“Niemand ist mehr Sklave, als der sich für frei hält, ohne es zu sein.
None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they ar
“Niemand ist mehr Sklave, als der sich für frei hält, ohne es zu sein.
None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free.� � Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Elective Affinities
Having been a reader since I guess forever, books for me fall into two categories; one that blow me away and one that don’t; books that are perfect in every sense and those that aren’t; books that have strong stories that move me and those that don’t; simply � books that I love and those that I don’t. However, very rarely, I do stumble upon a few that leave me mystified as they don’t fit any of these categories. They are those square pegs of life that I desperately want to fit into round holes and alas they don’t, they won’t, they can’t. However, while the fit of these square pegs might be difficult, they aren’t all that impossible to like or feel overwhelmed by. Zoe Heller’s The Believers is one such square peg, which try as I might, I can’t fit and yet it seems a perfect fit, a dichotomy if ever there was one.
Recommended by a good friend Vimal and then endorsed by my own little group here, this book had all the makings of a great read, one that I couldn’t ignore or resist. Being quite the flighty reader, it honestly didn’t take much pursuing or convincing on their part to start this book. However, it did take a little bit of convincing on my part to continue it and finish it.
Joel Litvinoff and his wife Audrey are the crassest, most abrasive, most opinionated, and the most ill equipped set of parents that I have ever read about in a book; and let me tell you I have read some really bad ones there. I didn’t get their attraction towards each other or even the reason why they got married in the first place and then went on to amplify that mistake by having kids and worse adopting another. However, on the other hand, they are the most fascinating characters in this book, especially Audrey. Her inflammatory words, her derisive nature, her flamboyance, her arrogance, her lack of maternal love, her disdain for her family, especially her two daughters � oh the list goes on and on and yet she is delightful because of all that. Coming to the other characters, the two daughters Rosa and Karla and the son Lenny as well as the most irritating Mike, who happens to be Karla’s husband; they are all superbly irritating and wondrously horrible and what’s more is that they believe that they are truly free, when, in reality, they aren’t. And yet, despite creating some of the most awful characters, Ms. Heller has managed to create a book that is not only profound but absolutely spellbinding, a true page turner if there ever was one.
My first experience of Ms. Heller was with her book, Notes on a Scandal, and despite loving the premise of the book, I just couldn’t appreciate it for its lack of depth. However, for me, Ms. Heller has truly exonerated herself in this book with her vivid and detailed insight into marriage, family, religion and politics and their influence on an individual. Using a motley crew of some of the most irritating characters, she manages to deal with issues like identity, faith, belief, trust, humanity and most importantly love for oneself.
Through this dysfunctionality, she shows us that human beings are not independent and individual islands, even if they believe that they are. She makes us question the very basis of who we are and where we come from to make us find an answer to where we are going. Whether it is Rosa turning to religion or Karla finding solace with another, she shows that even the most independent aren’t free from the need to belong, the need to seek and get respect from another, the desire to be self confident and to prove to themselves that they can � can do and achieve what they want, despite all obstacles or maybe because of them.
The derogatory, often vile and most insulting conversations that take place between the members of this family shed light on various truths of life that one usually brushes under the carpet. Whether it is dealing with extra marital affairs, drug addiction, religious dogmas, socialistic viewpoints, societal faux pas; the dialogue is acerbic and yet stunningly beautiful. The author with her direct tone manages to grab you by the collar and make you look up and listen well, which I feel is the most wonderful aspect of this book. The pain that resonates through the medium of these words is raw and totally unbridled, often lending a certain poignancy to the story, even if you don’t really feel that for the character.
Despite having a motley of horrible characters and a plot that is soap opera worthy, Ms. Heller nevertheless, manages to sustain your attention and active participation in this book, which to me is a mark of great writing and a good book. It is something worth experiencing even when it is tedious; and a lesson worth learning, even when it is hidden within acerbic wit. I won’t call it pleasure reading for it isn’t but then it gives you a pleasure of its own. Worth every minute spent on it.
I had huge expectations from this one, especially after enjoying the snarky and wonderful 84 Charring Cross. However, I was disappointed. Where the siI had huge expectations from this one, especially after enjoying the snarky and wonderful 84 Charring Cross. However, I was disappointed. Where the sights and history of London is definitely interesting, the breezy nature of the writing, which was at times quite irritating and at other times quite insufficient made it lacklustre.
I don't compare books but this is one where I couldn't stop myself from making comparisons. While I accept that the book is a diary and as such diary entries don't really have the coherence of any other form of writing, I still felt that this one did not transfer to me the excitement and sheer joy that Ms. Hanff must have felt on visiting London. Her words seemed forced and her vigour even more so. Her interactions seemed rushed, which could be attributed to the form of writing, but nevertheless there was no development of relationships beyond these mere words. And I missed that a lot, given that 84 CC was one where you could find immense meaning and richness behind those words.
To me London is fascinating, for parts it is quite similar to what Ms. Hanff thought about the city and for others it is something more. Somehow, I couldn't feel myself relating to this experience of the city that I have grown to love through books and movies. Where it should have exhilarated and enhanced my wish to experience the city, it left me feeling unmoved.
I won't say that there aren't any good parts in this book but at the same time, I don't think I can clearly say what those are. All in all, I am quite disappointed with this one, especially as I took nearly a week to complete what should ideally have been read in a few hours. The fact that it almost put me off reading for these past few days made it even worse. It was with sheer determination to finish and not leave it half read that I have managed to do so today.
I need to go find a another book that will erase this memory, at least for now. ...more
“Who am I?� she asked, “What am I?� she pondered Bound by the chains of responsibility, Dragged down by the burden called life, Meaning and purpose, lost“Who am I?� she asked, “What am I?� she pondered Bound by the chains of responsibility, Dragged down by the burden called life, Meaning and purpose, lost forever, Existing for another, with no choice I ask myself, what am I?
Am I just a daughter? Or merely a lowly employee? What is my status? What are my rights? Where lies my purpose? Where lies my meaning? Do I even have a right?
An extension is all I am, An extension to the limbs of another Born into this life I was Borne with love, I thought Mysteries surround me, Surreal and unpronounceable ones, I feel, Just like my last name, The only thing that marks my fame, Unpronounceable as it is, It’s also something I inherited, Am I the person I think I am Or am I the person the world believes me to be? Who am I, asked Sophie, with an unpronounceable last name, Just tell me, who I am!
I came into this world through love, I came into this world to be loved, How then did I lose what was mine? How then did life change the way it did? Star crossed lovers, I can understand; But star crossed family? o please explain, Why did this love change? Where did this love disappear?
Why is there nothingness around? Where did it all go wrong? When did it all go wrong? Why did it all go wrong? Questions and questions are all I have, As answers, they only stay hidden, Some answers beget more questions, While some are best confusing. Who am I, o please tell me, What am I, o please let me know.
And so, begins Deborah Levy’s book, Hot Milk. A book that is not so much a story as much as it is a journey. A journey seeking a better understanding of the purpose and reason for existence. A journey that is full of bittersweet memories, angst and complete disillusionment that comes only through rejection. Who am I, is perhaps the most important question that Sophie asks throughout this book. This ‘I� constitutes her raison d’etre for living, her own sexuality, her needs and wants, which are often not met but most importantly, this ‘I� is a need to find her place in her family. What role does she play in the lives of her parents, is perhaps the most important question she has.
Abandoned by a father at a tender age, Sophie loses meaning of the word family quite early in her life. Living with a hypochondriac mother increases her angst and pain as she often feels like she is an extension of her mother’s limbs. Levy’s hypnotic writing takes us deep into Sophie’s psyche, where she is often looking at others for either approval or leadership. Just as our limbs don’t move without a direct command from the brain, so also does Sophie not act, unless someone has asked her to specifically do something.
Often one feels that Sophie isn’t ready to come out of that cocoon in which she has been smothered and chained by her mother’s hypochondriasis. Rather than emerge like a butterfly, she seems content in that caterpillar stage, which is more comforting and more importantly it is the known. Setting out to find a cure for her mother’s mysterious illness brings Sophie to a stage where she must come out of that cocoon.
The dilemma that Sophie faces, when asked by the doctor treating her mother to leave her mother alone for the days she spends in the hospital, is truly heartrending. As someone who has always been independent in thought as well as action, it was difficult for me to comprehend or even empathise with a person like Sophie. However, when she was at this crossroad, my heart truly went out to her, for here was a person who has never ever had candy and was given entry into a candy store. Where would she go? What would she do? How would she live? All those questions came into my mind and Sophie’s. Ms. Levy set an impeccable stage for Sophie to look beyond being an entity or an extension and seek the knowledge and courage that will make her independent. Whether Sophie succeeds in getting what she wants is not as important as the road that she travels when searching for what she wants.
How often in life do we come to a crossroad where we feel as lost as Sophie? Or to make it more comfortable to all those who don’t like to introspect, how often do we come to a stage where we are quite confused? Various triggers can enable this confusion, including, job, studies, relationships, just about anything. Now imagine a person having this confusion in all spheres at the same time? We would call him or her a poor soul and leave it at that, but that poor soul is what Sophie depicts. Understanding a person’s psyche goes beyond the surface into the deep dark corners of our own self and I must say that Ms. Levy has done a great job of portraying that confusion, that dilemma, that feeling of being lost, so beautifully that you often have tears in your eyes. Even when the rambling is weird, she manages to bring out the dichotomy that Sophie faces, whether it is her own sexuality or her own place in the family or her place in the world at large. Each step she takes brings her towards understanding herself better and towards gaining the confidence to emerge out of that cocoon and fly like a butterfly.
Ms. Levy’s book is not for those who are looking to read a happy or even a sad story with a proper beginning, middle and end. When I say this, I do not mean that this book doesn’t have all that. It has all that but its true beauty lies in the deeper meaning that can only be sought by ignoring the surface and plunging deep. Allowing yourself to be transported into Sophie’s world, her brain, her heart, her mind, is perhaps the best way to truly understand and love this book. I must say that Ms. Levy’s prose truly did that for me. She held me under a spell for the entire time and even today, days after finishing the book, I am still under that spell. Let me leave you with a small quote by Betty Freidan that perhaps best describes and is the answer to the millions of Sophies that exist today;
� It is easier to live through someone else than to complete yourself. The freedom to lead and plan your own life is frightening if you have never faced it before. It is frightening when a woman finally realizes that there is no answer to the question 'who am I' except the voice inside herself.�
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