TIOL: Week 4, Chapters 46 - 53 and the Novel as a Whole

[Melissa_W Moderator]

Please discuss the entirety of The Inheritance of Loss in this thread.  Please remember this is a SPOILER FRIENDLY thread.

[Peppermill]

Spoiler warning if you aren't this far yet.  I have another full CD to go, but am beyond Chapter 45 at this point.

I am so sorry the little dog has disappeared.  I am still hoping he is not lost forever, but I am afraid for him.

Unusual for me to seemingly have more sympathy for an animal than humans, but somehow, the humans in this story so far have not been drawing forth much empathy from me.  Not certain why, because I do understand their stories are tough ones.  My reason can be sympathetic.  Just somehow, the emotional draw hasn't been there -- perhaps because many of the characters seem self-absorbed?

[Melissa_W Moderator]

I'm not as far as you but I really only sympathize with Sai so far.   She seems very caught in the middle.

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Peppermill wrote:

Spoiler warning if you aren't this far yet.  I have another full CD to go, but am beyond Chapter 45 at this point.

Unusual for me to seemingly have more sympathy for an animal than humans, but somehow, the humans in this story so far have not been drawing forth much empathy from me.  Not certain why, because I do understand their stories are tough ones.  My reason can be sympathetic.  Just somehow, the emotional draw hasn't been there -- perhaps because many of the characters seem self-absorbed?

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[Peppermill]

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Melissa_W wrote:

I'm not as far as you but I really only sympathize with Sai so far.   She seems very caught in the middle.

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I can understand that perspective for Sai.  She is such a lonely abandoned waif throughout the story, yet at one point, she steps up to not feeling sorry for herself.

In all, for me, it was a terribly sad tale set in an incredibly beautiful physical setting, at least in India.  The final indignity for Biju (sp?) WAS even worse that of poor Mutzi (sp?).  To have travelled so far, to have tried so hard, and to have nothing except his life and the love of his father.  (I am writing this without the book nearby, and I mostly listened to this story.)

What do we think is the meaning or interpretation of the title?  That each generation has loss, and the next generation "inherits" the same pattern?

Has anyone read the book by Anita Desai which has a character considered similar to Jemubhai Patel?  The following is from Kiran's Wikipedia entry:

"Kiran Desai's Jemubhai Patel in Inheritance of Loss and her mother, Anita Desai's Nanda Kaul in Fire on the mountain have some similarities. Both of them want to lead a secluded life. They don't want to be disturbed by others. Their grandchild is the first one who disturbs their aloneness. At first, they feel the presence of their grandchild embarrassing. But, they gradually understand that there are certain similarities between them and their grandchildren. In the portrayal of Jemubhai Patel, Kiran Desai must have been inspired by the character, Nanda Kaul of her mother."  (Entry seems to have at least one grammatical error.)

[Fozzie]

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Melissa_W wrote:

I'm not as far as you but I really only sympathize with Sai so far.   She seems very caught in the middle.

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Peppermill wrote:

Unusual for me to seemingly have more sympathy for an animal than humans, but somehow, the humans in this story so far have not been drawing forth much empathy from me.  Not certain why, because I do understand their stories are tough ones.  My reason can be sympathetic.  Just somehow, the emotional draw hasn't been there -- perhaps because many of the characters seem self-absorbed?

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I can understand not feeling sympathetic towards some of the characters.  I didn't feel sorry for the sisters when the boys and others camped on their property.  I don't think the author meant for us to sympathize with them anyway, given the role they played in the overall story.  I think they were meant to represent a sort of people, not meant to be taken individually.

I felt sympathetic toward Sai.  How would you feel being stuck living with the judge and the cook?  After losing your parents?  And after being forced to attend boarding schools?  Awful!

How could you not feel sympathy for the cook?  He missed his son terribly, but just hoped for the best for him.  I wouldn't say the cook was an honorable man, but he was certainly not dishonorable either.

And Biju --- how could you not sympathize with him?  The way he was treated in the U.S. and then to lose everything he had worked for to the rebels...

Now, the judge...

even though we did come to learn a lot about him, enough to understand him, I really didn't sympathize with him.  If he had had a different personality type and/or attitude, things might have turned out differently for him.  After all, Bose was successful.

[Fozzie]

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Peppermill wrote:

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The final indignity for Biju (sp?) WAS even worse that of poor Mutzi (sp?).  To have travelled so far, to have tried so hard, and to have nothing except his life and the love of his father.  

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Isn't that part of the overall message of the book.  Things are fleeting.  One can be apart from loved ones, yet constantly be yearning for them.  Isn't all that we humans really need are love and acceptance?

[Fozzie]

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Peppermill wrote:

What do we think is the meaning or interpretation of the title?  That each generation has loss, and the next generation "inherits" the same pattern?

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Yes.  I think that a person will suffer somehow and then "pass it on."

For instance, we know that the judge suffered.  His words, actions, motivations, his whole being reflects his experiences.  He passes this sense of loss onto Sai by his initial rejection of her and through his inattantion to her.  She then experiences a loss of closeness, interaction, guidance, warmth, love, etc.

[Fozzie]

A few overall thoughts and a couple questions (from the reader’s guide):

I liked the last two sections of reading very much.  There was a plot and story line.  I do think we needed the background information presented in the other two sections to fully understand these last two sections, but I felt like I really had to go on faith that the book would somehow all come together, and it did.

A couple of times in the last sections of the book, I felt like the moralizing/big picture philosophizing was a bit too noticeable.

The cook is not referred to by name until the next-to-last page of the novel.  Why?

Will Sai leave Cho Oyu?

What do you all think of Gyan?

[Melissa_W Moderator]

That's a very good way to put it.  It feels like most of the book is a series of vignettes or short stories rather than a solid plot.

(And I'll answer your questions later - I'm not quite there!)

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Fozzie wrote:

A few overall thoughts and a couple questions (from the reader’s guide):

I liked the last two sections of reading very much.  There was a plot and story line.  I do think we needed the background information presented in the other two sections to fully understand these last two sections, but I felt like I really had to go on faith that the book would somehow all come together, and it did.

A couple of times in the last sections of the book, I felt like the moralizing/big picture philosophizing was a bit too noticeable.

The cook is not referred to by name until the next-to-last page of the novel.  Why?

Will Sai leave Cho Oyu?

What do you all think of Gyan?

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[Peppermill]

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Fozzie wrote:

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Melissa_W wrote:

I'm not as far as you but I really only sympathize with Sai so far.   She seems very caught in the middle.

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Peppermill wrote:

Unusual for me to seemingly have more sympathy for an animal than humans, but somehow, the humans in this story so far have not been drawing forth much empathy from me.  Not certain why, because I do understand their stories are tough ones.  My reason can be sympathetic.  Just somehow, the emotional draw hasn't been there -- perhaps because many of the characters seem self-absorbed?

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I can understand not feeling sympathetic towards some of the characters.  I didn't feel sorry for the sisters when the boys and others camped on their property.  I don't think the author meant for us to sympathize with them anyway, given the role they played in the overall story.  I think they were meant to represent a sort of people, not meant to be taken individually.

I felt sympathetic toward Sai.  How would you feel being stuck living with the judge and the cook?  After losing your parents?  And after being forced to attend boarding schools?  Awful!

How could you not feel sympathy for the cook?  He missed his son terribly, but just hoped for the best for him.  I wouldn't say the cook was an honorable man, but he was certainly not dishonorable either.

And Biju --- how could you not sympathize with him?  The way he was treated in the U.S. and then to lose everything he had worked for to the rebels...

Now, the judge...

even though we did come to learn a lot about him, enough to understand him, I really didn't sympathize with him.  If he had had a different personality type and/or attitude, things might have turned out differently for him.  After all, Bose was successful.

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I understand what you are saying, Laura, and largely agree.  I must have had my empathy machine turned off when I listened to this.  Maybe it was the tone of the recording, maybe it was me.  Somehow, I was like the reviewers who read The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks  and failed to have empathy for her family.  It was sort of like to some extent these people generated their own problems through their own lack of education, street savvy, or concern for others or their naïveté. And I do "know" that is unfair given the conditions available to them and the unfortunate things that happened to them, as well as given the overall political milieu of the period and place.

Reading the book will probably be "useful" to me in the long term by its description of those political considerations between ethnic groups in India.  For me, it did reinforce stereotypes of what it is like for immigrants entering the United States today.  Unfortunately, correctly or incorrectly, I do not see the same pressures or encouragement that characterized migrants early in the 1900's to assimilate, to become fluent in English, and to seek good education, if not for themselves, at least for their children -- at least as I experienced it within my own Midwestern Scandinavian-German family.  (Of course, here, the story is without that next generation, in part since Biju did not have legal status.)  As I said earlier, I think Nadine Gordimer's The Pickup  tells that story of the risks of immigration of those without significant resources to the United States more adroitly, albeit much less directly.

[Fozzie]

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Peppermill wrote:

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I understand what you are saying, Laura, and largely agree.  I must have had my empathy machine turned off when I listened to this.  Maybe it was the tone of the recording, maybe it was me.  Somehow, I was like the reviewers who read The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks  and failed to have empathy for her family.  It was sort of like to some extent these people generated their own problems through their own lack of education, street savvy, or concern for others or their naïveté. And I do "know" that is unfair given the conditions available to them and the unfortunate things that happened to them, as well as given the overall political milieu of the period and place.

Reading the book will probably be "useful" to me in the long term by its description of those political considerations between ethnic groups in India.  For me, it did reinforce stereotypes of what it is like for immigrants entering the United States today.  Unfortunately, correctly or incorrectly, I do not see the same pressures or encouragement that characterized migrants early in the 1900's to assimilate, to become fluent in English, and to seek good education, if not for themselves, at least for their children -- at least as I experienced it within my own Midwestern Scandinavian-German family.  (Of course, here, the story is without that next generation, in part since Biju did not have legal status.)  As I said earlier, I think Nadine Gordimer's The Pickup  tells that story of the risks of immigration of those without significant resources to the United States more adroitly, albeit much less directly.

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I agree that many of the people did generate their own problems to some extent.

Biju did go to the U.S. legally.  He had a visa.  See pages 199-205.  However, he did not have a green card, which would allow him to stay in the U.S.  

I agree that the immigrant experiences portrayed in this novel are very different from those stories of immigration at the turn of the 20th century.  Even though Biju was in the U.S. legally, he lived in horrible conditions and was taken advantage of.  The contrast between Biju's actual life in the U.S. and the imagined life the cook thought he had was a great source of irony.  Hard as it was to read of Biju's experiences in the U.S., I did find them believable.  

Biju seemed willing to work hard to make it in the U.S., but he had no support system.  Since everyone he knew was struggling, relatives were unable and unwilling to help each other.  I found that difference to be one of the biggest differences between immigration at the turn of the 20th century as compared with at the time of the novel.

I haven't read The Pickup.

[Peppermill]

"Please look at these opening lines:

"All day, the colors had been those of dusk, mist moving like a water creature across the great flanks of mountains possesed of ocean shadows and depths. Briefly visible above the vapor, Kanchenjunga was a far peak whittled out of ice, gathering the last of the light, a plume of snow blown high by the storms at its summit.

"Sai, sitting on the veranda, was reading an article about giant squid in an old National Geographic. Every now and then she looked up at Kanchenjunga, observed its wizard phosphorescence with a shiver. The judge sat at the far corner with his chessboard, playing against himself. Stuffed under his chair where she felt safe was Mutt the dog, snoring gently in her sliip. A single bald lightbulb dangled on a wire above. It was cold, but inside the house, it was still colder, the dark, the freeze, contained by stone walls several feet deep.

"Let's look at all the things the author does well here. First, there is that dizzying plunge from the bright mountain sky to the dark ocean home of the giant squid. Mountains and sky, deep ocean depths; this signals to the reader that the novel will offer a vast range of emotion and experience, and that it will do so in surprising and dynamic ways. Then, there is the clever surprise that a "native" in a faraway Eastern land -- the type of person who is more likely to be the subject of a National Geographic article than the reader -- is placidly browsing a magazine that symbolizes the benevolent condescension of Western imperialist culture. This signals that we are reading a book of sly, subtle wit. Finally -- and this may be a stretch, but probably isn't -- the fact that the National Geographic article is about a giant squid recalls Herman Melville's Moby Dick, since giant squids are what sperm whales eat.

"Yes, this is a hell of an opening sequence, and when I encounter a book that starts like this I feel thrilled and excited and I can't wait to keep reading. Of course, these paragraphs were not written by Cormac McCarthy. They were written by Kiran Desai, and they begin The Inheritance of Loss."

Came across this today by Levi Asher on the following site:

http://www.litkicks.com/HatingMcCarthy

Considered it worthy of sharing.  It notices serveral details that slipped right past me.