After weeks of near-zero (Fahrenheit) temperatures and so much snow (more than we have ever received in years), we are now in the 50s and it's looking that way for all of next week, woo hoo! Life We seem to have settled into a routine around here. Work has calmed down a bit as well, so you'd think that all this means I should be reading more or dabble in things that sound fun. Sadly no. While I still much relish being able to work from home and having kids safe in school, it would be nice to be able to socialize more with no worry of the virus. Yesterday, we all went for a long walk out in the beautiful weather. On our way, we passed by the park we spent so much time in last year but didn't venture inside because there were so many people in there. I look forward to the day we don't need to do that. Spring break is coming soon and we are seriously considering safe vacation options. We don't have any grand ideas at the moment but we'll be thinking about it more.
I first read Jhumpa Lahiri years ago, when her Interpreter of Maladies was making a huge buzz. At the time, I didn't catch any of the buzz, but for some reason, when I saw the book on the shelf at the store I was browsing in, I felt it just might be a decent read. Funnily, I read the entire short story collection without complaining about it, but for some reason, I cannot read any collection anymore without agonizing over its disjoint nature.
I did enjoy Interpreter of Maladies, but I did get bothered by the thread of loneliness and infidelity and distrust that laced through the stories. For that reason, I have been reluctant to read Unaccustomed Earth. However, when I came across Hell-Heaven at the NewYorker - a free short story from her book, I decided to go ahead and read it. I can't resist the pull of stories set in India or featuring Indian characters, and it is that same aspect that hooked me throughout this story.
In Hell-Heaven, the narrator contemplates the relationship between her mother and a friend of her parents'. Pranab Chakraborty was a fellow Bengali who met the narrator's parents when he was a graduate student at MIT. The narrator's mother, Aparna, developed a soft corner for Pranab and would wait for those moments when he would visit them. (Her own husband had given himself completely over to work.) Over time, she began to feel a deep affection for him, but being a married woman, she drew the line there. Still, when Pranab falls in love with an American woman, Aparna reacts poorly, waiting for Pranab's girlfriend to leave him. Pranab and his girlfriend however get married, leaving Aparna to nurse some deep resentment for the couple.
Despite the unsaid and unacknowledged feelings that Aparna had for Pranab, there is nothing in the story to make one uncomfortable or judgmental. I found Hell-Heaven to be a nice character-focused story, with Aparna being the main focal point. There is not much in the way of a plot, but there is enough to move the story along and leave you feeling for the characters. I did however, feel that the story was a typical Jhumpa Lahiri fare. There are her usual elements of loss, love, yearning and family. I kind of knew where it was going, but I didn't mind the predictability because the lyrical prose held a lot of emotion. Is that emotional manipulation?
Still, I enjoyed the story because I could relate to the middle-class status of the family - their need to move away from orthodox customs and yet struggling to cut those threads away because what did they have if not those customs? And like other immigrants, their desire to be accepted is very palpable - they are treated as foreigners both in India and in the US - where then is home?
I read this book online on the NewYorker. Go ahead and read it.
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