A form comes into the world because it’s suited to what people at a given time and place need to say, and eventually, that time passes, and new forms must come into being.
Great analysis -I think you’ll like the Yashpal, which avoids the great pitfall you mention of Suitable Boy, in that it has a great deal of purpose. Suitable Boy is cozy, and written in the era of The Joy Luck Club and other fictions - to provide Westerners an easy, approachable glimpse into a culture outside of their own, cozy, feels good, doesn’t challenge. And for our mothers, a little slice of the good ol’ days at home 🙂
I understand why Yashpal is unknown in the West - not accessible, very 'Indian' (as in, nearly incomprehensible to the Westerner), very literary in a beautifully subtle way, and yet, like Seth, verbose - though I wish somehow he were better-known. I just got my copy of 'Dada Comrade' (also by him) yesterday.
This is probably why Ferrante's Neapolitan novels are so beloved: they take multiple forms (the bildungsroman, the confessional, the political awakening novel, the mystery) and mash them up together in a "modern" way. They're also genuinely unpleasant to read at parts in a way that most literary fiction seems to avoid.
I don’t think your chief complaint is valid. It’s not that there is no moral thesis, but rather it’s one you doesn’t recognize, possibly because you don't like it. It’s an argument for order over chaos, stability over love, that your parents have your best interests at heart. The setting is the metaphor: India is chaos, crowds, politics, religious strife; change begins at home. I don’t really like the moral either, but as far as the book fits together, the lack of internal conflict (outside of Maan, who serves as the foil), is very suitable.
But that's not really what happens in the book. Her family and parents would prefer her to marry Amit, who's much more similar to her in social class--she marries Haresh instead.
It's been a while since I read the book, so I could be wrong. If I recall correctly, Lata chooses Haresh over Amit precisely because she like's that he is calm and stable, while Amit feels more volatile and uncertain (there's also a bunch of stuff around caste and class specific to India which probably passes totally over my head). But in any case, the argument about listening to your parents isn't about doing everything exactly as they would prefer. Rather, it's about not doing things that would introduce disorder in the family (Kabir), which is the oasis of calmness in the chaotic world. It's a negative prescription, not a positive one.
Great analysis -I think you’ll like the Yashpal, which avoids the great pitfall you mention of Suitable Boy, in that it has a great deal of purpose. Suitable Boy is cozy, and written in the era of The Joy Luck Club and other fictions - to provide Westerners an easy, approachable glimpse into a culture outside of their own, cozy, feels good, doesn’t challenge. And for our mothers, a little slice of the good ol’ days at home 🙂
I bought the Yashpal! Excited to read it! Thanks for the recommendation—I don’t know that I even would’ve heard of this book otherwise.
I understand why Yashpal is unknown in the West - not accessible, very 'Indian' (as in, nearly incomprehensible to the Westerner), very literary in a beautifully subtle way, and yet, like Seth, verbose - though I wish somehow he were better-known. I just got my copy of 'Dada Comrade' (also by him) yesterday.
Very good review essay. The question of artistic form in/responding to historical moment is endlessly fascinating to me.
Another valuable essay on literature and pitfalls from a reader's and a writer's perspective.
This is probably why Ferrante's Neapolitan novels are so beloved: they take multiple forms (the bildungsroman, the confessional, the political awakening novel, the mystery) and mash them up together in a "modern" way. They're also genuinely unpleasant to read at parts in a way that most literary fiction seems to avoid.
I don’t think your chief complaint is valid. It’s not that there is no moral thesis, but rather it’s one you doesn’t recognize, possibly because you don't like it. It’s an argument for order over chaos, stability over love, that your parents have your best interests at heart. The setting is the metaphor: India is chaos, crowds, politics, religious strife; change begins at home. I don’t really like the moral either, but as far as the book fits together, the lack of internal conflict (outside of Maan, who serves as the foil), is very suitable.
But that's not really what happens in the book. Her family and parents would prefer her to marry Amit, who's much more similar to her in social class--she marries Haresh instead.
It's been a while since I read the book, so I could be wrong. If I recall correctly, Lata chooses Haresh over Amit precisely because she like's that he is calm and stable, while Amit feels more volatile and uncertain (there's also a bunch of stuff around caste and class specific to India which probably passes totally over my head). But in any case, the argument about listening to your parents isn't about doing everything exactly as they would prefer. Rather, it's about not doing things that would introduce disorder in the family (Kabir), which is the oasis of calmness in the chaotic world. It's a negative prescription, not a positive one.