On Purpose and Community

Very broadly speaking, one's ability to feel fulfilled and happy in life is tied to two things:

1. Purpose - understanding, accepting, and following that which brings purpose and meaning to one's life; constantly pursuing "projects" to keep one engaged and stimulated.

2. Community - establishing a social circle - be it big or small. We are social creatures that need the company of fellow beings, no matter how reclusive we claim to be. Often times, the community around you is essential to feed your purpose, and to feel connected to something bigger than yourself. It is a means to look beyond yourself, to receive and give both tangible and intangible things that all add up to your overall well-being and happiness. 

I believe both of these things come together in one's definition of self-worth. Sometimes, you need one more than the other. Sometimes, you need to renew, reset, recharge, or reinvent your purpose or community, and it is a painful process. Especially as one grows older, or goes through major life changes like retirement or the loss of one's spouse, it's an extended community, the company of people around you that enables you to reinvent a sense of purpose by first cultivating a renewed sense of belonging. 

I often think it is plain luck and a blessing to be surrounded by people who foster positivity and love. These two wonderful books reiterate the value of recognizing and appreciating the blessing of loving people around you. Even when all seems grim, or without meaning, the right kinds of people around you will inspire you to find meaning, joy, and color in life. 

I loved both these books for their quirky wit and satire, the charming characters, and the simple but evocative writing. Both Fikry and Ove are similar protagonists in terms of their overall temperament. Ove especially reminds me of people in my life - crusty curmudgeons with a tender soul.  

I recommend these books for a feel-good read that also encourages you to think more deeply about the people in your life.

Reflections: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

A few years back, this book was talked about highly in every bookish circle. I waited for the hype to die down and gave it a read recently. It is indeed an uplifting and charming book that remains with you for a long time.

Guernsey, or better known as the Bailiwick of Guernsey is a British Crown Dependency in the English Channel. This little island was occupied by the German troops during World War II. After substantial research on this island, the author Mary Ann Shaffer has woven a bitter-sweet historical-fiction set right after the end of World War II.

In order to ameliorate the pain and bleakness of the German occupation, the inhabitants of Guernsey end up creating a Literary Society - the Guernsey Literary Potato Peel Pie Society. The story behind the Literary Society’s initiation is both sad and uplifting - it was literally an excuse that was concocted by a quick-thinking inhabitant to escape punishment from the German soldiers. What is a Potato Peel Pie? It was a regular dish that was served during the meetings - a pie made from potato peels, because there wasn’t much else to feed on. The title says it all - the hopes, positivity, strength, and communal harmony among a simple group of people who lived through five years of mistreatment and despair.

Back in London, Juliet Ashton is a witty newspaper columnist who successfully employed humor to diffuse the sadness and tension during the war. Although the war is over, she is still haunted by it and struggles to find her footing as a writer. But, this tale is full of happy, serendipitous events. She comes to know of the unique Literary Society in Guernsey and begins communicating with the members. Before long, she is in love with the island and the friendly people, and the writer in her is awakened. The rest of the book focuses on the stories Juliet discovers, and how they shape her book as well as her life.

A unique aspect of this book is that it follows an epistolary format - that is, the whole book is a series of letters exchanged between the various characters. The stories, the social scenarios, and characters unfold through the letters. I loved this novel element as it gives a lot of character to the book! But the downside to this narrative style is that it becomes much harder to define and develop the characters. It is a challenge to infuse distinct writing styles that tie with the character’s personality. So, some characters have identical writing styles, making them lose their individual “voices”. The characters are also not complicated or layered - they are either good or bad, which works well in this format.

Juliet, the protagonist is downright witty, humorous, and genial. And so are most of the other characters. Therefore, the overall tone of the book is quite Wodehousian. The phrases, the adjectives, the narration, the British tongue-in-cheek sense of humor is all Wodehouse-inspired, which is to say, I was smiling almost all through the book. And this is a delightful quality in a book that sounds so dreary and heavy with tragedies of war. The writing is eloquent and witty.

There is also a bit of Pride-and-Prejudice-inspired romance in this tale, which is predictable, but endearing all the same. Annie Barrows (the second author) is a children’s writer, so I could definitely see her influence seeping into the tale. Guernsey is turned into an idyllic sister of Avonlea (the fictional community in a Canadian island that frames the “Anne of Green Gables” series). Guernsey is projected as an Utopian haven, very much like Avonlea. The inhabitants also remind us of the friendly characters in Avonlea, each with a unique quirkiness, loads of goodhearted traits, and innocence. And the end of the book most certainly reminded me of a fun episode in Anne’s life, where everything just comes together to make a happy ending.

So, a book that is inspired from Wodehousian humor, children’s classics, and real, tragic, historical events - sounds like an interesting mix, doesn’t it? It is. For all its predictability, the contrived feel-good moments, and the horrific stories of war, the book is still a unique and uplifting read. It is also a pleasant treat for book worms, literature enthusiasts, and bibliophiles who turn to words, stories, and refined expression to take a break from life’s challenges. Mary Ann Shaffer writes - “I hope, too, that my book will illuminate my belief that love of art - be it poetry, storytelling, painting, sculpture, or music - enables people to transcend any barrier man has yet devised.” I cannot agree more. The book is a testament to the strength one can gain through communal harmony and interest in art. It also reiterates my belief that humor (and laughter) is the best healer.

The pages are filled with positivity, wit, hope, strength, kindness, and humaneness, in sharp contrast to the dehumanization of man during the war. 

Reflections: Bombay Time

I’m sure someone has noticed my recent trend in books. While previously I was guarded and lukewarm towards books written by authors of Indian origin, these days, I’m making up for my indifference by diligently scanning the library for the very same authors. I have to say that I am pleasantly surprised, both with myself and with the authors. Looking back at the books I have enjoyed and admired in the last few months, I’m thrilled to find that most were written by authors of Indian origin. I have been stirred and awed by the stellar writing prowess of Manil Suri, Abraham Verghese, Anuradha Roy, Salman Rushdie, and Indu Sundaresan. I’m proud of them, and of their beautiful writing that inspires and teaches. Therefore, I find myself in a quest to seek out books and authors that I have ignored for so long; to explore a genre I previously shunned out of the fierce protectiveness I felt towards my own country, home, and people, of the agony of reading about them in a less-flattering light, and of the fear of unearthing uncomfortable memories.

I’ve heard plenty of glowing praises for Thrity Umrigar, so I picked this book of hers. Let me cut to the chase before I embark on my rambling and state that Umrigar is yet another author I would go hunting for in the book racks.

This novel follows a different style of story-telling. It tells the stories of the different occupants of Wadia Baug, an apartment complex in Bombay, housing a well-knit Parsi community. In the throes of their late middle-age, the members of the community nostalgically look back at their lives and wonder at the early dreams, hopes and happiness their lives held, and the detours and disappoints that fate threw their way to break their wings of hope. Despite the uneven bittersweet journey they traveled, they were grateful for one robust pillar of support - the friendship of the Wadia Baug community. The novel is a seemingly simple story of the importance of community and companionship. But the stories are heavily layered with so many aspects of life, especially of life in Bombay.

This is a character-driven book, as some people would classify. The book teems with interesting characters, reminiscent of people we know, of people we probably are turning into, and of people we have struggled to understand. What I respect and marvel at is Umrigar’s honest and insightful psychological appraisal of these people. Despite the characters’ numerous flaws, she shows us the true person they are at heart. She articulates my hypothesis that people are inherently good, and even, simple. Yet, they become complicated, and sometimes reprehensible, because of the disappointments, tragedies, and painful experiences they are forced to go through. They continue to live life as their vulnerabilities, insecurities, guilt, regrets, and wounds threaten to never heal, and fester just under the surface.

For instance, we admonish and hate the gossipy, old woman in the neighborhood, but have probably never taken a moment to consider how her life had been before she became so; why she seems to unfailingly provide food and help when you need it; and why your parents implicitly trust her with their house keys, despite her petty talk and inquisitiveness. Or why the “apartment board” never fires the inefficient, ill-tempered, weak, watchman. Every person has a story, a reason for why there are they way they are. With a little empathy, and a little consideration, we look into the unsoiled person within them. Although we will continue to resent their flaws, their stunted maturity, their cloistered thinking, their intrusion and comments on your life, we need them just as much to establish a community and rely on their basic (sometimes, well hidden), harmless, good nature. We realize, grudgingly at that, that our quintessential Indian neighborhood does indeed do more good than the secluded islands of the western residential communities.

Digested Thoughts: Although at times I felt there were a tad too many characters and stories to keep track of, Umrigar beautifully unwraps the stories of six different Parsi families, and their connection to the Wadia Baug apartment complex. The stories cannot be more real, and honest, and they each involve the role played by Bombay - its boisterous, harsh, unforgiving part. They also shed light on subtle Indian customs, traditions, and its social and political dynamics that complicate life needlessly. As much as Umrigar emphasizes the benefits of being part of a community, she also brilliantly and subtly shows the flip-side. If we wrap ourselves too very tightly and comfortably in the safe cocoon of our little ethnic community, we remain ignorant, indifferent and callous towards the rest of the world operating around us. Secluding oneself within a community is just as bad as being intolerant of other communities. We all need to realize that we are part of something bigger than just our tiny community. It is important to connect with all of humanity, as being part of one big society. This is especially true of India, where there are a million different sectarian groups, that we tend to see ourselves as total strangers if we so much as move to a different religious neighborhood within the very same city. This feeling of being an alien if we step two streets away from our community, is the cause for communal tension and violence.

Anyway, to wrap up, I enjoyed reading this book, especially the character analysis, and will definitely recommend it. Umrigar's writing is simple, but evocative and insightful.