Why to Read: The God of Small Things

The first thing to hear after recommending The God of Small Things to someone is that they don’t like the author’s views. And I don’t know how will one’s views stop them from producing a good piece of work.

         Not advocating Roy, but I am in awe with the way she has played with language. It is amusing every time a character has to be given a reality check, the mental bell rings in brackets with a “ex-wife Chacko!”. Well no, that’s not a spoiler.

         From the very beginning, you have a fair estimate of what might have happened. Yet, you go through every page holding your breath, on the edge of your seat, completely engrossed in the surprises so well woven in the fabric of the narrative.

         For those who enjoy the mental exercise a book has to offer, this is going to be a perfect one. Joining the strings of the past and coming back to the present is a delight in itself. The biggest delight is in unravelling what the narrator meant when she said “Because you’re never told who to love, how much and how.” The language again, is praiseworthy in portraying this difference too.

         The particular Indian household, politics and culture, though described simply, has a #pun_intended connotation alongside. However, there is something very soothing about the description of an act of ‘Kathakali’. It is as if the performance is right in front of you, even if you have never before seen something like it.

           In her own words “I wrote a stubbornly visual but unfilmable book”. Thank Goodness for the ‘unfilmable’ part, because there isn’t a thing that you’d want not to be included in a movie. Every twist and turn, every scenery, every emotion is worth it.
          Although most of the times, more towards the sadder side, it never sweeps you into melancholy. You feel bad for the character, you feel bad that something like that happened to them. You feel amazed something like that exists, or someone can be so cruel or so out of senses; but it all feels real. And this reality if it is haunting, is not at least depressing.
             A perfect combination of wit, craft and aesthetics, of unions and dismemberments, it raises questions that we'd prefer are left unanswered. Despite of this 'why?' lingering in the head and heart, there is a sense of satisfaction in completing the book. "The air is full of thoughts and things to say. But at times like this, only small things are said. The big ones are left lurking behind."