Resumo de The God Of Small Things

The God of Small Things

By Arundhati
Roy

Arundhati Roy, who won the coveted Booker Prize
for this book, says it tells a sad story. Indeed it does so
but the real beauty of her pen leaves the reader pondering
as to whose story it is all about. This is indeed a story
of stories ?of two unfortunate twins grappling with the
pathos of their twisted providence, of social hypocrisy in
a male-dominated society; of fake morals of progressive
Marxists and religious fundamentalists alike; of a
determined woman taking the world by its horns ?..The
stories are commonplace but not the pathos.

Little
events and ordinary things- these are the ingredients that
Roy employs with remarkable authority and style ? the
humour is poignant, the language bears a fresh appeal, the
metaphor is strikingly outstanding, and the meticulous
detail is at its inventive best. Bit by bit, the story
unfolds through the eyes of the hapless twins ? Estha and
Rahel and yet, Roy makes each character come alive only
through their spectacles. In the innocent surveillance of
the delightful twins is packed a wealth of human insight,
and refreshingly devoid of arid psychology.

You can
see every character influencing the twins? lives in true
splendor - their nagging grand aunt Baby Kochchmma; their
privileged cousin Sophie Mol; her proud father Uncle
Chacko; her determined, over-protective mother Margaret
Kochamma; the convenient morals of their grand parents
Mammachi and Pappachi, their indifferent father Baba far
away from their reach; their unfortunate mother Ammu ?
fighting a losing war on her terms and last but not the
least; Velutha ? the untouchable rustic lad whose death is
clearly one of the most poignant in literature till date
and of course, the kids themselves ? Rahel, the girl with
her devil-may-care adventurous spirit and Esthapen, her
brother with his quiet resignation .

Long after you
have kept the book aside, the words continue to haunt you
in a delightful trance. There have been few before Roy who
have seen nights suffused with sloth and sullen
expectation; hot brooding months with long humid days;
gardens full of whisper and scurry of small lives; the
queer compassion of the very poor for the comparatively
well-off; religions seeping into places like tea from a
teabag; society?s circus in railway stations inviting
despair with the rush of commerce; long, oiled hair of the
morally upright who lay down laws who should be loved and
how. And how much.

Yes, this is a sad book that
fills the reader with some innate joy ? the elation is
clearly beyond words.

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