The God of Small
Things by Arundhati Roy
Harper Collins Publishers, 1998
The first thing I noticed about The God of Small Things was lushness—the lushness of India’s
setting and the lushness of a multitude of striking images created with unexpected
metaphor. Arundhati Roy writes prose that begs the reader to pick it up,
examine it to appreciate all its facets and read it again.
It was raining when
Rahel came back to Ayemenen. Slanting silver ropes slammed into loose earth,
plowing it up like gunfire.
It’s a book that begs the reader to keep a notebook handy to
record images:
It could be argued
that it began long before Christianity arrived in a boat and seeped into Kerala
like tea from a teabag.
That expression on
Ammu’s face. Like a rogue piece in a puzzle. Like a question mark that drifted
through the pages of a book and never settled at the end of a sentence.
The gray sky curdled,
and the clouds resolved themselves into little lumps, like substandard mattress
stuffing.
In addition to delicious prose, The God of Small Things delivers a haunting story and makes a definite statement about the caste system. The history of a
family is played out against the background of a changing India. Two twins, Rahel and Estha,
provide the principle lens through which we view the story. However, each character’s
point of view enriches it.
Throughout this novel, Roy
tantalizes the reader with a sense of impending doom. One aspect of this doom
is revealed early on, but each character’s part in it is held back until the
end. Roy entices the reader onward with well-placed
hints about the future. She closes the story with the fateful love scene
between two members of different castes.
The New York Times called this book “Faulknerian in its
ambitious tackling of family and race and class, Dickensian in its sharp-eyed
observation of society and character.”
Reading about author Arundhati Roy in an interview in Progressive Magazine is as moving as reading her novel. She donated her Booker prize money to a grass roots organization trying to stop the creation of dams in India that threaten the homes and livelihoods of millions. Roy writes what she believes. She says "...fiction is the truest thing there ever was. ...The writer is the midwife of understanding."
Reading about author Arundhati Roy in an interview in Progressive Magazine is as moving as reading her novel. She donated her Booker prize money to a grass roots organization trying to stop the creation of dams in India that threaten the homes and livelihoods of millions. Roy writes what she believes. She says "...fiction is the truest thing there ever was. ...The writer is the midwife of understanding."
Award-Winning Book Challenge Status: 8/12
Sounds wonderful. I also love to keep a journal to jot down images and such from my readings. Some authors have such talent that I want to hold onto it.
ReplyDeleteDefinitely true! The act of recording beautiful language carries over into our own writing, I think.
DeleteWhat incredible images. Thank you for sharing this book, Joyce.
ReplyDeleteMy november post for Janice Hardy's blog will be about poetic images in fiction. These excerpts (and I'm sure the entire book) certainly stand the test of time, so I'd love to include a link to this post if that's all right with you!
Hi Robyn. Of course you may link to the post. I would be honored. Roy's writing is filled with poetic images that are so fresh. That unexpected comparison is not so easy to achieve, and she is a master.
DeleteThank you, Joyce! The examples you chose to feature here are just wonderful.
DeleteHi Joyce, I've heard so much about this book and I've seen this more than once in bargain bookstores, but I haven't had the chance to pick it up yet. Your review made me want to go find the book NOW. I know Arundhati Roy writes in exquisite prose and I'm glad that you also shared those lovely quotes from the book. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks, Myra!
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