feel an instant connection with Ivan and thus don’t want to put the book down.
The One and Only Ivan is a good book to introduce young adults to animal rights. It can also make them empathetic towards others. But above all, it will lift their spirits and make them smile.
About the author
Katherine Applegate is an American young adult and children’s fiction writer who mostly writes science fiction, fantasy, and adventure novels. She is known for her book series namely Animorphs, Remnants, and Everworld. She also wrote the acclaimed chapter book series called Roscoe Riley Rules. The One and Only Ivan won the 2013 Newbery Medal.
Children’s literature
The One and Only Ivan
Katherine Applegate
Published: 2012
Publisher: Harper Collins Children’s Books
Language: English
Pages: 256, Paperback
A fine, unconventional memoir
The bestselling author of ‘The Joy Luck Club’ and ‘The Valley of Amazement’, Amy Tan, recounts her turbulent relationship with her mother, Daisy Li, and revisits traumatic childhood memories—her mother’s mood swings and frequent breakdowns, the death of her older brother, Peter, followed by the death of her father—in her memoir ‘Where the Past Begins’.
I love Amy Tan. I feel she’s one of the finest writers we have today. Her prose is smooth and reading is thus effortless. Even though I might not have liked where a certain story was headed, I’ve always been in love with her writing. ‘The Kitchen God’s Wife’ and ‘The Bonesetter’s Daughter’ are two of my all-time favorite books. (Here, I must confess I have quite a long list of favorites.)
I always found myself wondering about Tan and her upbringing and conditioning while reading her books. What experiences enable her to write so extensively and imaginatively about women? How does she set a scene? And, most importantly, why does she feel the need to write? I was hoping I would find these answers when I came across her memoir. I wasn’t disappointed.
The book starts with a series of exchanges between Tan and her editor, Daniel Halpern, and moves on to her family’s immigrant story, with mentions of her half-sisters in China and her grandmother, before she takes up imagination and how she finally took the writer’s path. Though hers wasn’t a conventional career choice for a child of immigrants (her parents, who migrated to the United States from China, wanted her to be a neurosurgeon), she is glad she was able to fulfil her parent’s dream—she bought her mother her own house.
Besides insights about the writing process, Tan gives you glimpses into the life of a professional writer. You would be surprised to know that even for a successful author like Tan “each successive book is increasingly difficult to write”. She also writes about the inspiration for her characters and stories of The Joy Luck Club and The Valley of Amazement. These bits give you a deeper understanding of how a writer’s mind works and leave you inspired.
At the beginning of the book, Tan confesses she did not want to write a memoir but Halpern thought it would be a good idea. So he urged her to write non-fiction pieces on her creative process. They made a deal—Tan was to send him a minimum of 15 pages a week. Tan started digging through old photos and documents and this unleashed something in her. She began writing about her childhood experiences and of those recurring moments of self-doubt while working on a novel. The memoir is a compilation of the pages Tan sent to Halpern, which is why there are occasional glitches. But the writing is raw and candid and you can’t help fall in love with Tan once again.
Memoir
Where the Past Begins
Published: 2017
Publisher: 4th Estate
Language: English
Pages: 357, Paperback
Kureishi, you broke my heart
‘Intimacy’ by Hanif Kureishi is one of my most favored novels. I have picked it up so many times, I have lost count—it’s my go-to book in-between reads. I have also read many of Kureishi’s short stories and I must confess I’m a little in love with his writing.
Kureishi mostly writes about love and marriage, or rather the unraveling of one. He is cynical about relationships and that’s evident in all his stories. That cynicism is what gives them that melancholic undertone that is trademark Kureishi.
I also like his characters because they feel very familiar—they are frustrated, angry, confused, and what they are capable of depends on their circumstances. Reading the stories, you realize your flaws are what make you human and unique. And you are grateful to Kureishi for that.
So, naturally, I was ecstatic when I came across an anthology, ‘Midnight all Day’, on a recent horde-for-another-lockdown visit to Ekta Books in Thapathali, Kathmandu.
Sadly, Midnight all Day didn’t live up to my expectations. I would still give it three out of five stars but I know, deep down, that’s because I’m biased towards Kureishi. I have been more brutal in my ratings for fewer reasons in the past.
The anthology has 10 stories. Except the final one, which I found weird but intriguing, all the other stories feel half-baked and forced. Many reminded me of the plot of Intimacy—they explore the psyche behind leaving your partner—but unlike in Intimacy, you simply can’t connect with the characters or relate to their circumstances.
In ‘Strangers When We Meet’, a young actor is supposed to go on a holiday with his older married mistress, Florence. But her husband decides to accompany her on the trip and ruins their plans. In ‘That Was Then, Nick’, a married writer, meets his former lover, Natasha, and goes back to her flat. He does this while his wife is away for the day and manages to get back home just in time to make dinner. In ‘Four Blue Chairs’, a man and a woman who left their partners for each other host their first dinner as a couple.
I had major problems with the narratives. I wouldn’t call myself a feminist but I was disappointed that Kureishi chose to write about men who have left their wives for younger women but none of the stories give the women’s side. Also, in one story, a man forces his way into his ex-wife’s house when she doesn’t lend him an umbrella. The woman, in return, punches him on the face and it’s almost like Kureishi is trying to imply that both their actions were justified.
Midnight all Day is definitely not Kureishi at his best.
Fiction/Short Stories
Midnight all Day
Hanif Kureishi
Published: 1999
Publisher: Faber and Faber Ltd
Language: English
Pages: 217, Paperback
Funny and wise: A book review
Last year a friend gave me ‘Roar’ by Cecelia Ahern, a collection of 30 stories. I only got around to it this year, and that too because of the lockdown. I probably wouldn’t have picked it up if I could have gotten my hands on some of the titles I’d been meaning to read. But Roar had me hooked from the start. I couldn’t believe this gem of a book had been sitting on my bookshelf for so long and I had always overlooked it.
I actually didn’t have high expectations from Roar as I wasn’t particularly fond of Ahern’s bestselling ‘PS I Love You’. The anthology has, however, managed to put Ahern on my list of favorite storytellers. Roar was great fun and I found myself smiling—often ear to ear—while reading the stories.
The highly imaginative stories—with touches of magical realism or science fiction—are uplifting and insightful. You can see yourself, or women in your lives, in these stories. Ahern’s writing might not be beautiful but it’s empathetic and relatable.
‘The Women Who Wore Pink’ lives in a dystopian world where there are strict gender codes. ‘The Woman Who Grew Wings’ struggles to fit in when she moves to America with her family. ‘The Woman Who Ordered the Seabass Special’ teaches a lisping waitress to embrace her flaws. ‘The Women Who Slowly Disappeared’ goes to South Africa to meet a woman consultant who treats unseen middle-aged women. ‘The Woman Who Was Kept on a Shelf’ sits next to her husband’s trophies, first being admired and eventually ignored over the years of her marriage. The ‘Woman Who Had a Ticking Clock’ is concerned about her biological clock and it stresses her out unnecessarily.
The premises of Ahern’s stories are simple but they leave a lasting impact. Based on women’s experiences that are rarely discussed, each story has a moral. But what you take away from a story could be very different from what another person might glean from it. A lot of how you perceive a story depends on your unique circumstances and how you view the world and those around you.
I read the book in one go but that’s not what I would recommend you do. It’s best to read these fables one or two at a time. That way you can better enjoy the stories as well as let the messages sink in.
Fiction/Short Stories
Roar
Published: 2018
Publisher: Harper Collins
Language: English
Pages: 337, Paperback