Some spoilers ahead!
There are some things which can only be handled by literature and the black holes of comprehension. ‘The God of Small Things’ is not just one of them but also among the modern pioneers of the list.
Published in 1997, winner of the Booker Prize, this is a story with many more stories in it narrated across 340 pages. The title, obscuring the genre of the book, is very well justified right from the first chapter and keeps adding deeper meanings and layers to it throughout.
Set in the post-colonial period in a village of Ayemenem, ‘The God of Small Things’ is a saga of forbidden love and carefree childhood infiltrated by dysfunctional families, a cultural tension, political and social variables defining caste equations, inchoate misogyny and the integral uncertainties building the perception of life, if not life itself.
As much as this is the story of dizygotic (two egged) twins, Estha and Rahel, it is also the story of Ammu, their mother and Velutha, her untouchable lover, Baby Kochamma, Sophie Mol, Mammachi and Uncle Chacko.
The non-linear narration taking us to the present and to the past in the same chapter might require a little extra attention from the reader but is not cumbersome. This style of narration tells us why the characters do/think what they do/think adding more depth and texture to their lives.
Every sentence is exquisitely craved with beautiful cleverness, childlike honesty and pure imagination. Dark political humour scattered here and there forces you to close the book and contemplate the current happenings. The rich metaphors, stunningly visual imagery and the usage of the native language not only paint a clear picture of the mind of the author and the character but also spare enough space for the reader to interpret it. Most sentences have a much deeper meaning.
The narration being non-sequential makes the reader read for the sake of feeling it. The death of Sophie Mol, Ammu and Velutha is mentioned right in the first chapter as it mentions the incident in Abhilash Talkies that leaves a prominent and permanent impact on Estha. We know who dies when and how, we just read it to feel the agony the death caused. We know everything about the character when we have just started identifying the character.
The choice of words and the architecture of the sentences have an outstanding essence throughout the narration, the essence which differentiates between sex and lovemaking.
The ending of the book is largely criticized and appreciated. As it leaves most of us with the questions of morality it also continues the cycle of self-destruction running in the family making the end more natural. Ironic, isn’t it? It also keeps the brackets open for the reader to fill in.
The God of Small Things is more than a literary boon. Most readers might associate the title with Velutha, as it is very deliberate in the book, but some, like myself, might even associate it with our very existence. Life is but an integral of small things. And all those little moments of pleasure and happiness, the small things which tell us who we are, and make us what we are, might just be regarded as ‘The God of Small Things’.