One last note: The iceberg

In trying to look at the book from a psychoanalytical perspective, I noticed that by using en media res Kirchner has given ample opportunity for one to analyze the book as whole in terms of the questionable but still somewhat sensible iceberg theorem-- the id, the ego, and the superego. The conflicts of the characters can be viewed in this manner as well as large chunks of the plot.

It can be said that Nina is the superego of the iceberg system of characters. Not only does she try to keep all relations amicable (and it IS her 81st birthday during the current plot line of the story), but also, she tries to forge the relationships themselves. Nina's attempt to reconcile many of the characters could also make her an ego of sorts among several different conflicting ids and super egos.

However, better suited to the book in terms of psychoanalytical examination is the concept of anima versus animus. I saw this moment very close to the end of the book when the two sisters reunite while cooking. During this part, they reveal their frustrations with each and Sujata, usually a "tough woman," finally shows a sign of weakness through her "crumpled face" as she accidentally touches on a sensitive subject about her affair with Pranab, which could be viewed as the anima creeping out onto her animus or masculine exterior, as upon the sisters' return to Darjeeling suddenly Sujata seems to be the hardier one of the two.

Or perhaps the roles have been switched in terms of masculinity and feminineness among Aloka, Pranab, and Sujata.  Pranab's weakness and inability to defend for himself or help himself back in Darjeeling would most likely represent the anima, whereas Aloka and Sujata dominate over Pranab in his weakness (having overcome his duplicity of both of them, naturally) and shows what could be viewed as strength or masculinity, represented by the animus.

Defensive mechanisms also seem to have a role in the book. During their lives in North America, Sujata and Aloka seem to have undergone sublimation, transforming any pain they had into their work (Though this is mainly Sujata) and allowing them to release any hard feelings that they have against Pranab and eventually each other. Occasionally, however, Aloka will project her feelings of not being able to be a good wife to Pranab in her anger about their relationship (this is what I assume at least). But more importantly, the entire book is about the sublimation of the sisters as they are able to move onto bigger and better things.

Transcendentalism in Darjeeling

As I discussed in a post about Seva and may have implied in another post of Pranab, I sense strong hints of Transcendentalist ideas or morphisms of it in the book-- or at least, in revisiting Pranab's quote on page 294 when he describes himself to Sujata as a changed man who know looks at life objectively and through a different pair of eyes. He has accepted that being "ordinary" does not make him any less individual, and still let him become a part of something. In other words, he has found the balance between the Oversoul, and his own individual soul (which I forgot what it was called.) This is understandably connected to the fact that Transcendentalism, as I also mentioned in the first post (unless I didn't) is based off some ideas in Hinduism.

Emerson's belief that we should examine ourselves through nature is re-imagined through the power of food in the story, as the food cooked by Jahar brings out his soul-- he speaks through how he tweaks his food to his own liking. Also, food revives memories of the past for all the characters, allowing them to reflect back on their past and look at it with a new pair of eyes.The food gives the opportunity for the characters to ruminate, it indicates the passage of time as the characters grow, especially Aloka, Sujata, and Pranab. As they go on, the food change meaning along with them, signifying the flux of personal viewpoints within transcendentalism, which encourages personal growth and constant flux.

It should also be noted that, though this is definitely a bit much, that there are parts where the characters compare themselves or their situations to that of deity, namely Nina, who often prays to the gods and compares herself to them throughout he book, often asking them for forgiveness as she feels responsible for having torn apart the family, even though part of it was due to the anger of Bir, The Gupta sisters' now-deceased father. Then again, this could mainly be a more cultural aspect about religion and being able to atone for your sins, namely, that is, if you are Hindu, if you would like to seek out a better next life.

But back to transcendentalism. This could also go back into Jahar and Aloka's relationship, if Jahar is seen as a symbol for Aloka's heart or spirit. The fact that Aloka gradually comes to accept as she develops and matures as a characters demonstrates her inner growth in a more... well, human form. By rekindling a romance with Jahar, it seems like she is bonding even more closely with her inner spirit in order to get in better touch with herself, instead of pursuing aliases like Parveen and Seva.

Pranab the (not so) Tragic Hero.

It's hard to say if Pranab completely fits the criteria of being a tragic hero, because he seems like he's pretty happy by the end of the book. Oh, and he's not dead. Like Mreenal, he has been removed from the complicated web of Sujata, Aloka, and Nina, no longer to meddle in with their lives (this is symbolized by their inability to make it to the party)

Larger than life:
Pranab is an idealist. Though he starts from humble beginnings, he proves himself to be a prodigy in terms of term according to Aloka and Sujata's father, and is well rehearsed in Sanskirt and poetic language and customs, as well as music and dance, which attracts Aloka and Sujata to him. Pranab is also determined to become a greatleader as he eventually plans a worker's rebellion within Aloka and Sujata's family tea business in order to give better rights to the workers.

Tragic flaw:
Aside from hubris (Shown by Pranab's anger at the insolence of New Yorkers, and his increasing frustration with not being able to secure great, influential jobs in America), Pranab's greatest flaw is his own fear. He is unable to face difficulties and instead recedes into his shell once he has lost control. As stated by Aloka to Pranab:

"And, I must say, you were a very attractive man, even as recently as that time in Brooklyn when I saw you dancing. I saw then how powerful you still could be, and I told myself it wasn't that you lacked talent, energy, or intellect. It was just your self-pitying attitude, and if that could be corrected, I was sure you could make a go of it in New York. Then you'd hold no bitterness toward me or feel threatened by my strength and adaptability." (270) (Right after this Pranab has his moment of anagnorisis.)

Driven by an impossible dream:
One of Pranab's impossible dreams seems to be to regain as much control as he has over the workers in Darjeeling back in New York-- he has been disillusioned, perhaps, by the prospects of the American Dream (Gatsby, anyone?) Another impossible dream he has involves trying to relive the past. He really wants Sujata back, even though Sujata has long overcome what has happened before and can now rise above it.

Expects more than the world can give:
Well, this is also evidenced by Pranab's attitude in New York as well how he treats the sisters. Pranab wants Sujata all to herself, even though she has recently been pursuing Mreenal Bose, a sign of the times and how he has moved on. He expects to come into New York and be hailed as a hero of the tea industry, or a soon-to-be hero that will take New York by its rein with his profound knowledge of Sanskrit and music. He returns to Darjeeling expected to be treated as royally and as kindly as he did in the old days, unable to accept that time has passed.

Must fail:
IN one sense, Pranab has definitely failed in trying to repeat the past with Sujata as well as Aloka. And he has not necessarily gained the greatness and power that he had hoped for in the beginning. However, Pranab has managed to find serendipity as he learns to lower her priorities in order to make a compromise with the struggles of is surroundings, as he tells Sujata that he was learning to admire the simpler pleasures in life, in a way discussing that although his first dream may have failed he himself was not a failure and simply had to have a change of heart:

"'Maybe I reached too high, maybe we're not all capable of greatness. From now on, I'm going to concentrate on small activities, like getting some young boy excited about Sanskirt literature. Perhaps it's enough to influence one mind, not hundreds. As I get older, I am finding more satisfaction in simple pleasures. I guess I've finally acsepted being ordinary." (294)

The Monomyth

I never really thought of the Monomyth in terms of Darjeeling until now, really.
But I don't think, in the context of this story, you can really apply one whole monomyth to all the characters. Or rather, you can, it's simply that it is perceived differently by each character:

Loss/Lack: The beginning of the romantic triangle between Aloka, Sujata, and Pranab, where essentially the sisters' love for Pranab tears the foundations of the family apart. Essentially, when all three of these characters are either exiled or flee to North America, they have lost many connections with their home back at Darjeeling when they are forced to start a new life. This could very well be part of the journey however, since it takes a lot of setup to get to this "breakdown point."

If considering this stage of the monomyth to be a form of lack, then the "lack" the three characters go through is maturity or an ability to understand each other genuinely. Sujata is the black sheep, and lacks the respect and acknowledgement that her sister receives. Aloka's lack is her inability to understand her sister's struggles of always having to be in the shadow, and in a sense, she lacks indepence-- both sisters lack independence. Nina's journey for me is all about bringing Aloka and Sujata closer together, even though I find her, through all her mistakes, to be a static character. Even still, her lack would be, then, not being able to keep Aloka and Sujata together?

Journey:
Not including the exile and the immigration, which has a debatable position, the journey for Nina is trying to make amends for the tragedy of Aloka, Sujata, and Pranab's dissipated love triangle, which has also severed some of their relationships. Sujata's journey would be coping with life in Victoria then returning to Darjeeling to make her name known and to regain respect that she did not previously receive, and to be able to face Aloka, her sister and rival, after a long period of alienation. Aloka's journey is trying to overcome the shadow of the "ideal woman's glasses" as she blends into the world of New York but also faces divorce and being able to face her Indian relatives back at home. Pranab's journey is trying to figure out whether he should let go of the past and his status in order to achieve glory.

Test:
For Aloka and Sujata AND Nina, the test was probably the channer payesh  making scene. Period. Or, that could be expanded to Aloka's final confrontation with Pranab and Sujata's final meeting with Mreenal when they stand up to their men and tell them that they have or can move on and do not need a man bringing them down.When Aloka stands up to Pranab in the cafe Pranab receives his test of whether he is willing to pick himself up from an impossibly dark hole.

Return:
Aloka and Parnab both return separately to New York to continue or restart their lives refreshed and renew, their relationships fixed or resolved, likewise with Sujata, who has now returned home to take care of the family tea business.

Food as a bonding point.

YES. Last entry before the fun part-- the reflection entries! (Obviously, I'm not turning this line in)

Food is definitely a bonding point. As I pointed out in the title of the journal.
Firstly, many of the turning points happen over food. Not the negative events mainly, but food signifies a change of heart or the moment when two or more characters are brought closer together.

A very largely emphasized example would be the moment when Aloka and Sujata finally settle their differences and reconcile while making channer payesh a cheese and milk dessert that their Grandma likes-- as Sujata admits to Aloka:

"When she sneaked a look at Sujata, it shocked her to see the crumpled face. Sujata bit her lip, squeezed her hands, and flexed her feet inside her sandals, like she used to do as a child when she was upset. ALoka felt a surge of affection towards Sujata, the usually tough woman, suddenly so vulnerable.  'When Thakurma asked me if I'd help you in the kitchen, at first I had reservations. Then I thought if we spent some time together we could resolve our differences....' Sujata's voice trailed off." (287)

Another moment happens before this-- when Aloka finally defends Sujata against Pranab at a cafe while they are eating snacks, despite the fact that Sujata has had an affair with Pranab in the past. This moment signifies when Aloka is finally able to let go of her grudges as well as her bondage to Pranab, and stand up for her and her sister's dignity (In this scene they were waiting for or already drinking, I couldn't tell, coffee and scones):

"'Are you saying all this because you're angry at me, because I pay more attention to Sujata?'

'Quite the contrary. I have come to consider myself fortunate that you loved Sujata more. All that time I held on to you, playing the dutiful Hindu wife, cost me years of my life. But now, fortunately, I've outgrown all that. Had we remained married, you'd have dragged me down even more.'" (270)

Also, as mentioned earlier, Aloka and Jahar first bond over food, and Sujata's last day in Victoria is spent over dinner when her friends encourage her and give her advice in regards to her romantic problems back in Darjeeling.

(On a random note, I notice that Sujata is referred to as Suzy only in the chapters she narrates... probably because she is still Sujata to the rest of the family....)

Also, Aloka and Nina are able to get closer to each other in terms of a granddaughter-grandmother relationship over a very exquisite lunch, just as Sujata and Nina in the chapter before further reconcile while discussing tea. In regards to the former, this is the moment when Nina suggests to Aloka that she make the channer payesh with Sujata. Also, at these respective points Aloka and Sujata soon reveal that they have overcome many of their obstacles and have gotten over their love for Pranab. These are also the moments when they assert their independence.

Jahar as a Symbol

This is a quick one, mainly because Jahar's a minor character.

After reading through one of my journal entries where I discuss how Aloka asserts or brings down women's roles in the book, I began to see Jahar as almost a symbolic character, whether Kirchner intended him to be one or not.

The first reason I say this is because of Jahar's intimate connection with food- when he first tries to woo over Aloka at the Korean deli, he tries to persuade by promising a home-cooked meal-as Kirchner, a cookbook author, greatly values the importance of food, and Jahar is shown to cook with his heart, food represents the soul in this context:

"'I can tell you have many important things to do. But please I'm making a good Indian meal--sukhe aloo, gughni, and  pullao rice. It'd be an honor if you joined us. I'd very much like to talk to you."

This almost ties back to Aloka's search for her own cultural identity (which her counterpart Seva seems to know plenty about.) As she assimilates into life in New York, she adopts more of their dress and their tastes (when she returns to Darjeeling, she spends most of her time drinking coffee at a cafe that reminds her of New York) until she is considered to foreign to her own homeland:

"In the next few minutes Aloka confessed how in these past several days seh'd been visiting family and friends and making excursions to all her old haunts-- Birch Hill, Observatory Hill, the zoo...but no matter where she went or whom she met, she was aware that something vital had been lost forever. People sensed the difference and treated her with a certain reserve." (256)

On the outside, as Aloka no longer dons the dress and mannerisms of her home, it seems like Aloka has been fully absorbed into American culture. However, as her relationship with Jahar proves, she does not.

Jahar is uncomfortable in upscale social activities, much like the new immigrant would not be able to understand such activities. Furthermore, by writing to Seva he seems to be trying to reach to Aloka's "inner spirit," a spirit that is deeply rooted in her childhood's culture, despite her disinterest in tea. The fact that Aloka feels more comfortable and herself around Jahar also contributes to Jahar's symbolism as her spirit or even inner self.

Nina in a Feminist perspective

I honestly don't hear too much of Nina in all that I've read about her, except that (with fair exception that she is a grandmother) the classic traditionalist mother who wants to keep everything stable and just like the old days. Which is interesting, because this brings up two conflicting aspects of her which to this day leave me confused about whether she is to promote women as powerful or equal figures to men or if they are as always subservient.

She's the matriarch of the whole family, so it is in fact a woman that orchestrates everything that happens in the Gupta family (Okay, I know, it's bad logic. It's like saying that because a woman picked up a bag of money off the street, then it symbolizes that women are supposed to be in control of the money and thus economy... but that's beside the point.)

But then again she also has a role as the "nurturing mother," who raises the sisters by herself after their mother passes away and takes it upon herself to make sure both of the girls are happy and well raised as well as protected. This can, then again, go more into honoring family values and bonding.

However, one thing that Aloka points out earlier in the book is that Nina/Thakurma makes plenty of social commentary in regards to life in Darjeeling, and advocates teh growing influence of women in social, economical, and political matters:

"In my last letter I had mentioned how women in the village of Sonagunj were trying to get elected to their community council. As you well know I am all for them. It was our ancient poet Kalidasa who once said, 'Look for a land where women are in good spirits, for that is a prosperous country...'


Aloka smiled. Grandma's letters always began with a commentary on some aspect of social or political life-- she had been nicknamed All Indian Radio by her neighbors." (10)

Another thing that makes her represent the power that women have in society is when she herself defies social  boundaries and expectations put upon her, and as a result becomes a respected legend. In chapter 26 starting on page 160 there is a length flashback where Nina recounts to Aloka and Sujata, then children, about how her marriage with her husband and their grandfather came to be, even though they were of different social class. She describes the way that she was mistreated by her judgmental mother-in-law, up until the day she confronted her:

"I sprang up faster than a tigress leaps at her prey, threw off the veil, and took the pins out of my hair, alowing my tresses to cascade down my back and over my face. Mouths fell open. They'd never seen such long, shiny, locks, and certainly no one expected a young married woman to assert herself in this fashion. 'Choop karo,'  I said. Shut up. My mother-in-law nearly fainted, her old cousin breathed terribly hard, and the rest looked up at me in shocked silence. I felt glorious" (170)

Letting down you hair is according to the book impolite in Indian culture, so by breaking expectations of her as a wife that she couldn't meet, Nina in this scene has asserted her power and her independence in oen swish of her hair.

Aloka in a Feminist Perspective

As explained in an earlier entry, Aloka was raised to be the perfect "Hindu wife." For this reason she has made Sujata the black sheep of the family because she is more shy yet at the same time more opinionated than Aloka is. However, her upbringing does not necessarily help her survive in jungle of New York, and in fact does nothing to salvage her relationship with Pranab. Aloka tries to be a perfect as possible for Pranab and pay special care to everything he likes, constantly stepping aside and tending to his every nook and cranny, just as she was taught to do:

"In India she'd been taught to cater to a man's wishes, not challenge them. Modern woman that she had been, she stillcouldn't quite shake herself out of traditional ways. She offered him larger servings at dinner, let him sleep on the window side of the bed, even made sure he got first chance at the front section of the New York Times in the morning." (98)

In the paragraph right after, Aloka blames herself for the failure of the marriage, when Pranab's attitude and inability to be honest with Aloka about his feelings for Sujata, as well as his unwillingness to accept the new life in New York, is also what is breaking their marriage, even though there was not any true chemistry between them in the first place. (So, we're kind of back on Aloka being delusional, except that now she's delusional over what it means to be a woman.)

On an interesting note, Aloka finds success in New York ends up working for newspaper that features her articles as well as her advice columns for Ask Seva, and becomes a working independent woman while adjusting to her new life in New York.

Another interesting thing to note is her relationship with Jahar. Maybe I'm wrong, but it doesn't seem like Jahar holds her up to the same societal standards that her culture and Pranab may have (well, not so much Pranab, but he was to marry her only because of her social status as well as her being the perfect Hindu wife), and in that sense, Aloka is able to break free of her bonds and become here own individual person. You can say that her relationship with Jahar literally has brought her down from her uncomfortably privileged pedestal, which I found to be represented by the high-end lifestyle Aloka lives that lets her fit in, in comparison to Jahar's more down-to-earth interests:

"He was loving, courteous, generous, and protective. In the midst of the brutal  chaos of the city, he'd created a small oasis and carved a nook for her in it. But what would her friends  say about a man who didn't attend City Arts and Lectures or hang out in the Theater District or at Spierman Gallery, one who couldn't comment on Paul Taylor Dances?" (201)

In this sense, Jahar symbolizes Aloka's heart... which I will explain later...

Sujata in a Feminist Perspective

Not so positive-- Sujata's affair with Pranab. This is a pretty obvious one, I would think. By persisting in her affair with Pranab, Sujata seems to be evaluating her own self worth based off how close she is or how well she attracts a man. And that if Pranab must think she is worthy than she is, but if he doesn't find her worthy then she isn't. She only starts to take care of herself better and gain confidence because of her affair with Aloka's fiancée, which I should add also seems pretty shallow:

"Only in the last few weeks had she been drawn to makeup and fine clothing, for whenever she exchanged a glance with Pranab, she saw herself radiantly reflected in his eyes. And nothing about seemed to escape his attention. Just the other day, seeing her dressed in a black sari embellished with silver embroidery, he had composed a melodious Sanskrit verse, then translated it as, "Your beauty craves a thousand eyes. Alas, I have but two." (43)

After her exile, Sujata rebuilds herself a small tea business that sustains her and keeps her well respected in her new domain-- without the help of Pranab, who meanwhile literally crashes and burns in New York because of the lack of privilege and respected he receives there and his inability to secure a highly important job: As she later tells Pranab:

"Yes, all those years I threw my life into my work. A small business is a constant struggle, but it also gives you a lot of satisfaction. This morning when I called my assistant, she asked me when I was coming back. She made me feel very good deep down inside." (233)

And then it could be said that in Darjeeling her relationship with Mreenal Bose ends up to be a sort of weakness- not only because Mreenal was picked out for her so that she couldn't go back to Pranab if she had wanted to, but in the sense that she eventually accepts. Which isn't saying she accepts the idea of arranged marriages, but the fact that she accepts Mreenal almost implies that she can't really make her decisions for herself. When she rejects Mreenal, however, she is also saying that she doesn't need the "perfect man" to be happy, and chooses her family's tea business over him-- not only is she showing her willingness to be independent and play an executive role, but she additionally shows her loyalty to her family, which then goes to tie back into the Cult of True Womanhood's idea of domesticity. Essentially, Sujata has returned back home and decided that that is where she is belongs, and the fact that she is taking care of it for her family also ties back into domesticity. So whether she is promoting female independence or a veiled regress into traditional roles is a bit puzzling.

Maybe I'm totally misinterpreting this...

Update: I couldn't find anything useful on Indian stereotypes. Period. Nothing.  

But, as much as I support women's rights, there is something that bothers me about the characterization of Pranab. Maybe if this was an even longer book (which means more work for me, yes, but still) I wouldn't have minded it as much, given that Kirchner spent the time to flesh out Pranab's character. nd Mreenal.

My problem (or at least at first) was the sudden blue-screen-of-death moment he had when he and Aloka started their new lives in America:

"The once-loquacious man had grown silent. His mobile face had become an expressionless mask. The boisterous laugh that used to ripple through the entire upper half of his body had subsided into an occasional sneering chuckle." (96) 

This is basically explained within two or so pages, and up until his epiphany Pranab's character basically goes into this overly-nostalgic shell that needs to cling onto the love of his life from eons ago. Really, it goes downhill. And then suddenly it becomes more about the fact that he can't face his problems like a man, or rather that he manipulated Aloka and Sujata: 

"Nina suppressed the accusation that burned in her heart. Pranab had maneuvered her granddaughters for his own selfish gratification. He tried to appropriate their property and use their innate strength of character to compensate for his own weakness." (245)

At the point of the events that had occurred, I don't think Aloka, Sujata, or Pranab had any true 'strength of character" in the first place. Maybe they all gained from it eventually but at this point no. I won't deny that in some sense Pranab was playing with the emotions of Aloka or Sujata, but I think he tried to make it pretty clear to Aloka without making her too angry that he simply loved Sujata more. 

I honestly don't know how Aloka couldn't catch on--I get that she's the perfect Indian wife and can't think for herself, but she's just unrealistically weak I guess you could say (Having her as Pranab's beneficiary in New York, however, is a nice change of pace). And the fact that she clings on the Pranab and drags her to New York with her just makes her seem a bit delusional if anything and ironically weak.

 Sujata on the other hand should have known the risks of the affair in the first place, yet she continued to do so because of her jealousy of Aloka-- being Pranab's sweetheart gave her an ego boost over Aloka. And Aloka for the longest time did not consider how privileged she was in comparison to Sujata, yet still tries to keep Pranab to herself. 

With all due respect to Kirchner, I feel like while it's nice to have the women of the story grow strong and powerful, I must ask-- is it really necessary to make the men look bad? I felt that throughout the book the younger women were also behaving immaturely for adults. As in it was not that convincing that they could be that immature. 

5 Parallels to the Great Gatsby

 (My blog titles are losing creativity )': )

1. Despite the more moral conscience of the protagonists in Darjeeling, nonetheless they still managed to establish what they view is an pedestalized image of what the "perfect Hindu wife" would be. Originally in Darjeeling this would be Aloka, however her immigration into the U.S and assimilation into its culture takes that away from her, giving her more room to establish her own person. In the Great Gatsby Daisy is hopeless. She doesn't make an effort to change. She still acts superior. Unlike Aloka, she doesn't face her many flaws and in the end is portrayed as a particularly selfish person.

2. Putting this at a more economic standpoint, and given the social class system in India, there is a sense of class conflict even when at first, the story of Darjeeling  just concerns a conplex love triangle. In this sense, Pranab can be compared to Gatsby, with the fair exception that he was able to redeem himself and change into a better, more sensible person at the end, unlike the less fortunate Gatsby. Pranab and Gatsby but have an idealized sense of what is greatness, and wants to achieve, hoping to overcome (in the case of Pranab and the treatment of the tea workers) or beat the system of (Gatsby's illegal trade) their lower social rank in the process. For Pranab, however, this is more derived from an economic standpoint.

3. If you really think about it, both books largely focus on the life of the rich, which makes it even harder for most readers to sympathize with the characters in both books. The Gupta sisters are born into wealth because of the family tea business, and up until they were displaced to North America they lived comfortably in a large house with vast tea gardens.

4.  The Gupta sisters could almost emulate the new millennium version of Jordan Baker, the ideal of the "new 20's woman," more self sustainable and loose and independent than before. Neither of the Gupta sisters are loose, but they develop a strong sense of independence and like the flappergirls of the 20s shed tradition in order to achieve such success, whether in Aloka's newspaper or Suzy's tea business. Unlikes Jordan, though, they are honest.

5. Family status really comes into play. Aloka hurts her family's reputation and her reputation in the family be cause of her divorce, a taboo it seems in India. The maidservant of Nina Reenu talks about her boyfriend and how neither of their are rich, but she cannot date who Nina requested (Mreenal, I believe) for more information regarding his friend. Also, Pranab receives familial pressure to marry the more socially acceptable Aloka, even though truly he wants to marry Sujata. This is similar to how Daisy marries Tom even though for a while she secretly loved Gatsby more and had an affair with him... the whole cheating scheme makes Darjeeling seem to be similar to a gender-switched version of the Great Gatsby.

Mind over matter

First, a quick reminder to myself-- I read somewhere in a review that the characters are stereotypical. Will need to research Indian stereotypes later.

But all that aside, considering my observations on music, I was wondering if one of the ideas of the novel is that you shouldn't let your instinct/emotions betray, but rather you need to find an equilibrium between logic and your heart.

Take Aloka at the beginning of the novel. Despite her success and ability to reach out to others as advice columnist Seva, she is still emotionally driven at heart in an almost unhealthy and maybe delusional (but not completely, that's more Pranab) sense.

Aloka starts out at the beginning of the novel (not the story) in more of a jealous rage, as the divorce has betrayed her trust in being able to be a good housewife to Pranab. Her possessiveness did not simply begin there-- in helping Pranab escape Darjeeling, Aloka had also rationalized that she could kept Pranab away from his lover Sujata:

"Pranab would forget Sujata. Surely he would. Over time that name would carry no more significance that a fallen tree on the streets of his memory.This notion,if illusory, gave Aloka the sense of optimism she needed to go on." (85)

Aloka feels as if she is best for Pranab, and tries to care for him and remain loyal to him and convince him, also, of his worth in the only way she knows best. It is in this way that she attempts to salvage their crumbling marriage:

"In India she'd been taught to cater to a man's wishes, not challenge them. Modern woman that she had been, she still couldn't quite shake herself. She offered him larger servings at dinner, let him sleep on the window side of the bed, even made sure he got first chance at the front section of the New York Times in the morning." (98)

However, their marriage still fails.

Another thing to note is the subsequent paranoia that Aloka feels when she discovers proof in a letter that Pranab had hidden regarding his love for Sujata. Aloka can only be angry with Sujata, and although Sujata herself is overwhelmed by Pranab's declaration of his undying love, this is not apparent to Aloka (at the moment I can't find the quote, but there's one part where she assumes Sujata to be evilly plotting against her, to put it simply).

Obviously, jealousy takes huge root in this, and does take over not only Aloka but also Sujata and Pranab. There seems to be in their jealousy some idealized sense of what things should be... Aloka continually discusses that she and Pranab will reunited upon their return to Darjeeling, due to feelings of nostalgia. Or rather, to me, given that Aloka is around 40, it just doesn't seem believable.

The Power of Music

Consider Pranab's interest in Bhangra dancing, a secret of his that was exposed to Aloka only after their divorce, which he hid from Aloka even while they were engaged. He first explains to Sujata in one of their times alone:

"Bhangra. Not even your sister knows about it. She's so much into classical music and dancing that I can't bring myself to tell her. What little music training I've had is also classical. But recently I have become interested in traditional village dancing...When I am dancing... I feel at one with the simplest of people. Too often we look down on the, and forget that they're essential to our prosperity; indeed to our very own survival." (35)

Pranab has revealed in Sujata the less reserved, more emotional side of himself through his interest in dancing, which dismisses the prim and proper of what Aloka, a representation of the perfect Hindu wife, clings so tightly to. His relationship with Sujata is also, if anything, less controlled and more impulsive--oh, and it's an affair. But his love for dance seems to dig in too deep into his emotions-- his love for Sujata, revealed through dance, overtakes him and severs his marriage with Aloka in New York. Aloka and Sujata both observe that he has only been thinking of Sujata all this time that he has been wed to Aloka. His youthful idealization which has inspired to start a revolution among the tea workers now transcends into music and thus his romance. Perhaps the "perfection" of Aloka's behavior as a Hindu wife has left the relationship static to him.

After the divorce, Aloka visits Pranab one time to accidentally observe him while he is in the middle of a dance. After he reveals to her that he has danced Bhangra before he and Aloka had even escaped Darjeeling embitters Aloka:

"An impenetrable, secretive look on Pranab's face confirmed Aloka's suspicion. When Sujata left Darjeeling, she took his dancing with her. At that instant Aloka had a revelation. Late at night, in deep sleep, when one is immersed in one's truth, she would curl up against Pranab and hear the uneven thump of his chest...That longing.... was for Sujata." (183)

But Sujata at this point in the story has pretty much been close to surpassing a dependence on Pranab's love, while Pranab, excited by the prospect of seeing Sujata again, decides to regress back into happier times, or the past, when he was well respected by many. His dancing and his music, through the powerful emotions that it has given him, has ultimately disillusioned him.

Some quick notes and observations in regards to the narration

(I inwardly made a promise to my Humanities teacher that I would write WAYYYY less on my assignments...obviously, I haven't been to true to that promise, especially judging by the first 5-6 posts of the blog. So starting from this post, I'm coming clean and trying not to go all overkill... because that just makes it hard on me too, and can be a pain to read)

1. There are three narrators, though the story is mainly told through third person, so it's better to say that there are three perspectives represented in full, inside and out: Sisters Aloka and Sujata, and their grandmother Nina. The book will sporadically alternate between the three characters,though there is still an order to it or at least something to tie it all together.

2. The appearances, as goes:
Aloka: chapters 1-4, 7, 10, 12-15, 18, 20, 25, 28, 31, 34, 38, 43, 45-46, 49

Sujata: chapters 5-6, 16, 21-22, 26-27, 29, 32, 35-37, 42, 44, 47-48

Nina: 8-9, 11, 17, 19, 23-24, 30, 33, 39-41

3. Not only does Aloka begin and end the story, she seems to be the most dispersed chapter wise throughout the book, as if she is the one who ultimately ties the story together-- a different point of view for me, for I would otherwise expect that Sujata would be the one to do so. Interestingly enough, Aloka is also the writer of the family, so it almost implies that she, as a writer, has woven this tale into her own story. And not to mention Kirchner is a writer herself, or she wouldn't have written this book.

4. In fact, there seems to be some very odd tier going on with the structure of the novel-- Aloka takes the ends of it (the start and finish of the novel), her chapters seemingly lined by Sujata's chapters, then Nina's chapters and otherwise mixed in with Aloka and Sujata in the "middle"-- I wonder if this was intentional...

5. Regarding the trustworthiness of each viewpoint, all sides are indefinitely biased, but because the story is being looked at by three different characters whose lives and familial roots are deeply entwined with each other, it balances out-- I thin Kirchner was trying to avoid making any of the main characters, well, antagonistic, if not misguided or affected differently by Pranab's romances. So as such, the reader won't agree with Aloka when she angrily and mentlly calls her sister "bhoot" as they have seen that Aloka may be paranoid about Sujata reuniting with Pranab, but they can all easily sympathize with her frustrations.

6. Most notably, all the narrators are women. However, this seems to lead to almost what I view as a vilification of some of the male characters, such Mreenal and Pranab, as they are gradually portrayed as more and more weaker/judgemental (though Pranab "redeems" himself) while the women narrators view each other as influential or stronger than ever.

I absolutely love music, but...

Well, music is certainly portrayed in what initially appears to be a positive light, as shown in a passage where the book, in Aloka's point of view, describes the joy that it instills in her:

"Music had always been a passion of hers and even now she practiced every week. Music helped her come in touch with her many emotions." (20)

Aloka and Pranab fall for each other (or at first) in large part due to their common passion for music. Aloka and Pranab enjoy playing traditional instruments and singing more traditional Indian music. Through music and melodic, lyrical words, they express to each other their romance to each other.

Despite the overflow of passion and emotion that music instills in Aloka and Pranab, it must be kept in mind that firstly, Aloka had pursued music partly because of her grandmother, Nina:

"A more likely explanation of Grandma's generosity might have been that the marriage potential of a girl in the present society improved if she could sing. Grandma had made sure that Aloka, throughout her adolescence, was given extensive training, and it had paid off handsomely.Theses days, whenever friends and relatives gathered, Aloka was asked to perform." (47-48)

Also, Aloka, as Sujata puts it, is the more popular of the two sisters, and more accepted by the traditions of Indian society:

"And from the family's point of view it was heartening that when the itme came for Aloka to take over the tea estate, the experienced and capable Pranab would be there to see that the operation ran smoothly. What better person for the job? Sujata rankled that there appeared to be no place for her in this blissful picture." (30)

The more opinionated and reserved Sujata is marginalized by her society, whereas Aloka fits in perfectly-- her expertise in music does plenty to help. While music gives Aloka freedom, it seems to suppress the less musically able Sujata. But at the same time, as Aloka is raised to be the perfect Indian wife, music truly serves as a more traditional and almost superficial role into the lives of the characters.While that emphasizes the importance of music to Indian culture, it forces Aloka into a specific role that she is expected to play to maintain her status-- a requisite that she soon dismisses later in the book.

Without food, life would end. And without life, there'd be no one to cook and eat it.

YES, FOOD! What I observe about the use of food in Darjeeling is most likely universal at best, but I feel that the way that it ties the story together really emphasizes the larger themes of the book, and is in itself an overarching theme. The foods that the characters eat not only revive memories but make common threads between the people around them, and food indeed forges relationships--Especially considering that the book is about a tea industry and romance, there is in the most appropriate sense something sensual about the usage of food in the book. Something heartwarming about it.

Also, I consider this-- young children are generally very picky eaters, but as they grow they also learn to open their minds to new kinds of foods, a lot of it coming from the experiences that they go through in life. So basically, food is a qualitative measure of growth and maturity.

In a similar sense, though given the wide array of foods I don't think the characters are very picky, food and especially tea is a measure of growth for the Gupta sisters also, in how they forge and forget their relationships and rivalry.

A few examples (And this will span over the course of the whole book):

1. Food becomes a source of comfort when people do not. This may be because food is given meaning to the person who eats it-- To Aloka on page 9,

"A half dozen crescent shaped cookies called Pleasure Domes.... with their powdery, sugar-dusted tops and faint vanilla scent, they were her current weakness. Right now they only held scant appeal, serving only as a reminder of a friend's birthday bash." 

2. The author, Bharti Kirchner, is also a cookbook author-- this may explain why she sprinkles (I lost count after around 20 or so) every Indian dish she can think of throughout the entire course of the book, and gives a vivid description of the taste, aroma, and texture (and appearance) of the dishes. In this sentence alone on page 167, she lists six within a couple of clauses-- "luchi, aloor dam begun bhaja, cholar dahl, payesh, and two kinds of sandesh-- all for an afternoon tea." She does this many instances throughout the book, including on page 144 too. 

3. Or, after a few pages or so a reference to some sort of food will come up in some way or another--

a. It is ground for conversation and thus bonding-- in the awkward dinner scene between Nina (the grandmother of Aloka and Sujata), Sujata, and Pranab, Pranab seems to drive the conversation: "It'd be a pleasure to see you. And rui is my big weakness." (52) "Ah, rumali roti... smooth as a silk handkerchief-- so aptly named." (53) 

b. Speaking of bonding, Aloka warms up to minor character Jahar when she firsts meets him over food, as they start discussing jack fruit while Aloka is picking up dinner at a Korean deli. Then Jahar invites Aloka over to dinner and cooks for her by hand, while they discuss how Jahar prepares the meal. At the end, Aloka realizes that she has bonded with Jahar despite her initial apprehension, as spending time with Jahar enlightens her. After pretending to be a woman named Parveen to Jahar, Aloka at the end confesses to him the truth and adds:

"'I enjoyed being with you. You brought out a new me. I could be livelier and more spontaneous... and look at the world differently." (280)

Chai.Cha.Te.Tea

For starters, Aloka and Sujata are born into a family-run tea factory in Darjeeling, as explained on pages 17-18, which talks about Aloka's past in terms of the tea business:

"Her personal connection to tea ran much deeper than his, going all the way back to the 1800s...when her ancestors first tasted the tea, they found it so satisfying that they resolved to buy this choice location and settle down... the estate had prospered under the Guptas..."

Despite her "personal connection," Aloka doesn't care much for tea at all: "As the oldest child in the family, it would all be hers one day, even though her interest in the farming and marketing aspects of tea was nonexistent." (14) ON the other hand, as seen later in the book, Sujata is completely dedicated to tea, as she is introduced in the book being in the middle of her privately-owned tea business in Victoria BC. Likewise, the middle of the triangle, Pranab, is successful for his ability to taste the quality and tend to the growing and production of tea-- in addition, Pranab has a tendency to idealize all his passion and turn them into something grandiose-- his love for tea and the process, it could be said, is what ultimately led him to start a rebellion against his boss.

Indeed, tea is also a huge bonding point between Sujata and Pranab-- they share more intellectual and personal interests with each other such as tea and workers' welfare, and more deeply passionate interest's such as Pranab's dancing:

"And, without waiting for a reply, began to discuss two crop pests, red spiders and green flies, as well as soil erosion problems. Finally he asked her if she had noticed anything in particular during her walk through the field. She felt flattered at being asked and mentioned that not all the tea workes had gloves on...Before she knew it, an hour had passed and he'd given her a detailed account of the worker's living conditions, as well as his own suggestions for improving their lot." (40)

"I think about you during my dance practice. I want to perform for you sometime." Pranab, page 43

Even Nina notices the connection:
"Nina noticed, too, that both Sujata and Pranab drank endless cups of tea. Their obvious intimacy was centered around tea." (53)

And when Sujata is forced to leave Pranab and her house to go to Victoria, it is in the end tea that sustains her and makes her a successful and independent business woman without the memory of Pranab dragging her down.

To quote Bharti Kirchner from an interview I found in the International Examiner, "To me tea is a symbol, as it is in the book - of slowing down, of paying attention to the moment, of relating to a friend."

Naturally, the affair of Pranab and Sujata is, like tea, very in the moment-- it is done without considering the consequences of being discovered and subsequently punished.

Sujata's tea business, then, shows her living in the moment in a different way-- having let go (for the most part) of her tragic past in Darjeeling, her pursuits in tea allow her to keep up with the times form new relations with the business world of Victoria, finding a way to belong despite feeling isolated in a land foreign from Darjeeling.

If this were in a book, would it be called meta-meta-meta-fiction?

I posted this on a discussion thread also, but it's interesting to note that Aloka has found success as a writer as we see in the beginning of the book, but not always as her own identity. Aloka writes an advice column in her newspaper to Indian immigrants seeking advice in maintaining traditions and surviving in general in the cosmopolitan streets of New York:

"But who was the real Seva? The question was a hot topic of discussion at social and religious gatherings of the community...Not even Pranab, Aloka's ex-husband, had suspected it was her. This was the first secret she had kept from him. As her marriage had disintegrated, she had felt a greater need to rely on her own career and identity." (3-4)

I know I've made one too many (attempts at) psychological interpretations in class and in this blog, but I can't help myself (even though my knowledge in the field is sparse)-- I believe there was one person who suggested that everyone has three different identities, and that one of them was the more "personal" self-- the self that only you saw and kept to yourself that no one else could see--Perhaps Seva is this secret sense of self? If so, then how is Seva able to break the boundaries of privacy and reach out to the many Indians that look up to her and write letter to her? What is the connection?

I almost feel as if the connection could be traced back (if this isn't going way too far) to the Hindu belief of atman-- one soul that is a part of an oversoul. And the fact that she keeps her identity away from even her own Ex-husband kind of makes "Seva" (which means service) to be a sense of security, but at the same time it allows her to connect with strangers-- perhaps being Seva allows her to identify with the isolation of such strangers?

Seva could also be connected with the fact that Aloka's name means "light--" Aloka is able to become a guiding light to those coping with loneliness and struggles in the new city, as Indian immigrants learn to assimilate themselves into American culture.

And not to mention, looking through Proquest I noticed that the author Bharti Kirchner is very passionate about writing-- many of the articles that came up while I was doing research appeared to be about writing and getting the message across. Bharti has inserted the connection between her and writing for other people (namely, novels that readers can enjoy) into a segment of Aloka's character.

En media res

After reading the back of the book for a summary (that came without any huge spoilers, mind you), I expected that the plot, involving two sisters that became estranged after one has an affair with the other's fiancée, would have at least some form of a flashback to the past, or at least begin at the very beginning of the whole sororal predicament.

And sure enough, the book begins with the elder sister Aloka Gupta 7 years after majority of the events have already occurred-- it begins with the bleak prospect of divorce for Aloka, as she finds herself a now isolated transplant in New York:

"The cold jumble of glass, concrete, chrome, and steel before her now stood in cruel contrast to the allure of that idyllic time. As she turned away, the final divorce papers, legal sized and officiously stamped with the seal of the state of New York and the day's date, stared accusingly from the top of her writing desk." (page 1)

However, the order that the events are presented in the book do not necessarily adhere to the chronological timeline of the events:

The first half of events, involving Aloka and Pranab's relationship, Sujata's affair with Pranab, then Sujata's exile and Aloka and Pranab's escape to New York (Occurring circa 1993): pages 14-94

The second half of events--Aloka and Pranab's divorce and Aloka, Pranab, and Sujata's lives in 2000 ;the trip to Darjeeling and the events during the return (Notably Sujata and Mreenal's relationship and Nina's lives with the daughters): pages 1-13, 95-302

In fact, this set up reminds me of Odysseus' narration, which also begins en media res to describe the result before the resolution-- Odysseus is about to return to Ithaca after his perilous journey home from the Trojan War, as chaos erupts within the wicked courters and women back in his home. It's an interesting format to sandwich the past between the present, almost as if it's one big flashback that has set up all the good and bad things that happen and will happen. This is also nicely paired with the flashbacks that the characters all have during the story, majority of which are essentially happier times-- a rosy retrospective outlook on the past. 

En media res could have also been used in order to show the mental state of Aloka at the beginning of the novel (not necessarily the ordeal) and the disheveled state of her mind after the divorce. I also found it interesting that the story begins and ends with Aloka, even though the story really centers on Sujata, Nina, AND Aloka. Reading through the quote from the 1st page again, I notice that Aloka begins the story looking back into the past, and how she ends the book looking towards the future. 

Impressions: So there's this quote from "Up..."

(This is a response to something I noticed after finishing the book the first time around [finally!])

"That might sound boring, but I think the boring stuff is the stuff I remember the most." --Randall

"Boring," however, does not seem to be the apt word for what I am referring to. After reading the book for the first time, I had to express my initial disappointment in all the loose ends left untied with the more minor characters of the novel, especially after so much build up in them being a larger part of the major characters' lives. I found myself missing Suzy's Victoria BC friends Eve and Ashraf (not so much a friend, but in such short time he seems to make considerable impact and give sage advice regarding Suzy's predicament)-- after what seemed to be a good amount of buildup, and especially considering that Eva is supposed to be Suzy/Sujata's closest friend in BC. The last you even hear of Eva comes on page 272:

"Does Darjeeling have half as much to offer as Victoria? You fit in so well in here. Also, won't you have to spend most of you time managing the tea estate? Will it be worth it?"

Then you never hear of her. Ever. Again.

Compare that to when Eva is first introduced to the reader-- Kirchner launches into a lengthy in-depth look at the close bond that Suzy maintains with Eva and how they depend on each other to survive the trevails of being a foreigner. Eva is also a Chinese immigrant working as a seamstress, while Suzy specializes in the tea business:

"In the years that followed, they became allies, Suzy believed, in the Asian way,close and trusting, yet maintaining a personal reserve ... Both had been raised not to inflict their problems on others. Still, life in North America had drained their habitual reserve. They chatted more freely...at the first hint of distress, one would show up for the other."(137)

To be fair however, the bond could possibly be forged by a common thread of isolation of having to survive in a foreign place, meaning that once Sujata returns back where she belongs in Darjeeling, she has less of a need to to find security for a void that has already been filled. Not saying that she would completely desert the company of Eva, but by returning to Darjeeling to stay she has most likely move on into the next stage of her life and decided to let go of her life in exile in Canada.

Similarly, an even more minor character, Ashraf, only makes about two actual appearances in the book, but seems to get along well with Sujata and understand her troubles with romance and arranged marriage. Ashraf, a Moroccan, Sujata, and Indian, and Eva, a Chinese woman, all come from very different backgrounds, but are able to find common ground (in tea and food, which I'm going to save for later posts). Their unlikelihood of ending up together in the first place demostrates the power of the melting pot when it comes to the struggles of minorities-- almost as if they have banded together to make their own presence known-- or is that going too far?