Showing posts with label Book Review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Book Review. Show all posts
Wednesday, 14 October 2015
Book Review: The Catcher in the Rye
Victor Frankl believes that in the human psyche, there is a higher quest than the desire to maximize pleasure (satisfying sexual desires according to Freud) and minimizing pain; the quest for meaning. I have always wondered why this quest exists in more intensified form in some individuals than in others. Why the meaningless small and phony talk is perfectly fine for some individuals but causes massive discontentment in others. That 'other' is a part of a very insignificant minority, so the world keeps wondering if there is something wrong in their orientation. This is the story of an individual belonging to that insignificant minority. And from that perspective, it is a harsh critic on the institutions and norms of the society.
The first institution that comes under bitter criticism by the protagonist Harold is the institution of Education and its extensions in the form of schools. Holden has already left three schools when he flunked Pencey, a great prep school he was enrolled in. The reasons he gives for having such an aversion from schools is the sort of alienation and meaninglessness he encounters there. A lot of things can be derived from this. The idea that schools in that era (or even this one) encouraged mechanical thinking and excluded out of the box and free thinking from their narratives. The example is given by the protagonist of an open expression class, where the students practiced impromptu speeches. A student got a D just because he digresses from an apparently meaningless topic such as his farm to something meaningful such as the intricate details of those whose lives belonged to that farm. Students who shouted 'Digression, Digression!' when that thing happened were given a higher grade, an incentive to out cast those who don't fit in the system.
The institutionalization of that mechanical thinking leads to a higher social status for those who have been certified in mastering it, such as Ivy League students as mentioned in the novel. The protagonist sees them as phonies of the highest order. However those who, because of their different way of thinking and living fail that system, are even denied the certainty of belonging to a home where they can go no matter what happens. Harold wastes his time and resources around in New York because he fears that he would not be welcomed home after flunking another school. Clearly no one is willing to understand him and clearly, what he thinks about himself is inferior than what the school authorities think about him in the eyes of his parents.
One of the reasons why we tell each other our experiences and notions is because when others approve of them and tell you that they feel the same thing, it gives you a sense of certainty, of not being alone. That is how we derive our identity and strengthen it. Harold searches for that sense of certainty and belonging through out this novel. He faces bitter isolation and estrangement and he tries to overcome that by asking 'if you feel the same thing' to everyone he encounters. But people are so identified with the commodities trending in the society; shows, cars, dresses etc that they fail or are not willing to engage in a dialogue that goes beyond that. That further isolates Harold. He pursues drugs in order to numb that isolation which is a recurring theme in the post modern era. For anyone reading the review, we need to get back to each other beyond commodities and beyond treating each other as means to an end. Else we will be treated by those very commodities and their manufacturers as a means to their end, which is maximizing profit.
Harold finds solace in his relation with his young sister Phoebes. Despite her immature age, she tries to consider whatever Harold has to say without being judgmental or becoming tired. Amidst trying out everything illegal for his age, he keeps thinking about that relationship and what her sister would say if he told her about his sense of estrangement. In the end, that is the one relation that pulls him back by the willingness to go the distance with him. (which I resent though :P) May be, that's what we need in the relationships of the post modern era; space, consideration and non-judgment.
Tuesday, 23 December 2014
Aag ka Darya (The River of Fire) by Qurat ul Ain Haider- Book Review
If a novel forces you to stop now and then, and consider your own life and its extensions and from where it got extended, then there should be no doubt about the eloquent depth of that novel. The story creeps inside you, bit by bit, until it permanently extends itself inside you. For me, such was the experience of reading Aag ka Darya. It demanded a great deal of effort to read it in Urdu, for like most fourth generations of the post-colonial countries, our attachment with and command over our language is pretty shallow. However, such was the eloquence of this novel that the whole mental structure of Urdu got redefined for me, of what Urdu can be and can contain. In short, the effort was well worth it, both in terms of meaning and linguistics.
The novel starts with the Urdu translation of 'The Dry Salvages', a poem by TS Eliot. The emphasis of the poem is on reincarnation, of how the past repeats itself in the future. This theme is carried out throughout the novel by Qurat ul Ain in great depth.
The story starts in 400 BC, the age of Chankya, the first Indian philosophical giant the implementations of whom's political and religious philosophy kept the subcontinent united and under control. Qurat ul Ain Haider's emphasis is on the portrayal of such rule from the lenses of the most native people, the subalterns if you will; a theme that is persistent through out the novel. Gautam Nelamber is the character she conjures up to personify those lenses; a character in pursuit of knowledge in the Hindu traditions. He finds himself at various hamlets and is bothered by the questions whose horizons lie outside the theological and philosophical discourses that he is taught. Here comes another major theme of this novel, rather a question. Is their an end to loneliness? Is a man destined to be lonely? During the course of over 2000 years of incarnations, the philosophies of Buddhism, colonialism , Hinduism , Marxism , Islamism and Nationalism are frequently used in the contextualization of the plots. If loneliness is a philosophy, then it is the major philosophy behind which all the other philosophies find their place.
And thus we advance through the ages, the questions as persistent as ever, the characters being reborn and their thinking being redefined according to time and space, yet the questions persisting and piercing as well. We get to see a very realistic and unbiased discourse of the narratives cultivated in the minds of ordinary citizens regarding colonialism, independence and post colonialism. At times, Haider also offers insights from the mind of those who are oppressing people. That may be a minor theme as well, how the oppressed or how the people who were so ideologically against oppression tend to do the same things, being molded by the obvious question of surviving in a better way. She also depicts the dilemmas of idealists who have to give up their cherished beliefs of equality and welfare when faced with the practical questions of earning a livelihood.
A novel that evolves in the grey area and does not talk in absolutes is a pretty rare thing in Urdu, and for that Urdu will always be grateful to Qurat ul Ain Haider. Halfway through the novel, I started relating it with 'One hundred years of solitude', the theme of the same repetitive patterns of incarnations being the common factor.But for me, the weaving around of different ideologies around the lives of ordinary people, portraying the effects of those ideologies on the outlook of their lives and then again how these ordinary people observe the even more ordinary or rather impoverished people in the context of those ideologies was something truly spectacular and something that gives it an edge over one hundred years of solitude.
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