Loads of Learned Lumber

Tuesday, May 28, 2019

Arundhati Roy, _The Ministry of Utmost Happiness_

NOT ENTIRELY LIKE The God of Small Things, but let's get to the subject of how it differs from its predecessor in a moment and focus for now on likenesses, the chief of which is that in both of Roy's novels she has a narrative voice that, like those of (say) Fielding or Sterne, one is willing to follow wherever it leads, even when it seems to be leading nowhere in particular. Like Fielding, and even more like Sterne, Roy would rather not tell her story flat out, but by means of indirect approaches and self-interruptions, with leaps ahead and detours around. A story that seems to be heading this way will likely turn out to be heading that way, its destination a good distance from where you thought you were going.

And why do you, the reader, put up with this? Because you trust her, for one thing, and for another, because she is such good company, funny, humane, insightful, honest, passionate for justice. One would rather go for miles in what seems a mistaken direction with Roy than stick to the main road with anyone else, both because you know she, without quite letting you in on everything, is headed somewhere illuminating and astonishing--somewhere where terrors may live but where joy and hope are not altogether extinct--and also because you know everything you hear along the circuitous journey to somewhere will be worth hearing.

But, as I began by mentioning, there are differences too. The Ministry of Utmost Happiness feels like a broader, more encompassing book, not just because it is longer than God of Small Things (which it is, but not by a lot, about a hundred pages), but also because it feels more public. God of Small Things wandered around some, true, it provided plenty of context, but it ultimately zoomed in on one province, one town, one family, one dreadful night. Ministry of Utmost Happiness zooms out. The hijra community of New Delhi. Hindu nationalism. Kashmir. Islamic fundamentalism. Free-market fundamentalism. It covers a lot of territory, and just when you are thinking, "wait, is that all we are going to get about Anjum?" you realize all is well, because Tilo is every bit as fascinating. And yes, we are going ti get back to Anjum.

Coincidence (?) Department: Among the settings Ministry of Utmost Happiness is an old movie theater that the state has converted into an interrogation/torture center. Viet Thanh Nguyen's The Sympathizer, if I remember right, also included an interrogation/torture center located in an old movie theater. Is this an international pattern? Or just a bit of symbolism that occurred to more than one novelist?

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