Friday, March 22, 2024

കറുപ്പിനഴക്, നമുക്കു ബോധിച്ചാൽ മാത്രം...

 അങ്ങനെ നമ്മുടെ ഭൂമി മലയാളത്തിൽ കറുപ്പു കണ്ടാൽ കയറു പൊട്ടിക്കുന്ന രണ്ടു ജന്തുക്കൾ ഉണ്ടെന്ന് കണ്ടെത്തി. കറുത്ത വസ്ത്രമോ, കുടയോ, എന്തിന് കറുത്ത മാസ്ക് കണ്ടാൽ പോലും ശുണ്ഠി മൂക്കുന്ന ഒരുത്തനും, കറുത്തവർ നൃത്തമാടുന്നത് കണ്ടാൽ കലി കേറുന്ന ഒരുത്തിയും. എന്നാൽ എപ്പോഴത്തേയും പോലെ, ഇവിടെയും രണ്ടാണ് മലയാളിയുടെ നീതിബോധം. 

ഒരാളെ ജനമൊട്ടാകെ ഒത്തു ചേർന്നു സമൂഹ മാധ്യമങ്ങളിലും, വാർത്താ മാധ്യമങ്ങളിലും തകർത്തെറിയുകയാണ്. അവർ അത് അർഹിക്കുന്നുമുണ്ട്. എന്നാൽ രണ്ടാമത്തെ മഹാനുഭാവനെ കേരള ജനത കയറൂരി വിട്ടിരിക്കുകയാണ്. അങ്ങുന്നുമിങ്ങുന്നും ചില പരിഹാസച്ചിരികൾ കേൾക്കാറുണ്ടെങ്കിലും, പൊതുവേ എന്തിനുമേതിനും കമന്റ് ബോക്സിൽ ആർത്തട്ടഹസിക്കുന്ന പൊതുജനം കമാന്നുരിയാടിയില്ല. എന്തെങ്കിലും കാണിക്കട്ടെ, നമ്മളൊന്നിനുമില്ല, എന്നാണ് പ്രബുദ്ധ ജനതയുടെ പൊതുബോധം അവറ്റകളോട് ഓതുന്നത്. 

ഈ പ്രബുദ്ധതയുടെ ഒരു പ്രത്യേകത ഇതാണ്. ആവശ്യമുള്ള സമയത്ത് തികട്ടി വരും, അല്ലാത്ത സമയത്ത് അടക്കിവെക്കും. ഈയടുത്ത് വയനാട്ടിലെ ഒരു കോളേജിൽ കുറേ 'കുട്ടികൾ' സംഘം ചേർന്ന് കൂട്ടത്തിലൊരുവനെ തല്ലിക്കൊന്നു. രക്ഷാപ്രവർത്തനം നടത്തി എന്ന് പറയേണം എന്നാണല്ലോ നമ്മളെ പറഞ്ഞു പഠിപ്പിച്ചത്. ആ സംഭവമാണോ അതോ തലയ്ക്ക് വെളിവില്ലാത്ത ഈ കിഴവി നടത്തിയ ജല്പനമാണോ ഇവിടെ കൂടുതൽ ചർച്ചയായത്? 

ഇവിടെ ഒരു കലാകാരൻ ഇടി കിട്ടിയ വിഷമത്തിൽ (രക്ഷാ പ്രവർത്തനത്തിന്റെ ഭാഗമായിട്ടാണ്) തൂങ്ങി മരിച്ചു. ഇവിടെ കിടന്നു കുത്തി മറിഞ്ഞു, പോസ്റ്റിട്ട്, കമന്റിട്ട്, ആറാടുന്ന എത്രയെണ്ണം അന്ന് പ്രതികരിച്ചു? ഇത് വായിക്കാൻ മാത്രം ഭാഗ്യദോഷം വന്നുപെട്ട എന്റെ വായനക്കാരാ, നീയൊന്ന് മനസ്സിലെ പ്രതികരിക്കാനുള്ള ആ ത്വര അടക്കിവെച്ച് സമാധാനപരമായി ആലോചിച്ച് നോക്കൂ, നിന്റെ പ്രതികരണങ്ങളുടെ തോത് നീതിപൂർവമായാണോ നീ നിരത്തുന്നത് എന്ന്. മാനം നഷ്ടപ്പെട്ടവനു വേണ്ടി കരയുന്നത്രയെങ്കിലും ജീവൻ നഷ്ടപ്പെട്ടവനായി നീ കണ്ണീർ നീക്കി വെക്കുമോ? അത്രയെങ്കിലും നീതിബോധം നിനക്ക് കാട്ടാനാകുമെങ്കിൽ നീ പ്രബുദ്ധതയുടെ സമീപത്തേക്ക് നീങ്ങുകയാണ് എന്ന് പറയാം. 

ഇനി നീ പണ്ടൊരിക്കൽ ഒരു കറുത്തവനെ അപഹസിച്ച് ചവിട്ടിത്തേച്ച കഥ കൂടി കേൾപ്പിക്കാം. ഇന്നു നീ കറുപ്പിന്റെ മാനം കാക്കാൻ ഉറഞ്ഞു തുള്ളുന്നതു കാണുമ്പോൾ, എനിക്കു തോന്നുന്നത് നിന്റെയും നിന്റെ സാംസ്കാരിക നായികാനായകന്മാരുടേയും മുഖത്ത് കാർക്കിച്ചു തുപ്പാനാണ്. രണ്ടായിരത്തി പതിനേഴിൽ നമ്മുടെ മലയാള സംസ്കാരത്തിന് അടിത്തറ പാകിയ പ്രമുഖ പത്രം അടിച്ചിറക്കിയ ഈ കാർട്ടൂൺ ഒന്ന് കാണൂ. 

ഇതിനെതിരെ ഒരക്ഷരം മിണ്ടിയില്ല എന്നത്പോട്ടെ, നീചമായ ഇതിനെ ആഘോഷിച്ച പ്രബുദ്ധരാണ് നീയൊക്കെ. ബോഡി ഷെയ്മിങ്ങിനെതിരെയും പൊളിറ്റിക്കൽ കരക്ട്നസ്സിന് വേണ്ടിയുമുള്ള നിന്റെ പ്രബോധനങ്ങളുടെ യുക്തിരാഹിത്യവും അധമത്വവും പൊളിച്ചു കാട്ടുകയാണ് ഈ കാർട്ടൂൺ. ഇതൊക്കെ കൊണ്ടാടിയ നീ കറുപ്പിന്റെ അഴകിനെ പ്രകീർത്തിക്കുന്നത് കാണുമ്പോൾ പഴുത്ത് ചലം കെട്ടിയ പുണ്ണ് പഴന്തുണി കൊണ്ടു പൊത്തി വെച്ചതാണ് ഞാൻ കാണുന്നത്. 

Thursday, March 21, 2024

Book Review: Greta & Valdin by Rebecca K. Reilly

 Greta and Valdin, two queer siblings born into a multi-racial family in New Zealand, struggle to negotiate their tumultuous personal lives and careers. When his boyfriend Xabi abandons him and moves to another country, a heartbroken Valdin resigns his job as a physicist and takes up doing comedy shows. Greta is no longer sure of her choice of course in university, as there are no career prospects in comparative literature studies. The girl whom she loves is using her as a stepping stool, and her brother, with whom she shares a residence, supports her. Surrounded by equally eccentric relatives who have their own preserved secrets with them, they struggle to find a ray of hope in their grim horizons. 



Greta & Valdin is the debut novel of Rebecca K. Reilly, an award-winning writer from New Zealand. Coincidentally, my previous read was also set in New Zealand and had characters of Māori origin, out of which one was gay. It also talked about the discriminatory practices against Māori in New Zealand. While most of the characters in this one are half Māori or settlers from other countries like Russia or Spain, the novel paints a vivid picture of the perils of living under oppression. I received a review copy of the book from Random House UK, its publisher, through Netgalley in exchange for honest feedback. 


The majority of the novel is told from the alternating perspectives of its two main characters, Greta and Valdin, with a few other main characters joining them towards the end. All these narratives use a deeply personal tone that tries to build intimacy with the characters. It is through the detailed descriptions of the dreary daily routine and interactions of our protagonists with the other members of their family that the story proceeds. But it doesn't mean that the novel is a dry slog. 


The author uses humour to keep it interesting, even at times when we feel the plot gets static. By using humour, I didn't mean to say that you would laugh out loud while reading. This is the kind of laughter that you get while you remember an embarrassing incident that you went through in the past. While the situation gets embarrassing for the character, we, the readers who are sitting safely and far away from it, know that it doesn't matter in the long run. We smile because these obstacles that people are feeling unsurmountable are minor hiccups on their journey, and they will smile as we do now, sometime in the future, with the privilege of hindsight. 


It is also important to note that even when the unstructured plot flows without a fixed anchor, the novel manages to keep the reader's interest alive throughout its length. I won't claim that this interest level is uniform or maintains an ascending pattern. There are many places where it goes down for a few pages, only to bounce back. Some of the characters, who are close relatives of the protagonists, keep some hidden secrets from each other, which are revealed on the course. Even these revelations—many of them unexpected and some of them even life-altering—don't create any ripples in the plot. The writer manages not to focus on their dramatic effect and keeps the entire structure grounded and realistic. This, I believe, is a brave choice. 


I have written in a review of another book that the writer has a checklist of different social justice causes that she has to include in her story, and she ticks the last one off by the time it climaxes. This seems to be the case in this novel too, but the good news is that Reilly has skillfully integrated these causes into her novel, and none of them sticks out. She has also very convincingly captured the struggle between different generations to understand and tolerate each other. These are matters that we deal with regularly in our daily lives, and it feels satisfying to see them captured skillfully in a novel. 


My major complaint about the novel is that all the characters are portrayed as eccentrics. The protagonists—their parents, friends, colleagues, lovers, and relatives—all of them exhibit some kind of weirdness in their behavior. While it is true that we encounter very similar people at least once in our lifetime, Reilly has ensured that each of her characters is a specimen in itself. The constant description of chaos that ensues when more than two people meet in this novel undermines its personal and realistic style to a large extent. 


If you are very particular about the plot and structure of the novels that you read, it is better to avoid Greta & Valdin. Here, we get a bunch of characters who are at a low phase of their lives, struggling to find meaning amongst the chaos of daily existence and trying to understand how they came to be. We find them striving to get a foothold in their lives, control their careers, find love, support their loved ones, and exist. 

Sunday, March 17, 2024

Book Review: Sideways- New Zealand by Rex Pickett

 Twenty years have passed since Raymond Miles tasted the success of his breakthrough novel and the resultant movie adaptation. Tired of negotiating the dirty and crooked alleys of Hollywood, he has moved to New Zealand and taken up wine growing, finding enough time for writing a follow-up novel and for romance. But when his past catches up with him in the form of an email, he decides to throw everything away and return to the US after the impending book tour across New Zealand that his publisher wants to send him on. And what a crazy and life-altering spectacle of a book tour it turns out to be! 


Sideways: New Zealand is an autobiographical novel written by Rex Pickett as a follow-up to his Sideways series, the first book of which turned out to be a literary success and resulted in an acclaimed movie adaptation directed by Alexander Payne. I haven't read the book or watched its movie version. Though Sideways: New Zealand is a sequel and contains many allusions to the events in the previous books, it can be read as a standalone novel. The novel is a black comedy that explores themes like growing old, catching up with one's past, the decline of literature, and the grip of algorithmic culture that promotes only the vain and ridiculous. 

The novel is a first-person account by its protagonist, Raymond Miles, the alter-ego of the author, of his eventful and hectic book tour through the harsh and tempestuous New Zealand winter. Giving him company are Max, a special needs cat that he has adopted; Jack, his old actor friend who accompanied him on his previous journeys; Hana, his clueless novice publicist; and Amanda, Jack's producer girlfriend, who joins them late with her own agenda. The book tour consists of meeting up with several small book clubs, as his cash-strapped publisher believes that the era of book signings in book shops is over. 

The plot is pretty meandering and unhooked, consisting of unpredictable style choices that alter from slapstick comedy to biting dark humour to feel good melodrama. It unsettled me initially, though once I got a hang of the protagonist's mind and its tumultuous nature, I could comprehend the importance of this style. Miles is shaken by a revelation and has decided to forsake his future in New Zealand. It is with this mindset that he enters the tour. The tour turns out to be a disastrous affair with an uncomfortable vehicle, raging weather, and the realisation that his time under the spotlight is long past and his passion for literature is not finding resonance with the public. Thus, we find him on a quixotic quest, sleepwalking from one disaster to the next. 

The novel gives a pretty pessimistic view of the future of literature, which its protagonist mirrors several times in the novel. The number of serious readers is declining, and those remaining are mostly interested in stuff that is superficial and comes with wacky promotional stunts. Everyone, including the author, publisher, and those involved with books, has a certain agenda other than a passion for literature. All are always looking out for an angle that benefits them, like the prospect of a movie or streaming deal. We find that most of the characters try to hijack the book tour with an agenda, much to the horror of Miles, who is passionate about writing and literature. 

While giving a biting and satirical view of the present state of the publishing industry and readers who aren't passionate, Miles manages to find oases of solitary reading communities that still maintain their interest. We encounter a small town that reinvented itself through books and reading about its state of decay. We find homeless communities that bond over the written word. Though Miles is pessimistic, Pickett instills a ray of hope in his readers' minds. 

The writer's and his protagonist's affinity for wine and wine-growing introduces us to several nuances of wine-growing. We could also find several parallels between wine growing and literature, and between drinking wine and reading, as alluded to liberally in the novel. The novel also presents a bleak picture of growing old in the typical pessimistic fashion of Miles. He finds it difficult to keep up with technology, changing social norms, and even his past fame. He is uprooted from his origins and floats around like milkweed. When he aspires to settle down finally, he is again forced to deroot and repeat his past in a world that is far away in space and time from the one that's familiar to him. But even when Miles isn't so sure of what lies ahead for him, the book ends on an optimistic note, giving him a ray of hope to hang on and a promise to readers that his adventures will continue.

 

Monday, February 12, 2024

Book Review: Pity by Andrew McMillan

 The coal miners' union of the UK (NUM) started a strike in 1984, which the government of Margaret Thatcher tried to brutally suppress. The accounts of the union were frozen, and the funding was totally dried up. Other unions, including the steel workers, were also scared of persecution and failed to assist the miners. But unexpected support for the miner's struggle came from members of the lesbian and gay community in the UK.

Lesbians and Gays Support Miners (LGSM) was an alliance formed by different gay activists and organisations and was intended to fund NUM. This followed several interactions between these two extremely different groups, and they bonded over several shared issues like police discrimination, apathy from the government, and misrepresentation by the media. But ultimately, Thatcher quelled the miner's strike and started to act against the LGBT community. Though miners returned the support by actively participating in pride protests, the closure of major coal mines resulted in their becoming toothless. 


Pity is the debut novel of the British poet Andrew McMillan, written in this background and exploring the travails of a former mining town to forget its past and carry on. It deals with many interesting concepts, like social haunting, which considers that social violence done in the past continues to exist in societies even in the present, though these social ghosts are mostly concealed and express themselves through symbolism. I received a review copy of the book by its publisher, Canongate, through Netgalley in exchange for my honest opinion.

Though Pity is a nimble volume of around a hundred pages, it employs a dense plot structure that acquires the form of a collage, both in its narration and composition. It is made up of many snippets of small elements that are assembled together in such a way that it is easy to get oneself lost once inside it. Instead of picking and inspecting individual elements, it is necessary to stand a little bit back and view it in its entirety to appreciate its holistic beauty. The shortness of the book offered me the convenience of reading it twice to fully imbibe the workings of the plot and understand its intricacy.

The plot of Pity follows several narrations from the multiple, alternating viewpoints of several characters. The author uses different fonts to compose the story of different characters across time. We follow a man working in a coal mine and his next two generations. His children Brian and Alex, Alex's son Simon, and his lover Ryan form the major characters of the novel.

There are three strands of narration flowing in the novel. One follows the daily routines of the coal mine worker (mentioned only as he in most of the novel) and emphasises the perils and the dreary repetition of his life. We find several passages repeating multiple times with minor changes throughout this plot line. Another strand follows his son Brian, also a mine worker, joining the project of a group of academics who are trying to comprehend how the deep personal memories of people affected by a disaster differ from the overarching narrative of it that the larger section of society believes. We are given access to many of their research notes, which provide unique insights into this.

The third plot strand concerns Alex, the second son and a closeted gay who is ashamed of it, and his troubled interactions with his openly gay son and amateur drag queen, Simon. Simon is in a relationship with Ryan, who is apprehensive of Simon's pursuit of drag shows. Simon is trying to make it into an art form by parodying Margaret Thatcher and putting on a strong political show that criticises Thatcher's actions towards the miner's strike, which is the cause of the decline of their miner's town.

Though these three plot lines barely intersect each other, it is interesting to realise that each one complements the other two. It is only by following all three closely that the reader is able to fully comprehend the historic, societal, political, and personal implications of the plot in all its immensity, which is definitely far greater than the sum of the total.

Though a short novel, Pity is magnificently profound and a triumph of story-telling art. Even with its complex structure and multiple narratives, it ultimately manages to provide emotional fulfilment to its reader.

Thursday, February 8, 2024

Book Review: Kingpin by Mike Lawson

 What happens when two dominant men play their power games? Several powerless innocents become cannon fodder. When business tycoon Carson Newman gets to know that an intern working under politician John Mahoney has found something dirty on him, he decides to silence him. This starts off a chain of events that spirals into a cat-and-mouse game between several interested parties. Right in the middle stands Joe DeMarco, a lawyer who works as a fixer for Mahoney, taking care of all dirty jobs in which the former Speaker cannot directly interfere. DeMarco decides to deliver justice to the dead young man at all costs.


Kingpin is a political thriller written by Mike Lawson, featuring his "troubleshooter" lawyer, Joe DeMarco. The novel deals with power politics and how corruption has been normalised in the topmost echelons of the political spectrum. Businessmen and politicians form duplicitous arrangements in the shadows, helped by middlemen like agents and lobbyists. To aid them, they use petty criminals and assassins. Even if they are exposed, they always manage to find easy ways to escape the hands of the law through lawyers who are experts in subverting justice. I received a review copy of the novel from the publisher, Grove Atlantic, through Netgalley in exchange for my honest feedback.

The novel is literally an edge-of-the-seat, quick-paced thriller with many twists and turns in its plot. The writer is successful in constructing an engrossing tale where several characters do what is needed to keep themselves safe, even at the cost of another's life. At the same time, he has never let the narrative become too serious by preserving a thin strand of humour running right below the main plot. The novel starts as a high-level rivalry between two giants but soon becomes a fight between many minions on each side who are desperate to keep their turf and livelihood safe.

DeMarco, our protagonist, is one of my favourite kinds of characters in this genre of thriller. He is a reckless, resourceful, and quick-thinking person who never cares for appearances—literally, a loose cannon. Though he is a shrewd lawyer who is willing to go to any lengths to protect his boss's interest, he is also ready to give a tough fight when he really feels obligated towards some cause, ensuring justice for an innocent young man in this book. The other characters are also as colourful and eccentric as DeMarco. But even then, they are relatable to the reader because their basic intention is to somehow keep themselves floating in a dog-eat-dog world.

Kingpin by Mike Lawson is a crime thriller with a background of power politics and the criminal activities that happen in its back alleys. The novel is a reminder of a situation where bribing and influencing a lawmaker is normal and no longer considered a crime. It is a tightly plotted entertainer that made me want more of it.