Sunday, June 09, 2019

A Suitable Boy: Just Perfect for Me



Picked up this giant of a book on a whim without pausing to think how I’d finish reading it. After a six-month struggle, I finally managed to finish it and I’m glad. (Much to the chagrin of my family, lugged it to every trip I took this year.)
On the face of it, The Suitable Boy is a story about a girl looking for a… well, suitable boy. Lata belongs to a simple but well-read family of refined tastes. The family consists of a doting but overbearing mother, a sweet sister and two brothers who are like chalk and cheese.

Set in the year 1951-1952, the book is much, much more than Lata’s quest. There are many absorbing subplots involving the girl, Lata’s extended family, including her siblings, their in-laws and their families. There are stories of politics, of music, of business and of relationships. Apart from music, I found the political references very interesting because I’ve never paid much attention to the political history of India. Seth has explored every possible kind of relationship with great understanding and gentleness, be it friends, lovers, elderly couples, young couples or colleagues.

Lata’s mother is a carbon copy of a lady I knew—an overly sentimental type who loved sending and receiving long letters and greeting cards. Someone who could hurt or be pleased with the smallest of things.
Meenakshi’s (Lata’s sister-in-law) quirky family made me happy and kept me eagerly looking forward to chapters about them.
I personally loved the plot involving Maan Kapoor (Lata’s brother-in-law’s brother). My heart went out to him and his family. Having been accustomed to romantic twists of plot, I kept hoping for favourable twists in Maan’s life. I cared much for his father, Mahesh Kapoor too. (I imagined Adil Hussain playing this role in a film/web series.)

Having lived with and invested so much in the characters, and being a die-hard romantic, I must say I'm a tad disappointed with the ending but then, every writer owns his story and has a right to end it to match the philosophy of that story.

Vikram Seth being what he is, throws the most unexpected turns at you. “Sensitive people are usually insensitive” goes a telling line in the book. More than the plot and storyline, Seth’s language and style had me floored. Like I have said in an earlier post, he has a gift of infusing poetry into his prose. And at the same time, he can convey the strongest of emotions in the simplest of ways.
Two old (and elderly) friends talking to each other:
“So, you’ll come for lunch tomorrow?”
“Yes, yes. What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion. Just do me the favour of sitting silently through the meal and hearing me complain about how much better things were in the old days.”
“All right.”

Seth knows exactly what words to use at any given time. For learners like me, his style is infused with numerous examples of 'show, don’t tell'.
Sample this: The rock-like delicacies were lurking in the other room. I will say no further.
And what caught me by surprise is his amazing sense of humour. He has used humour and wit so generously in this book that I could go on citing examples. If you are planning to read the book, look out for the incident at the bus-stop involving two wailing ladies. And then there’s the incident of a villainous but distraught Prof Mishra. He is feigning a conversation with a doctor on the phone but is actually getting the election results. Mishra asks the person on the phone, “So where can I meet you?” The person on the other end of the phone simply says, “In the casualty ward.” Oh, and of course there are the 'Kakoli-couplets' strewn amply to lighten the mood.

Seth draws up detailed character portraits of almost every character, significant or otherwise. Sometimes, he hands out every micro-thought of a character, making you awe at his insight into people’s psyche. Mr Seth appears to be one dangerous man to meet!

Another thing to look out for is the vivid, descriptive passages – ever so colourful and never boring, be it the Pul Mela or the shoe-factory episode. He writes as if he’s been there. Who knows? He might have even been there. (I've read several anecdotes about the research he does for his stories).
This book has been panned for rambling on with just a few pages of the main plot. I choose to look at it this way. It would be extremely limiting to look at the title just from the angle of Lata’s matrimonial dilemma. We have a young India looking for a suitable boy as a leader. We have the Chatterji family looking for a suitable boy to take on the reins. We have the University looking for a suitable boy to head its English Department and so on. I haven’t yet read any analysis of this book but I am sure all that research and thinking that Vikram Seth has put in is not in vain. Every anecdote has meaning and purpose and it is for us to find them.

If you have been wanting to read this book, I’d say, just take a deep breath and dive in. You are sure to find a lot of gems out there. Just have a lot of patience. I nodded in agreement when the character of Amit Chatterji says:
“But I too hate long books: the better, the worse. If they're bad they merely make me pant with the effort of holding them up for a few minutes. But if they're good, I turn into a social moron for days, refusing to go out of my room, scowling and growling at interruptions, ignoring weddings and funerals, and making enemies out of friends.”

PS: I read somewhere that Mira Nair will be making a web series of this book. I'm excited.
A line from the book

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