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丕賱兀乇囟 丕賱賲賳禺賮囟丞
欧宝娱乐 Choice Award
Nominee for Readers' Favorite Fiction (2013)丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 鬲丨賱賱 毓賱丕賯丕鬲 丕賱丨亘 賵丕賱廿禺賱丕氐 丕賱賲毓賯丿丞. 廿賳賴丕 賯氐丞 丨亘 丕賱兀禺賵賷賳 賰丕賳 丨亘賸丕 賳丕丿乇賸丕 賵廿禺賱丕氐賸丕 賳丕丿乇賸丕貙 賵賮賷 丕賱賵賯鬲 賳賮爻賴貙 賯氐丞 賮賯丿丕賳 賵廿丨爻丕爻 亘丕賱賵丨丿丞.
噩賵賲亘丕 賱丕賴賷乇賷 賰丕鬲亘丞 兀賲乇賷賰賷丞 賴賳丿賷丞 丕賱兀氐賱. 賱丿賷賴丕 賯丿乇丞 丕爻鬲孬賳丕卅賷丞 毓賱賶 鬲賯賲賾氐 丕賱卮禺氐賷丕鬲貙 賵賷丿 亘丕乇毓丞 賮賷 鬲賮賰賷賰 丕賱禺賷賵胤 丕賱賲鬲卮丕亘賰丞 亘丿賵丕賮毓賴賲 丕賱賮乇丿賷丞 賵鬲賵丕乇賷禺賴賲
噩賵賲亘丕 賱丕賴賷乇賷 賰丕鬲亘丞 兀賲乇賷賰賷丞 賴賳丿賷丞 丕賱兀氐賱. 賱丿賷賴丕 賯丿乇丞 丕爻鬲孬賳丕卅賷丞 毓賱賶 鬲賯賲賾氐 丕賱卮禺氐賷丕鬲貙 賵賷丿 亘丕乇毓丞 賮賷 鬲賮賰賷賰 丕賱禺賷賵胤 丕賱賲鬲卮丕亘賰丞 亘丿賵丕賮毓賴賲 丕賱賮乇丿賷丞 賵鬲賵丕乇賷禺賴賲
526 pages, Paperback
First published September 24, 2013
3,415 people are currently reading
85.6k people want to read
About the author
Jhumpa Lahiri
93听books14.2k听followersNilanjana Sudeshna "Jhumpa" Lahiri is a British-American author known for her short stories, novels, and essays in English and, more recently, in Italian.
Her debut collection of short-stories, Interpreter of Maladies (1999), won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction and the PEN/Hemingway Award, and her first novel, The Namesake (2003), was adapted into the popular film of the same name.
The Namesake was a New York Times Notable Book, a Los Angeles Times Book Prize finalist and was made into a major motion picture. Unaccustomed Earth (2008) won the Frank O'Connor International Short Story Award, while her second novel, The Lowland (2013) was a finalist for both the Man Booker Prize and the National Book Award for Fiction. On January 22, 2015, Lahiri won the US$50,000 DSC Prize for Literature for The Lowland. In these works, Lahiri explored the Indian-immigrant experience in America.
In 2012, Lahiri moved to Rome, Italy and has since then published two books of essays, and began writing in Italian, first with the 2018 novel Dove mi trovo, then with her 2023 collection Roman Stories. She also compiled, edited, and translated the Penguin Book of Italian Short Stories which consists of 40 Italian short stories written by 40 different Italian writers. She has also translated some of her own writings and those of other authors from Italian into English.
In 2014, Lahiri was awarded the National Humanities Medal. She was a professor of creative writing at Princeton University from 2015 to 2022. In 2022, she became the Millicent C. McIntosh Professor of English and Director of Creative Writing at her alma mater, Barnard College of Columbia University.
Her debut collection of short-stories, Interpreter of Maladies (1999), won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction and the PEN/Hemingway Award, and her first novel, The Namesake (2003), was adapted into the popular film of the same name.
The Namesake was a New York Times Notable Book, a Los Angeles Times Book Prize finalist and was made into a major motion picture. Unaccustomed Earth (2008) won the Frank O'Connor International Short Story Award, while her second novel, The Lowland (2013) was a finalist for both the Man Booker Prize and the National Book Award for Fiction. On January 22, 2015, Lahiri won the US$50,000 DSC Prize for Literature for The Lowland. In these works, Lahiri explored the Indian-immigrant experience in America.
In 2012, Lahiri moved to Rome, Italy and has since then published two books of essays, and began writing in Italian, first with the 2018 novel Dove mi trovo, then with her 2023 collection Roman Stories. She also compiled, edited, and translated the Penguin Book of Italian Short Stories which consists of 40 Italian short stories written by 40 different Italian writers. She has also translated some of her own writings and those of other authors from Italian into English.
In 2014, Lahiri was awarded the National Humanities Medal. She was a professor of creative writing at Princeton University from 2015 to 2022. In 2022, she became the Millicent C. McIntosh Professor of English and Director of Creative Writing at her alma mater, Barnard College of Columbia University.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 9,187 reviews
October 13, 2013
Very close to a 3. Downgraded to a 2 because Lahiri can do SO much better.
This book was just too chilly for me. Years, decades, generations pass, but people don't grow, change or express themselves- they just keep bitterness, love, sadness, guilt equally bottled up, and indulge in quiet renunciation (Subhash) or witchy selfishness (Gauri). (I've never seen any of the stereotypically bleak Scandinavian films (Bergman et al.) but I imagine that they would feel like this book does).
Lahiri is undoubtedly talented - I loved the Namesake, and thought Unaccustomed Earth was great. But this book seems like a fascinating idea grown stiff in the telling.
I'm always interested when a writer takes on the "bad mother" (not the dominating or disapproving mother, which are common enough, but the mother who doesn't instantly and instinctively put motherhood and her children first above all things), because she is such a charged figure in our current culture. But Lahiri's take ends up being not particularly nuanced or interesting - she's rather punishing and uncompromising with Gauri, and that story is as old as the hills.
Skippable.
This book was just too chilly for me. Years, decades, generations pass, but people don't grow, change or express themselves- they just keep bitterness, love, sadness, guilt equally bottled up, and indulge in quiet renunciation (Subhash) or witchy selfishness (Gauri). (I've never seen any of the stereotypically bleak Scandinavian films (Bergman et al.) but I imagine that they would feel like this book does).
Lahiri is undoubtedly talented - I loved the Namesake, and thought Unaccustomed Earth was great. But this book seems like a fascinating idea grown stiff in the telling.
I'm always interested when a writer takes on the "bad mother" (not the dominating or disapproving mother, which are common enough, but the mother who doesn't instantly and instinctively put motherhood and her children first above all things), because she is such a charged figure in our current culture. But Lahiri's take ends up being not particularly nuanced or interesting - she's rather punishing and uncompromising with Gauri, and that story is as old as the hills.
Skippable.
April 23, 2015
"It was as if Udayan were there, speaking to him, teasing him. He felt their loyalty to one another, their affection, stretched halfway across the world. Stretched perhaps to the breaking point by all that now stood between them, but at the same time refusing to break."
You don't have to be in a certain place, at a certain time to be able to catch the faint thrum of the lifeblood coursing through the pages of this book, live the heartbreak of its characters, to develop a sense of solidarity with their loss and desperation, to gaze at the spectacle of their unravelling fates across continents. But it will help if you have lived, at some point in time, in a city christened Calcutta by the British and rechristened Kolkata (the pure Bengali name) centuries later by a government intent on erasing telling signs of a nation's unfortunate colonial past. It will help if you have ever felt rudderless, adrift in a sea of anonymous human faces, unable to come to terms with a painful event, its aftermath too profound and terrible for you to grasp at once. It will help if you are carrying on with a half-life thousands of miles away from the land of your birth, toeing the line of divide between two distinct yet similar worlds.
I have lived near Tollygunge all my life - a sort of an overlapping region between the place where I spent the earliest years of my childhood and the place where I grew into a young woman. Every time I arrive at the beginning of Tollygunge Circular Road from another portion of the city, I know with a comforting certainty that I am close to home, close to the assurance of rest and a meal, close to where my loved ones await my return as yet another day reaches its inevitable end. And Ms Lahiri has brought my humble, modest, familiar Tollygunge to life. Reminded me that my decrepit and majestic city has been witness to the rise and decline of too many political regimes, to the bloodletting during senseless communal riots and a manufactured by a colonial administration too busy fighting a world war. That my city has been living for centuries before I was born, like a mythical, gargantuan beast and that it would continue to throb with life and activity years after I am gone. How silly is it that in the eagerness to match steps with the developed world, to achieve set targets, we forget the blood-soaked, tear-streaked history of the country we live in, that we are inextricably bound to the political upheavals which serve as foundation stones to our present state of equanimity, to the sheer tragedy and violence of turbulent times.
Neither am I Jhumpa Lahiri's biggest fan nor her harshest critic. My reaction to her writing has been very subdued so far. In addition, Ms Lahiri never seems to accomplish anything else other than rehashing the same old themes of nostalgia, the very cliched search for identity and the predictable rigmarole in novels recounting the immigrant experience. But with The Lowland, she has achieved something monumental, managed to rekindle an extinguished flame within me. Perhaps her achievement lies in an accurate enactment of that unmistakable sensation of being anchored to a place and a way of life, of being pulled towards a powerful centre. Whatever the case maybe, my past resentment about her 'undeserved' Pulitzer win is now gone as if it never was.
It's like she has reached out to me from across the shores of the Pacific, held my hand and gently propelled me towards a life-like portrait of Calcutta, my Kolkata, the maddening, mystifying, glorious and ugly city of my birth which will remain as beloved to me by any other name, towards the people who inhabit its upscale townships and dingy shanties, towards the unknown stories of hardship and triumph which breathe life into this jungle of steel, brick and mortar, towards the struggles of an ill-fated generation now forgotten in the mad dash for globalization, towards a culture which has molded me into what I am today. It felt like looking into a mirror after a prolonged gap and spotting something hitherto undetected in that reflection. It felt like remembering something important.
I won't go into the subject of Udayan's misguided idealism and the havoc it wreaked in the lives of his loved ones. I won't elaborate on how Subhash ended up living a proxy life, responsibly stepping up to assume all the roles designated for his brother. I will not retrace Gauri's path to self-discovery and emancipation from the assigned identities of bereaved widow, dutiful daughter-in-law, mere wife and mother. And I certainly will not defend or condemn her refusal to let her life be defined by the flawed choices of the man she loved.
Instead I would only leave you with a polite request to place your faith in the Booker committee's judgement and read this. Regardless of where you may have grown up - Rhode Island or Tollygunge - irrespective of whichever movement has left its indelible mark on the socio-political landscape of your nation - or agitation - Ms Lahiri will take you on a trip down memory lane, back to your roots, to the values that reside at your core and hold you together, to the people you have left behind somewhere in this long, befuddling journey of life but cannot ever forget. And she may remind you of who you used to be once and what you are now.
May 24, 2013
Wow. Jhumpa Lahiri's THE LOWLAND is a big novel with the power of her best short stories.
It follows the life of Subhash Mitra as he grows up in Calcutta and then moves to America--typical fare for Lahiri, but with much broader scope and even cleaner, crisper writing than the Pulitzer Prize winner has shown in the past.
With a sweeping, addictive plot, THE LOWLAND still peels naked the identities brother, lover, father, and mother, often with just a small, simple gesture. It challenges the politics of nationality with both pathetic desperation and revolutionary zeal. It makes you want and hope and despair with devastating stories of passion and indifference.
I won't write much about the plot because publication's still so far off, plus: spoilers. But when you read it we need to talk: I could write essays on the relationship between the two brother or the sensory magic Lahiri effortlessly conjures in the most simple domestic chores.
But simply put: Jhumpa Lahiri might be my favorite living writer, and this is definitely my favorite of her books.
It follows the life of Subhash Mitra as he grows up in Calcutta and then moves to America--typical fare for Lahiri, but with much broader scope and even cleaner, crisper writing than the Pulitzer Prize winner has shown in the past.
With a sweeping, addictive plot, THE LOWLAND still peels naked the identities brother, lover, father, and mother, often with just a small, simple gesture. It challenges the politics of nationality with both pathetic desperation and revolutionary zeal. It makes you want and hope and despair with devastating stories of passion and indifference.
I won't write much about the plot because publication's still so far off, plus: spoilers. But when you read it we need to talk: I could write essays on the relationship between the two brother or the sensory magic Lahiri effortlessly conjures in the most simple domestic chores.
But simply put: Jhumpa Lahiri might be my favorite living writer, and this is definitely my favorite of her books.
March 21, 2014
Twilight鈥檚 Children
He had found the letter under his brother鈥檚 bed.
He had not minded the dust that lit up the damp light of the room. He had read it immediately. But now that he was back in his room, he took it out again, wanting to read it one more time, as always.
He remembered all the letters he used to receive from India and of how he could hear his Udayan鈥檚 childhood voice as he read it, even when the voice was long changed. In this letter he could not.
This time he picked up from the third page of the letter, glancing at the parts that did not make sense to him.
What defines identity once you are away from your center? What defines the center when you are away from our identity?
He wondered why Udayan would take the trouble to write all this when it must have been such a struggle to write at all. With that hand of his鈥� Is it because he wanted to take comfort in talking with me? Or does he just write whatever comes to mind, arrange them in a semblance of order and mail them across the oceans? He looked back at the page.
Is it anger in the obvious betterment seen all around you? Is it shame that you were never really part of it? That you were not part of building it? And instead of building one you have just taken the easier path? Is it pride, perhaps, in your independence? Is it the blustering of the intolerable journalist when he talks about the better 鈥榮ystems鈥�? Is it just a sense of loss of all that is left behind?
He skipped the last few lines and then skipped to the next page. Udayan鈥檚 handwriting always used to deteriorate towards the end of a page and now it was almost unreadable. 鈥楴ot that I am missing much,鈥� he said to himself.
Wherein lies the center of the modern man鈥檚 existence?
Is it in an imaginary village consisting of all that mattered to him as he was growing up - do they ever break that circle? Or is it constantly expanded as you grow? Or is it constantly redefined?
If you don鈥檛 have the less developed multitudes (relatives like me) to look upon you from that left-behind circle, will any achievement truly matter in life? Can your center, your point of reference and your identity, only be defined from a transpositional view from below? Or is It from a patriarchal view from above that leaves you smarting?
He was not sure why Udayan had taken to writing to him as if the roles were reversed - as if he was the one who had never set foot beyond his home city and as if Udayan was the one who had roamed the world and thought about a home that had been left behind with such ease. Of course, Udayan wouldn鈥檛 have been able to leave behind anything. He had been able to. 鈥榃ith ease,鈥� he repeated doubtfully.
He had skipped ahead again without noticing it but decided to carry on. He knew he would be reading it over later. Again.
What of the constant sense that assaults you of not being part of the 鈥榬eal鈥� world - of the world you inhabit - the ones outside your country, your center being somehow artificial? Is it this artificiality that gives you wings? Soaring in a flight of fancy to heights you wouldn鈥檛 have dreamed of back where the real things are?
It is not as if he didn鈥檛 know that this was probably Udayan鈥檚 way of teasing him into coming back home. And it is not as if he didn鈥檛 know why it was never posted. He started skipping across the letter faster, eager to reach where he was addressed directly. Eager to see if could recapture the childhood voice when he read his brother addressing him directly instead of talking platitudes. He uttered a faint hum as he skipped across increasingly badly scribbled lines.
Is it a requirement to step outside the circle to be able to step outside it?
鈥�
How do you view the real world then? Are they the dream now that you are living the dream?
鈥�
Can you sleep knowing that the dream is never to be dreamt?
鈥�
Why wouldn鈥檛 you try to dream up some solutions as well then? Why wouldn鈥檛 you start believing that your newfound wings would work in that 鈥榬eal鈥� world too? Why wouldn鈥檛 you even consider flying back?
鈥�
Why wouldn鈥檛 you attempt to solve all the problems?
Even if you never attempt it, you know that with these wings of yours, any problem is an easy one, especially those - the ones in that 鈥榬eal鈥� world. The shadow world of reality.
He felt a faint irritation with his brother now. What right did he have to lecture? What had he done except read a bunch of books and preach around? Then he checked himself. Udayan had always stopped teasing whenever he got angry. He used to always know why.
It is not necessary, of course, that the circle of identity had to be a country or a village or a society or family - stepping outside your circle, outside our reality gives you wings and solutions - but the solutions and the wings are never to be allowed back in - you may step back in but you step back in as yourself, without the fancy stuff. And then you have to forget the dream. You can only inhabit the twilight or the sunrise. Never both.
Ah, he remembered, now is when he talks about the book he had asked me to send to Anita. Udayan had ended up reading it first. Mostly because one of the main characters in the book shared his name. He tried to recollect the little he had read of the book before wrapping it. He knew that much of Udayan鈥檚 ramblings in this letter might have come from the book.
After all, there were some parallels. It was the eternal afterlife of the exile that Jhumpa Lahiri was always expert at dissecting. 鈥楳aybe it was all a build up towards telling me why I should read it too,鈥� he mused, 鈥榤aybe he was not taunting me at all鈥�. Or maybe he felt the book could do that job much better.
There are some books which once read you have a compulsion to make others read - as if the enjoyment is not complete until it is shared. Until you can see the expression of amazement in the other鈥檚 face when they have read too - your enjoyment growing in the realization of theirs.
This book is not like that - it is a quiet pleasure to read but there is no expectation of pleasure from the sharing of it - there is no compulsion to talk about it - there is nothing much to talk about really. It is boring in its own way: a beautiful and boring stream that you saw on your way - you paused to see it but you don鈥檛 run home to get your wife to stare at it together.
I was excited to read it, to see how it would capture the times that we have lived through. Times that held so much meaning for us. But, it was not meant to be of the masses and the loudness of the massed struggle - just of the individuals and of the quietness of their desperations 鈥� it requires no knowledge of our complicated history or the nuances of our anger that ignited the streets. It was not even remotely concerned about all that鈥�
He started searching for the book among the shelves. Then under the bed. His brother loved to sleep with a book and let it slide under his bed as one arm arced and drooped. There it was. Almost brand new. Only two pages bent to mark places to return to. He turned back to the letter.
We are Twilight鈥檚 Children, brother, the Midnight鈥檚 Children was still some way ahead of us - we are the ones without definition. We were born before the darkness set in, and the day too far off.
After reading The Namesake (the one that you had sent me years ago - ordering me to read it and that you wanted me to get a sense of your University student life), I searched for something new in this one鈥� trying to find what excited the author, trying to get a glimpse into your life - the intimacy with the characters was there - that was expected, that was known; the reality of private lives was there - again known, again expected. What set this apart from the other one? Is it the suffering? But what is suffering? Where was it? I couldn鈥檛 see it? Is it necessary that your own anguish has to be less than that of a character鈥檚 for you to be able to feel empathy?
But, when I read about this one (in an editorial review), I half thought I could get you to read it... to understand me - another book from the same author. There seemed to be a symmetry to that. But it was not to be. It was not about Bengal, at least not the Bengal that I lived through鈥� it was not to be.
I am told the author grew up in Rhode island - that intimacy is visible. Rhode island becomes more of a home to the reader than his own Bengal. Again, my purposes were not being served by the author.
He looked at the marked pages of the book again and noticed that both seemed to be underlined faintly on lines that described their city. The language was exquisite. Maybe the time away from his expected times and places put him off the book. Udayan was never one for relishing language. He always wanted meanings and words to speak loud and bold.
You had told that you would try to read this before sending it to me. If you managed to complete the book, you must have realized that the book is not very atypical of Lahiri. I am afraid she will find it hard to win another Booker until she breaks out of her own mould or a Booker Committee comes along that doesn鈥檛 take the trouble to have read the previous winners.
He smiled at his brother鈥檚 silly mistake and continued reading. But he found that he was skipping through the lines now, without reading much. Soon he had reached the end of the letter. It did not end with the usual wishes and he knew that it had not been finished. He quietly flipped back to the beginning again. He could hear the milkman cycling outside on his early morning rounds.
Their relationship had been stretched - stretched halfway across the world - refusing to break, no matter how much he tried.
He walked slowly to the window-sill and lit the candle he had placed here. He watched as the ashes settled nearby and turned away as the breeze started to carry them away.
July 26, 2013
I've been postponing writing a review of this book because I'm not sure what I can say that hasn't been already said by others in a more eloquent fashion. So I'll record here my lingering reaction, the feeling that has stayed with me after two months:
This book is haunting and haunted. A pair of linked tragedies disrupt forever the lives of three generations. Like in The Infatuations, by Javier Marias, several characters are unable to let go, though the response in Marias's characters is more rationalized, analyzed over and over, while in The Lowland it leaves the characters partially stunted, emotionally paralyzed and sort of vacant. Of course, the individual reactions vary, but there's this common empty room in their hearts that refuses to be filled. Lahiri drives this point home painfully and beautifully through actual vacated spaces: balconies, home offices, beds, chairs, etc. where the absent linger in spirit, forever haunting the ones who stayed. This is a powerful emotional read, and obviously a very sad one, though I could discern mostly hope in the final pages.
If you're looking for a grand, sweeping, but intimate novel that will find a spot in your heart and refuse to let go, don't miss this one.
This book is haunting and haunted. A pair of linked tragedies disrupt forever the lives of three generations. Like in The Infatuations, by Javier Marias, several characters are unable to let go, though the response in Marias's characters is more rationalized, analyzed over and over, while in The Lowland it leaves the characters partially stunted, emotionally paralyzed and sort of vacant. Of course, the individual reactions vary, but there's this common empty room in their hearts that refuses to be filled. Lahiri drives this point home painfully and beautifully through actual vacated spaces: balconies, home offices, beds, chairs, etc. where the absent linger in spirit, forever haunting the ones who stayed. This is a powerful emotional read, and obviously a very sad one, though I could discern mostly hope in the final pages.
If you're looking for a grand, sweeping, but intimate novel that will find a spot in your heart and refuse to let go, don't miss this one.
April 20, 2022
One of the best works of fiction I have ever read. I cried reading it in my office, whisper-screamed 鈥渙mg鈥� about it on my couch, and raved about it to my friends over FaceTime and Zoom. As a brief plot summary, The Lowland starts out with two brothers living in Calcutta, Subhash, who moves to the United States to attain his doctorate, and Udayan, who joins the Naxalite movement, a rebellion to eliminate inequity and poverty. When Udayan鈥檚 involvement in the movement get riskier and more dangerous, the consequences of his actions reverberate across the lives of Subhash and their parents, Gauri, Udayan鈥檚 newly pregnant wife, as well as generations to come. I want to do this book justice so I will describe the four main reasons I loved it so much.
Reasons 1 and 2: Jhumpa Lahiri鈥檚 characters and her writing. It鈥檚 hard to separate these reasons because they feel so intertwined. When it comes to her characters, Lahiri just gets it. She captures people鈥檚 core desires and insecurities, often about connection and belonging, and lays them bare on the page. To accomplish this, she uses such restrained and unadorned prose that feels both soothing and immensely precise, like a wire pulled tight and ready for release.
To fanboy her writing with more depth, I feel like Lahiri masters showing and not telling. She writes about such nuanced family dynamics, like, oh, this character has abandonment issues because of her parents, or, this character misses when his daughter had been more dependent on him. Instead of announcing any of these dynamics though, she shows it to us, with writing that feels both effortless and skilled. I felt such deep care for Subhash, Gauri, and Bela, flaws and all. Because of Lahiri鈥檚 prose, I felt these characters鈥� emotions on my skin and in my heart, as if they were my own.
Reason 3: Lahiri also does an excellent job of showing how one moment in time or one movement in history can alter the course of several people鈥檚 lives in ineluctable ways. While that sentiment may sound obvious, like, duh, moments in time affect people later on, Lahiri renders this idea in through the lives of her characters with great poignancy and precision. Given Lahiri鈥檚 attention to detail in the historical events she portrays and in how she writes about her characters, each development in her characters鈥� lives felt even more quietly momentous because we can see the past behind each new event. She also captures how forces such as heteronormativity and women鈥檚 restricted autonomy because of patriarchy affect people鈥檚 decisions in heartbreaking ways.
Reason 4: On a personal note, as the child of Vietnamese refugees to the United States, I feel like reading this book helped me develop a deeper empathy for my parents than I ever had before while still holding them accountable for the ways they failed me. While I can鈥檛 speak to the experience of Indian people specifically, I often feel like parents who are immigrants or refugees are so often portrayed as one of two extremes, either as backward in their ideas and beliefs (e.g., 鈥渢iger parents鈥�) or as all-sacrificing super humans. In The Lowland, Jhumpa Lahiri casts these characters as human, with both imperfections and considerable resiliency, to survive even through upheaval and displacement.
I feel so thankful to Jhumpa Lahiri for this book. One, for a phenomenal story and her beautiful writing. Two, I know this book has changed my life and perspective for the better. Such is the power of fiction, and in this case The Lowland specifically.
Also, for those who have already read the book, I want to describe a few scenes that I fanboyed the freak out about. There are dozens that evoked great emotion from me though to name a few:
Reasons 1 and 2: Jhumpa Lahiri鈥檚 characters and her writing. It鈥檚 hard to separate these reasons because they feel so intertwined. When it comes to her characters, Lahiri just gets it. She captures people鈥檚 core desires and insecurities, often about connection and belonging, and lays them bare on the page. To accomplish this, she uses such restrained and unadorned prose that feels both soothing and immensely precise, like a wire pulled tight and ready for release.
To fanboy her writing with more depth, I feel like Lahiri masters showing and not telling. She writes about such nuanced family dynamics, like, oh, this character has abandonment issues because of her parents, or, this character misses when his daughter had been more dependent on him. Instead of announcing any of these dynamics though, she shows it to us, with writing that feels both effortless and skilled. I felt such deep care for Subhash, Gauri, and Bela, flaws and all. Because of Lahiri鈥檚 prose, I felt these characters鈥� emotions on my skin and in my heart, as if they were my own.
Reason 3: Lahiri also does an excellent job of showing how one moment in time or one movement in history can alter the course of several people鈥檚 lives in ineluctable ways. While that sentiment may sound obvious, like, duh, moments in time affect people later on, Lahiri renders this idea in through the lives of her characters with great poignancy and precision. Given Lahiri鈥檚 attention to detail in the historical events she portrays and in how she writes about her characters, each development in her characters鈥� lives felt even more quietly momentous because we can see the past behind each new event. She also captures how forces such as heteronormativity and women鈥檚 restricted autonomy because of patriarchy affect people鈥檚 decisions in heartbreaking ways.
Reason 4: On a personal note, as the child of Vietnamese refugees to the United States, I feel like reading this book helped me develop a deeper empathy for my parents than I ever had before while still holding them accountable for the ways they failed me. While I can鈥檛 speak to the experience of Indian people specifically, I often feel like parents who are immigrants or refugees are so often portrayed as one of two extremes, either as backward in their ideas and beliefs (e.g., 鈥渢iger parents鈥�) or as all-sacrificing super humans. In The Lowland, Jhumpa Lahiri casts these characters as human, with both imperfections and considerable resiliency, to survive even through upheaval and displacement.
I feel so thankful to Jhumpa Lahiri for this book. One, for a phenomenal story and her beautiful writing. Two, I know this book has changed my life and perspective for the better. Such is the power of fiction, and in this case The Lowland specifically.
Also, for those who have already read the book, I want to describe a few scenes that I fanboyed the freak out about. There are dozens that evoked great emotion from me though to name a few:
September 21, 2013
Two brothers, born in India before partition, come of political age in the 1960s. One brother becomes politically active, the other doesn鈥檛, and their lives unfold in completely disparate ways. Tragedy is inevitable, and families struggle to readjust and heal. Some adjust better than others.
The word 鈥楶otentially鈥� should have preceded the publisher鈥檚 blurb of 鈥淪uspenseful, sweeping, piercingly intimate鈥�, because the opportunities to create that kind of story were squandered. There was a rich substrate to mine: the struggles of the Bengali communist party, the reconciliation of politics with the realities of everyday family life, immigration and integration, grief and its effects, and the evolution of people as they grow from youth to middle age to their winters. None of these were explored; they were merely described.
The book spans over fifty years of the adults鈥� lives, yet fails to recognise that people change as they age. We are not the same in late middle age as we were in early adulthood. We mature, we acquire wisdom (of varying degrees, it鈥檚 true, some acquire a lot more than others), we gain insight into complex matters. This is the byproduct of enduring, surviving, aging. But Lahiri鈥檚 characters don鈥檛 evolve, so they don鈥檛 seem real; they remain static, dooming the reader to boredom.
This is a book of promise unfulfilled. It was the last of the Booker shortlist that I read, and it was the weakest.
The word 鈥楶otentially鈥� should have preceded the publisher鈥檚 blurb of 鈥淪uspenseful, sweeping, piercingly intimate鈥�, because the opportunities to create that kind of story were squandered. There was a rich substrate to mine: the struggles of the Bengali communist party, the reconciliation of politics with the realities of everyday family life, immigration and integration, grief and its effects, and the evolution of people as they grow from youth to middle age to their winters. None of these were explored; they were merely described.
The book spans over fifty years of the adults鈥� lives, yet fails to recognise that people change as they age. We are not the same in late middle age as we were in early adulthood. We mature, we acquire wisdom (of varying degrees, it鈥檚 true, some acquire a lot more than others), we gain insight into complex matters. This is the byproduct of enduring, surviving, aging. But Lahiri鈥檚 characters don鈥檛 evolve, so they don鈥檛 seem real; they remain static, dooming the reader to boredom.
This is a book of promise unfulfilled. It was the last of the Booker shortlist that I read, and it was the weakest.
September 14, 2020
The Lowland, Jhumpa Lahiri
The Lowland is the second novel by American author of Indian origin Jhumpa Lahiri, published by Alfred A. Knopf and Random House in 2013.
Part I: Raised in Tollygunge in Calcutta, brothers Subhash and Udayan are inseparable; they find joy in fixing and listening to radios, learning Morse Code, and looking out for each other at school.
When they leave home for university studies, their ideologies are challenged; Udayan embraces the Naxalite Movement while Subhash is more interested in further education in preparation for his career and leaves for graduate studies in Rhode Island.
Subhash learns that despite the massive bloodshed as a result of the Naxalite Movement, all attention from the press is focused on the Vietnam War; this becomes crystal clear to him when his roommate Richard, an earnest student activist, ignorantly remarks "Naxalbari? What's that?" At the end of his first year in the United States, Subhash learns that Udayan has found a wife, Gauri. ...
Part II: Gauri, who meets Udayan through her brother, is at first apathetic to him. As time passes, however, they talk and trade ideas. ...
Part III: Subhash returns to Calcutta to find Gauri staying with his parents, who do not treat her with respect. Gauri is pregnant with Udayan's child. His mother Bijoli and his father plan to take the child and forsake Gauri. He asks what happened to Udayan but parents refuse to tell him but Gauri does tell him after initially offering some resistance. ...
Part IV: Gauri agrees to Subhash's proposal, but is still distraught. She distracts herself, however, by going to the nearby university and sitting-in on philosophy lectures. She then gives birth to Bela. Shortly after, Subhash and Gauri have sex for the first time, although it is unsatisfying for both parties. ...
Part V: Subhash's father dies sometimes while Subhash is in the states but Subhash is not able to visit Calcutta to pay his respects until Bela is seven. Subhash brings Bela and tells his mother in a letter not to reveal Udayan's connection to Bela during their stay. However, one day, while Bijoli is in a trance, she asks Bela where her father is before snapping out of it, almost revealing the truth. Bela sees pictures of Udayan and asks Subhash who it is. He responds that he is Udayan, her deceased uncle. During their final days in Calcutta, they go shopping for gifts for Bijoli and Gauri. When they return to Rhode Island, they learn that Gauri has left. ...
Part VI: After bouncing around all of California teaching, Gauri finds a stable job teaching at presumably one of the Claremont Colleges. Gauri contemplates reaching out to Subhash, Bela, and her friends but never does, living a mostly solitary life. ...
Part VII: Gauri, in her later years, receives a visit from graduate student Dipankar who wishes to write a dissertation about the Naxalite movement and SDS and approaches her looking for a primary source (Gauri attended Presidency before moving to Rhode Island). She says that she will help him but does not want to be acknowledged. ...
Part VIII: Subhash and Elise marry and go on their honeymoon to Kenmare, Elise's ancestral homeland. When he sees certain rock formations, he is reminded of Udayan. The final chapter revisits the day Udayan was killed. Udayan is no angel; he participates in murder. Despite this, he feels some regret, feeling that if he had met Gauri a little sooner, he could have saved himself from such a life. As he dies, he thinks fondly of Gauri.
鬲丕乇蹖禺 賳禺爻鬲蹖賳 禺賵丕賳卮: 乇賵夭 賳禺爻鬲 賲丕賴 噩賵賱丕蹖 爻丕賱 2015賲蹖賱丕丿蹖
毓賳賵丕賳: 夭賲蹖賳 倬爻鬲貨 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴: 噩賵賲倬丕 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖貨 賲鬲乇噩賲: 賲賳蹖跇賴 噩賱丕賱蹖貨 鬲賴乇丕賳貙 丕賱亘乇夭貙 1392貨 丿乇 477氐貨 卮丕亘讴 9789644428746貨 賲賵囟賵毓 丿丕爻鬲丕賳賴丕蹖 賳賵蹖爻賳丿诏丕賳 賴賳丿蹖 鬲亘丕乇 丌賲乇蹖讴丕蹖蹖 - 爻丿賴 21賲
毓賳賵丕賳: 诏賵丿蹖貨 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴: 噩賵賲倬丕 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖貨 賲鬲乇噩賲: 丕賲蹖乇賲賴丿蹖 丨賯蹖賯鬲貨 鬲賴乇丕賳貙 賲丕賴蹖貙 1393貨 丿乇 408氐貨 卮丕亘讴 9789642090266貨 趩丕倬 丿賵賲 1393貨 趩丕倬 趩賴丕乇賲 1397貨
毓賳賵丕賳 丿賵賲蹖賳 乇賲丕賳 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 蹖 賴賳丿蹖 鬲亘丕乇 丌賲乇蹖讴丕蹖蹖 芦噩賵賲倬丕 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖禄貙 賴賲蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 芦诏賵丿蹖 (夭賲蹖賳 倬爻鬲)禄 丕爻鬲貙 讴賴 賳禺爻鬲蹖賳 亘丕乇 丕賳鬲卮丕乇丕鬲 芦丌賱賮乇丿 丕蹖. 賳丕倬 賵 乇丕賳丿賵賲 賴丕賵爻禄 丌賳乇丕 丿乇 爻丕賱 2013賲蹖賱丕丿蹖 賲賳鬲卮乇 讴乇丿賳丿貨 乇賲丕賳 亘賴 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 夭賳丿诏蹖 丿賵 亘乇丕丿乇 亘賴 賳丕賲鈥屬囏й�: 芦爻賵亘賴丕卮禄 賵 芦丕賵丿丕蹖丕賳禄貙 丿乇 丿賴賴 賴丕蹖 1950賲蹖賱丕丿蹖 賵 1960賲蹖賱丕丿蹖貙 丿乇 芦讴賱讴鬲賴禄 賲蹖鈥屬矩必ж藏� 讴賴 蹖讴蹖 亘賴 噩賳亘卮 芦賳丕讴夭丕賱 賴賳丿禄 賲蹖鈥屬聚屬堎嗀� 賵 丿蹖诏乇蹖 亘賴 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 賲賴丕噩乇鬲 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 乇賲丕賳 乇賵丕蹖鬲 賳鬲蹖噩賴 蹖 丕賳鬲禺丕亘 丕蹖賳 丿賵 亘乇丕丿乇 乇丕貙 亘丕夭诏賵 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 乇賲丕賳 芦诏賵丿蹖 (夭賲蹖賳 倬爻鬲)禄 亘乇賳丿賴 蹖 噩丕蹖夭賴 倬賳噩丕賴 賴夭丕乇 丿賱丕乇蹖 芦丿蹖鈥�.丕爻鈥�.爻蹖.禄 亘乇丕蹖 丕丿亘蹖丕鬲 噩賳賵亘 丌爻蹖丕貙 賵 賳丕賲夭丿 芦噩丕蹖夭賴 蹖 亘賵讴乇禄貙 芦噩丕蹖夭賴 讴鬲丕亘 賲賱蹖禄 賵 芦噩丕蹖夭賴 丕丿亘蹖丕鬲 丿丕爻鬲丕賳蹖 夭賳丕賳禄 亘賵丿賴 丕爻鬲貨 丕蹖賳 乇賲丕賳 乇丕 亘丕賳賵 芦賲賳蹖跇賴 噩賱丕賱蹖禄 賵 噩賳丕亘 芦丕賲蹖乇賲賴丿蹖 丨賯蹖賯鬲禄貙 亘賴 賮丕乇爻蹖 亘乇诏乇丿丕賳丿賴 丕賳丿
鬲丕乇蹖禺 亘賴賳诏丕賲 乇爻丕賳蹖 23/06/1399賴噩乇蹖 禺賵乇卮蹖丿蹖貨 丕. 卮乇亘蹖丕賳蹖
The Lowland is the second novel by American author of Indian origin Jhumpa Lahiri, published by Alfred A. Knopf and Random House in 2013.
Part I: Raised in Tollygunge in Calcutta, brothers Subhash and Udayan are inseparable; they find joy in fixing and listening to radios, learning Morse Code, and looking out for each other at school.
When they leave home for university studies, their ideologies are challenged; Udayan embraces the Naxalite Movement while Subhash is more interested in further education in preparation for his career and leaves for graduate studies in Rhode Island.
Subhash learns that despite the massive bloodshed as a result of the Naxalite Movement, all attention from the press is focused on the Vietnam War; this becomes crystal clear to him when his roommate Richard, an earnest student activist, ignorantly remarks "Naxalbari? What's that?" At the end of his first year in the United States, Subhash learns that Udayan has found a wife, Gauri. ...
Part II: Gauri, who meets Udayan through her brother, is at first apathetic to him. As time passes, however, they talk and trade ideas. ...
Part III: Subhash returns to Calcutta to find Gauri staying with his parents, who do not treat her with respect. Gauri is pregnant with Udayan's child. His mother Bijoli and his father plan to take the child and forsake Gauri. He asks what happened to Udayan but parents refuse to tell him but Gauri does tell him after initially offering some resistance. ...
Part IV: Gauri agrees to Subhash's proposal, but is still distraught. She distracts herself, however, by going to the nearby university and sitting-in on philosophy lectures. She then gives birth to Bela. Shortly after, Subhash and Gauri have sex for the first time, although it is unsatisfying for both parties. ...
Part V: Subhash's father dies sometimes while Subhash is in the states but Subhash is not able to visit Calcutta to pay his respects until Bela is seven. Subhash brings Bela and tells his mother in a letter not to reveal Udayan's connection to Bela during their stay. However, one day, while Bijoli is in a trance, she asks Bela where her father is before snapping out of it, almost revealing the truth. Bela sees pictures of Udayan and asks Subhash who it is. He responds that he is Udayan, her deceased uncle. During their final days in Calcutta, they go shopping for gifts for Bijoli and Gauri. When they return to Rhode Island, they learn that Gauri has left. ...
Part VI: After bouncing around all of California teaching, Gauri finds a stable job teaching at presumably one of the Claremont Colleges. Gauri contemplates reaching out to Subhash, Bela, and her friends but never does, living a mostly solitary life. ...
Part VII: Gauri, in her later years, receives a visit from graduate student Dipankar who wishes to write a dissertation about the Naxalite movement and SDS and approaches her looking for a primary source (Gauri attended Presidency before moving to Rhode Island). She says that she will help him but does not want to be acknowledged. ...
Part VIII: Subhash and Elise marry and go on their honeymoon to Kenmare, Elise's ancestral homeland. When he sees certain rock formations, he is reminded of Udayan. The final chapter revisits the day Udayan was killed. Udayan is no angel; he participates in murder. Despite this, he feels some regret, feeling that if he had met Gauri a little sooner, he could have saved himself from such a life. As he dies, he thinks fondly of Gauri.
鬲丕乇蹖禺 賳禺爻鬲蹖賳 禺賵丕賳卮: 乇賵夭 賳禺爻鬲 賲丕賴 噩賵賱丕蹖 爻丕賱 2015賲蹖賱丕丿蹖
毓賳賵丕賳: 夭賲蹖賳 倬爻鬲貨 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴: 噩賵賲倬丕 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖貨 賲鬲乇噩賲: 賲賳蹖跇賴 噩賱丕賱蹖貨 鬲賴乇丕賳貙 丕賱亘乇夭貙 1392貨 丿乇 477氐貨 卮丕亘讴 9789644428746貨 賲賵囟賵毓 丿丕爻鬲丕賳賴丕蹖 賳賵蹖爻賳丿诏丕賳 賴賳丿蹖 鬲亘丕乇 丌賲乇蹖讴丕蹖蹖 - 爻丿賴 21賲
毓賳賵丕賳: 诏賵丿蹖貨 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴: 噩賵賲倬丕 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖貨 賲鬲乇噩賲: 丕賲蹖乇賲賴丿蹖 丨賯蹖賯鬲貨 鬲賴乇丕賳貙 賲丕賴蹖貙 1393貨 丿乇 408氐貨 卮丕亘讴 9789642090266貨 趩丕倬 丿賵賲 1393貨 趩丕倬 趩賴丕乇賲 1397貨
毓賳賵丕賳 丿賵賲蹖賳 乇賲丕賳 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 蹖 賴賳丿蹖 鬲亘丕乇 丌賲乇蹖讴丕蹖蹖 芦噩賵賲倬丕 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖禄貙 賴賲蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 芦诏賵丿蹖 (夭賲蹖賳 倬爻鬲)禄 丕爻鬲貙 讴賴 賳禺爻鬲蹖賳 亘丕乇 丕賳鬲卮丕乇丕鬲 芦丌賱賮乇丿 丕蹖. 賳丕倬 賵 乇丕賳丿賵賲 賴丕賵爻禄 丌賳乇丕 丿乇 爻丕賱 2013賲蹖賱丕丿蹖 賲賳鬲卮乇 讴乇丿賳丿貨 乇賲丕賳 亘賴 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 夭賳丿诏蹖 丿賵 亘乇丕丿乇 亘賴 賳丕賲鈥屬囏й�: 芦爻賵亘賴丕卮禄 賵 芦丕賵丿丕蹖丕賳禄貙 丿乇 丿賴賴 賴丕蹖 1950賲蹖賱丕丿蹖 賵 1960賲蹖賱丕丿蹖貙 丿乇 芦讴賱讴鬲賴禄 賲蹖鈥屬矩必ж藏� 讴賴 蹖讴蹖 亘賴 噩賳亘卮 芦賳丕讴夭丕賱 賴賳丿禄 賲蹖鈥屬聚屬堎嗀� 賵 丿蹖诏乇蹖 亘賴 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 賲賴丕噩乇鬲 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 乇賲丕賳 乇賵丕蹖鬲 賳鬲蹖噩賴 蹖 丕賳鬲禺丕亘 丕蹖賳 丿賵 亘乇丕丿乇 乇丕貙 亘丕夭诏賵 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 乇賲丕賳 芦诏賵丿蹖 (夭賲蹖賳 倬爻鬲)禄 亘乇賳丿賴 蹖 噩丕蹖夭賴 倬賳噩丕賴 賴夭丕乇 丿賱丕乇蹖 芦丿蹖鈥�.丕爻鈥�.爻蹖.禄 亘乇丕蹖 丕丿亘蹖丕鬲 噩賳賵亘 丌爻蹖丕貙 賵 賳丕賲夭丿 芦噩丕蹖夭賴 蹖 亘賵讴乇禄貙 芦噩丕蹖夭賴 讴鬲丕亘 賲賱蹖禄 賵 芦噩丕蹖夭賴 丕丿亘蹖丕鬲 丿丕爻鬲丕賳蹖 夭賳丕賳禄 亘賵丿賴 丕爻鬲貨 丕蹖賳 乇賲丕賳 乇丕 亘丕賳賵 芦賲賳蹖跇賴 噩賱丕賱蹖禄 賵 噩賳丕亘 芦丕賲蹖乇賲賴丿蹖 丨賯蹖賯鬲禄貙 亘賴 賮丕乇爻蹖 亘乇诏乇丿丕賳丿賴 丕賳丿
鬲丕乇蹖禺 亘賴賳诏丕賲 乇爻丕賳蹖 23/06/1399賴噩乇蹖 禺賵乇卮蹖丿蹖貨 丕. 卮乇亘蹖丕賳蹖
December 8, 2019
"Behind the water hyacinth, in the flood water of the Lowland: this was where, If the neighborhood was raided, Udayan had told her he would hide. He told her that there was a section where the growth was particularly dense. He kept the kerosene tin behind the house, to help him over the back wall. Even with the injured hand, he could manage it. He鈥檇 practiced it, late at night, a few times."
Hey Jhumpa!
Your name is so rhythmic that I could not resist myself addressing you while writing my thoughts about your book. It has some musical inkling in it, though I am not at all aware of its meaning!
I am a fan of your subtle observation and of your crispness when you depict that ambiance in and around the characters in your prose. You do it so well that I usually get immersed in it. I came across your writings for the first time in and when I have finished your second book; my opinion about your penning skills, has not changed much.
Though I had not much liked the subject matter of The Namesake, years ago when I read it, I can give it another try anytime soon, with this confession that I have now somehow, developed the patience and a kind of forbearance, of venturing into the realms of those stories, which were never my cup of tea a few years back.
Comparing to that I liked this story more because of its range and prevalence not only in terms of space and time but also in terms of the sweep, it has produced within and outside of those relationships, which you carried forward to the next generations of your characters.
You began your story of two brothers Subhash and Udayan, who had never set the foot in the Tolly Club, like most people in the vicinity, they had passed by its wooden gate, it's brick walls hundreds of times.
鈥淪ubhash brought his hands together. He felt the weight of his brother鈥榮 foot, the worn sole of his sandal, then his whole body, bearing down for an instant. Quickly Udayan hoisted himself up. He straddled the wall.鈥�
One of them later applies for a Ph.D. in the US and the other one gets affected by the early Naxalite movement of the late 1960s emanating and gaining ground from the Naxalbari region.
鈥淯dayan quoted what the Chinese press had predicted: the spark in Darjeeling will start a prairie fire and will certainly set the vast expanses of India ablaze.鈥�
There are repulsive characters in your novel. There is infatuation. Atonement is there. There are interlinking tragedies, painful events and their life-long impressions going from one generation to others in your story and then there is your engrossing way of writing the minute details of immigrant lives. I loved it.
But I have two issues once again, first, your prose became quite expository in the midway where I lost interest in the plot and second I felt no emotional connect with the characters, at many places, where I was expecting some emotional dialogues, some feelings and sentiments enfolding your characters. You just moved the story ahead with the single, flat and short line, making it a kind of cerebral progression in the story. That is probably your style; I disfavored it at those points.
While analyzing this, I am very much sure that you鈥檒l be a better short story writer than a novelist, though I am yet to go through your short fictional work. This is just my assumption so far!
However, the final one-third part of your story aroused some of those out of sight sentiments; I was missing since the beginning. The character of Bela and then redemption of Gauri made this book a pleasing reading experience for me.
Overall I would appreciate your daunting effort of painting the Bengali culture with US-style realistic living in the backcloth of historical Naxalite movement. I would call it a representative fiction, where you have represented multiple motifs through your characters. Repercussions of Tollygunge, built on the reclaimed land on the Bay of Bengal, in the lives of people of Rhode Island in America and reverberations of tragedies associated with Udayan鈥檚 engagement with Naxalism within the lives of this generation and the next generation have been envisioned by you wonderfully.
Thanks!
Hey Jhumpa!
Your name is so rhythmic that I could not resist myself addressing you while writing my thoughts about your book. It has some musical inkling in it, though I am not at all aware of its meaning!
I am a fan of your subtle observation and of your crispness when you depict that ambiance in and around the characters in your prose. You do it so well that I usually get immersed in it. I came across your writings for the first time in and when I have finished your second book; my opinion about your penning skills, has not changed much.
Though I had not much liked the subject matter of The Namesake, years ago when I read it, I can give it another try anytime soon, with this confession that I have now somehow, developed the patience and a kind of forbearance, of venturing into the realms of those stories, which were never my cup of tea a few years back.
Comparing to that I liked this story more because of its range and prevalence not only in terms of space and time but also in terms of the sweep, it has produced within and outside of those relationships, which you carried forward to the next generations of your characters.
You began your story of two brothers Subhash and Udayan, who had never set the foot in the Tolly Club, like most people in the vicinity, they had passed by its wooden gate, it's brick walls hundreds of times.
鈥淪ubhash brought his hands together. He felt the weight of his brother鈥榮 foot, the worn sole of his sandal, then his whole body, bearing down for an instant. Quickly Udayan hoisted himself up. He straddled the wall.鈥�
One of them later applies for a Ph.D. in the US and the other one gets affected by the early Naxalite movement of the late 1960s emanating and gaining ground from the Naxalbari region.
鈥淯dayan quoted what the Chinese press had predicted: the spark in Darjeeling will start a prairie fire and will certainly set the vast expanses of India ablaze.鈥�
There are repulsive characters in your novel. There is infatuation. Atonement is there. There are interlinking tragedies, painful events and their life-long impressions going from one generation to others in your story and then there is your engrossing way of writing the minute details of immigrant lives. I loved it.
But I have two issues once again, first, your prose became quite expository in the midway where I lost interest in the plot and second I felt no emotional connect with the characters, at many places, where I was expecting some emotional dialogues, some feelings and sentiments enfolding your characters. You just moved the story ahead with the single, flat and short line, making it a kind of cerebral progression in the story. That is probably your style; I disfavored it at those points.
While analyzing this, I am very much sure that you鈥檒l be a better short story writer than a novelist, though I am yet to go through your short fictional work. This is just my assumption so far!
However, the final one-third part of your story aroused some of those out of sight sentiments; I was missing since the beginning. The character of Bela and then redemption of Gauri made this book a pleasing reading experience for me.
Overall I would appreciate your daunting effort of painting the Bengali culture with US-style realistic living in the backcloth of historical Naxalite movement. I would call it a representative fiction, where you have represented multiple motifs through your characters. Repercussions of Tollygunge, built on the reclaimed land on the Bay of Bengal, in the lives of people of Rhode Island in America and reverberations of tragedies associated with Udayan鈥檚 engagement with Naxalism within the lives of this generation and the next generation have been envisioned by you wonderfully.
Thanks!
February 18, 2016
Not all women should be mothers. Not all mothers love their children. This should be written about more. Also, not everyone gets wiser as they get older and 鈥渢ime heals all wounds鈥� is bullshit.
These are some of the themes of The Lowland.
What I鈥檝e noticed about both Lahiri novels I鈥檝e read is that she is a master at writing about complete down-to-the-bone aloneness. There鈥檚 that (clich茅d) lonely-disorientated immigrant experience that I relate to, but she also takes it further to a place that鈥檚 hard to explain to those that haven鈥檛 left their home country. The isolation you feel in your new country merged with the estrangement you feel from your birth country, discarded by your people as a 鈥榮tranger鈥�, and it鈥檚 all twisted up inside because you did it to yourself. You left. Husbands get left, children get left, families and memories get left. All that remains, it seems, is guilt.
With her own hand she'd painted herself into a corner, and then out of the picture altogether.
Are you supposed to feel a connection with people because you鈥檙e related to them? Because they gave birth to you, or raised you, or lived in the same house with you for years? Is there something wrong with you if you feel nothing for them? Is this common and unspoken, or are you an anomaly?
They were a family of solitaries. They had collided and dispersed.
While reading The Lowland I kept thinking that I didn鈥檛 like it as much as The Namesake, that it wasn鈥檛 as good. Maybe that鈥檚 true. But I had the same raw emotional reaction to both books and that counts for a lot with me.
These are some of the themes of The Lowland.
What I鈥檝e noticed about both Lahiri novels I鈥檝e read is that she is a master at writing about complete down-to-the-bone aloneness. There鈥檚 that (clich茅d) lonely-disorientated immigrant experience that I relate to, but she also takes it further to a place that鈥檚 hard to explain to those that haven鈥檛 left their home country. The isolation you feel in your new country merged with the estrangement you feel from your birth country, discarded by your people as a 鈥榮tranger鈥�, and it鈥檚 all twisted up inside because you did it to yourself. You left. Husbands get left, children get left, families and memories get left. All that remains, it seems, is guilt.
With her own hand she'd painted herself into a corner, and then out of the picture altogether.
Are you supposed to feel a connection with people because you鈥檙e related to them? Because they gave birth to you, or raised you, or lived in the same house with you for years? Is there something wrong with you if you feel nothing for them? Is this common and unspoken, or are you an anomaly?
They were a family of solitaries. They had collided and dispersed.
While reading The Lowland I kept thinking that I didn鈥檛 like it as much as The Namesake, that it wasn鈥檛 as good. Maybe that鈥檚 true. But I had the same raw emotional reaction to both books and that counts for a lot with me.
November 22, 2024
禺丕賳賲 噩賵賲倬丕 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖 丿乇 讴鬲丕亘 诏賵丿蹖 貙 亘丕 丕爻鬲丕丿蹖 賵 賲賴丕乇鬲 賵 亘丕 亘蹖丕賳蹖 卮蹖賵丕 賵 乇賵丕賳 夭賳丿诏蹖 趩賴丕乇 賳爻賱 丕夭 蹖讴 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 賴賳丿蹖 丕夭 讴賱讴鬲賴 賵 亘賳诏丕賱 鬲丕 乇賵丿丕蹖賱賳丿 乇丕 亘賴 鬲氐賵蹖乇 讴卮蹖丿賴 貙 禺丕賳賲 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖 丿乇 丕蹖賳 丕孬乇 賮乇丕賲賵卮 賳卮丿賳蹖 亘賴 丿賳亘丕賱 賯賴乇賲丕賳 賳亘賵丿賴 貙 卮禺氐蹖鬲賴丕蹖 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 蹖丕 賯賴乇賲丕賳丕賳 丕賵 丕賮乇丕丿 毓丕丿蹖 丕夭 丿賱 噩丕賲毓賴 賴賳丿賵爻鬲丕賳 賴爻鬲賳丿 貙 讴爻丕賳蹖 讴賴 丕诏乇 趩賴 丿乇 賵賴賱賴 賳禺爻鬲 亘乇丕蹖 亘賯丕 禺賵丿 賲蹖 噩賳诏賳丿 丕賲丕 亘丕 賵噩賵丿 賮卮丕乇賴丕蹖 爻禺鬲 賵 胤丕賯鬲 賮乇爻丕 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 貙 噩丕賲毓賴 貙 爻賳鬲 賴乇诏丕賴 讴賴 亘鬲賵丕賳賳丿 亘丕 卮乇丕蹖胤 賲亘丕乇夭賴 讴乇丿賴 賵 賳賴 鬲賳賴丕 丕賮爻丕乇 夭賳丿诏蹖 禺賵丿 乇丕 亘丿爻鬲 诏乇賮鬲賴 賵 乇賵 丿乇 乇賵蹖 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 賵 爻賳鬲 賲蹖 丕蹖爻鬲賳丿 貙 亘賱讴賴 丿乇 亘乇丕亘乇 噩丕賲毓賴 賵 丿賵賱鬲 賴賲 丿爻鬲 亘賴 卮賵乇卮 賲蹖 夭賳賳丿 .
賴賳乇 禺丕賳賲 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖 丿乇讴鬲丕亘 诏賵丿蹖 賯乇丕乇 丿丕丿賳 賲鬲賳丕賯囟 賴丕 讴賳丕乇 蹖讴丿蹖诏乇 亘賵丿賴 丕爻鬲 貙 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 賳蹖賲賴 爻賳鬲蹖 - 賳蹖賲賴 賲丿乇賳 丕爻鬲 貙 賮乇夭賳丿丕賳 蹖讴蹖 亘賴 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 乇賮鬲賴 賵 丿乇 賮乇賴賳诏 丌賳 匕賵亘 賲蹖 卮賵丿 賵 丿蹖诏乇蹖 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 乇丕 賲馗賴乇 丕爻鬲毓賲丕乇 賵 讴丕倬蹖鬲丕賱蹖爻賲 賲蹖 丿丕賳丿 賵 亘丕 丌賳 賲亘丕乇夭賴 賲蹖 讴賳丿 .禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 讴賴 丿乇 卮乇賯 賳賲丕丿蹖 丕夭 賲丨亘鬲 賵 孬亘丕鬲 丕爻鬲 貙 丿乇 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 丕賵 亘賴 賲丕賳賳丿 賴賲夭蹖爻鬲蹖 丕夭 乇賵蹖 丕噩亘丕乇 丿乇 賴賳丿 賵 噩丿丕蹖蹖 賵 亘蹖 亘賳丿 賵 亘丕乇蹖 丿乇 丌賲乇蹖讴丕爻鬲 .
禺丕賳賲 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 賳诏丕賴蹖 讴賵鬲丕賴 賴賲 亘賴 鬲丕乇蹖禺 賴賳丿 賵 丕蹖噩丕丿 噩賳亘卮 賲爻賱丨丕賳賴 賳丕讴爻丕賱蹖鬲 賴丕 丿乇 夭賲丕賳 丕蹖賳丿蹖乇丕 诏丕賳丿蹖 丿丕卮鬲賴 貙 丿乇 丨賯蹖賯鬲 丕孬乇蹖 讴賴 丕蹖賳 噩賳亘卮 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 貙 賮乇夭賳丿丕賳 丌賳賴丕 賲蹖 诏匕丕乇丿 亘賴 賯丿乇蹖 夭蹖丕丿 亘賵丿賴 讴賴 诏匕卮鬲賴 貙 丨丕賱 賵 丌蹖賳丿賴 丌賳賴丕 乇丕 賴賲乇丕賴 亘丕 賲蹖賱賵賳賴丕 賴賳丿蹖 丿蹖诏乇 乇賯賲 夭丿賴 丕爻鬲 .
禺丕賳賲 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 賴丕蹖蹖 亘丿賵賳 亘賳蹖丕賳 乇丕 亘賴 鬲氐賵蹖乇 讴卮蹖丿賴 貙 趩賴 丿乇 賴賳丿 蹖丕 趩賴 丿乇 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 . 丿乇 賴賳丿 亘丕 賵噩賵丿 賲丨丿賵丿蹖鬲 賵 爻賳鬲 丕賮乇丕丿 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 丕夭 乇賵蹖 丕噩亘丕乇 讴賳丕乇 賴賲 噩賲毓 賲蹖 卮賵賳丿 貙 丕賲丕 丿乇 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 讴賴 丕噩亘丕乇蹖 賳蹖爻鬲 貙 賴乇 讴爻蹖 亘賴 乇丕賴 禺賵丿 賲蹖 乇賵丿 .
賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 賳诏丕賴蹖 賲賳賮蹖 亘賴 夭丕丿诏丕賴 賵 讴卮賵乇 禺賵丿 丿丕乇丿 貙 丕賵 賴乇 夭賲丕賳 讴賴 亘賴 讴賱讴鬲賴 亘丕夭 賲蹖 诏乇丿丿 丕夭 鬲毓賮賳 賵 卮賱賵睾蹖 爻禺賳 亘賴 賲蹖丕賳 賲蹖 丌賵乇丿 貙 乇賮鬲丕乇 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 賴賳丿蹖 賴賲 亘丕 毓乇賵爻 禺賵丿 丿賵乇 丕夭 鬲賲丿賳 賵 賵丨卮蹖丕賳賴 丕爻鬲 貙 丕賲丕 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 丕賵 賴賳诏丕賲蹖 讴賴 亘賴 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 賲蹖 乇爻丿 乇賳诏 賵 亘賵蹖 丿蹖诏乇蹖 賲蹖 诏蹖乇丿 貙 禺亘乇蹖 丕夭 讴孬蹖賮蹖 賵 鬲亘毓蹖囟 賳蹖爻鬲 貙 丌賳丕賳 亘賴 乇丕丨鬲蹖 丕夭 爻賵蹖 丌賲乇蹖讴丕蹖蹖賴丕 倬匕蹖乇賮鬲賴 賲蹖 卮賵賳丿 貙 亘賴 丌爻丕賳蹖 丿乇爻 賲蹖 禺賵丕賳賳丿 賵 倬蹖卮乇賮鬲 賲蹖 讴賳賳丿 貙 诏賵乇蹖 卮禺氐蹖鬲 趩丕賱卮蹖 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 貙 丿乇 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 亘賴 丕蹖賳 賳鬲蹖噩賴 賲蹖 乇爻丿 讴賴 丿蹖诏乇 4 賲鬲乇 倬丕乇趩賴 亘賴 丿賵乇 禺賵丿 賳倬蹖趩丿 賵 賲孬賱 丿蹖诏乇 夭賳丕賳 卮賵丿 貙 丕賵 賲賵賴丕蹖 禺賵丿 乇丕 讴賵鬲丕賴 賲蹖 讴賳丿 賵 亘賴 爻亘讴 夭賳丕賳 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 賱亘丕爻 賲蹖 倬賵卮丿.
禺丕賳賲 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖 卮禺蹖氐鬲賴丕蹖 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 乇丕 亘賴 诏賵賳賴 丕蹖 亘丕賵乇 賳讴乇丿賳蹖 丿乇 賮乇賴賳诏 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 匕賵亘 讴乇丿賴 貙 亘蹖 亘賳丿 賵 亘丕乇蹖 賵 丌夭丕丿蹖 噩賳爻蹖 貙 讴賴 丕賱亘鬲賴 诏賵乇蹖 賵 丿禺鬲乇卮 丿乇 丕蹖賳 丕賲乇 倬蹖卮鬲丕夭 賴爻鬲賳丿 貙爻亘讴 夭賳丿诏蹖 丕蹖賳 丿賵 丿蹖诏乇亘蹖卮 丕夭 丕賳丿丕夭賴 丌賲乇蹖讴丕蹖蹖 亘賴 賳馗乇 賲蹖 乇爻丿 .
禺丕賳賲 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖 丿乇 鬲賵氐蹖賮 丨丿丕賯賱 賳爻賱 丕賵賱 蹖讴 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 賴賳丿蹖 賲賴丕噩乇 賳爻亘鬲丕 賲賵賮賯 亘賵丿賴 丕爻鬲 貙 賴賳乇 丕賵 丿乇 讴鬲丕亘 诏賵丿蹖 丌賮乇蹖丿賳 卮禺氐蹖鬲賴丕蹖蹖 趩賳丿 亘購毓丿蹖 丕蹖爻鬲 貙 丕賮乇丕丿蹖 讴賴 丿乇丿丕賳卮诏丕賴 賵 讴丕乇 賲賵賮賯 亘賵丿賴 丕賲丕 鬲賵丕賳丕蹖蹖 丕蹖噩丕丿 乇丕亘胤賴 亘丕 賴賲 賳丿丕乇賳丿 .
卮丕蹖丿 亘鬲賵丕賳 诏賮鬲 賳馗乇 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 丿乇 倬丕蹖丕賳 讴鬲丕亘 亘賴 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 賵 賳賯卮 丌賳 亘乇诏卮鬲賴 貙 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 讴賴 丕賮乇丕丿 丕夭 丌賳 诏乇蹖夭丕賳 亘賵丿賴 丕賳丿 丿乇 倬丕蹖丕賳 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 亘丕夭 亘賴 賲丕賳賳丿 賲讴丕賳蹖 丕蹖爻鬲 讴賴 賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳 亘賴 丌賳 倬賳丕賴 丌賵乇丿 貙 亘丕 讴賲讴 丌賳 丕夭胤賵賮丕賳 丨賵丕丿孬 夭賳丿诏蹖 噩丕賳 亘賴 爻賱丕賲鬲 亘乇丿 賵 丨鬲蹖 賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳 亘賴 丌賳 賵賮丕丿丕乇 亘賵丿 .
丿乇 倬丕蹖丕賳 讴鬲丕亘 诏賵丿蹖 貙 亘丕 賵噩賵丿 倬丕乇賴 丕蹖 丕夭 賳賵丕賯氐 賵 賳诏丕賴 睾丕賱亘 睾乇亘 诏乇丕蹖丕賳賴 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 貙 丕孬乇蹖 丕蹖爻鬲 禺賵丕賳丿賳蹖 讴賴 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 乇丕 亘丕 亘禺卮 讴賵趩讴蹖 丕夭 賮乇賴賳诏 貙 卮蹖賵賴 夭賳丿诏蹖 賲賱鬲 賴賳丿 賵 賲賴丕噩乇丕賳 賴賳丿蹖 丌卮賳丕 賲蹖 讴賳丿 .
賴賳乇 禺丕賳賲 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖 丿乇讴鬲丕亘 诏賵丿蹖 賯乇丕乇 丿丕丿賳 賲鬲賳丕賯囟 賴丕 讴賳丕乇 蹖讴丿蹖诏乇 亘賵丿賴 丕爻鬲 貙 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 賳蹖賲賴 爻賳鬲蹖 - 賳蹖賲賴 賲丿乇賳 丕爻鬲 貙 賮乇夭賳丿丕賳 蹖讴蹖 亘賴 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 乇賮鬲賴 賵 丿乇 賮乇賴賳诏 丌賳 匕賵亘 賲蹖 卮賵丿 賵 丿蹖诏乇蹖 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 乇丕 賲馗賴乇 丕爻鬲毓賲丕乇 賵 讴丕倬蹖鬲丕賱蹖爻賲 賲蹖 丿丕賳丿 賵 亘丕 丌賳 賲亘丕乇夭賴 賲蹖 讴賳丿 .禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 讴賴 丿乇 卮乇賯 賳賲丕丿蹖 丕夭 賲丨亘鬲 賵 孬亘丕鬲 丕爻鬲 貙 丿乇 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 丕賵 亘賴 賲丕賳賳丿 賴賲夭蹖爻鬲蹖 丕夭 乇賵蹖 丕噩亘丕乇 丿乇 賴賳丿 賵 噩丿丕蹖蹖 賵 亘蹖 亘賳丿 賵 亘丕乇蹖 丿乇 丌賲乇蹖讴丕爻鬲 .
禺丕賳賲 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 賳诏丕賴蹖 讴賵鬲丕賴 賴賲 亘賴 鬲丕乇蹖禺 賴賳丿 賵 丕蹖噩丕丿 噩賳亘卮 賲爻賱丨丕賳賴 賳丕讴爻丕賱蹖鬲 賴丕 丿乇 夭賲丕賳 丕蹖賳丿蹖乇丕 诏丕賳丿蹖 丿丕卮鬲賴 貙 丿乇 丨賯蹖賯鬲 丕孬乇蹖 讴賴 丕蹖賳 噩賳亘卮 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 貙 賮乇夭賳丿丕賳 丌賳賴丕 賲蹖 诏匕丕乇丿 亘賴 賯丿乇蹖 夭蹖丕丿 亘賵丿賴 讴賴 诏匕卮鬲賴 貙 丨丕賱 賵 丌蹖賳丿賴 丌賳賴丕 乇丕 賴賲乇丕賴 亘丕 賲蹖賱賵賳賴丕 賴賳丿蹖 丿蹖诏乇 乇賯賲 夭丿賴 丕爻鬲 .
禺丕賳賲 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 賴丕蹖蹖 亘丿賵賳 亘賳蹖丕賳 乇丕 亘賴 鬲氐賵蹖乇 讴卮蹖丿賴 貙 趩賴 丿乇 賴賳丿 蹖丕 趩賴 丿乇 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 . 丿乇 賴賳丿 亘丕 賵噩賵丿 賲丨丿賵丿蹖鬲 賵 爻賳鬲 丕賮乇丕丿 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 丕夭 乇賵蹖 丕噩亘丕乇 讴賳丕乇 賴賲 噩賲毓 賲蹖 卮賵賳丿 貙 丕賲丕 丿乇 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 讴賴 丕噩亘丕乇蹖 賳蹖爻鬲 貙 賴乇 讴爻蹖 亘賴 乇丕賴 禺賵丿 賲蹖 乇賵丿 .
賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 賳诏丕賴蹖 賲賳賮蹖 亘賴 夭丕丿诏丕賴 賵 讴卮賵乇 禺賵丿 丿丕乇丿 貙 丕賵 賴乇 夭賲丕賳 讴賴 亘賴 讴賱讴鬲賴 亘丕夭 賲蹖 诏乇丿丿 丕夭 鬲毓賮賳 賵 卮賱賵睾蹖 爻禺賳 亘賴 賲蹖丕賳 賲蹖 丌賵乇丿 貙 乇賮鬲丕乇 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 賴賳丿蹖 賴賲 亘丕 毓乇賵爻 禺賵丿 丿賵乇 丕夭 鬲賲丿賳 賵 賵丨卮蹖丕賳賴 丕爻鬲 貙 丕賲丕 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 丕賵 賴賳诏丕賲蹖 讴賴 亘賴 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 賲蹖 乇爻丿 乇賳诏 賵 亘賵蹖 丿蹖诏乇蹖 賲蹖 诏蹖乇丿 貙 禺亘乇蹖 丕夭 讴孬蹖賮蹖 賵 鬲亘毓蹖囟 賳蹖爻鬲 貙 丌賳丕賳 亘賴 乇丕丨鬲蹖 丕夭 爻賵蹖 丌賲乇蹖讴丕蹖蹖賴丕 倬匕蹖乇賮鬲賴 賲蹖 卮賵賳丿 貙 亘賴 丌爻丕賳蹖 丿乇爻 賲蹖 禺賵丕賳賳丿 賵 倬蹖卮乇賮鬲 賲蹖 讴賳賳丿 貙 诏賵乇蹖 卮禺氐蹖鬲 趩丕賱卮蹖 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 貙 丿乇 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 亘賴 丕蹖賳 賳鬲蹖噩賴 賲蹖 乇爻丿 讴賴 丿蹖诏乇 4 賲鬲乇 倬丕乇趩賴 亘賴 丿賵乇 禺賵丿 賳倬蹖趩丿 賵 賲孬賱 丿蹖诏乇 夭賳丕賳 卮賵丿 貙 丕賵 賲賵賴丕蹖 禺賵丿 乇丕 讴賵鬲丕賴 賲蹖 讴賳丿 賵 亘賴 爻亘讴 夭賳丕賳 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 賱亘丕爻 賲蹖 倬賵卮丿.
禺丕賳賲 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖 卮禺蹖氐鬲賴丕蹖 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 乇丕 亘賴 诏賵賳賴 丕蹖 亘丕賵乇 賳讴乇丿賳蹖 丿乇 賮乇賴賳诏 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 匕賵亘 讴乇丿賴 貙 亘蹖 亘賳丿 賵 亘丕乇蹖 賵 丌夭丕丿蹖 噩賳爻蹖 貙 讴賴 丕賱亘鬲賴 诏賵乇蹖 賵 丿禺鬲乇卮 丿乇 丕蹖賳 丕賲乇 倬蹖卮鬲丕夭 賴爻鬲賳丿 貙爻亘讴 夭賳丿诏蹖 丕蹖賳 丿賵 丿蹖诏乇亘蹖卮 丕夭 丕賳丿丕夭賴 丌賲乇蹖讴丕蹖蹖 亘賴 賳馗乇 賲蹖 乇爻丿 .
禺丕賳賲 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖 丿乇 鬲賵氐蹖賮 丨丿丕賯賱 賳爻賱 丕賵賱 蹖讴 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 賴賳丿蹖 賲賴丕噩乇 賳爻亘鬲丕 賲賵賮賯 亘賵丿賴 丕爻鬲 貙 賴賳乇 丕賵 丿乇 讴鬲丕亘 诏賵丿蹖 丌賮乇蹖丿賳 卮禺氐蹖鬲賴丕蹖蹖 趩賳丿 亘購毓丿蹖 丕蹖爻鬲 貙 丕賮乇丕丿蹖 讴賴 丿乇丿丕賳卮诏丕賴 賵 讴丕乇 賲賵賮賯 亘賵丿賴 丕賲丕 鬲賵丕賳丕蹖蹖 丕蹖噩丕丿 乇丕亘胤賴 亘丕 賴賲 賳丿丕乇賳丿 .
卮丕蹖丿 亘鬲賵丕賳 诏賮鬲 賳馗乇 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 丿乇 倬丕蹖丕賳 讴鬲丕亘 亘賴 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 賵 賳賯卮 丌賳 亘乇诏卮鬲賴 貙 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 讴賴 丕賮乇丕丿 丕夭 丌賳 诏乇蹖夭丕賳 亘賵丿賴 丕賳丿 丿乇 倬丕蹖丕賳 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 亘丕夭 亘賴 賲丕賳賳丿 賲讴丕賳蹖 丕蹖爻鬲 讴賴 賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳 亘賴 丌賳 倬賳丕賴 丌賵乇丿 貙 亘丕 讴賲讴 丌賳 丕夭胤賵賮丕賳 丨賵丕丿孬 夭賳丿诏蹖 噩丕賳 亘賴 爻賱丕賲鬲 亘乇丿 賵 丨鬲蹖 賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳 亘賴 丌賳 賵賮丕丿丕乇 亘賵丿 .
丿乇 倬丕蹖丕賳 讴鬲丕亘 诏賵丿蹖 貙 亘丕 賵噩賵丿 倬丕乇賴 丕蹖 丕夭 賳賵丕賯氐 賵 賳诏丕賴 睾丕賱亘 睾乇亘 诏乇丕蹖丕賳賴 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 貙 丕孬乇蹖 丕蹖爻鬲 禺賵丕賳丿賳蹖 讴賴 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 乇丕 亘丕 亘禺卮 讴賵趩讴蹖 丕夭 賮乇賴賳诏 貙 卮蹖賵賴 夭賳丿诏蹖 賲賱鬲 賴賳丿 賵 賲賴丕噩乇丕賳 賴賳丿蹖 丌卮賳丕 賲蹖 讴賳丿 .
April 15, 2021
鈥淣o puedo ser padre鈥� despu茅s de lo que hecho.鈥�Hay novelas que consiguen cabrearme, como las que me gustan, o me gustar铆an, a pesar de lo alejado que estoy de aquello que defienden, o las que estropean una maravillosa trama con un final indigno, o las que me defraudan de mala manera en mis altas expectativas. En el polo opuesto est谩n las que me dan pena. Son las que pienso que deber铆an gustarme, que poseen la calidad suficiente para ello, con las que estoy de acuerdo con su fondo y que, sin embargo, no alcanzan a pellizcarme ni un poquito. Esta es una de ellas.
Bien es verdad que toda la primera mitad de la novela, unas doscientas p谩ginas, me ha parecido una largu铆sima introducci贸n al relato, por muy interesante que fuera todo lo relacionado con el movimiento naxalita y la fundaci贸n del Partido Comunista de la India, la diferente actitud de los dos hermanos ante las injusticias, ante los m茅todos para combatirlas, ante la fe en poder hacerlo. Pero es el conflicto familiar y los sentimientos filiales, el compromiso, la responsabilidad, la culpa, la trascendencia de nuestros actos, todo lo que surge tras el hecho tr谩gico que sucede en la hondonada, el verdadero meollo de la novela.
鈥淟o hab铆a hecho, hab铆a hecho lo peor que pod铆a imaginar que pudiera hacer.鈥�Un relato sencillo en su forma y complejo y, a veces, desconcertante en su fondo, sin lirismo ni grandes frases, levantado con sensibilidad e inteligencia sobre fuertes personajes femeninos y una interesante historia, pero que, pese a los buenos ingredientes, algo falla en la receta o en la cocinera o, no descarto nada, en el comensal que esto les cuenta.
October 29, 2013
Like her other books, this is beautifully written. Unfortunately, I really didn't like any of the characters, and the narrative was so bland and impersonal this might've easily been a non-fiction history of the factions of Indian politics in the last quarter of the 20th century. The story (if it can be called that) is ambiguous, the characters do not relate to each other in ways I recognize or that seem authentic- very unnatural, stilted and hard to believe. I guess what was most puzzling here for me reading this after having enjoyed her other work SO much was the lack of depth.
The story is this: 2 brothers grow up in India in the 60s; while they are very close they take very different paths. One becomes involved in a fringe communist protest group & one leaves India to pursue graduate school in the US. (OK that's what most of her books have in common) The political brother becomes more entangled in terrorist type protests and along the way marries the sister of one of his comrades. SPOILER They are together only a short time before he is killed by the Indian police after they discover that he participated in the murder of a police officer. When the brother in America returns to India for his funeral, he discovers that his parents are inhospitable to his brother's pregnant widow; so he nobly marries her and takes her to the US to have the child and raise it as his own. What follows is essentially 40 years of nothing...she has the baby but leaves when the child is 11 or 12 to finish her own studies and then become a professor. Both of the parents seem to waft through their lives with little or no attachment to any of the generally accepted social structures or norms- meaning that they work and that's it. There are no other characters no other complications, no conflicts at all. Their daughter grows up to become an itinerant migrant farm worker going from place to place picking fruit and living her own wackadoodle but boring life until she becomes pregnant by some man passing through her life (no attention or discussion or plot interest even here because he is treated as a sperm donor). Then she moves back with her 60 something year old father and that's about it.
Sorry, I love her other books, but this one is utterly uncompelling. Boring, bland, dry, artificial stilted characters whose experiences bear no relationship to real life, and the entire book has no resonance or depth. Almost insipid, but there isn't even enough going on to be that. Plain oatmeal I guess.
The story is this: 2 brothers grow up in India in the 60s; while they are very close they take very different paths. One becomes involved in a fringe communist protest group & one leaves India to pursue graduate school in the US. (OK that's what most of her books have in common) The political brother becomes more entangled in terrorist type protests and along the way marries the sister of one of his comrades. SPOILER They are together only a short time before he is killed by the Indian police after they discover that he participated in the murder of a police officer. When the brother in America returns to India for his funeral, he discovers that his parents are inhospitable to his brother's pregnant widow; so he nobly marries her and takes her to the US to have the child and raise it as his own. What follows is essentially 40 years of nothing...she has the baby but leaves when the child is 11 or 12 to finish her own studies and then become a professor. Both of the parents seem to waft through their lives with little or no attachment to any of the generally accepted social structures or norms- meaning that they work and that's it. There are no other characters no other complications, no conflicts at all. Their daughter grows up to become an itinerant migrant farm worker going from place to place picking fruit and living her own wackadoodle but boring life until she becomes pregnant by some man passing through her life (no attention or discussion or plot interest even here because he is treated as a sperm donor). Then she moves back with her 60 something year old father and that's about it.
Sorry, I love her other books, but this one is utterly uncompelling. Boring, bland, dry, artificial stilted characters whose experiences bear no relationship to real life, and the entire book has no resonance or depth. Almost insipid, but there isn't even enough going on to be that. Plain oatmeal I guess.
September 30, 2013
Two brothers, born fifteen months apart in Calcutta, India, inseparable until the 1960's when they are both in their mid twenties and their interests begin to diverge. Udayar becomes a follower of Mao's revolutionary politics and joins the Naxalite movement. Which I had to look up on the all knowing wiki. Subhash goes to America to continue his studies.
As I was reading this I felt as if the first half was like an outline, just the bare bones of the characters personalities were being revealed. Much of the political situation was more detailed. In the second half this changed and all the little touches, the observations of place, people and time that Lahiri's prose is noted for, came alive.
This is a story of regret, of mistakes made, how one person, alive and dead could effect so many for so long. It is about being unable to forgive oneself and living a life of penance and atonement. Their is some wonderful prose here, some very visual observations about the price of violence and revolution. At times I did feel that Lahiri was portraying her characters at a remove, an almost emotionless narrative of their lives. By the time I finished this book I realized just how well her technique worked because I felt that I knew them and understood them very well. It was just so gradual that until the end I could not put it together.
If the reader is patient with this novel, I believe many will feel the same way.
As I was reading this I felt as if the first half was like an outline, just the bare bones of the characters personalities were being revealed. Much of the political situation was more detailed. In the second half this changed and all the little touches, the observations of place, people and time that Lahiri's prose is noted for, came alive.
This is a story of regret, of mistakes made, how one person, alive and dead could effect so many for so long. It is about being unable to forgive oneself and living a life of penance and atonement. Their is some wonderful prose here, some very visual observations about the price of violence and revolution. At times I did feel that Lahiri was portraying her characters at a remove, an almost emotionless narrative of their lives. By the time I finished this book I realized just how well her technique worked because I felt that I knew them and understood them very well. It was just so gradual that until the end I could not put it together.
If the reader is patient with this novel, I believe many will feel the same way.
September 26, 2013
Jhumpa Lahiri is gifted with the ability to write beautifully. You read some books for the plot, and others for the sheer love of language. While "The Lowland" satisfied me plot-wise, it was Jhumpa Lahiri's language that blew me away once again. Something I really appreciated about the book was Jhumpa Lahiri's objective take on the political movement that forms the impetus for every plot line in the book. Lahiri stays away from the tempting trap of making a political point, and focuses instead on the effect the movement has on the handful of characters and their lives that form the heart of the book. While I did not strongly identify with any of the characters like I did with "The Namesake," I still found that the story drew me in by being both familiar and foreign at the same time. Every time I thought I had finally figured a character out, they would surprise me. This is a must-read for anyone who loved Jhumpa Lahiri's previous books!
Oh, and I now feel compelled to visit Rhode Island. Lahiri makes it sound absolutely idyllic.
Oh, and I now feel compelled to visit Rhode Island. Lahiri makes it sound absolutely idyllic.
December 18, 2015
"Interpreter of Maladies" (Pulitzer winner), "Unaccustomed Earth", and novel
"The Namesake" we're each so terrific, ... it would be hard for me to choose which of the three I liked better: yet if I 'had' to choose it would be "Unaccustomed Earth" as first favorite.
Each of the books were about relationships - multiple challenges-
and struggles as immigrant families adjust to American Cultural and social norms. Always insightful.... and ALWAYS filled with emotional attachment.
And.. In her two books which are short stories, Lahiri's writing style of weaving stories
together is so realistic - we feel the heartbeat and are deeply emotionally engaged
hanging on to every word she writes. She's a master storyteller.
Yet, in "Lowland", ...although still beautiful writing, I didn't feel the same ..."hanging on-by-a-tread" emotion with this novel. The characters felt somewhat distant - right from the start. I warmed up to the brothers in time....but it took time. I was feeling
more intimacy with the environment --- the descriptions of Calcutta... and later
Rhode Island, than I was with the characters.
At times this story ( about two brothers ...with a woman that touches both of their lives)...reminded me of Abraham Verghese's novel, "Cutting For Stone".
In both novels one brother comes to the United States to study and further themselves ...
In both novels there are great differences between the brothers ..,yet, in this story...I just didn't feel the overall magic - like I did in "Cutting For Stone", or Lahiri's previous books.
I 'do' love this author ... but if you've never read Lahiri before...my vote would be for her previous books first! I absolutely 'love'. all of her other books!!! This was good.. but not 'as' good ....(for me).
3.5 stars
"The Namesake" we're each so terrific, ... it would be hard for me to choose which of the three I liked better: yet if I 'had' to choose it would be "Unaccustomed Earth" as first favorite.
Each of the books were about relationships - multiple challenges-
and struggles as immigrant families adjust to American Cultural and social norms. Always insightful.... and ALWAYS filled with emotional attachment.
And.. In her two books which are short stories, Lahiri's writing style of weaving stories
together is so realistic - we feel the heartbeat and are deeply emotionally engaged
hanging on to every word she writes. She's a master storyteller.
Yet, in "Lowland", ...although still beautiful writing, I didn't feel the same ..."hanging on-by-a-tread" emotion with this novel. The characters felt somewhat distant - right from the start. I warmed up to the brothers in time....but it took time. I was feeling
more intimacy with the environment --- the descriptions of Calcutta... and later
Rhode Island, than I was with the characters.
At times this story ( about two brothers ...with a woman that touches both of their lives)...reminded me of Abraham Verghese's novel, "Cutting For Stone".
In both novels one brother comes to the United States to study and further themselves ...
In both novels there are great differences between the brothers ..,yet, in this story...I just didn't feel the overall magic - like I did in "Cutting For Stone", or Lahiri's previous books.
I 'do' love this author ... but if you've never read Lahiri before...my vote would be for her previous books first! I absolutely 'love'. all of her other books!!! This was good.. but not 'as' good ....(for me).
3.5 stars
July 26, 2016
2.5 stars
Jumpa Lahiri has failed me. I remember loving The Namesake. I read an excerpt of it in The New Yorker and couldn't wait to read the complete novel. But The Lowland, while layered and complex, requires way too much STUDY. This is not an enjoyable book. I found myself bored and restless time and time again. Even at 50 percent in, I was muddling in murky waters.
This book is about the history of India, lots of politics, upheaval, warring parties, etc. I don't adore political history anyway and know very little about Indian history. Generally, historical novel have a way of seeping you in history through plot and characters, but in this book, the characters take second stage to the history. This read more like a dissertation than a work of fiction. There is very little dialogue, and what little there is is served via stream of consciousness without quotation marks (a trend I ABHOR! It's lazy, saving the author time in writing realistic dialogue vs. an approximation of it, and distances the reader from the characters).
The book was slow and reticent, purposely hazy. The two brothers, close in age, are very different (one, angry, restless, protesting corruption, but also selfish, impulsive; the other, static, taking the easier road, detached, settled in his own loneliness), and they remain different, but they don't change or learn or grow or develop as human beings, and their motivations for doing anything feel thrice-removed. There's much mundane detail about day-to-day lives (driving through town, eating dinner) that adds nothing to the story.
Perhaps Lahiri is simply riding on the coat tales of fame? This novel has been incredibly overpraised. The writing was overwrought and overly flowery; the characters dull; and the plot begged, "Ok, so what?" There are THEMES, certainly, and, as an English prof, I'm all for themes, but themes are only threads - what about the pages?
Jumpa Lahiri has failed me. I remember loving The Namesake. I read an excerpt of it in The New Yorker and couldn't wait to read the complete novel. But The Lowland, while layered and complex, requires way too much STUDY. This is not an enjoyable book. I found myself bored and restless time and time again. Even at 50 percent in, I was muddling in murky waters.
This book is about the history of India, lots of politics, upheaval, warring parties, etc. I don't adore political history anyway and know very little about Indian history. Generally, historical novel have a way of seeping you in history through plot and characters, but in this book, the characters take second stage to the history. This read more like a dissertation than a work of fiction. There is very little dialogue, and what little there is is served via stream of consciousness without quotation marks (a trend I ABHOR! It's lazy, saving the author time in writing realistic dialogue vs. an approximation of it, and distances the reader from the characters).
The book was slow and reticent, purposely hazy. The two brothers, close in age, are very different (one, angry, restless, protesting corruption, but also selfish, impulsive; the other, static, taking the easier road, detached, settled in his own loneliness), and they remain different, but they don't change or learn or grow or develop as human beings, and their motivations for doing anything feel thrice-removed. There's much mundane detail about day-to-day lives (driving through town, eating dinner) that adds nothing to the story.
Perhaps Lahiri is simply riding on the coat tales of fame? This novel has been incredibly overpraised. The writing was overwrought and overly flowery; the characters dull; and the plot begged, "Ok, so what?" There are THEMES, certainly, and, as an English prof, I'm all for themes, but themes are only threads - what about the pages?
September 3, 2021
丕賵賱卮 賲蹖禺賵丕爻鬲賲 亘诏賲 丕賵賴 毓噩亘 賮蹖賱賲 賴賳丿蹖鈥屫й岎煒佦屭� 賮蹖賱賲 賴賳丿蹖 鬲賲丕賲 毓蹖丕乇! 賵賱蹖 賲诏賴 賲蹖卮賴 丕夭 賯賱賲 亘蹖鈥屬嗀港屫� 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖 鬲毓乇蹖賮 賳讴乇丿貙 丕夭 丕蹖賳讴賴 鬲賵 乇賵 亘賴 毓賲賯 丕丨爻丕爻丕鬲 賵 毓賵丕胤賮 賵 丿睾丿睾賴鈥屬囏й� 鬲讴 鬲讴 卮禺氐蹖鬲鈥屬囏ж� 賲蹖鈥屫ㄘ辟�... 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 丿賵 亘乇丕丿乇 丕夭 蹖讴 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴鈥屰� 賴賳丿蹖 讴賴 賴乇 丿賵 賲爻蹖乇 賲鬲賮丕賵鬲蹖 乇丕 亘乇丕蹖 夭賳丿诏蹖 丿乇 倬蹖卮 诏乇賮鬲賴鈥屫з嗀�... 賵賱蹖 睾丕賮賱 丕夭 丕蹖賳讴賴 亘賱丕禺乇賴 賴賲蹖卮賴 夭賳丿诏蹖 趩蹖夭蹖 亘乇丕蹖 倬蹖賵賳丿 丿丕丿賳 賲蹖丕賳 丌丿賲鈥屬囏� 丿丕乇丿!
August 19, 2020
賲賳 毓丕卮賯 丕蹖賳 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 卮丿賲 亘丕蹖丿 亘賯蹖賴 蹖 丕孬丕乇卮賵 亘禺賵賳賲 丨蹖賮 讴賴 丕蹖賳賯丿乇 丿蹖乇 乇賮鬲賲 爻乇丕睾卮賵
February 18, 2017
I see Jhumpa Lahiri as kind of an old-fashioned novelist in the sense that she genuinely cares about things like character development, setting, and storytelling. She's not trying to impress you with how clever she is; she's not setting up some "twist" that's going to make you rethink everything that came before it. She's all about providing an immersive experience that earns all of its emotional high points and epiphanies. This is all to the good, in my opinion. I wish there were more writers out there who took their responsibility to their story as seriously as Lahiri does.
As for The Lowland specifically, I found its plotline much more intriguing than that of The Namesake, but it was somewhat less emotionally satisfying for me. Upon reflection, I think this is simply because The Namesake stayed in Gogol's head nearly the entire time, whereas The Lowland skipped around among Subhash, Gauri, and, to a lesser extent, a few other characters. After The Namesake I longed for a Lahiri novel from a female viewpoint, but sadly here I found the Gauri sections somewhat unsatisfying and mostly couldn't wait to get back to Subhash, the heart of the book. Still, I thought The Lowland was excellent overall and would definitely recommend it to fans of her other works, or fans of good fiction in general.
As for The Lowland specifically, I found its plotline much more intriguing than that of The Namesake, but it was somewhat less emotionally satisfying for me. Upon reflection, I think this is simply because The Namesake stayed in Gogol's head nearly the entire time, whereas The Lowland skipped around among Subhash, Gauri, and, to a lesser extent, a few other characters. After The Namesake I longed for a Lahiri novel from a female viewpoint, but sadly here I found the Gauri sections somewhat unsatisfying and mostly couldn't wait to get back to Subhash, the heart of the book. Still, I thought The Lowland was excellent overall and would definitely recommend it to fans of her other works, or fans of good fiction in general.
February 10, 2017
A bittersweet love story with the main focus being the bitterness of loss expressed over a life time and the consequences. I enjoyed the book overall but I was very disappointed in the ending. I feel that the ending fell very short of what it could have been. Anyways, this was a fantastic read with a lot of depth and emotion.
I hope to read more from this author in the future.
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I want to complete some lists on this site. I thought it would be a good challenge. Kind of like the summer reading lists from school except it's when I can do it and outside of reading the books I already own to take my personal library from just shy of a thousand to the essentials which are the books I reread a lot.
This reading list is the 2013 Man Booker Prize Longlist. Which is an official list for an official award that is serious and has to be earned. I thought it would be a great list to start off with as it is one put together by a nonuser of 欧宝娱乐, will most likely have books worth my time, and it is relatively short.
First book read in order to complete list:
/list/show/4...
I hope to read more from this author in the future.
----------------------------------------------------
I want to complete some lists on this site. I thought it would be a good challenge. Kind of like the summer reading lists from school except it's when I can do it and outside of reading the books I already own to take my personal library from just shy of a thousand to the essentials which are the books I reread a lot.
This reading list is the 2013 Man Booker Prize Longlist. Which is an official list for an official award that is serious and has to be earned. I thought it would be a great list to start off with as it is one put together by a nonuser of 欧宝娱乐, will most likely have books worth my time, and it is relatively short.
First book read in order to complete list:
/list/show/4...
March 23, 2014
This novel is a timeless story, beautifully written, with historical information. I鈥檓 a fan of historical fiction, and I鈥檓 very impressed that Lahiri is able to provide a storyline that jumps time. She gives equal measure to each time period, weaving a story of an Indian family who is affected by the Naxalite movement in the 1960s. Not only does this novel provide information on traditional Indian customs, the novel has a classic story of two brothers who chose different paths in the political unrest of India. One brother fights for the cause, while the other brother heads off to Rhode Island to pursue his education. He finds that no one in the USA even is aware of this conflict due to Indira Gandhi controlling the press. Plus, the US was engaged in the Vietnam war at the time. In spite of their differing political views, the family bond keeps them tight. Lahiri writes so well that she鈥檚 able to add the US politics of women coming into their time as workforce equals. There are so many layers to this fabulous book: family, duty, feminism, cultural, love, and history. I hadn鈥檛 heard of the Naxalite movement, and I was pleased to be educated by Lahiri. It鈥檚 a fascinating look at the Indian culture and the difficulties those who come to the US have in integrating into our society. A fantastic read.
November 1, 2013
A melancholic tale narrated with restraint and distance. Seeing how the tone was set in the beginning, I didn't expect to be drawn in to the story, wasn't sure what to expect.
But call her (Lahiri) the plot whisperer.
Here, time will fascinate you, moving abruptly, standing still, spanning generations and decades--yet still managing to stay organic to the plot. The plot and story have so many intricacies that it is time which directs it all.
Picture two young boys growing up in the 1960s amid the lowland of Calcutta, getting into mischief that suits boys their age. In the background, picture the remnants of the partition of India which led to the division of the Bengal province; picture the infamous Naxalite movement in India (communism; Maoist ideology, Marxist-Leninst politics). Picture one brother being headstrong and the other more conscientious. Picture yourself embracing their closeness at the beginning while also being uncomfortably aware of subtle hints from the third-person narrator that something is about to put a wedge between this brotherhood.
Now fast forward.
See them grow older; meet a bookish young wife who, even in the midst of conservative society, has feminist ideals and crude ambition.
See an obstinate and cruel mother-in-law.
See a marriage made in love and another conceived for convenience.
See the wetlands of a Calcutta neighborhood contrasted with the coast of Rhode Island.
See intellectualism battle civil unrest.
See the living suffer, watch the dead live.
See the ugliness of post traumatic stress disorder.
See one mother live with anguish, see another live with ambivalence.
See your skin crawl from a mother's abandonment.
See what it means to live a life of exile.
See what happens when people refuse to reconcile the past.
See the ghost who ruins.
See happiness intertwined with misery and agony.
See how people can be raised the same, yet lead different lives.
You read some books and through gestures, symbolism and impeccable details, they subtlety teach you things you never knew. This is one such book. Though stylistically different, parts of it reminded me of
This novel has the sophistication of a political novel. I hate to even do this comparison, but close your eyes, and you would think that it was a male author writing about male characters. Told from the third-person narrator point of view, the tone embodies the coping mechanism of the characters: stoicism--just what is needed to accompany a heartrending story without the melodramatics. At times the narration is so distant, it is as if only the storyteller is present (which, by the way, the storytelling here is stupendous). Then just at the right moment, the narration gets closer, so close that you and the character become one, you see their point of view clearly and you may not agree with them but you certainly 'get' them.
I love when I sense characters, when the plot doesn't stray but goes forward with such purpose that all I can do is follow to hear what happens next, learn what I'm supposed to learn. Love when I start to feel sorry for characters, wondering why they all end up so miserable, and then I learn that...wait...I'm wrong because in the end, they all don't end up in misery--though for some it is a long time coming.
But call her (Lahiri) the plot whisperer.
Here, time will fascinate you, moving abruptly, standing still, spanning generations and decades--yet still managing to stay organic to the plot. The plot and story have so many intricacies that it is time which directs it all.
Picture two young boys growing up in the 1960s amid the lowland of Calcutta, getting into mischief that suits boys their age. In the background, picture the remnants of the partition of India which led to the division of the Bengal province; picture the infamous Naxalite movement in India (communism; Maoist ideology, Marxist-Leninst politics). Picture one brother being headstrong and the other more conscientious. Picture yourself embracing their closeness at the beginning while also being uncomfortably aware of subtle hints from the third-person narrator that something is about to put a wedge between this brotherhood.
Now fast forward.
See them grow older; meet a bookish young wife who, even in the midst of conservative society, has feminist ideals and crude ambition.
See an obstinate and cruel mother-in-law.
See a marriage made in love and another conceived for convenience.
See the wetlands of a Calcutta neighborhood contrasted with the coast of Rhode Island.
See intellectualism battle civil unrest.
See the living suffer, watch the dead live.
See the ugliness of post traumatic stress disorder.
See one mother live with anguish, see another live with ambivalence.
See your skin crawl from a mother's abandonment.
See what it means to live a life of exile.
See what happens when people refuse to reconcile the past.
See the ghost who ruins.
See happiness intertwined with misery and agony.
See how people can be raised the same, yet lead different lives.
You read some books and through gestures, symbolism and impeccable details, they subtlety teach you things you never knew. This is one such book. Though stylistically different, parts of it reminded me of
This novel has the sophistication of a political novel. I hate to even do this comparison, but close your eyes, and you would think that it was a male author writing about male characters. Told from the third-person narrator point of view, the tone embodies the coping mechanism of the characters: stoicism--just what is needed to accompany a heartrending story without the melodramatics. At times the narration is so distant, it is as if only the storyteller is present (which, by the way, the storytelling here is stupendous). Then just at the right moment, the narration gets closer, so close that you and the character become one, you see their point of view clearly and you may not agree with them but you certainly 'get' them.
I love when I sense characters, when the plot doesn't stray but goes forward with such purpose that all I can do is follow to hear what happens next, learn what I'm supposed to learn. Love when I start to feel sorry for characters, wondering why they all end up so miserable, and then I learn that...wait...I'm wrong because in the end, they all don't end up in misery--though for some it is a long time coming.
December 29, 2014
The political history was interesting - 1960s student radicals in India - but most of The Lowland, which takes place in subsequent decades, is just another overly serious modern American family saga (immigrant subtype).
The unquestioned contrast in personalities of the two central brothers has a mythological quality but Lahiri's writing never achieves the grandeur befitting that. Sensible Subhash would, I'm sure, make an excellent, nice and reliable work colleague but written about as he was here he was of little interest. There wasn't enough insight into fiery commie Udayin, or enough story told from his viewpoint - there is a certain amount of judgement in this book that moderation and domesticity are best. I quite liked Gauri and Bela between approx. pp.200-300, but still, all the US storylines were things I've heard many times before and which don't much interest me as a subject for fiction. ("Stuff normal people like" was a phrase that kept popping into my head to characterise this novel and Lahiri, generally. Alongside Norah Jones, James Blunt and that ilk. Later I cheered 's snark about the book's American-airport-bestseller-style.)
The most laughable episode was this:
(From memory as I don't have a copy with me)
"Do you like it here?" she asked him.
No-one had asked him this before... [He has been there years and this conversation obviously represents his stoicism and unselfishness, and that others have been taking him for granted.
Two or three paragraphs describe a river and a bridge and him looking at same, before he actually replies in any shape or form.]
What an exhausted old nag of a trope. I couldn't quite believe that readers of a highly-lauded author are still supposed to fall for this rubbish.
The worst thing of all? Lahiri's writing style. Her aversion to the word "and"; dull synonyms instead of adjectives. Minimal description, underelaboration leaving me too often unmoved and uncaring about the characters. Oh, the drear! All the bloody commas! For days after I finished The Lowland I cringed when I saw certain Lahiri-like sentence structures in other books.
It's a cumulative effect which is unlikely to bother anyone on the basis of a few quotations. She's at it here, too, in I clicked on for some reason. ...when I鈥檇 only read and heard about Italy, before I鈥檇 ever come to Rome is an example of the type of sentence I grew to loathe over 340 pages - almost every one featuring this sort of phrasing - and which now makes me want to throw something at the screen. Her few paragraphs in the article take something beautiful and render it mundane and lifeless to me.
From what I'd seen of previews, reader-reviews, and snideness such as : Even within the seemingly homogeneous sphere of the university English department, a schism has opened up between literary scholarship and creative writing: disciplines which differ in their points of reference (Samuel Richardson v. Jhumpa Lahiri)...
I had suspected I would not enjoy Lahiri's writing, but not that I would almost hate it.
For perhaps the first half of the book I considered myself an ungrateful wretch, having got my mitts on a copy three weeks prior to official release whilst so many people who'd love to read it hadn't. When I started to dread picking it up, and even more dread those sentences, I must admit this guilt quite subsided.
3 stars is generous considering how much The Lowland grated, but as I was setting it alongside other Booker longlisted titles I had to concede that it is a perfectly competent novel that sits together well and makes sense. However, writing this review is making me reconsider whether I should rate this dull humourless litfic over more populist sort of novels which were stereotyped or had plot mis-steps. They were at least a bit more enjoyable to read.
ETA, Nov. This review of Unaccustomed Earth eloquently says a number of things I wish I'd said about Lahiri and her writing.
The unquestioned contrast in personalities of the two central brothers has a mythological quality but Lahiri's writing never achieves the grandeur befitting that. Sensible Subhash would, I'm sure, make an excellent, nice and reliable work colleague but written about as he was here he was of little interest. There wasn't enough insight into fiery commie Udayin, or enough story told from his viewpoint - there is a certain amount of judgement in this book that moderation and domesticity are best. I quite liked Gauri and Bela between approx. pp.200-300, but still, all the US storylines were things I've heard many times before and which don't much interest me as a subject for fiction. ("Stuff normal people like" was a phrase that kept popping into my head to characterise this novel and Lahiri, generally. Alongside Norah Jones, James Blunt and that ilk. Later I cheered 's snark about the book's American-airport-bestseller-style.)
The most laughable episode was this:
(From memory as I don't have a copy with me)
"Do you like it here?" she asked him.
No-one had asked him this before... [He has been there years and this conversation obviously represents his stoicism and unselfishness, and that others have been taking him for granted.
Two or three paragraphs describe a river and a bridge and him looking at same, before he actually replies in any shape or form.]
What an exhausted old nag of a trope. I couldn't quite believe that readers of a highly-lauded author are still supposed to fall for this rubbish.
The worst thing of all? Lahiri's writing style. Her aversion to the word "and"; dull synonyms instead of adjectives. Minimal description, underelaboration leaving me too often unmoved and uncaring about the characters. Oh, the drear! All the bloody commas! For days after I finished The Lowland I cringed when I saw certain Lahiri-like sentence structures in other books.
It's a cumulative effect which is unlikely to bother anyone on the basis of a few quotations. She's at it here, too, in I clicked on for some reason. ...when I鈥檇 only read and heard about Italy, before I鈥檇 ever come to Rome is an example of the type of sentence I grew to loathe over 340 pages - almost every one featuring this sort of phrasing - and which now makes me want to throw something at the screen. Her few paragraphs in the article take something beautiful and render it mundane and lifeless to me.
From what I'd seen of previews, reader-reviews, and snideness such as : Even within the seemingly homogeneous sphere of the university English department, a schism has opened up between literary scholarship and creative writing: disciplines which differ in their points of reference (Samuel Richardson v. Jhumpa Lahiri)...
I had suspected I would not enjoy Lahiri's writing, but not that I would almost hate it.
For perhaps the first half of the book I considered myself an ungrateful wretch, having got my mitts on a copy three weeks prior to official release whilst so many people who'd love to read it hadn't. When I started to dread picking it up, and even more dread those sentences, I must admit this guilt quite subsided.
3 stars is generous considering how much The Lowland grated, but as I was setting it alongside other Booker longlisted titles I had to concede that it is a perfectly competent novel that sits together well and makes sense. However, writing this review is making me reconsider whether I should rate this dull humourless litfic over more populist sort of novels which were stereotyped or had plot mis-steps. They were at least a bit more enjoyable to read.
ETA, Nov. This review of Unaccustomed Earth eloquently says a number of things I wish I'd said about Lahiri and her writing.
June 12, 2024
袘械蟹谢懈褔械薪 泻邪褌芯 谐械褉芯懈褌械 褋懈 - 褌邪泻邪 芯锌褉械写械谢褟屑 邪蟹 胁褌芯褉懈褟 褉芯屑邪薪 薪邪 袛卸褍屑锌邪 袥邪褏懈褉懈.
袨锌懈褌邪谢邪 褋械 械 写邪 胁锌谢械褌械 写胁械 褋褞卸械褌薪懈 薪懈褕泻懈, 斜芯谐邪褌懈 芯褌 泻褗屑 懈褋褌芯褉懈懈 懈 褋谢褍褔泻懈, 薪芯 薪械 褋械 械 锌芯谢褍褔懈谢芯, 锌芯 屑芯械 屑薪械薪懈械.
袙褋械 锌邪泻, 薪邪褍褔懈褏 蟹邪 褔械褉胁械薪懈褟 褌械褉芯褉 懈 蟹邪 褍斜懈泄褋褌胁邪褌邪 懈蟹斜褉邪薪懈 泻邪褌芯 褌邪泻褌懈泻邪 芯褌 懈薪写懈泄褋泻懈褌械 泻芯屑褍薪懈褋褌懈 蟹邪褉邪蟹械薪懈 芯褌 胁褗蟹谐谢械写懈褌械 薪邪 袦邪芯, 胁 芯锌懈褌 写邪 蟹邪胁蟹械屑邪褌 薪邪褋懈谢褋褌胁械薪芯 胁谢邪褋褌褌邪 胁 袠薪写懈褟. 袠 蟹邪 褔芯胁械泻芯谢褞斜懈胁邪褌邪 褍卸 袠薪写懈褉邪 袚邪薪写懈, 蟹邪 泻芯褟褌芯 褌褉褟斜胁邪褕械 谢懈褑械屑械褉薪芯 写邪 褋泻褗褉斜懈屑 胁 袧袪袘, 薪芯 泻芯褟褌芯 薪械 褋械 械 锌芯泻芯谢械斜邪谢邪 写邪 胁褗胁械写械 胁芯械薪薪芯 锌芯谢芯卸械薪懈械 懈 写邪 锌褍褋薪械 械褋泻邪写褉芯薪懈 薪邪 褋屑褗褉褌褌邪, 懈蟹斜懈胁邪褖懈 斜械蟹 褋褗写 懈 锌褉懈褋褗写邪鈥�
袠屑邪褕械 薪褟泻芯谢泻芯 屑芯屑械薪褌邪 胁 泻薪懈谐邪褌邪, 泻芯懈褌芯 屑懈 写芯锌邪写薪邪褏邪, 薪芯 泻邪褌芯 褑褟谢芯 褋褗屑 褉邪蟹芯褔邪褉芯胁邪薪 - 袥邪褏懈褉懈 屑芯卸械 屑薪芯谐芯 锌芯胁械褔械!
袨锌懈褌邪谢邪 褋械 械 写邪 胁锌谢械褌械 写胁械 褋褞卸械褌薪懈 薪懈褕泻懈, 斜芯谐邪褌懈 芯褌 泻褗屑 懈褋褌芯褉懈懈 懈 褋谢褍褔泻懈, 薪芯 薪械 褋械 械 锌芯谢褍褔懈谢芯, 锌芯 屑芯械 屑薪械薪懈械.
袙褋械 锌邪泻, 薪邪褍褔懈褏 蟹邪 褔械褉胁械薪懈褟 褌械褉芯褉 懈 蟹邪 褍斜懈泄褋褌胁邪褌邪 懈蟹斜褉邪薪懈 泻邪褌芯 褌邪泻褌懈泻邪 芯褌 懈薪写懈泄褋泻懈褌械 泻芯屑褍薪懈褋褌懈 蟹邪褉邪蟹械薪懈 芯褌 胁褗蟹谐谢械写懈褌械 薪邪 袦邪芯, 胁 芯锌懈褌 写邪 蟹邪胁蟹械屑邪褌 薪邪褋懈谢褋褌胁械薪芯 胁谢邪褋褌褌邪 胁 袠薪写懈褟. 袠 蟹邪 褔芯胁械泻芯谢褞斜懈胁邪褌邪 褍卸 袠薪写懈褉邪 袚邪薪写懈, 蟹邪 泻芯褟褌芯 褌褉褟斜胁邪褕械 谢懈褑械屑械褉薪芯 写邪 褋泻褗褉斜懈屑 胁 袧袪袘, 薪芯 泻芯褟褌芯 薪械 褋械 械 锌芯泻芯谢械斜邪谢邪 写邪 胁褗胁械写械 胁芯械薪薪芯 锌芯谢芯卸械薪懈械 懈 写邪 锌褍褋薪械 械褋泻邪写褉芯薪懈 薪邪 褋屑褗褉褌褌邪, 懈蟹斜懈胁邪褖懈 斜械蟹 褋褗写 懈 锌褉懈褋褗写邪鈥�
袠屑邪褕械 薪褟泻芯谢泻芯 屑芯屑械薪褌邪 胁 泻薪懈谐邪褌邪, 泻芯懈褌芯 屑懈 写芯锌邪写薪邪褏邪, 薪芯 泻邪褌芯 褑褟谢芯 褋褗屑 褉邪蟹芯褔邪褉芯胁邪薪 - 袥邪褏懈褉懈 屑芯卸械 屑薪芯谐芯 锌芯胁械褔械!
October 12, 2019
丕夭 噩賵賲倬丕 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖 賵 賳孬乇 賵 亘蹖丕賳卮 鬲賵 乇蹖賵蹖賵賴丕蹖 賯亘賱蹖 夭蹖丕丿 诏賮鬲賲貙 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 賴賲 賴賲賵賳 丨丕賱 賵 賴賵丕 乇賵 丿丕乇賴貙 賴賲賵賳 賲賵囟賵毓丕鬲 賵 賴賲賵賳 噩匕丕亘蹖鬲 亘蹖 亘丿蹖賱 乇賵丕蹖鬲蹖 讴賴 賲賳丨氐乇 亘賴 禺賵丿 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 丕爻鬲.
丕賲丕 诏賵丿蹖 鬲賱禺 亘賵丿 禺蹖賱蹖 鬲賱禺. 鬲賱禺蹖 讴賴 鬲丕 丌禺乇 讴鬲丕亘 賲賳鬲馗乇 乇賴丕蹖蹖 丕夭卮 亘賵丿賲 丕賲丕 賴乇趩蹖 倬蹖卮 乇賮鬲 倬乇 乇賳诏鈥屫� 卮丿.
卮丕禺氐賴 丕氐賱蹖 卮禺氐蹖鬲鈥屬囏й� 丿丕爻鬲丕賳鈥屬囏й� 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖賴 亘賳馗乇賲. 丕賳诏丕乇 丕蹖賳 丌丿賲鈥屬囏� 亘丕 鬲賲丕賲 鬲噩乇亘賴鈥屬囏й� 讴賴 丕夭 爻乇 賲蹖诏匕乇賵賳賳丿 亘丕夭 亘賴 賳賯胤賴鈥屫й� 賲蹖乇爻賳丿 讴賴 趩蹖夭蹖 噩夭 禺賵丿卮賵賳 亘乇丕卮賵賳 亘丕賯蹖 賳賲蹖賲賵賳賴. 賵 丕蹖賳 丿賯蹖賯丕 賵丕賯毓蹖鬲 睾蹖乇賯丕亘賱 丕賳讴丕乇 夭賳丿诏蹖 亘卮乇賴貙 賵丕賯毓蹖鬲 氐乇蹖丨 賵 賲賱賲賵爻 夭賳丿诏蹖 丌丿賲鈥屬囏�...
丕賲丕 诏賵丿蹖 鬲賱禺 亘賵丿 禺蹖賱蹖 鬲賱禺. 鬲賱禺蹖 讴賴 鬲丕 丌禺乇 讴鬲丕亘 賲賳鬲馗乇 乇賴丕蹖蹖 丕夭卮 亘賵丿賲 丕賲丕 賴乇趩蹖 倬蹖卮 乇賮鬲 倬乇 乇賳诏鈥屫� 卮丿.
卮丕禺氐賴 丕氐賱蹖 卮禺氐蹖鬲鈥屬囏й� 丿丕爻鬲丕賳鈥屬囏й� 賱丕賴蹖乇蹖 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖賴 亘賳馗乇賲. 丕賳诏丕乇 丕蹖賳 丌丿賲鈥屬囏� 亘丕 鬲賲丕賲 鬲噩乇亘賴鈥屬囏й� 讴賴 丕夭 爻乇 賲蹖诏匕乇賵賳賳丿 亘丕夭 亘賴 賳賯胤賴鈥屫й� 賲蹖乇爻賳丿 讴賴 趩蹖夭蹖 噩夭 禺賵丿卮賵賳 亘乇丕卮賵賳 亘丕賯蹖 賳賲蹖賲賵賳賴. 賵 丕蹖賳 丿賯蹖賯丕 賵丕賯毓蹖鬲 睾蹖乇賯丕亘賱 丕賳讴丕乇 夭賳丿诏蹖 亘卮乇賴貙 賵丕賯毓蹖鬲 氐乇蹖丨 賵 賲賱賲賵爻 夭賳丿诏蹖 丌丿賲鈥屬囏�...
August 13, 2024
Jhumpa Lahiri's "The Lowland" is a sorrowful, fast moving and truly operatic novel that weaves past and present, the story of two brothers, the woman they both marry, and the daughter/niece that both anchors and separates these four from one another's lives.
Udayan is the brash, slightly younger revolutionary who is murdered by a volatile government; and Gauri is his widow, who later becomes his quieter and less reactionary brother Subhash's wife as he makes a life for himself in Rhode Island during the 1970s.
Bela is Udayan and Gauri's daughter who becomes Subhash's daughter as well- and these four quietly drawn characters take the reader into Lahiri's signature themes of loss, themes of "the other" and the will to assimilate within American society; often found from her past works such as "Interpreter of Maladies" and "The Namesake".
However this is Lahiri at her most political, and most radical in her writing: for some reason this time around she was more interested in storytelling with the interpolation of the personal and political.
I find this an impressive departure from the sharper skilled books she鈥檚 known for.
Lahiri writing a world of political and social violence and the intricacies of characterization are at play here with an aimless abandonment and spontaneity that I find to be an incredible pleasure in having read this bleak novel with a bitter heart.
It is the psychology and coldness of the characters that drew me in, and ironically made them warmer than previous characters in other books with the exception of the characters in 鈥淗ema and Kaushik鈥� from Unaccustomed Earth.
Their defiance and stubbornness to change is what makes this an interesting and compelling read.
Udayan is the brash, slightly younger revolutionary who is murdered by a volatile government; and Gauri is his widow, who later becomes his quieter and less reactionary brother Subhash's wife as he makes a life for himself in Rhode Island during the 1970s.
Bela is Udayan and Gauri's daughter who becomes Subhash's daughter as well- and these four quietly drawn characters take the reader into Lahiri's signature themes of loss, themes of "the other" and the will to assimilate within American society; often found from her past works such as "Interpreter of Maladies" and "The Namesake".
However this is Lahiri at her most political, and most radical in her writing: for some reason this time around she was more interested in storytelling with the interpolation of the personal and political.
I find this an impressive departure from the sharper skilled books she鈥檚 known for.
Lahiri writing a world of political and social violence and the intricacies of characterization are at play here with an aimless abandonment and spontaneity that I find to be an incredible pleasure in having read this bleak novel with a bitter heart.
It is the psychology and coldness of the characters that drew me in, and ironically made them warmer than previous characters in other books with the exception of the characters in 鈥淗ema and Kaushik鈥� from Unaccustomed Earth.
Their defiance and stubbornness to change is what makes this an interesting and compelling read.
September 28, 2013
Jhumpa Lahiri is, hands-down, my favorite writer. The Namesake is part of the reason why I chose to pursue a career in books, and it was very nearly the subject of my master's thesis. I'm not much of a short story reader, but Unaccustomed Earth made me wish I could be a writer.
I just love the way that she examines human nature. Sometimes her themes can be a little repetitive, but her insights are so sharp. I love how her work tends to emphasizes the smaller moments of her characters' lives -- The Namesake condenses an entire thirty-something years into less than 300 pages, but never felt like it was lacking in depth.
The Lowland follows a similar structure, but here Lahiri covers more years and more generations in more pages. It doesn't work quite as well as The Namesake did, but it's still quite powerful.
The book begins with two brothers, Subhash and Udayan, in 1960s Calcutta. Udayan becomes involved in an underground communist movement, while Subhash pursues postgraduate education in America. When Udayan's politics cost him his life, Subhash returns home and learns that his sister-in-law, Guari, is pregnant. Guari is received coldly by the brothers' parents because the marriage was not an arranged one. Knowing that she will essentially be alone, Subhash decides to marry her and take her back to America with him so that she may have a safer, more economically secure life. The books follows their lives well into the twenty-first century.
I think that the metaphorical elements of this book, the aspects that emphasize themes and broader ideas work quite well. That's where Lahiri shines the most. The contrast of Guari's unarranged marriage to Udayan versus a might-as-well-be arranged marriage to Subhash. Guari and Subhash鈥檚 differing approaches to parenthood contrasted against their differing paths to parenthood. How their daughter Bela鈥檚 approach to life varies from their own. The sacrfices made by each of the brothers in their pursuit of what each sees as the noble path.
Unfortunately, the characters in The Lowland don't shine quite as much. Over the course of this book, we see Udayan and Subhash as young children, experiencing things that will lead to Udayan's desire to join the Naxalite movement during his college years. We see Subhash grow into an old man and Guari's daughter grow into middle age. We see the brothers鈥� parents reach the end of their lives. And yet, I never felt connected to any of these characters quite the way I expected to. They behaved in complex-yet-predictable ways, but their development sometimes felt mechanical in a way that didn鈥檛 allow them to rise up off the page.
Lahiri is a brilliant writer and I can鈥檛 not recommend this book. Start with her other works first, if you haven鈥檛 already. Read this one for the thematic exploration of cultural and familal obligations 鈥� if you want a story where the characters grab you, you may want to pass over this one.
I just love the way that she examines human nature. Sometimes her themes can be a little repetitive, but her insights are so sharp. I love how her work tends to emphasizes the smaller moments of her characters' lives -- The Namesake condenses an entire thirty-something years into less than 300 pages, but never felt like it was lacking in depth.
The Lowland follows a similar structure, but here Lahiri covers more years and more generations in more pages. It doesn't work quite as well as The Namesake did, but it's still quite powerful.
The book begins with two brothers, Subhash and Udayan, in 1960s Calcutta. Udayan becomes involved in an underground communist movement, while Subhash pursues postgraduate education in America. When Udayan's politics cost him his life, Subhash returns home and learns that his sister-in-law, Guari, is pregnant. Guari is received coldly by the brothers' parents because the marriage was not an arranged one. Knowing that she will essentially be alone, Subhash decides to marry her and take her back to America with him so that she may have a safer, more economically secure life. The books follows their lives well into the twenty-first century.
I think that the metaphorical elements of this book, the aspects that emphasize themes and broader ideas work quite well. That's where Lahiri shines the most. The contrast of Guari's unarranged marriage to Udayan versus a might-as-well-be arranged marriage to Subhash. Guari and Subhash鈥檚 differing approaches to parenthood contrasted against their differing paths to parenthood. How their daughter Bela鈥檚 approach to life varies from their own. The sacrfices made by each of the brothers in their pursuit of what each sees as the noble path.
Unfortunately, the characters in The Lowland don't shine quite as much. Over the course of this book, we see Udayan and Subhash as young children, experiencing things that will lead to Udayan's desire to join the Naxalite movement during his college years. We see Subhash grow into an old man and Guari's daughter grow into middle age. We see the brothers鈥� parents reach the end of their lives. And yet, I never felt connected to any of these characters quite the way I expected to. They behaved in complex-yet-predictable ways, but their development sometimes felt mechanical in a way that didn鈥檛 allow them to rise up off the page.
Lahiri is a brilliant writer and I can鈥檛 not recommend this book. Start with her other works first, if you haven鈥檛 already. Read this one for the thematic exploration of cultural and familal obligations 鈥� if you want a story where the characters grab you, you may want to pass over this one.
July 23, 2013
First let me say that Jhumpa Lahiri is my goddess of literature. I read a lot 鈥� maybe 75 books a year 鈥� and I have rarely fallen under the spell of a book the way I did with Interpreter of Maladies. Her follow-up collection of short stories, Unaccustomed Earth, was also an unqualified 5-star success.
So I was dying to get my hands on her new novel, The Lowland. I read through it eagerly but I closed the last page with mixed feelings.
Let鈥檚 start with the good: Ms. Lahiri is a natural-born storyteller. In this book, she introduces two brothers, close in age who are poles apart 鈥� Udayan, the revolutionary brother who gets caught up in the Mao-inspired Naxalite movement to wipe out poverty in India and his more reserved and dutiful brother, Subhash, who leaves home to pursue an academic and scientific life in Rhode Island. When Udayan inevitably gets swept into a revolutionary movement that turns out badly, Subhash returns home 鈥揵riefly 鈥� and picks up the pieces, including an attempt to heal the emotional scars of his brother鈥檚 young wife.
As the plot goes on 鈥� and it is not my desire to encapsulate the plot or to create spoilers 鈥� about 70 years of family history is condensed into a mere 340 pages. Themes play out and then they play out again: the connections that make and break us, the intertwining to people we cannot truly see or know, the way we are defined by the place we call 鈥渉ome鈥�, the quiet differences we make in the world. It鈥檚 all wound up in the history of India and indeed, Ms. Lahiri is at her very finest when she鈥檚 describing Indian customs or lifestyles as only an insider can.
There鈥檚 some lovely craftsmanship here, not bells and whistles, but quiet and contemplative -- even shimmering 鈥� moments. The problem is, I never found it to be very compelling. Because of all the years and generations (four of them) that Ms. Lahiri has to cover, she can only provide sketches of her characters. And they never truly come alive.
Yes, Udayan is the fiery revolutionary鈥ut what made him so and why was he willing to sacrifice so much (the headiness of youth and a sense of fairness should only be the beginning). His wife, Guari, who eventually bonds with Subhash, was an enigma to be throughout. She is a distanced character, and her actions begin to feel somewhat predictable; the reader is never treated to her resonance and depth. And Bela, her daughter, is only revealed in limited emotional scope.
A novel, unlike a short story, demands a considerable emotional tension, a multi-textured richness that makes characters leap off the page. I never really sensed the two-dimensionality, possibly because the story line was multi-generational and ambitious. The litmus test of whether or not you will love this book is this: if you loved Namesake, this is definitely a book for you, since stylistically, there are similarities. If you are, instead, a fan of her short stories, you may or may not be engaged. Judge for yourself.
So I was dying to get my hands on her new novel, The Lowland. I read through it eagerly but I closed the last page with mixed feelings.
Let鈥檚 start with the good: Ms. Lahiri is a natural-born storyteller. In this book, she introduces two brothers, close in age who are poles apart 鈥� Udayan, the revolutionary brother who gets caught up in the Mao-inspired Naxalite movement to wipe out poverty in India and his more reserved and dutiful brother, Subhash, who leaves home to pursue an academic and scientific life in Rhode Island. When Udayan inevitably gets swept into a revolutionary movement that turns out badly, Subhash returns home 鈥揵riefly 鈥� and picks up the pieces, including an attempt to heal the emotional scars of his brother鈥檚 young wife.
As the plot goes on 鈥� and it is not my desire to encapsulate the plot or to create spoilers 鈥� about 70 years of family history is condensed into a mere 340 pages. Themes play out and then they play out again: the connections that make and break us, the intertwining to people we cannot truly see or know, the way we are defined by the place we call 鈥渉ome鈥�, the quiet differences we make in the world. It鈥檚 all wound up in the history of India and indeed, Ms. Lahiri is at her very finest when she鈥檚 describing Indian customs or lifestyles as only an insider can.
There鈥檚 some lovely craftsmanship here, not bells and whistles, but quiet and contemplative -- even shimmering 鈥� moments. The problem is, I never found it to be very compelling. Because of all the years and generations (four of them) that Ms. Lahiri has to cover, she can only provide sketches of her characters. And they never truly come alive.
Yes, Udayan is the fiery revolutionary鈥ut what made him so and why was he willing to sacrifice so much (the headiness of youth and a sense of fairness should only be the beginning). His wife, Guari, who eventually bonds with Subhash, was an enigma to be throughout. She is a distanced character, and her actions begin to feel somewhat predictable; the reader is never treated to her resonance and depth. And Bela, her daughter, is only revealed in limited emotional scope.
A novel, unlike a short story, demands a considerable emotional tension, a multi-textured richness that makes characters leap off the page. I never really sensed the two-dimensionality, possibly because the story line was multi-generational and ambitious. The litmus test of whether or not you will love this book is this: if you loved Namesake, this is definitely a book for you, since stylistically, there are similarities. If you are, instead, a fan of her short stories, you may or may not be engaged. Judge for yourself.
February 16, 2019
I have had mixed feelings about Lahiri in the past, but I enjoyed this novel whilst being unsure of what Lahiri was trying to do with it. There isn鈥檛 a cast of thousands, but it is a family drama starting in India and moving to the US. The focus of the novel is two brothers Subhash and Udayan. They are born in Calcutta fifteen months apart, just after the Second World War. There is a patch of land near where they live in Tollygunge with two ponds and close to the exclusive Tolly club. The brothers are close and the reader is taken through childhood and into the mid-1960s towards college. Udayan is always the leader.
The two brothers begin to drift apart. Subhash goes to college in Rhode Island to study. Udayan becomes involved in radical politics and joins the Naxalite movement, Maoist in politics and potentially violent. Udayan also marries Gauri, in secret, only telling his parents afterwards. Udayan is shot by the police on the patch of ground hear his home. Gauri is pregnant. Subhash returns for the funeral and marries Gauri, although they do not love each other. They return to the US. This all takes place in the first quarter of the book. The rest of the book follows Subhash, Gauri and her daughter Bela up to the present day.
Lahiri captures the immigrant experience in America through the eyes of Subhash:
鈥淭he difference was so extreme that he could not accommodate the two places together in his mind. In this enormous new country, there seemed to be nowhere for the old to reside. There was nothing to link them; he was the sole link.鈥�
The first section of the novel is gripping, however the rest is much more evenly paced and is really about living life and dealing with the past. There is a focus on family relationships. There is a sense of destinies displaced and the grinding mundaneness of life. There is a reality to this rather than elegance. And a story of fraternal bonds that linger beyond death. There are niggles, the relationship between Gauri and Subhash, for me didn鈥檛 ring true in the way it played out, especially in relation to Bela. The novel does play out the universal nature of human hopes and fears, it is well written and I enjoyed it. But it didn鈥檛 really do any more than that. I鈥檓 not sure what more I wanted, more of an edge perhaps.
The two brothers begin to drift apart. Subhash goes to college in Rhode Island to study. Udayan becomes involved in radical politics and joins the Naxalite movement, Maoist in politics and potentially violent. Udayan also marries Gauri, in secret, only telling his parents afterwards. Udayan is shot by the police on the patch of ground hear his home. Gauri is pregnant. Subhash returns for the funeral and marries Gauri, although they do not love each other. They return to the US. This all takes place in the first quarter of the book. The rest of the book follows Subhash, Gauri and her daughter Bela up to the present day.
Lahiri captures the immigrant experience in America through the eyes of Subhash:
鈥淭he difference was so extreme that he could not accommodate the two places together in his mind. In this enormous new country, there seemed to be nowhere for the old to reside. There was nothing to link them; he was the sole link.鈥�
The first section of the novel is gripping, however the rest is much more evenly paced and is really about living life and dealing with the past. There is a focus on family relationships. There is a sense of destinies displaced and the grinding mundaneness of life. There is a reality to this rather than elegance. And a story of fraternal bonds that linger beyond death. There are niggles, the relationship between Gauri and Subhash, for me didn鈥檛 ring true in the way it played out, especially in relation to Bela. The novel does play out the universal nature of human hopes and fears, it is well written and I enjoyed it. But it didn鈥檛 really do any more than that. I鈥檓 not sure what more I wanted, more of an edge perhaps.
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