Review: The Ministry of Utmost Happiness
A veritable journey of a read, and not one I can say I enjoyed the entire time. 3/5 stars.
I'm an Arundhati Roy STAN. It's true. Aside from J. K. Rowling, she is the author whose works I've purchased the most. I had really high hopes for The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, and I really did enjoy it for its political commentary, but I can't help but look back and feel just a bit disappointed overall.For one, Roy wrote this book for South Asians only. There were so many random objects and words and allusions that I only understood because of my Indian upbringing, and while it was nice to see my culture represented, I couldn't help but feel bad for the 1st and 2nd generation immigrants who are just a little more removed from the culture as me, and who might have felt really excluded by these blips of necessary insider knowledge. I also feel like these moments were frustrating for me as a western reader, because so many nuances were lift open to misinterpretation. Perhaps this was an intentional move on Roy's part, but I feel that something so heavily political ought to have messaging that is both inclusive and accessible.I was also frustrated by the writing which seemed to be setting itself up for melodramatic caption usage on teenagers' instagram accounts. One example was
What did she think of herself? Not much, or quite a lot, depending on how you looked at it.
Phrases like this popped up throughout the book. While the theme of counterbalancing forces is explored in very interesting ways throughout the novel, Roy also lowered her standards in what seems like an unsuccessful attempt create a mysterious mood. I really found this strange, because in all of the other works by Roy, I've found her writing to cut straight to the point to make powerful arguments about many social issues. It was a little cringe-y reading stretches of this discursive prose.On the other hand, I really enjoy Roy's ability to build empathy in her readers. By reading this book, I felt as though I truly know and care more about certain marginalized groups in India whom I was only peripherally aware of before. 'The Ministry of Utmost Happiness' inspired me to independently do a lot of research and even write an 18 page paper for school about political issues affecting India's poor and marginalized castes. Roy achieves that sacred and lofty goal of writing a book that makes its readers better people, even if her messaging is somewhat heavy handed in places. I think this was mostly achieved through her character development, especially because I found the plot to be disjointed in places.Anjum and the rest of the Hijras were my favorite characters in this book, and they were the reason I got drawn in. For context, "hijra" is a term for transgender women, who often live in harems in India. They are ostracized, heavily stigmatized, and feared, but some people consider them holy. Many Hindu gods are canonically androgynous, and there are those who believe hijras have a special connection to the goddess Parvati. During British colonial rule, hijra communities were criminalized.The discussions about gender, class, shame, and self-worth that came forth from these characters was a refreshing angle for a novelist to employ in discussing Indian culture. I loved that these characters formed a family of powerful women who supported each other through the ugliest hardships, and who also got to see their struggles vindicated in big and small ways. These characters' storylines dismantled many of my assumed mental frameworks of motherhood, friendship, and love. Especially in India, stories like these are so necessary in the long fight to bring human rights and dignity to all people.An exchange in the book that really stuck with me was when a young boy who is questioning his own identity talks to a hijra named Nimmo, who creates a profound analogy:
"No one's happy here. It's not possible. Arre yaar, think about it, what are the things you normal people get unhappy about? I don't mean you, but grown-ups like you- what makes them unhappy? Price-rise, children's school-admissions, husbands' beatings, wives' cheatings, Hindu-Muslim riots, Indo-Pak war— outside things that settle down eventually. But for us the price-rise and school-admissions and beating-husbands and cheating-wives are all inside us. The war is inside us. Indo- Pak is inside us. It will never settle down. It can't."
Despite the potent narrative power of the hijras' perspectives, the book sadly shifts to focus more on a group of characters who who are largely unrelated to the them. These other characters– Tilo, Musa, and Naga– met during college, but later get caught up in fighting and politics along the border between India and Pakistan. Years later, the war brings them back into each others lives. I genuinely disliked these characters' angst, and often wondered if they were only being included as an excuse for Roy to show off knowledge about the inner workings of the government, which played a large part in their reunions. The character, Tilo, struck me as especially shallow and unsympathetic, and it frustrated me that so much of the novel was centered around her. Between the 50% and 80% progress benchmarks in this book, at the peak of Tilo-time, I truly considered giving up reading the book entirely. I only continued to read in order to return to the Hijras in the end, and to justify the many hours I had already sunk into the story.Overall, I could only give this book a 3/5 rating, at least on the first go. Roy's writing is undeniably rich and I'm sure a second read will uncover layers of depth I hadn't noticed before, but after struggling on and off with this book over the course of 4 months just to complete it once, I doubt I'll have the energy to pick it back up for at least another year. I wouldn't recommend this to anyone who isn't already familiar with Roy's work and the political climate in India.Just as the main characters push boundaries and resist oppression in their respective communities, anyone thinking of picking up 'The Ministry of Utmost Happiness' should be prepared for a challenge and for a book that fights its readers back.