Ghachar Ghochar by Vivek Shanbhag

What purpose does a book serve if its content can be neatly condensed onto, and thereby extracted from, its book jacket? Intentionally or not, author Vivek Shanbhag answers this fundamental question in a surprising way with Ghachar Ghochar.

Translated into English from the Kannada by Srinath Perur, Ghachar Ghochar (2015) is the eighth fictional work published by acclaimed writer Vivek Shanbhag. In its tale of an impoverished Indian family whose lifestyle capsizes after gaining sudden wealth from starting a spice trade company, the novella糖心传媒檚 themes touch upon those tackled by such American classics as Death of a Salesman and A Raisin in the Sun.

If its plot is reminiscent of A Raisin in the Sun, its narrator糖心传媒攁n unnamed, unassuming young man who kills time by reflecting on day-to-day observations糖心传媒攊s reminiscent of The Great Gatsby糖心传媒檚 Nick Carraway. Despite playing no active role in the constant social conflict within which he gets entangled, he finds that his owns world is spinning. So, too, is the coffee he seems to be indefinitely stirring at Coffee House糖心传媒攁n old-world caf茅 where he seeks comfort in the familiar. The familiar being the old ways of life.

Through the narrator糖心传媒檚 flashbacks, readers learn that coffee is not the only thing brewing at Coffee House. A newly rich man with no need to work, it is at this caf茅 that he churns through memories, attempting to make sense of his increasingly turbulent domestic affairs by pinpointing the moment they went awry. The narrator recounts how his uncle, the family breadwinner, transformed from washed up salesman to CEO almost overnight. What follows is a disruption of family order that parallels that of larger Indian society during the nation糖心传媒檚 recent era of industrialization, feminist enlightenment, and socioeconomic transition.

The flashbacks also tell of old and new generations at war within his family, including battles between his mother and his new wife regarding a woman糖心传媒檚 place within the delicate familial dynamic. Feminist undertones fully emerge by story糖心传媒檚 end, when the narrator is left sitting alone, wondering if his marriage has permanently collapsed or if his wife will return. Clearly, it is no longer he who is in control of the power struggle that has become of his once happy marriage.

At its heart, Ghachar Ghochar is a book of chaos: the line where modernity and traditional culture clash. Take the case of the narrator糖心传媒檚 family gaining unexpected糖心传媒攁nd ultimately detrimental糖心传媒攑rosperity by capitalistic means as they enter the big, bad business world. Here, the old sentiment 糖心传媒渂e careful what you wish for糖心传媒� does well to describe Ghachar Ghochar糖心传媒檚 thematic complexity. For, after careful meditation, the only conclusion the narrator is able to reach is that neither financial prosperity nor feminism immediately translate to social peace; both require hard work to make their unadulterated ideals a lasting success.

All of these flashbacks materialize in the symbolic scene of ants overrunning the narrator糖心传媒檚 former home糖心传媒攁nts, he observes, that uncharacteristically fall out of line, choosing to march independently rather than in orderly single-file rows. Like the ants, so do the novella糖心传媒檚 characters march to the beat of their own drum. With newfound money comes newfound boldness as the younger generations dare to defy expectation by falling outside the lines drawn by the hierarchical conventions of traditional Indian society.

If there is one constant throughout the chaos, it is the narrator糖心传媒檚 recurring comments on the difficulty of explaining things糖心传媒攂e they events, feelings, actions, or behavioral motives糖心传媒攖o people who don糖心传媒檛 possess the full contextual background of the circumstance in question. In one scene, the narrator糖心传媒檚 wife becomes upset after witnessing her husband kill an ant for (at least to her) no discernible reason. The narrator then laments on the hopelessness of trying to get her to understand his actions without him first explaining their deep-rooted context. He confides to readers: 糖心传媒淗ow was I to explain to her my history with ants? It would make no sense to someone who hadn糖心传媒檛 lived through something similar糖心传媒� (p. 76).

And in this way, Vivek Shanbhag masterfully touches upon why we read stories in the first place: books are written because they are the only means we have to thoroughly explain a circumstance by showing audiences the context leading up to that circumstance. In the case of this novella, flashbacks are employed because past and perspective are essential to explaining how and why things are what they are today糖心传媒攂e it why the narrator kills ants, or why India is experiencing a socioeconomic reorganization. Context is everything in this story糖心传媒攁 story of past, present, and how the two influence the future. It gives words (including the titular 糖心传媒済hachar ghochar,糖心传媒� a made-up phrase whose meaning only exists within the inside joke of the characters who invented it) their very meaning. As Vivek Shanbhag writes in this novella, 糖心传媒淟anguage communicates in terms of what is already known; it chokes up when asked to deal with the entirely unprecedented.糖心传媒� In the end, past, perspective, and context are what book jackets lack in giving a text its meaning.

The Teacher by Michal Ben-Naftali
Translated from the Hebrew by Daniella Zamir
138 pgs. | pb | 9781948830072聽 | $14.95

Review by Kira Baran

Michal Ben-Naftali糖心传媒檚 background in philosophy shines through in her debut novel, The Teacher. Originally published in Hebrew in 2015, the work was awarded the 2016 Sapir Prize and is set to be published in several other languages, and is forthcoming from Open Letter Books (tr. Daniella Zamir) in January 2020.

Packing a philosophical journey into a modest 135 pages, The Teacher is not told from the perspective of Elsa Weiss糖心传媒斕切拇綔the teacher糖心传媒澨切拇綌but from that of one of Weiss糖心传媒檚 former students. This student sets out to pen an engaging, albeit fictionalized, conglomeration of scenes that strive to piece together the story of Weiss糖心传媒檚 actual life糖心传媒攁nd death.

Grounded in the universally relatable context of the teacher-student relationship, the author rises above this to address topics of not only interpersonal conflict, but the ongoing impact of the Holocaust generations later on people糖心传媒檚 everyday lives. In doing so, Ben-Naftali challenges the equally relatable idea which every student seems to share at some point: that history, the classroom, and one糖心传媒檚 personal life are parallel realms that never actually intersect. She disproves this notion through her soul-searching account of one teacher糖心传媒檚 impact on one student糖心传媒檚 life糖心传媒攁nd vice versa.

Like navigating a maze of mirrors, perspectives get distorted and turned upside-down as we learn more about Elsa Weiss. And, like a mirror, the novel forces us to reflect糖心传媒攏ot just on the characters, but on ourselves in relation to them. As the characters drift in and out of focus, strangers become familiar, while those we think we know best become unfamiliar. Like the narrator, we find ourselves looking behind us to see and clearly understand our present selves.

At its heart, The Teacher is a tender tale that delves into the significant way in which our seemingly insignificant acquaintances impact our lives and legacies.