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Book Review: Kynpham Sing Nongkynrih, The Distaste of the Earth (2024) | Jobeth Ann Warjri

By North East Indian Writing in English, Reviews No Comments
Cite this Essay

MLA:
Warjri, Jobeth Anne. “Book Review: Kynpham Sing Nongkynrih, The Distaste of the Earth (2024).” Indian Writing In English Online, 28 December, 2024, https://indianwritinginenglish.uohyd.ac.in/book-review-kynpham-sing-nongkynrih-the-distaste-of-the-earth-2024-jobeth-ann-warjri/ .

Chicago:
Warjri, Jobeth Anne. “Book Review: Kynpham Sing Nongkynrih, The Distaste of the Earth (2024).” Indian Writing In English Online. December 28, 2024. https://indianwritinginenglish.uohyd.ac.in/book-review-kynpham-sing-nongkynrih-the-distaste-of-the-earth-2024-jobeth-ann-warjri/ .

Named by The Conversation as one of the best books of 2024, Kynpham Sing Nongkynrih’s The Distaste of the Earth (2024) combines the mytho-poetic folk narrative of U Manik Raitong with contemporary reflections on love, politics, and society. In the context of Khasi folklore, U Manik Raitong is the archetypal figure of the muse, particularly of music and poetry and the creative arts.

Like the bard of Asterix fame, Cacofonix, Manik Raitong is at once a figure who is derided as well as one that is anachronistic—what he represents seems out of time for a world that is mired in greed, corruption, and anthropocentric views about nature and the environment (See Fig. 1). But while the figure of Cacofonix elicits laughter (even if in a wry, ironic fashion), U Manik Raitong evokes the opposite, steeped as his story is in tragedy. This is, however, unlike Greek tragedy, in which the hero’s unfortunate end is usually one that is destined through divine will.

Fig. 1: Cacofonix singing in Asterix the Gladiator (1988, 2004)

Nongkynrih has gone to great lengths to provide a fictional backstory to the story of U Manik Raitong. What becomes evident in the course of the narrative is that much of Manik’s suffering—save for the deaths of his mother, brothers, and father—has been caused by humans who have strayed away from the path of virtue, what the Khasis call ka hok. In doing so, the society that punishes Manik for his sin of loving the queen, is itself one that the Supreme Being or God has abandoned. Manik himself shares in this sense of spiritual and divine separation:

He cursed his destiny; he cursed his God; he cried out for vengeance and justice. All his family—gone! All his property—gone! God has taken away all his loved ones; man had taken away all he possessed. God was battering his soul, man his flesh! How would he seek vengeance against God, that unknown  and unknowable monster of a being? Or even against man? (Nongkynrih, Distaste 253).

And

God knew how I tried to save my sister! He knew how I rushed here and there looking for a cure, looking for a healer. But not a finger did he lift to save her. Futile were my efforts; futile were my prayers! Oh, the hard-heartedness of God!

And man? If God is indifferent and uncaring, man is active in his own evil. No sooner had my clan been wiped out than the syiem [king] and his myntris [nobles] started casting greedy and wicked glances at our wealth and possessions (Nongkynrih, Distaste 257-258).

A society that has lost the wherewithal to care for the destitute—Manik and his then-living sister being orphans—is one that lives without divine protection, as Manik himself knows. Atheism is the way out for Manik as divine intervention seems only to work on behalf of his adversaries. But while the protagonist is firm in his unbelief, Nongkynrih hints that Manik’s loss of faith might not be reflective of universal truths.

Nongkynrih frames Manik’s predicament against the larger society in which he lives. The novel itself begins with scenes from a pata kyiad or a drinking house/establishment. It is in the pata that we meet characters like Siewdor and Sapho who, as the author observes, drink because they need to drown their sorrows and the hardships they face in life. Siewdor, in particular, had lost a woman he loved to the callousness of his fellow soldiers while they were away on an expedition for the former king (Nongkynrih, Distaste 122-147). It is through these characters, who are pariahs like Manik, that divine retribution is carried out. They are the ones who keep the story of U Manik Raitong and Ka Lieng Makaw alive long after they are dead. Nongkynrih deftly explores the tension between unbelief (Manik’s) and divine will by making the folk a mouthpiece for the latter. As such, Nongkynrih’s novel comments on the power of quotidian remembrance in the face of forgetting and state oppression (Manik’s story is, in the novel, prevented from being told by order of the king).

Nongkynrih’s novel testifies to the power of storytelling to retrieve what has been lost. It speaks in the register of the man who swallowed the lost script, thereby giving birth to Khasi storytelling, philosophy, and worldview ever since the Khasis, as a community, have existed (Nongkynrih 2007: 16-20). Much of the details surrounding Manik’s “wretched” life have been lost. But his figure remains an inspiration for many who take up the pen to write and who choose to be remembered if only in songs.

Works Cited

Goscinny, René and Albert Underzo. Asterix the Gladiator. Trans. Anthea Bell and Derek Hockridge, 2004.

Nongkynrih, Kynpham Sing. Around the Hearth: Khasi Legends. Penguin Books, 2007.

_. The Distaste of the Earth. Penguin Books, 2024.

The Conversation. “Best Books of 2024”. December 2024 https://theconversation.com/best-books-of-2024-our-experts-share-their-standout-reads-244149

 

Header Image: Penguin Random House India

“Fiction or truth? I wondered”: A Gothic of/for the Nation-State | Sayantan Lahiri

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Review: The Light at the End of the World, by Siddhartha Deb, Context, 2023.

 

“This was a hungry novel, haunted by other writers, artists, ideas and historical events.”

                                                          -Siddhartha Deb, The Light at the End of the World

This sense of haunting and being haunted influences the novel and its characters. Deb tries to (re)imagine India’s imminent dystopian future through the lanes (and lens) of its violent history of the last two centuries. However, instead of taking the ‘top-down view’ of narrativising the history of the bourgeois, he chooses to paint micro-stories of humanity, struggle and anxieties.  However, the apocalyptic historical milieu looms large in the backdrop, impacting the characters’ lives and their choices. The sense of history Deb portrays in the novel is not one of continuity and poise, but a tale of its ‘apocalyptic ruptures’.

Like the Gothic genre, The Light doesn’t allow the characters to bury their deep-seated anxieties, rather it “offers ways of exposing, and articulating, some of the horrors and fears…” (Wisker 238). Deb’s language is unapologetic, blunt, and precise, deliberately unsettling the readers if they were reading comfortably.

This overt political meta-narrative is beautifully complemented by the delicate touch and care with which Deb carves out the characters and their milieu. The novel is structured in four sections, each a novella on its own, depicting stories of humanity and its quest amidst their dystopian catastrophic worlds, as the characters witness its boundaries and their insides collapse.

The first section, “City of Brume” recounts the story of Bibi, a journalist in Delhi in the near future. The city is described in the traditional Gothic tropes of entrapment, filled with uncanny characters like the anonymous “Monkey-man”, a zombie like figure who has returned after his supposed death to haunt the nation-state with the threat of exposing the secrets of its coercive and ideological state apparatuses.

“Claustropolis: 1984” situates the narrative in the Indian city of Bhopal, the site of India’s worst industrial disaster. The narrative shifts to the first person, an assassin who must hunt down his ‘kill’ before that disaster ‘outbreaks’. The sense of the weird is further developed by the anonymous boss of the assassin, who cannot be defined into traditional identities, and therefore is described in every paragraph using a long name: “That man an operator at a chemical factory on the Kali parade grounds” (Deb 145).

The third section, “Paranoir: 1947” captures the tale of a humble Bengali student, (Das) and his quest for a Vedic aircraft that can repel the impending genocide. Das begins with the stereotypical Romantic images of Bengal and its Gangetic planes. However, they are undercut by the unsettling metaphors that follow, which do not offer any sense of ease: “The leaves of the fossil-like banyan trees rustle. Invisible little ghosts scurry in the grass, stopping occasionally to tickle Das’s ankles” (Deb 221-2). Deb takes another quantum leap in the history of India in the fourth section, “The Line of Faith: 1859” which narrates the story of Colonel Sleeman and his troops who fight a rebellion to secure their alleged “super weapon” that will expel the British from India.

To some readers the novel may feel a slow read, with the subplots taking time to build up. However, this is a novel of moments, where Deb creates an aesthetic of the mundane—the unchanging, routine life of these characters. Their lives seem monotonous, only to be shattered by the apocalyptic ruptures of historical moments. In the third section, for example, the assassin’s comments are repetitive, with the refrain “FOLLOW AND PERFORM” (Deb 145) being repeated several times, that it almost gets instilled in the subconscious of the character as well as the readers.

Another traditional Gothic trope which links these sections together is the narrator’s fascination with insomnia, haunting, and nightmares. Deb mentions, on almost every occasion, in precise details about when the characters sleep (if at all), when they wake up, in which mental state, and their dreams/nightmares while sleeping. In the “City of Brume,” for instance:

THROUGHOUT THESE TURBULENT months, Bibi sleeps…[s]he sleeps like everything…has happened many times before and will happen many times again, an unending cycle of present, a loop to be broken only by some apocalyptic ruptures. (Deb 4)

Although The Light paints images of these “apocalyptic ruptures” of cosmic horror, it is perhaps more encouraging than the typical post-apocalyptic fiction. It defies any easy categorisation and generic expectations. It deliberately pushes boundaries—of genres, histories, and experience. Therefore, it is perhaps befitting that Deb quotes from Frankenstein in the epigraph of the epilogue in the quest for the “eternal light” (Shelley 3). We meet Bibi again in the epilogue in the Andaman Islands as she continues her quest. The choice of a space like the Andamans for the epilogue is telling: a floating island, distanced from the ideological body of India and its “imagined communities” (Anderson 22)—a space which was historically associated with punitive measures for ‘rebels’—provides Deb with the perfect milieu to paint a picture of the life of a rebel in exile; a space where Bibi, in the near future must continue her quest for her sense of the self and the world.

 

Works Cited

Anderson, Benedict. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. Verso Books, 2016.

Deb, Siddhartha. The Light at the End of the World. Context, 2023.

Shelley, Mary. Frankenstein. Penguin Classics, 1986.

Wisker, Gina. Contemporary Women’s Gothic Fiction: Carnival, Hauntings and Vampire Kisses. Palgrave Macmillan, 2016, https://doi.org/10.1057/978-1-137-30349-3 .

 

 

Sayantan Lahiri is currently working as an Institute of Eminence (IoE) funded Research Intern at the University of Hyderabad, India. The research project focuses on establishing decolonial Indian Research Methodologies (IRM) from Sanskrit Texts. After finishing his M.A. in English Literature from the same university, he wishes to pursue research in the areas of Postcolonial Gothic, Indian Writing in English, Ageing Studies, Posthumanism and Cultural Studies.

 

Page Header Image: Penguin Random House

Cite this Review

MLA:
Lahiri, Sayantan. “’Fiction or truth? I wondered’: A Gothic of/for the Nation-State.” Indian Writing In English Online, 23 October 2023, https://indianwritinginenglish.uohyd.ac.in/fiction-or-truth-i-wondered-a-gothic-of-for-the-nation-state-sayantan-lahiri/ .

Chicago:
Lahiri, Sayantan. “’Fiction or truth? I wondered’: A Gothic of/for the Nation-State.” Indian Writing In English Online. October 23, 2023. https://indianwritinginenglish.uohyd.ac.in/fiction-or-truth-i-wondered-a-gothic-of-for-the-nation-state-sayantan-lahiri/ .

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