Reality Check

REALITY CHECK /Published in The Collegian, January 2008/

Interpreter of Maladies. Jhumpa Lahiri. Mariner Books / Houghton Mifflin Company, 1999. 198 pp. $ 12.00

          In an age of individualism and competitiveness, emails connecting people and when family is no longer a unit, but a collection of units coming and going on separate schedules, Jhumpa Lahiri’s Interpreter of Maladies is a poignant dose of reality, which evokes an emotional response in the reader by exposing the abstraction of people’s frenzied everyday lives.

          Interpreter of Maladies is a compilation of short stories dedicated to little, everyday tragedies, ordinary achievements and the magnificent quality of the commonplace. Lahiri concerns herself with the things from life that are closest to us, and through her characters’ experiences, she conveys a sense of urgency for love and happiness.

          All of the stories in the book, except for the very last one, are written from a third-person’s point of view. The narrator appears objective, but at the same time very close to the characters. This element enables the reader to see and understand every character’s perspective, empathize with them all and refrain from passing judgments. Along the way, we almost forget that the accounts are in third person, for we have gradually developed deep compassion for the people in the stories.

          In the opening story, “A Temporary Matter,” Lahiri’s characterization is vivid and eloquently delivered. Little details contribute to create a coherent picture of the lives that the characters live. Their habits, flaws and weaknesses make them remarkably human and so alive. We understand Shoba’s ennui who “pried the sneakers from her feet without untying them.” We clearly visualize Shukumar who “ran his tongue over the tops of his teeth; he’d forgotten to brush them that morning.” The ending in “A Temporary Matter” is one that’s unexpected and touching. We, the readers, find ourselves disappointed, not in a sense that we don’t like the ending, but in a personal, moving way. We are saddened because we’ve come to know these two characters so well, we’ve rooted for them throughout the story and we’ve genuinely wanted them to be happy.

          In “Sexy,” the loneliness that exists in the main character’s life is palpable. Lahiri has depicted her daily routines and little joys with such exactness and proficiency that the reader obtains a three-dimensional image of Miranda. The details that the author weaves into the story speak better than any classic descriptions: “He was the first to bring her a bouquet of flowers so immense she’d had to split it up into all six of her drinking glasses...”

          “Mrs. Sen’s” is written from a third-person’s point of view, however Lahiri has shown us her main character, Mrs. Sen, in an ingenious, adept manner as she has described her the way the eleven-year-old boy, Eliot, sees her. The author has expertly implemented dialogue in order to illustrate her characters:

          “Why do you do that?” Eliot asked.

          “To see how many pieces. If I cut properly, from this fish I will get three meals.”

The last story of the collection, “The Third and Final Continent,” is the only one told in a first person’s point of view, but what is even more interesting is that it’s written from the opposite sex’s perspective. The narrative reads almost like a memoir and has authentic qualities. The ending contains internal action and thought. It has a conclusion typical for an essay, in which the main character reflects upon the changes that have occurred in their life.

          It is very easy to get drawn into a world of grandiose plots and larger-than-life, multi-psyche fictional characters, and to overlook the simple things in life that Lahiri has beautifully observed in her Interpreter of Maladies.  Reading these short stories reconnects us to our fundamental human core, makes us reconsider our reactions to mundane everyday routines and reminds us to cherish the interactions with the people we love.