Jhumpa Lahiri

'I hear the babble of people as they chatter, on and on. I'm amazed at our impulse to express ourselves, explain ourselves, tell stories to one another.'

Originally written in Italian and now translated by the author herself, 'Whereabouts' reads as a diary, a series of entries over the course of a year as a woman lives her life in an Italian city. From going to a restaurant, the doctor's clinic, a stationery store, these small vignettes of a life are in themselves unremarkable, but are so show more perfectly described in sparse yet lyrical prose that the whole effect becomes mesmerising. We observe a life in action, where the small moments of interaction with friends and colleagues, the slightest gesture of a stranger opening a napkin, a visit to the swimming pool, all offer glimpses into her life. And as the narrator gradually reveals more of her past life, we learn to understand her position as a bystander, an observer.

If you like your books with action, pace and adventure, please move on. This is a book to savour, where every word matters and what is left unsaid is often more important than what is said, A quiet, reflective book that shows Lahiri as an extraordinary writer, this gets a very big 5 stars from me. show less

The Lowland is the story of two brothers, the cautious and reliable Subash and the adventurous Udayan who despite being the younger is the one who takes the lead in all their activities. Born to a relatively poor middle-class family in a suburb of Calcutta, the boys are inseparable as children, but as Udayan becomes involved in a revolutionary movement in early adulthood they begin to grow apart. And so for the first time in his life it is Subash who makes the first move, to leave his family show more and India to go to America to continue his studies in Oceanography. And as Subash comes to term with his new life in Rhode Island, Udayan's life also changes as he secretly marries the studious Gauri, to the shock of his traditional parents who had expected to arrange their sons' marriages.

But it is Udayan's death in the early stages of the book which is the pivotal event from which the rest of the book flows, with the ramifications of a decision that Subash makes after his brother's death following him and his family down the years. And it is here that the book really comes into its own and becomes a beautiful and heartbreaking portrait of how decisions taken with the best of intentions can have tragic and unforeseen consequences.

The language with which Lahiri tells her story is beautiful: listening to this in audio I felt at times that I was hanging on every single word. She can create a heart-breaking scene with very few words as here when Udayan asks Subash to reconsider his decision to go to America:

'You're the other side of me, Subash. It's without you that I'm nothing. Don't go.

It was the only time he'd admitted such a thing. He'd said it with love in his voice. With need.

But Subash heard it as a command, one of so many he'd capitulated to all his life. Another exhortation to do as Udayan did, to follow him.'

The narrative weaves back and forward over seventy years, with events seen through the eyes of first one and then another participant. But at no time did it feel rushed. And at no time did the characters seem anything over than very real people living the lives which were so different from the ones they had expected to lead. Highly recommended. show less

This short story collection was Lahiri's very first publication and she won an armful of awards for it, which is logical because if you were to try and imagine the Platonic archetype of a "New Yorker short story" any one of these would do just fine, and indeed several of them were first published there. They're flawlessly written, with complex characterization, engrossing narratives, and emotional nuances in that literary fiction way where at the end of each one you're satisfied but show more thoughtful, not exactly happy but spiritually enriched somehow - "stories that make you go hmm". Most of them are set in the US, with the remainder taking place in India, and they all deal with some aspect of "the Bengali Indian/Indian-American experience", which generally seems to mean either dealing with culture shock or relationship issues or both. Not a perfect set of stories, since there is a total absence of joy here, but I came away respecting Lahiri's decision to concentrate on the melancholy aspects of the seam between cultures and the gap between expectations and reality, even if some more humor would have improved several of them. Often when I didn't enjoy some aspects of the stories I revised my understanding on rereading, because for the most part they're deeply written, and the restraint and economy of her style is key to the concepts she's trying to convey even if they come off as strange or unpleasurable at first.

- "A Temporary Matter". A couple has been failing to properly deal with the emotional fallout of the stillbirth of their child, until utility work on their house forces them to confront each other. There's an infamous adage that dealing with death is what separates a true "serious writer" from the amateur; by that criterion this story is as serious as it gets, but it's so sad in both its subject and its ending that you understand why most people treat reading as an escape and not a serious matter. I get that both staying in and leaving from a dead relationship are depressing, but man.

- "When Mr. Pirzada Came to Dine". A young Bengali Indian-American girl's family takes a Bangladeshi man under their wing while his family back home is threatened by the Bangladeshi war of independence. This is a solid commentary on how how remote and irrelevant affairs in the home country can seem to second-generation immigrants, neatly illustrated in reverse as well via the Bangladeshi man's puzzlement over Americanisms like Halloween customs.

- "Interpreter of Maladies". An Indian tour guide fields the questions and life experiences of a particularly ill-matched Indian-American couple and their children. Having just returned from a trip to Bangladesh myself I really sympathize with the poor tour guide's discomfort at the haplessness of tourists, but the unredeemed and unleavened contemptibility of the family in this story doesn't leave you with a good feeling about humanity. There's a whiff of commentary on how debauched Indian-Americans can be when they've lost touch with their heritage, but on further reflection I don't think Lahiri was trying to make a statement in that way, it seems more likely that these are just individually miserable people and not culturally miserable people. To interpret is also to translate, and so the tour guide's unease with these people is in the end perfectly relatable, as is his refusal to absolve the wife of her willful sins.

- "A Real Durwan". An old woman who was possibly once rich acts as a janitor/guardian for a Calcutta housing estate, as new wealth threatens to change the relationship between her and the rest of the building's residents. This is one of those "writing as formal justification for itself" stories that I find hard to criticize but also hard to respond to emotionally. The protagonist's plot arc is unhappy but not really sad, since the fact that the other residents don't believe her stories is the only bit of characterization she's given, so when she's used as the scapegoat for the building's misfortune it comes off as more of as writerly effort - the cycle of her personal falls from grace recapitulated in the community - than a genuinely moving narrative.

- "Sexy". A woman becomes a mistress to a rich banker, which is fun until it isn't, as the real ambivalence of being a side chick sinks in. Despite this story using some heavy-handed tricks - the parallels in the romantic travails of the protagonist's coworker's cousin are a bit too unsubtle, the whole scene with the cousin's overly precocious son she's babysitting is just bizarre - I liked how well it illustrated the paradoxically irresistible appeal of unsustainable affairs, how liberating making mistakes can be, and even though the arcs of passion inevitably return back down to earth, that descent doesn't have to be wrenching or awful but part of life.

- "Mrs. Sen's". A homesick elderly Indian woman who is having major issues adjusting to certain aspects of American life babysits a young white American boy whose single mother is trying to get her life in order. I guess you could say the theme of this story is "maturity", as all the main characters have some adjustment to do, but for some reason I found the title character's frustration with staples of the American experience like driving a car poignant, even if it's objectively pretty childish to refuse to learn how to drive. Assimilation has costs as well as benefits, and at a certain age I think you have the right to take a pass on certain ways of fitting in. I did mourn somewhat that the slapstick potential of some scenes were unrealized, but perhaps that would have undermined the characters.

- "This Blessed House". An uptight traditionalist man newly married to a free-spirited Americanized woman is really not happy with her delighted irony about the Christian religious paraphernalia they keep finding left over from the previous owners in the house they've just bought. Odd couples are a classic sitcom premise, and the New World vs Old World elements give this story the promise of a pilot episode, even if Lahiri scrupulously avoids any hint of comedy in the husband's attempts to cope with the wacky Manic Pixie Dream Girl aspects of the woman he's married after only 4 months of knowing her. Of course in real life this sort of marriage is almost instantly doomed, so as the story ends with the husband staring into the future thinking "oh boy, this is my life now", you're not exactly pulling for them to stay together.

- "The Treatment of Bibi Haldar". An epileptic Indian peasant girl deals with the bafflement and scorn of her community as she attempts to find love despite her condition. Yet another one of these stories that is formally flawless but emotionally unengaging because there's not a lot of dramatic action around the central problem. It actually feels like an over-literal interpretation or bad translation of a fairy tale with all of the magic and wonder stripped out, so instead of wicked stepsisters and helpful talking animal friends you just have this poor girl living in a shack desperately trying to get laid, waiting for a prince and having seizures once in a while. Disney is unlikely to option this one though.

- "The Third and Final Continent". An Indian immigrant to the US via London boards in the room of an incredibly old woman's house and deals with her being incredibly old until he can move out and bring his wife, who he barely knows, to America to begin their life together. That sounds really boring, but this was my favorite story. It's written as a first-person journal, so the stiff diction matches the stiffness of the main character's personality and therefore the lack of emotion in his life complements Lahiri's disengaged style rather than reveals it. Plus this story focuses on beginnings instead the sadness that permeates most of the other ones, so you're really pulling for the main character as he calmly deals with the loneliness of being isolated in a strange country without much money. show less

I love the concept of this memoir. It's not a memoir of Lahiri's life, just her obsession with learning and speaking Italian. I can relate, having lived in Italy a while and falling in love with the language, but my desire to learn it is nowhere near Lahiri's. Finding out that it's actually a memoir of learning another language really made me love the title too.

She also read the audiobook herself, which is something I always love. Don't get me wrong, I get the point between needing a show more separate narrator for books, but I especially love a memoir read by the author. It's not common, but I have run across those who don't. I enjoyed the audiobook and her manner of speaking throughout it. Lahiri has a beautiful voice.

As far as her obsession itself and the many methods by which she went through the process of learning Italian, I am pretty inspired. I've been struggling with Spanish my whole life. I'm Cuban on my mother's side but also first generation American born there too, so Spanish had been her first language and that of most of her side of the family. I could talk to them with limited ability to speak but a lot of understanding what they were saying as a child but I couldn't speak Spanish. Most of them know English by now too but inevitably return to their first language when they're together. I catch snippets, but that's about it these days. I just haven't been in a Spanish language environment enough to sustain what I knew since I moved out.

BUT Lahiri's idea to start a journal or diary in that language is genius. Even if it's all wrong, there is this safe space for trying pull the language out of your own brain, for trying to put together sentences when there is time to do so. One of the things that has driven me crazy about learning Spanish is the way people are always like "Just go out there and talk to people" and "immersion is the best method!" Somewhere along the way, these people missed that I am an introverted nerd who is uncomfortable and awkward enough speaking my first language in a group of strangers let alone a language that I am still trying to learn.

Given my experiences attempting Spanish, particularly since leaving Miami, I find all of Lahiri's methods inspired and brave. She moved to Italy to help herself learn Italian after she had tutoring and already knew two other languages. That's some dedication. I also love her stories about living in Italy and the comments she got. I was more like her husband, getting confused for locals all the time, but I witnessed plenty of interactions like she talks about when out with friends. Of course, I'm terrible with language and added this other awkward layer to the situation because I looked like a local but couldn't speak it and many of my more Caucasian or non-Hispanic friends stood out like a sore thumb but spoke beautiful Italian. It happens in Miami too with some fluent friends. It's always fairly entertaining, especially with my father who is blond with blue eyes and very fair skin. People will be speaking Spanish around him like he's not even there and sometimes talking about him and he'll smile and ask a question in poorly accented but good Spanish and everyone freezes.

Getting back to Lahiri, the book is quite short though. I listened to the audiobook which is almost 7 hours but is read in both English and Italian. The content ends up being about half that, and you could listen to both languages but I didn't. I also loved her note that she originally wrote the book in Italian and specifically did not do the translation into English on her own. I can't get over that she wrote it in Italian in the first place.

This is a great book about Italian and language and obsession. I loved every minuted of listening to it and plan to employ some of her strategies. show less