[First published in YouthKiAwaaz]
It all began with Adam.
Doesn’t it always?
We met at a literary translation studies conference at Senate House, and it was through him that I first learned of the Centre.
Or….no, wait. Actually, pause. Rewind.
I should probably start with why I was at the conference in the first place.”
The first fifty words of Ayesha Manazir Siddiqi’s debut novel, “The Centre”, are clever and clumsy at the same time. Clever because the little wordplay and the introduction of the title of the novel into the text immediately draw you in. Clumsy because the words and style seem almost conversational. Both these descriptive words continue to swivel through the mind while reading the book.
The premise of the book is intriguing. The protagonist, Anisa Ellahi, was 18 when she came over from Pakistan as a student with dreams of achieving fame as the translator of important works of literature. Now, nearly two decades on, she was “living by myself, making mediocre karela cashew stir-fry,….. and pretending to make a living by writing subtitles for Bollywood films.” She meets and starts dating Adam, who has native-level fluency in ten or eleven languages. During the time they are together, she struggles to teach him even a few words of Urdu, but just before they fly to Karachi to meet her parents, she finds that he has acquired the ability to speak Urdu at the same level of fluency as her grandmother in just 2 weeks. Through him, she comes to know of a top-secret and super-exclusive program which promises fluency in just 10 days.
After breaking up with Adam, Anisa signs up to learn German at the Centre. Despite her scepticism, she emerges with absolute fluency in the language and proceeds to translate a slightly obscure German work, which is received with much critical acclaim. Though Anisa should be content with finally achieving all that she has ever dreamt of, she continues to remain unfulfilled. She is plagued with troubling dreams which clearly belong to “the Storyteller” whose narration she heard continuously for 10 days at the Centre. In her discontent, she reaches out to her Supervisor at the Centre and embarks on learning a second language. As she finds out more about how the Centre works, she continues pondering on the ethics of the immersive programme and whether the price extracted is worth it.
The Detailed Characterisation
Though told through her voice, the protagonist is extremely unlikeable. She is self-centred and ensconced within layers of privilege. Though she is a brown girl living in a racist society, Anisa’s class consciousness comes through in most of her interactions, especially in her interaction with her boyfriend. She looks down on her best friend’s boyfriend- though she justifies it by saying that her friend is consciously dumbing herself down to please him, it is clear that she also disapproves of him for who he is. She also, more than once, betrays both confidence and friendships without the slightest remorse.
The only recipient of her unconditional love seems to be Billie, the cat she jointly adopted with her boyfriend. Despite, or perhaps because of, being so unlikeable, Anisa comes across as a well rounded character.
The secondary characters are similarly well etched. Her best friend, Naima, goes through a complex character arc, which is extremely believable. That she is aware of what she is doing and still does it only makes it more poignant. Shiba, the Supervisor at the Centre, was probably my favourite character- independent, intelligent and caring. I wondered what she saw in Anisa that made her trust her so much. Through the characters of Anisa and Shiba, the author also brought home the fact about how quickly people living abroad adjust to a feudal lifestyle when they return home to India/ Pakistan.
Varied Conversations In ‘The Centre’
The book raises very pertinent questions about appropriation and assimilation. Can language be picked up through a brief but intense study, or should it be gradually assimilated through lived experiences? Can a person who achieves fluency in a language without having experienced the language be said to be truly fluent? At what point does assimilation through an immersive experience become cannibalisation?
The author describes how many multilingual people have “these sort of ‘neutral’ accents, the kinds of unplaceable dialects you sometimes find in third-culture kids or global cosmopolitan elites raised in the international schools and gated compounds of Oman or Turkey or Singapore”. She questions if it is a natural outcome of knowing multiple languages or because the speakers consciously or unconsciously strive for “unplaceability”. While the author talks about language and translation, one is reminded of R.F. Kuang’s recent best sellers “Babel” and “Yellowface”, both of which tackle similar issues. Who owns the language? At what point does learning and using a language not your own become colonialism and/ or exploitation? How should one value the contribution of a translator or an editor of a work? These are important questions, and while neither author gives any answers, at least the questions get flagged off.
The book also tackles themes of feminine friendships and relationships. She repeatedly talks about how women in romantic relationships allow their own fire to be dimmed so as not to outshine their heterosexual partners. She speaks of how female friendships are often devalued in a quest for a romantic relationship. Do women really need a heterosexual partner- can’t they survive and flourish even in the absence of romantic relationships as long as they have strong female friendships?
Despite being quite self-centred, Anisa consistently underplays her success and blames herself for every failure. This is a typical feminine trait, and it is often the most competent woman who suffers most from it. It is flagged off and left for the reader to ponder over or not. The other issue that is flagged off is the sexual dynamics at play in professional settings; the author brings up the interplay of consent and power structures and how men walk away from such encounters without having to pay any price.
The book is tightly paced. Though the story is set over several years, the pace lags and speeds up according to the needs of the narrative. Weeks pass by in a single sentence, while time slows down at when she is at the Centre. At a critical point in the narrative, we are presented with two scenarios, either of which might have played out- that we are kept guessing about which of the two scenarios took place in that blimp in time, only reinforces the point that is being made.
I would certainly recommend this book. Though 300 pages long, the pace of the book never flags. Many issues are brought up and left for the reader to resolve on their own. Towards the end of the book, you realise why ‘clumsy’ was a word that first came to mind while describing the book- there is a reason for the narration to be as it is, and it fits totally with the story. At the end of the book, more than one ending is indicated, and the reader is left to write their own. That, perhaps, is the hallmark of an engaging book.
The book is published by Pan Macmillan. I received a review copy, but the views are my own.
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