This book was an unusual choice for me. The author had
previously won a prize for her last book, but I hadn’t read that before picking
up this one. The choice was entirely motivated by the fact that a friend of
mine (who is from Bangladesh) had read this book, thought it was alright, and
wrote about it on his blog.
The Ministry of Utmost
Happiness always seemed to be lacking something. It starts with the story
of Anjum, a Hijra (someone who belongs to a third gender) who moves into a
graveyard. From there it goes to Tilo and the various men who have loved her
throughout her life, and then finally to the two Miss Jebeens. The first buried
in a cemetery, the second found on a street corner.
The most compelling part of the book is probably the way
these different storylines are woven together. Life in contemporary India and the
impact of conflict is woven through these people’s lives, and in the way the
characters intersect. But it doesn’t quite go far enough with it. For example,
all of the sections are written in third person, except for a couple chapters
from Tilo’s landlord, which are in first person. As far as I can tell, there’s
no real reason for the difference. His story could have been told in third
person as well, which bothers me. Usually there’s a reason for differences in
narration.
The writing style in general is decent, but I wouldn’t say
it was distinctive. If you imagine an author writing about India and trying
perhaps a little too hard to make grandiose statements about life, then you’ve
pretty much nailed this one. It isn’t a bad writing style, it just seems so…
typical. It isn’t really unique in any sense. It’s a style more suited for
pulling quotes from than really reading.
The general meaning of the book wasn’t quite clear. It ends
with Miss Jebeen the Second being raised by a rag-tag group of people, giving
them hope for the future. All of the other characters had gone through such
hardships though, there is not really any other indication about it. Miss
Jebeen v2 also is never developed as a character. All we know about her has
come second hand through a letter from her original mother. Not exactly the
most compelling for her as a character of hope.
Also, maybe I missed it, but what is the Ministry of Utmost
Happiness? There is a chapter entitled that towards the end of the book, but
happiness is always something that the characters have to make themselves
rather than anyone giving it to them. It only comes once Anjum makes a home for
them all to live within the graveyard, bringing together the dead and the
living. But as far as I could tell there was no “ministry” involved in any
sense. Am I being obtuse or what?
Since Roy did win a prize for The God of Small Things, that book might be more coherent. There
are good pieces of this work, they are just buried within a sea of confusion. I
do hope that she writes more, since she clearly is good at telling stories,
they just appear to be lost in translation (note: this book wasn’t translated,
I checked).
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