I
had first read Kiran Desai's Hullabaloo In The Guava Orchard as a
gangly teenager, wishing to impress peers and parents with having read
'n' number of 'serious' books. But just as I was surprised and overjoyed
at how enjoyable a read Desai's (supposedly serious) Hullabaloo was, so
was I taken aback by the striking work of art that The Inheritance of
Loss is.
Released after a gap of 8 years, Desai's second novel is the story of life in Kalimpong for a young Sai, bereaved of her parents and with only an old, insensitive grandfather and his old but caring cook for company.The novel takes you through Sai's life in the rain-drenched hills, with a teenage romance with her Nepali tutor Gyan and a Nepalese insurgency brewing in the backdrop.
And then goes back and forth between Kalimpong and Manhattan, where the cook's son Biju works as, what else, a cook. The discrimination he faces, the reality of life for Indians (especially the illegal, poor immigrants) abroad and Biju's decision to return to India -- all make for interesting, thought-provoking and sometimes profound reading. She gives you a sense of having been there, having felt rather than seen, the miseries, hopes and joys of people like Biju and his father.
There's a strong undercurrent of empathy running through Desai's novel. And that's may be because it's a story which closely resembles her own life, while growing up as a 13-year-old in Kalimpong and so totally cued in to everything related to the mountains around her. From her observations of the pitter-patter of rain on tin roofs, to the pall of mist and fog which envelops the pretty town, to the inclusion of the majesty and awe-inspiring Kanchenjunga, almost as a character in the novel -- Desai gets it all correct, right down to the most minute and miniscule observations.It's a great read, nothwithstanding the criticism The Inheritance of Loss came in for, for its portrayal of the Gorkhaland Movement. I, for one, believe that those who fail to appreciate this one, even briefly, will surely have come into the inheritance of (literary) loss....
Released after a gap of 8 years, Desai's second novel is the story of life in Kalimpong for a young Sai, bereaved of her parents and with only an old, insensitive grandfather and his old but caring cook for company.The novel takes you through Sai's life in the rain-drenched hills, with a teenage romance with her Nepali tutor Gyan and a Nepalese insurgency brewing in the backdrop.
And then goes back and forth between Kalimpong and Manhattan, where the cook's son Biju works as, what else, a cook. The discrimination he faces, the reality of life for Indians (especially the illegal, poor immigrants) abroad and Biju's decision to return to India -- all make for interesting, thought-provoking and sometimes profound reading. She gives you a sense of having been there, having felt rather than seen, the miseries, hopes and joys of people like Biju and his father.
There's a strong undercurrent of empathy running through Desai's novel. And that's may be because it's a story which closely resembles her own life, while growing up as a 13-year-old in Kalimpong and so totally cued in to everything related to the mountains around her. From her observations of the pitter-patter of rain on tin roofs, to the pall of mist and fog which envelops the pretty town, to the inclusion of the majesty and awe-inspiring Kanchenjunga, almost as a character in the novel -- Desai gets it all correct, right down to the most minute and miniscule observations.It's a great read, nothwithstanding the criticism The Inheritance of Loss came in for, for its portrayal of the Gorkhaland Movement. I, for one, believe that those who fail to appreciate this one, even briefly, will surely have come into the inheritance of (literary) loss....
