Absolutely Compelling

This website about The God of Small Things is really, really amazing. I highly recommend it to anyone studying or even reading the book for fun. There is a portion about the timeline of the book in relation to events going on in the area of India that the book is set in and it also describes Ayemenem and the places around it in detail. There is a really interesting video also on there about the mixture of people from different 'levels' of society during times of pain and death. It is a great supplement to the book and I am glad I came across it and could sum up my experience with the book by exploring the site. You can also find portions of the site dedicated to other great novels such as One Hundred Years of Solitude and The Odyssey.

I Felt Compelled to Include This...

Just some quotes throughout the book that I really enjoyed, that made me stop and think for a few moments (I highlighted them as I went along just so I could have this collection--I like to save good quotes somewhere to read them later):

• "Ammu, resting under the skin of her dream, observed them and ached with her love for them" (208).

• "'Promise me you'll always love each other,' she'd say, as she drew her children to her. 'Promise,' Estha and Rahel would say. Not finding words with which to tell her that for them there was no Each, no Other" (214-215).
  

• (The Great Stories)... "are as familiar as the house you live in. Or the smell of your lover's skin. You know how they end, yet you listen as though you don't. In the way that although you know that one day you will die, you live as though you won't" (218).

• "He is searching for the beast that lives within him, Comrade Pillai had told them..." ... "Searching for the Man who lives in him was perhaps what he really meant, because certainly no beast has essayed the boundless, infinitely inventive art of human hatred. No beast can match its range and power" (225)

• "And there it was again. Another religion turned against itself. Another edifice constructed by the human mind, decimated by human nature" (272).

• "Faintly outlined. The sharp line of her jaw. Her collarbones like wings that spread from the base of her throat to the ends of her shoulders. A bird held down by skin" (283).

• "He folded his fear into a perfect rose. He held it out in the palm of his hand. She took it from him and put it in her hair" (319).

From the sheer quantity of touching quotes that I found in this book (I don't usually stop at this many in other books), it is clear that Roy writes very eloquently and I really enjoy her style.

Coming to a Close

As I finish reading this book, I am still convinced that it is simply a horrible tragedy rather than a beautiful tying up of all of the events. The strange notes of incest simply seem to me like the remnants of a deranged past and an inescapable helplessness that the twins must inevitably feel, rather than a beautiful union of two people who have a lot in common. The fact that "the Paradise Pickles & Preserves signboard rotted and fell inward like a collapsed crown" seems to be, for me, a good explanation of the entire conclusion of the story (280). A sad ending to something that had the potential to be something so colorful and successful; the preserves company could have been this if it weren't for the scandals that went on in its most fertile moment for growth, and the twins could have been this for that same exact reason.

I look back on Arundhati Roy's writing style as beautiful and elegant; but at the same time, I have found it difficult to explain a lot of the things she repeats throughout the entire course of the novel. So many phrases were repeated dozens of times, and some of them seem to have no significant origin or meaning (for example, "dun dun dun"). The more I think about it, the more it seems that these seemingly random sayings do serve a purpose. I think they are there to provide a sort of echo of previous disturbing events. They are originally there in some graphic or disturbing parts of the novel, and then they are constantly repeated so that the readers get a sense of how these scars will never go away for the characters; they will keep coming back to haunt them as they try to move on with their lives. I admire Roy's ability to convey this feeling/message without explicitly saying it and I think it is a very creative and unique device to use in doing so. Here is another example of "The Echo Technique" used in Cormac McCarthy's work.

Relapse

Just as my faith in Ammu had begun to grow back, she said to her children: "'Because of you!' Ammu screamed. 'If it wasn't for you I wouldn't be here! None of this would have happened! I wouldn't be her! I would have been free! I should have dumped you in an orphanage the day you were born! You're the millstones round my neck!'" (239-240).

Although it is clear that she said these things out of anger, they are still completely horrible ideas to put into the heads of your children. Also, they are not true. It is not because of them that she is at this point in her life, it is because of her own choices (ie. choices to have sex and have children). Even if it was out of anger that she said this, I can't help but be persuaded that she never did and never will love her children. Why else would she say something so utterly ruthless to small and innocent children?

At this part in the novel, I am truly feeling so extremely mournful for the lives of Rahel and Estha. They are two innocent children forced to see and experience things they should not even dream of for years to come. Poor little Estha, being molested without his mother even knowing and then being made to feel unwanted, and Rahel, who also gets made to feel like a piece of trash at Ammus' and Baby Kochammas' feet. Ammu is so selfish that it is disgusting, only caring about herself, her happiness, and her own pleasure from beginning to end of this novel. I really do think she is a deplorable character. And then, in the end, the twins STILL find it in their hearts to try to save their mother whom, after all she has done to them, they still adore. This makes me sympathize with them even more and further asserts my dislike for Ammu.

The River and Ammu

In one of my first blog entries, I talked about the interesting description of Ammu as turning 'wild' in a sense, wandering about the river with her tangerine transistor radio. Later in the book, this description of the river reminded me of that earlier passage about Ammu:

"'Really a wild thing... I can hear her at night--rushing past in the moonlight, always in a hurry. You must be careful of her'" (201).

This reminds me of Ammu not only because of the earlier reference to her as 'wild' but also because of her secret stealing out at night that she has been doing. It makes me think that she is in some sort of danger. This passage about the river is mysterious just as Ammu's night excursions are also quite mind-boggling. Ammu is deliberately being paralleled to the river here and they are both being pointed out as wild, dangerous, and mysterious all at the same time.

Due to the extreme dream-like quality of this entire book, I thought it would be interesting to do a little bit more research about what a river symbolizes in a dream (much like the dream-like quality that Ammu's midnight excursions by the river take on).

Twin Telepathy

I know, I know, I'm always talking about 'the twin thing', but I can't help it. This subject is what hooked me onto this book and what interests me the most, so here goes.

"'But Communists don't believe in ghosts,' Estha said, as though they were continuing a discourse investigating solutions to the ghost problem. Their conversations surfaced and dipped like mountain streams. Sometimes audible to other people. Sometimes not" (190-191).

The twins' ability to continue a conversation that was never once materialized into the physical world and which began secretly between each others' minds, in a way, is quite astonishing. This is just another indicator at what kind of bond they truly have and also another example of their 'silent contract' that I mentioned before.

I also think that the "surfac[ing] and dip[ping] like mountain streams" description is quite accurate and beautiful. This is one of the reasons I fell in love with Arundhati Roy's writing, because of her constant ability to describe things eloquently and in a manner in which I have never thought about them before. I truly wish that Roy had written more novels than one.

This website is a compilation of twin stories (both identical and fraternal), talking about the bonds they have with their twin, and I think that as a companion reading to this novel it is quite interesting.

Angry Outlook

"Rahel put on her sunglasses and looked back into the Play. Everything was Angry-colored. Sophie Mol, standing between Margaret Kochamma and Chacko, looked as though she ought to be slapped" (176). She proceeds to kill an entire hill of ants.

These red sunglasses are significant because they transform Rahel when she puts them on. They change her from the pleasant and complacent girl she normally is to angry and impulsive. When she isn't wearing the glasses, she feels a slight aversion to Sophie Mol, but when she is wearing them, she goes as far as to say that she deserves to be slapped. This is a very physical and angry proclamation for a little girl to make. And the strange thing is, she is always wanting to wear those glasses. It is possible that the transformation makes her feel more in-control of her life, whereas most of the time she is not in control of the events around her. She is like someone on a roller coaster, just along for the ride and unable to do anything to change it's course. The glasses change her perspective. They give her courage to change the things going on around her. The unsuspecting ants probably would have continued on with their routines in perfect insect harmony if it was not for Rahel putting on those glasses that gave her a lust to change something around her. The ants give her a helpless victim to take out her aggression on, very similar to the way that she is a helpless victim of the experiences she undergoes.

That Twin Bond

One of the most interesting quotes in the book, in my opinion: "Rahel never wrote to him. There are things that you can't do--like writing letters to a part of yourself. To your feet or hair. Or heart." (156).

This quote made me stop. I think it is a beautiful way of putting it--that strangeness one feels toward their twin. The way you could remain out of contact with your twin for years and years and the next time you meet, it's like nothing has changed. You don't worry that they will love you any less, you know it's impossible. You have an understanding with your twin that is, in many ways, like an unspoken contract. I have these feelings toward my twin, so I immediately understood what Roy was conveying with this quote. Rahel didn't write to Estha, not because she didn't want to, but because she didn't have to. Like a part of her body (her hair, feet, or heart), he was aware of how things were and would be when they met again. These body parts stay with you all the time, constantly, even though you don't think about them every moment of the day, just like Estha stayed constantly in the depths of Rahel's heart.

A More Affectionate Ammu

It seems that as the novel moves, Ammu shows more and more signs of actually caring about her children. It is hard to tell if she is merely acting in the routine of her every day life that she loves them, but to me it seems genuine.

"It was as though Ammu believed that if she refused to acknowledge the passage of time, if she willed it to stand still in the lives of her twins, it would. As though sheer willpower was enough to suspend her children's childhoods until she could afford to have them living with her. Then they could take up from where they left off. Start again from seven. Ammu told Rahel that she had bought Estha a comic too, but that she'd kept it away for him until she got another job and could earn enough to rent a room for the three of them to stay together in" (152).

Previously it seemed as if the only thing Ammu cared about in life was herself, but this makes my opinion shift slightly. This also reminds me of my own life and how, although my mother may act like she doesn't care sometimes and hurts us (as Ammu did to Rahel's feelings), she occasionally surprises me like this. There was one point in our life where my mother was also striving to find a place and the money for the three of us (her, me, and my twin brother) to live and be happy in. I think this is why I likes this book so much out of all of the texts we read in this class; there are a lot of aspects that parallel my own life and I can really relate to some of the events.

Enough about me, though. Another indicator that Ammu does, in fact, harbor care and love for her children is the repetition of her assurance to the twins that "she was their Ammu and their Baba and she had loved them Double" (155). The children, at one point, repeat this statement in unison, telling me that this is something that their mother is very concerned that they know. That concern gains Ammu a little bit more respect in my book.

How Would You Like Your Eggs?

Just making note here to all of the references to eggs and egg whites. The twins are repeatedly referred to as "Two-egg Twin Ambassadors", "two-egg twins", and "unidentical two-egg twins" (133, 190, 208). Estha's hair puff is compared to fluffy egg whites as well. All of these 'nicknames' must have some sort of implication, right? My guess is that there could be multiple explanations for it. One is possibly a reference to sex and sperm, seeing as during the scene in which Estha is molested by the "Orangedrink Lemondrink Man, Estha compares what is on his hands to sticky egg-whites. This illustrates that, no matter how mature and grown up Estha strives to be, he is still no more than an innocent child. This reference to egg-whites indicates a sort of constant innocence of the twins in their situations throughout the novel. Things happen to them that they, for the most part, have no control over.
Another message the eggs could be expressing is the closeness of the twins. Although they are "two-eggs" and "unidentical", the eggs came from the same place, and they will always be, in some sense, connected to each other in that aspect.

Hearing vs. Listening

In one of my other English classes just the other day, we had a lesson about the difference between hearing and listening, and by coincidence, I read this line in The God of Small Things just after the class: "He heard her out, but didn't really listen to what she was saying" (116). This is regarding Mammachi trying to caution Chacko about the preserves company.

Most people assume that, if you heard someone, you also listened to them, but these are two completely different things. To listen to someone requires you to actually take what they say into consideration and process it; to understand it in terms of your and the other person's life. I am going to continue to think about this binary while reading the rest of the novel and contemplate whether the characters are listening to each other or simply just disregarding what they say and moving on with their own personal problems. I have also been trying to think about this in my personal life regarding my interaction with others. I know I would want the people I talk to to listen rather than to just hear what I say.

My Predictions Played Out

Just as I had previously suspected, Ammu does have her faltering moments as a mother. There is a moment described where Ammu and the twins' father are shoving the children back and forth amongst themselves, both trying to come up with excuses for why they don't want them. No child should ever have to feel unwanted by their parents in this manner. Also, after Rahel makes a sarcastic remark to her mother, her mothers way of reprimanding her was, in my opinion, completely heartless. She tells Rahel that she hurt her in saying that, she hurt her feelings and "when you hurt people, they begin to love you less. That's what careless words do. They make people love you a little less" (107), therefore implying that she loves her daughter less after what she had said. Nothing should make a parent love their child less, no matter how severe, let alone a naive remark made from a child. Rahel is deeply affected by this 'lesson' that her mother has given her and constantly worries that her mother loves her less no matter what she does and spends her time trying to earn her mother's love back. From Rahel's perspective: "But now that Estha wasn't well and Love had been re-apportioned (Ammu loved her a little less), Rahel would have to sleep with Chacko, and Estha with Ammu and Baby Kochamma" (109). Ammu has forgotten about the comment she made to Rahel, but Rahel hasn't. To a child's mind, one who is so very dependent on the love and affection of her mother, this remark was nothing but solemn sincerity. This has truly made my respect for Ammu's character deteriorate drastically.

Estha Grows Up Pre-maturely

Already I have noticed a lot of desire in Estha to be grown up, rather than the child he is. There is the part where they are at the movies and Rahel weighs too little for her chair to stay down, so "the chair folded her into itself like sandwich stuffing, and she watched from between her knees." However, "Estha, with more dignity than that, sat on the edge of his chair" (95). He doesn't want to be little, but rather strives to be "dignified" like an adult. He also refuses to use the toilet in the bathroom and actually stand on cans instead so that he can reach the urinal like a tall man would be able to do. He holds the tickets for the movie, which also makes him feel like he holds the ideal masculine power in the group of women that accompanies him. It is ironic, then, that he is the one who is literally forced (molested) to grow up way too fast, although he does not understand what is happening during the incident, only feeling complete fear (ie. "a Little Man's first encounter with Fear" (113)). The fact that his own personal desire to appear more mature than his sister was, in a way, carried out (although in a very wrong manner) and his sister, who cared nothing about how old she acted, points to the cruelness and irony of things.

Before the incident in the lobby of the theater, he had been singing happily and everyone wanted him to "'for heaven's sake, shut UP!!'" (96). He was even referred to as "Elvis the Pelvis". Now, he doesn't even talk. His high hopes were slaughtered that day and his jolliness as well. It is mournful to witness his high ambitions and personality side by side with his present day silence.

He is further humiliated by Baby Kochamma on the day at the airport that the family goes to meet Sophie Mol and Margaret. "'Elvis Presley,' Baby Kochamma said for revenge. 'I'm afraid we're a little behind the times here.' Everyone looked at Estha and laughed" (138). This moment is the breaking point for me. Tears welled up in my eyes because of how sad I felt about the bashing the character of Estha gets in this novel. The poor boy, who seems to have a heart of gold, continuously has his happiness smothered by others.

In a sort of sad way, this hits quite close to home for me. I also have a twin brother, and Estha in this book reminds me a lot of him. My brother has a very, very kind heart, like Estha, and it seems to me that everyone only sees him for his bad qualities and constantly puts him down. It pains me so much, and I think that is why the story of Estha really touches me. I feel protective over my twin brother just as I feel protective over Estha.

Truly Introduced to Ammu

Ammu (the mother of the twins) seemed quite vague to me up until this point. Although this description only describes her at times, I think it says a lot about her character.

"On days like this there was something restless and untamed about her. As though she had temporarily set aside the morality of motherhood and divorcee-hood. Even her walk changed from a safe mother-walk to another wilder sort of walk. She wore flowers in her hair and carried magic secrets in her eyes. She spoke to no one. She spent hours on the riverbank with her little plastic transistor shaped like a tangerine. She smoked cigarettes and had midnight swims" (43).

She has remained quite mysterious up to this point, and although some may say this passage could make her seem even more so, I think it tells rather than masks her. It gives me the impression that she wasn't ready to be a mother and that she still longs for that sort of fleeting lifestyle she could have if it weren't for her children. It is an alluring description because I think there is a part of each one of us that longs to simply wander aimlessly, having "midnight swims", not having to deal with socializing with others, and wearing "flowers in [our] hair". I foresee her indulging in some neglectful behavior toward her children as the events of this novel unfold. This has got to be foreshadowing of some sort.

My Impression From the First Paragraph

Ayemenem
Photo from: http://www.learner.org/courses/worldlit/media/the-god-of-small-things/timeline/CE1961_01_lg.jpg

The description in the first paragraph, to me, is breathtaking. I am excited to read this book already not only because I am interested in Indian culture, but because I enjoy Roy's writing style from the start. The images of "red banana's ripen[ing]" in the "fruity air" and "black crows gorg[ing] on bright mangoes" are enticing and exciting. At the same time, I get a sense of foreboding. There is also gloomy imagery present in the description of the "hot, brooding" and "humid" atmosphere. The "dissolute bluebottles" that "stun themselves against clear windowpanes and die" presents the reader with a very early example of death in the novel, which sets me up to anticipate some form of pain or suffering throughout the course of the novel that follows. Either way, I look forward to experiencing an author I have never read before and seeing what she has to offer.

To learn more about Arundhati Roy as an author and her other work, visit this website.