After a twenty year wait Booker prize winning author Arundhati Roy is back with her long anticipated new novel The Ministry of Utmost Happiness. One of my birthday gifts last month was a ticket to see Arundhati Roy in conversation at Birmingham Town Hall, this beautiful limited signed edition was part of the ticket price. It was a fascinating evening, which really only gave us the merest idea of the novel as so much of the questioning and Roy’s answers were political. While some of it went a little over my head, I was fascinated by the complex politics that Roy discussed, and realised that my knowledge of modern Indian politics is very poor.
“Normality in our part of the world is a bit like a boiled egg: its humdrum surface conceals at its heart a yolk of egregious violence. It is our constant anxiety about that violence, our memory of its past labours and our dread of its future manifestations, that lays down the rules for how a people as complex and as diverse as we continue to coexist – continue to live together, tolerate each other and, from time to time, murder one another. As long as the centre holds, as long as the yolk doesn’t run, we’ll be fine. In moments of crisis it helps to take the long view.”
Among the reviews of this novel I have already seen, there is some criticism. Perhaps that is inevitable with such a long-awaited novel. Written in the most gorgeous prose The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, is a novel of big ideas, and a large cast of characters, it has the complex political divisions which exist in India, at its core. It is both difficult to review, and endlessly quotable. (I don’t apologise for including so many quotes – they speak of this novel, far better than I can). Perhaps some readers got a little lost in those politics, I don’t know, but for me The Ministry of Utmost Happiness is a remarkable novel – and I loved it. Roy tells the stories of Anjum, Tilo and Musa, an abandoned baby an intelligence officer and others against a background of seething, politics. The novel spans many years, moving between Delhi and Kashmir, changing viewpoint, moving back and forth across the decades. It is I suppose, the politics, the stories of huge injustice and harrowing conflict that Roy most wanted to portray in a novel she took around a decade to write, but it is the stories of her wonderful cast of characters that make the reader keep coming back for more.
“She lived in the graveyard like a tree. At dawn she saw the crows off and welcomed the bats home. At dusk she did the opposite. Between shifts she conferred with the ghosts of vultures that loomed in her high branches. She felt the gentle grip of their talons like an ache in an amputated limb. She gathered they weren’t altogether unhappy at having excused themselves and exited from the story.”
It starts with Anjum – born Aftab – part of Old Delhi’s Hijra community – a community which has existed since long before the more accepted term of transgender came into use. Born with both male and female genitalia, Anjum leaves her family and finds a home of sorts with the Hijra community. She longs for motherhood, her desire driving everything she does. Later Anjum takes up residence in a graveyard, where surrounded by the dead she builds a makeshift shelter – which over time becomes the Jannat Guest house – home to other waifs and strays.
At Jantar Mantar gather many groups, intent upon political protest of varying kinds. The grievances of each group are explained and I assume it is this kind of detail that some readers got a little bogged down by. Anjum and several of her friends join the throng. Dr Azad Bhartiya is another of the many people on the pavement during those protests – a hunger striker he’s always there – and he sees everything. TV cameras have arrived to report on the protests, taking up much of the valuable space allowed to the protesters. In the midst of all this chaos a newborn baby is left on the pavement under the stars.
“Down below, on the pavement, on the edge of Jantar Mantar, the old observatory where our baby made her appearance, it was fairly busy even at that time of the morning. Communists, seditionists, secessionists, revolutionaries, dreamers, idlers, crackheads, crackpots, all manner of freelancers, and wise men who couldn’t afford gifts for newborns, milled around. Over the last ten days they had been sidelined and driven off what had once been their territory – the only place in the city where they were allowed to gather by the newest show in town.”
The baby is claimed by Tilo – spirited away – with the help of Anjum and others. Tilo was an architecture student once, from a Christian community in Kerala, she is – at the moment she rescues that child – a woman separated from her husband, enduring a difficult, painful relationship with her dying mother, still connected to the Kashmiri conflict through her great love for Musa, who she first met as a student. The narrative takes us to different periods in Tilo and Musa’s relationship, theirs is a love story which survives conflict, marriage to other people and years of separation.
“The silence between them swelled and subsided like the bellows of an accordion playing a tune that only they could hear. He knew that she knew that he knew that she knew. That’s how it was between them.”
This is a novel about people who search for a place of safety. It’s a novel of great beauty, and brutal conflict. It is brilliantly complex, breath-taking in its scope and ultimately a very human novel, there are tears and laughter, love and hate. There are images that will stay with me for a long time, particularly those of the Jannat Guest House, and the people who live there, and a father, deep in a valley in Kashmir writing a letter to the memory of his little daughter – who had always insisted on being called Miss Jabeen.
I was waiting for your review. I am so glad you enjoyed the novel. Musa’s letter was a heartfelt one and I liked how Roy ended on a positive note at the end with the simple sentence ‘Miss Jebeen was come’. Almost makes one believe that we can save the future inspite of so many problems.
I enjoyed the novel, and had a few problems with it as well; but I am not really sure what I wanted to cast out from the book. I felt Arundhati undertook a lot of issues in a single book but all are equally important. So I am kind of contradicting myself here. I am glad you loved all the characters. I was not fully convinced with Tilo, but I found Anjum to be a strong character.
Oh yes I think Anjum is the strongest character and I think that I will carry her and the memory of Miss Jabeen with me when I think of this novel.
I’m one of the readers who got a bit bogged down in it. I think it’s a heartbreaking book, which doesn’t spare the details. I’m sure that I didn’t pick up all the political and cultural references and I preferred the beginning, the story about Anjum, to the rest of the book. I was mostly bewildered in the middle but the ending cleared things up a bit for me.
The middle section is the most challenging section I agree. I found I learnt an awful lot from it though.
A other excellent review Ali. I had booked to go to the event at theTown Hall but couldn’t make it so was very glad to read this. Reviewing fine writing is difficult and you do make the characters come alive. I’m leaving this book on my maybe list for now.
I know that Arundahti Roy reads the audio book herself – she mentioned doing that during her talk. I think it would be wonderful to hear it in her voice.
What a lovely birthday gift. I love the sound of the book and the quotations you chose, I should learn a little more about contemporary India, and so I’ll definitely be looking for a copy to read when the time is right.
Yes, i realised I knew a bit about the Partition era and things that happened under Mrs Ghandi (Thanks to A Fine Balance) but modern Indian politics was a bit of a blank so I learnt a lot.
Great review Ali. Sounds like a very complex and ambitious novel, and although she may have bitten off a little more than she could chew, at least she made the attempt! 🙂
I know there has been some criticism and it is complex and ambitious but I don’t think she did bite off more than she could chew. I actually think it is a brilliant novel.
Given her interests in the last twenty years it’s not surprising that political issues are so prominent in this book. But I’m so glad she hasn’t gone down that path at the expense of the overall story and even more delighted that she hasn’t lost her skill in characterisation. It’s the aspect I loved about the God of Small Things
For me the characters and the overall story are wonderful and make this novel well worth reading.
I’m glad to read such a positive review of this since I have it on my list to read soon and frankly have been put off by the many negative reviews I’ve seen. I feel a bit more optimistic about it now… 🙂
It is a challenge in parts but if you’re prepared for that you will be fine. The beginning really gets you into the story of the main character Anjum. Hope you enjoy it.
I think books with a lot to say about politics and history will always be challenging – do you let those bits float by or keep looking stuff up. I think some people got lost in it but you’ve read enough Indian novels to understand the complexity and the social issues, if not being expert on the modern politics, and that helped you through. I’m really glad you got such a lot out of it.
The politics may sometimes feel like it takes you away from the story. And though parts were complex it all added to the entire picture of the country and the struggles within it.
Sounds just wonderful, not surprised that she’s gone for a meaty expansive novel full of ideas and references that have been percolating and that she has been involved with intimately during her time away from publishing. Can’t wait to read it, live your review and clear thoughts!
It definitely feels like a novel with a huge amount of thought behind it. Really hope you enjoy it when you come to it.
What a fantastic event to have attended! Is there something special about the edition you have even beyond her signature? Sometimes they have limited runs of those things and I’m always curious what marks the printings as remarkable. It’s wonderful, in any case, how the book on the shelf becomes a memory of the evening as well.
I don’t know to be honest. I suspect it is the same hardback edition. It is a very attractively designed book.
[…] The Ministry of Utmost Happiness by Arundhati Roy – has certainly divided opinion since it was published. I’m not going to pretend it is an easy read, I can understand people getting lost in the middle – but even those complicated political bits fascinated me. I loved it – and the characters have stayed with me since I finished it. It starts with Anjum – born Aftab – part of Old Delhi’s Hijra community – a community which has existed since long before the more accepted term of transgender came into use. Born with both male and female genitalia, Anjum leaves her family and finds a home of sorts with the Hijra community. She longs for motherhood, her desire driving everything she does. Later Anjum takes up residence in a graveyard, where surrounded by the dead she builds a makeshift shelter – which over time becomes the Jannat Guest house – home to other waifs and strays. Anjum is a fabulous character. […]