Mohsin Hamid’s new novel, The Reluctant Fundamentalist, is getting quite a lot of publicity this week. I’ve been an admirer of his first novel, Moth Smoke, which I think of as giving a fresh, entertaining image of the changes occurring in urban Pakistan in the globalization era. It also has an irreverent, off-beat style, somewhat reminiscent of Upamanyu Chatterjee’s English, August. When I’ve taught it in courses on South Asian literature, I’ve found that students really tend to latch onto it — often more than writers like Ghosh, Rushdie, or Mistry.
Initially, I’ve been less than enthused about picking up Hamid’s new novel, along the lines of: do I really need to read another book about the tension between fundamentalism and modernity? This ground has been covered so many times already — starting with The Satanic Verses — that one doesn’t expect to be surprised. But the more I hear about the novel, the more interested I’ve become.
A good place to start might be the 20 minute interview Hamid did this week with Terry Gross, where (among other things) they spent a fair amount of time discussing how having or not having a beard affects how you’re perceived, in both Pakistan and the UK/US. Apparently this is a major theme in the novel as well; as a dariwalla (bearded person), I approve. I gather that Hamid’s point here is, if you want to grow a beard, grow a beard — don’t shave just because others might perceive you as a religious extremist.And there’s been other prominent coverage of the book, including an interview where Hamid discusses his allusions to Camus’ 1957 novel The Fall:
The Fall is very clearly a model for this novel – both in the first sentence, and throughout the book I try to acknowledge Jean-Baptiste (who is present in the Chilean publisher who Changez meets later in the book), it’s something I did very consciously. In 1957 this idea of trying to break down the individual, and debunk the notion of us being good – something literature and the world has done very successfully – was quite radical. Now no one goes around thinking the individual is good; we’re all tarnished. If you look behind anyone you find all sorts of stuff. What’s surprising given that, is that notions of larger collectives haven’t been debunked as thoroughly. We indulge ourselves in larger narratives that remain fundamentally good. Somehow, there is an emotional tribal feeling that remains. And that tribal feeling is actually particularly encouraged in America, as the only victor of the Second World War still standing. And in the Muslim world, it’s a sense of decadence and decline and impotence, which causes people to reach out for a similar type of decadence.link
More in the political vein, I’ve been impressed to see Hamid directly challenging Pervez Musharraf’s recent actions against Pakistan’s judiciary in the Daily Times:
Like many Pakistanis, I knew little about Justice Chaudhry except that he had a reputation for being honest, and that under his leadership, the Supreme Court had reduced its case backlog by 60 percent. His suspension seemed a throwback to the worst excesses of the government that General Musharraf’s coup had replaced, and it galvanised protests by the nation’s lawyers and opposition parties, including rallies of thousands in several of Pakistan’s major cities yesterday. (link)
I would definitely recommend reading the whole thing above — Hamid voted for Musharraf in 2002, but has grown increasingly disillusioned.
And the interview with Hamid in Tehelka from August 2006 was pretty striking — actually quite confrontational in tone. Hamid feels the Indian media (even Tehelka!) has a somewhat hysterical attitude about Pakistan, which is perhaps borne out by the interviewer’s own rather bizarre choice of questions (“What about Pakistan makes you blanch?” ?!?). In general, I think Hamid makes some good points, especially on the Indian media’s tendency to immediately point at Pakistan whenever there is a bombing — irrespective of whether the evidence warrants it:
I think India is terrified of looking inside itself because if a homegrown Indian Muslim group has done this in Bombay, you’d have massacres. India is a tinderbox so it’s forced to look outside. Who’s backing the Naxalites? People out of Nepal? Who’s backing the Muslim groups? Pakistan and Bangladesh? There are a billion Indians, many of whom are very upset with the government and could certainly be involved. In Pakistan, we have sectarian bombings all the time. Certainly one could say these are the work of Indian intelligence agencies. Perhaps they are. But I think it’s a mistake to look at these problems in this way and ignore what is often a very strong domestic component. I think Pakistan is right now desperate for a peace deal on Kashmir. Musharraf — like him or not — is bending over to find some compromise. But India is completely uncompromising. It prefers the status quo so any time there’s a bomb in India, it can be blamed on Pakistan. (link)
Well, I’m not sure whether what Musharraf has put on the table regarding Kashmir is really a workable compromise. And overall, I think I’m more anti-Musharraf than Mohsin Hamid is; I’m a little surprised, for instance, that he’s not saying anything in these pieces about Mukhtar Mai or the status of women under Pakistani law as he considers Musharraf’s legacy. (Then again, one should probably bear in mind that that was published last August — the piece in the Daily Times I linked to above is a better reflection of his current view.)
Incidentally, one other short piece by Hamid I would strongly recommend is “Down the Tube”, published last summer in the Independent.
I was also interested in Pankaj Mishra’s recent review of Hisham Matar’s In the Country of Men. Matar is a Libyan novelist, writing about life under the shadow of Qaddafi. Like Hamid, his book has been getting prominently displayed in the Barnes & Noble stores near my house — it clearly seems to be doing quite well. Are publishers trying to make it into the “next” Kite Runner?
What’s striking from Mishra’s review is how personal, even intimate, the novel appears to be, despite the backdrop of state repression, disappearances, and torture. One quote Mishra pulls from the novel struck me as being particularly memorable:
Mama and I spent most of the time together—she alone, I unable to leave her. I worried how the world might change if even for a second I was to look away, to relax the grip of my gaze. I was convinced that if my attention was applied fully, disaster would be kept at bay and she would return whole and uncorrupted, no longer lost, stranded on the opposite bank, waiting alone. But although her unpredictability and her urgent stories tormented me, my vigil and what I then could only explain as her illness bound us into an intimacy that has since occupied the innermost memory I have of love. If love starts somewhere, if it is a hidden force that is brought out by a person, like light off a mirror, for me that person was her. There was anger, there was pity, even the dark warm embrace of hate, but always love and always the joy that surrounds the beginning of love. (from In The Country of Men; link)
Mishra also favorably reviews Laila Lalami’s Hope and Other Dangerous Pursuits, which is another book that I’ve had on my “to read” list for quite awhile.
thanks amardeep. always look forward to reading your recommended books. i really enjoyed the gurkhas and the pandita ramabai books you discussed on this blog. im sure these two will be good, too.
Interestingly in the link from his column, he says how his sister a journalism lecturer is quite happy when it comes to funding. However, a journalist friend of mine who works for the Post out of Lahore was saying that in recent times the freedom of the press that they had enjoyed for a long time has reduced quite a bit with a lot of Govt. pressure (in the form of suggestions and threats for removing Govt. funded advertisements from their paper) and the people in various media are quite unhappy.
An excerpt from Mohsin’s novel was in the last issue of Granta. Very engrossing. And the voice was really consistent, something difficult to do in a welcome to my world novel.
I enjoyed Moth Smoke too, except that the part of society it describes does not read like the average Pakistani existence in the way that Mistry may do. There is an element of privilege that makes me think – aren’t these the people that have propped up Pakistani generals for so long? Are they complaining because they can now party only 20 hours instead of 24 in the day?
The Reluctant Fundametalist sounds much more relevant.
MA also had a great piece in last weeks’ Telegraph about green cards and choosing to live in Britain.
It great to see people taking time to list to Mohsin Hamid, he represents one of the other facets of Pakistan which hardly ever gets displayed.
Oh darling. We can still party all 24 hours. And most of us are planning to, what with the delightful young man trying to get the prohibition against alcohol overturned. Not that it matters, because we’ll fly sushi in from Dubai and just do lots of coke instead.
cough Sorry. Got carried away for a minute.
Amardeep, you know I love you, but I don’t think Moth Smoke was worth the read. I found it giddy, with a strange underlying hysteria, and quite frankly, just not very well-written. I don’t think the changes you referred to were either fresh or entertaining though, it’s just that we’ve not had a Pakistani writer with any interest in the present for a long time. What Moth Smoke provoked in me was annoyance, although what AT, I’m still trying to figure out. Something about the glibness of his “Look at what Pakistan’s REALLY like!” (wink-wink, nudge-nudge) ticked me off. I may have to go back and re-read it, see how I feel about the whole thing.
He’s coming to Stanford this Monday as part of his book tour.
Sin, I see your point. What I didn’t say in the post is, despite my sense that the novel is entertaining, it has to be considered a “light” read — and it’s a bit sad that students seem to prefer him over more substantial contemporary authors.
I also think I can understand why as an insider to Karachi’s night-life his presentation might be annoying to you. Keep in mind that most of my American students have never heard of Karachi before they take my classes!
If by chance, you ever write your own novel about your experiences, you know who to send it to…
I wonder what “(even Tehelka!)” means.
Amardeep, I haven’t read Moth Smoke (and now I am somewhat less likely to) – but I did listen to his interview with Terry Gross. I’ve also read the other linked articles. He comes off as unusually defensive about Pakistan, his Harvard-Princeton-Stanford pedigree not having given him a perspective with the detachment or sensitivity one would expect. His sense of class entitlement appears phenomenal. His interview with Tehelka is borderline denialist, and exposes, among other things, the extent of his cluelessness regarding current events in India. Though he concedes India’s ‘galactic vastness’, his naivete regarding India seems similarly vast. I was really struck by his attempt to suggest the Mumbai train blasts might be the work of ‘Naxalites’, something that would be laughable even coming from a crass propagandist.
On the beard issue, his story confirms that ethnic populations internalize some of the worst, most damaging stereotypes about their own co-ethnics, and that the problem of discrimination and prejudice within ethnic communities can be more serious than that from other ethnics or the majority community (not to minimize those).
His novel may be interesting, however, in adopting the literary device of a conversation with only one side appearing in print. The excerpt he read out seemed quite tantalizing!
Shivam, I was referring to Tehelka’s reputation as a more liberal/progressive paper (though I know that they are not at all like the first version of Tehelka). Perhaps I simply don’t read enough Tehelka these days to have a strong fix on the editorial slant.
Chachaji, just one thing — I don’t think he’s suggesting that the Mumbai blasts might have been done by Naxalites, but rather that there is a trend to look for foreign connections when the Naxalites commit acts of violence in various places in the eastern states.
The test is: can you find another Indian publication that where a Pakistani would speak like this about India?
On the contrary.
I found Hamid’s approach nuanced. He has that ability to look at different sides of an issue that’s essential in a good writer. He’s distrustful of causes, and he has dealt with whatever fears he might have had about cheap accusations like yours. That’s worth listening to.
And the brother has a really good reading voice. More power to him.
This is a great post. I thought for the longest time that I was the only person who had even heard of Moth Smoke. I met Hamid on his book tour of Moth Smoke years ago and he mentioned that there might be a movie based on the book. Anyone heard of that happening?
Amardeep, if you can get me a book deal, I swear to you, I will quit my full-time “real” job and collate the entire damn’ blog into an actual book. I just need royalties on which to survive!
I’m for peace between India and Pakistan but it should be durable and which can only be achieved when Pakistan has elected democratic leaders. Musharaff has no right to discuss any deals within or outside the countires.
Amardeep, Does this happen with American books too? What contemporary Amercican authors do they gravitate to? Has the McSweeney effect taken hold among under grads?
I heard the Terry Gross interview too and now am eager to get a hold of “Moth Smoke” since everyone is talking about it.
Neale, I don’t think it’s McSweeney’s so much as it is the desire for books that “go down easy.”
Hey, I just got his book and started it today! It’s pretty interesting, and desis from many backsgrounds will be able to relate, not only Muslim men. He talks about NYC also!