Arundhati Roy – The God of Small Things Audiobooktext
It’s a fairly short but abounding Arundhati Roy – The God of Small Things Audiobook novel, it’s true. characters but above all impressions, colors, a thousand images on India. the first novel that I read about this country was “La Mousson” by the American Louis Bromfield and I had come out (I was very young at the time) with the certainty that one could not make country more colorful, warmer than India. Bromfield, who had never been there, portrayed this country with a love that I did not find, for example, in EM Forster. WithArundhati Roy, who is Indian, this passion, which is often combined with a latent exasperation towards the caste system for example, is there.
But it is a drama which is lived here, in this heavy and lazy atmosphere, where the past and the present intermingle their slow weaving of spiders. From the start, we know that this drama revolves around the death of Sophie, the daughter of Chacko and his English wife, Margaret. The little girl, “Sophie Mol” as she is known when she arrives in India to find her biological father there, drowned fifteen years earlier in an accident which was disguised as kidnapping and murder by the great aunt of heroes, Baby Kochama.
With their mother, Ammu, also missing and died in decay, the twins Rahel (the daughter) and Estha (the son) are the key characters of the book. Two children born from the union of a civil servant father who was too addicted to drinking bottles for his wife, one day, not to end up asking for a divorce.
In these 60s which are coming to an end (the drama takes place in 1969), Ammu has indeed dared to divorce to return home, to her mother, Mammachi and her aunt, Baby. For those women who have known the days when the Untouchables had to back off, sweeping their own tracks on the ground, Ammu has no “legal status” – which the twins, flitting between. the Hindi and the English, deform into “Statue L’Egale.” Of course, they tolerate it, but they think the less: Ammu has something uncontrollable and masculine about her.
Also the grandmother and the great aunt do not feel extraordinary love for twins. Baby especially seems to really hate them. It is true that Baby is embittered …
When Margaret, who once also divorced Chacko to remarry an Englishman, becomes his widow, her first husband offers her to come and spend Christmas with her family, in Ayanemen. He hopes to see the only woman he has ever loved and, of course, the daughter she had given him, little Sophie.
And, despite Baby Kochama’s hopes, Sophie quickly sympathizes with her cousin twins.
From there, everything is in place and the piece can be played against the backdrop of the love that Velutha, the Untouchable, feels for Ammu. Shared love but love doomed to Death, we can imagine.
The final drama will result in the disintegration of the Kochama family. Chacko went into exile in Canada. Margaret will never forgive herself for bringing her little girl with her for this famous Christmas. Ammu will be driven from the house of her ancestors. Velutha … Velutha, you will see, alas! As for Rahel and Estha, they will be separated. The first will stay with her grandmother, the second will be, according to Baby Kochama’s expression, “returned to the sender”, that is to say to her divorced father.
At 31, Estha will return to the family home. But he will have become silent, as if Sophie’s death, Ammu’s affair and especially her disappearance had frozen him somewhere, between the Past and the Present. It will take all of Rahel’s love, coming back from the USA where she emigrated when she came of age, to bring him – a little, a little bit and in a very particular way – to reality, a reality where Baby Kochama, now 83 years old, is more than ever a stubborn and hateful parasite, in line with these fundamentalists of all stripes who, in the name of God, only know how to inflict misfortune and torture on their fellow men. Arundhati Roy – The God of Small Things Audiobook.
A beautiful book which should hardly be surprised that it has been so successful. Yes, there are meanders but India, in all its beauties and in all its hideousness, is it not, precisely, that meanders – our original meanders perhaps?