![]() ![]() ![]() Caste laid bare, abuse of all sorts, village life, wildlife, older women who somehow wielded all the power, Christianity living alongside Islam and Hinduism, communism, marches, injustice and also quite open fights against injustice, passion. In The God of Small Things, I saw uncovered every tiny detail of my India, my South India, to the extent I had one as someone who has lived nearly her whole life in the States. I’d felt a shadow of this same enormous, overpowering feeling - along with a welter of other chaotic emotions - when reading The God of Small Things for the first time. It’s the kind of book that makes you feel like you’ve lived several times over. When I put Arundhati Roy’s The Ministry of Utmost Happiness down for the first time, I breathed an enormous sigh - a sigh in realization that perhaps everything that needs to be said, has been, that a single book could contain so much of everything, so much anguish and joy and love and war and death and life, so much of being human. ![]()
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