Sense of Obligation

As a member of a reading group, should one feel obliged to read the books? This is a question that I have thought about from time to time, often when I am struggling to get through a book. But I think that in order to really answer this question, it is necessary to consider a number of issues. First of all, what is the intention of the reading group? Is it just an excuse to get together? (I do believe that many groups are often a guise for social get togethers, recalling the 'Melrose Place' nights that I used to attend that were more or less an excuse to eat pizza, drink wine and gossip!). Or is it an opportunity to be exposed to books of different authors and genres that one otherwise might never have read (broaden one's horizons)? Alternatively, does one look at reading groups from a more academic perspective, using it as an opportunity to develop critical reading skills (ha, yeah right!)? I can imagine though that different groups will have a different objectives, but most will probably see it as a combination of the first two. In this case, most members are committed to reading the selected books, and will probably make a good effort to read somewhere between 50 and 80%. However, having picked up a book and started reading it, is there an obligation to finish it? This again is probably dependent on a number of factors. Excluding time limitations, I guess the main reasons for not wanting to finish a book could be based on moral grounds (that the book repulses you, for example) or that you are finding it hard going (whether the plot disinterests you, or that it is too wordy etc). Should one be expected to put these issues aside and continue with the book? This, of course, very much comes down to individual preference. I would not want anyone to read a book that they found personally confronting. However, in my opinion, the books that are hard going are worth persisting with. Why do I say this? Because I believe that this can also play an important part in the eventual discussion of the book. Although it is great when everyone enjoys the book and is full of enthusiasm during the discussion (particularly when you are the one who has chosen the book), differences of opinion can often make for more interesting discussions. I think that it is often not what was good about the book that is of interest, but rather what was not so good. In this case, a difference of opinion can raise some interesting issues that one might not have otherwise thought about. I was looking at some of the 'objectives' of different reading groups and came across one that suggested that there is a difference between a 'good read' and a 'good book for discussion'. I would even go so far to suggest that there is a difference in reading for pleasure and reading for a book club. But, don't get me wrong. I am not suggesting that we should only choose 'difficult' books to read, and be forced to read them. But I do think that once in a while, it can be good (possibly even character building? (no pun intended ;)) to finish a book that you don't particularly enjoy.

Intepreter Of Maladies (4)

This one's been kind of beaten up already, but I'll add some thoughts anyway.

In a nutshell... it made me think of Buddhist statues.

Probably not Pulitzer Prize worthy, I definitely enjoyed discussing this one more than I enjoyed reading it. I feel that I read too much into the theme of these stories; taking the concept of "interpreter of maladies" as being the reader - the author presents people and their situations without critique, constructing a basis of information upon which we make our own judgements. I took the shallow character engagement as a deliberate treatment so as to not lead the reader to a particular point of view.

I found the values and themes of the stories to be quite foreign to my personal life experience (I'm not referring to the cultural sense). This seemed somewhat at odds with the interpretation that most readers had whereby they saw the stories as everyday human events. I nearly gave up on the book at one point for this very reason.

There's not much value in going down to the level of individual story reviews, but it was whilst reading "This Blessed House" that I started thinking about cultural heritage and the responsibilities of preservation (i.e. who is responsible for preserving the cultural history of one since passed?). I knew I was meandering to a tangent for I doubt this was an intentional theme of the author; although it was alluded to in the Intepreter Of Maladies story (where I knew trouble was brewing the moment they mentioned monkeys - cheeky little things they are). A number of years ago I was terribly angered when Taliban forces destroyed ancient Buddhist statues in Afghanistan and my mental wanderings took me back to that memory.

Another theme of "This Blessed House" was that of the futile rage of ineffective masculinity, but of course I don't really know anything about that :-)

Like previous posts mention, the short story idea was a refreshing change and I learned a key lesson from these tales...

"You shouldn't judge people based on where they live, that's what they do in Russia"




The two little black dots near the bottom (central) are people sitting down.

Currently reading . . .

August: Interpreter of Maladies (3)

This is a slightly edited version of my post on Forge & Brew from 10 August.

I read five of the nine stories in Jhumpa Lahiri's collection. I found them an enjoyable and easy read, filled with interesting insights into Indian culture, as well as human character in general. However, on the downside, I found them all quite similar in tone if not subject matter, and my emotional engagement with the character was more or less non-existent.

We talked in the meeting about the latter point quite a bit. One point raised was that perhaps the emotional distance was intentional, so that the reader might place his/her own interpretation on events as they unfold (in keeping with the title of the collection). Someone else postulated that the distance reflected Indian culture.

I am certain that the distance was intentional, but whether for these or another reason I'm not sure. Whatever the reason, it did influence my overall enjoyment of the stories. As a reader, I really like to get into the head of characters and feel a close emotional connection. But with these stories, that didn't happen at all. It may have been partly to do with the fact that characters were often referred to as Mr or Mrs . . ., even the viewpoint character. And even those few stories written in first person had the narrator act as an observer, without really engaging in the plot. In some cases, these viewpoint characters were children.

Another element we discussed was the style of ending featured in these stories. Coming from a SF background, I expect momentous revelation, unpredictable twists, but these stories seemed to just peter out with a whimper. In fact, in many there was no clear story goal or conflict etc. Certainly they carried you through in an engaging manner, but it's hard to say what was doing the pulling. And the endings did seem to fade away. At best they could be described as reflective, poignant. Why is this acceptable in a Pulitzer prize winning collection and not in a SF short story?

I believe we also discussed the Pulitzer prizeworthiness of the collection. I thought the writing itself, which some described as being 'simple', as being beautiful in its simplicity. Really elegant and transparent, an effortless read. Some attributed the emotional distance to the simplicity of the language, but I don't think it was that at all.

In general, people seemed to have read at least half the stories and have enjoyed them, and I think all agreed that it was good to have read and discussed a book of short stories as a change.

Interpreter of Maladies - Hayley's thoughts

I managed to pick up a copy of the book from the library, and immediately from reading the first line of the blurb on the back of the book, I was intrigued.

'Jhumpa Lahiri's elegant stories tell the lives of Indians in exile, of people navigating between the strict traditions they've inherited and the baffling New World they must encounter every day.'

I have seen Indian friends of mine go through similar types of situations, and so I was looking forward to seeing how Lahiri would portray this in her stories. However, I shouldn't read a book with preconceived expectations, as it always seems to let me down. These short stories were easy to read and entertaining, but for me, they didn't always capture the emotion that I was expecting. I could not connect to many of the characters, and I think that this is partly due to the way Lahiri portrayed them. Her writing style is almost distant, as though she is observing these people from afar. As a result, I found that the characters seemed to lack personality and I found myself feeling emotionally detached from them. I am not sure if this was somewhat intentional, as a means of highlighting their isolation. I have my doubts.

As for being stories of Indians in exile, in some cases I thought that the stories could have applied to almost anyone (A Temporary Matter, Sexy and This Blessed House, for example). Just change the name, and you could equally imagine very similar situations taking place almost anywhere in the world. There are cultural differences in the way people cope with being away from their own country, and Lahiri didn't always captured this in her stories.

For me, the best story was 'Mrs Sen's'. I could really image how isolated Mrs Sen must have felt, by not having her support network, and the comforts of home around her. There is also a difference in how people cope with living away from home, depending on whether they chose to leave, or were more or less forced to move away. In my experience, my female Indian friends who moved to another country to be with their husbands seem to have the most difficulty adjusting. When you chose to move to a new place, you mentally and emotionally prepare yourself for the experience and you are usually willing to invest the energy to make it work. The same does not always apply to those who are displaced for other reasons (which includes for a partner and employment reasons).

After reading the book, it did surprise me that it was awarded the Pulitzer prize. Although nicely written, I think that there are other similar types of books that are better at depicting the lives of outsiders. I was perusing the reviews on Amazon, many of which seem to suggest that Lahiri had hit on a fashionable topic - Indians living in the USA. The skeptic in me would tend to agree.