A Crumbling Mansion, A Dysfunctional Family: ‘The Magnificent Ruins’ — Review

 A crumbling mansion which houses a family which is both victim and perpetrator of intergenerational trauma. First published in Youth Ki Awaaz

Summary

After spending her childhood in her divorced mother’s ancestral home, at 16, Lila De moved to the United States to live with her father and stepmother. On her 29th birthday, at a point where her career in a New York based publishing house is poised to take off, she comes to hear of her grandfather’s death and that he has bequeathed the family home to her. Lila takes eight weeks leave to return to the city she grew up in, hoping that would be sufficient time to sort out any issues arising due to the inheritance.

A crumbling mansion, a dysfunctional family

The five story crumbling mansion in Calcutta is home to her extended family. Her newly widowed grandmother, two uncles and their wives, one cousin and her mother all live together in the house- notionally on different floors, but in reality with open doors which anyone can walk through at any time. Her relatives all treat her as a young and immature child- they love her, but do not take her seriously. They try desperately to smother her in their love, yet, are secretly plotting to disinherit her. They vie with each other for her attention, yet each of them keeps secrets from her. Each of them in different ways conveys to her that even though they are legally challenging her right to inherit the property, it is not personal and that they still love her as much as they always did!

At the advice of her lawyer and because she herself wants to, Lila attempts to restore the neglected mansion to its former glory. However, while it is easy to change the wiring and install an elevator, it is much harder to confront her past and to untangle the complex relationships with her relatives. Lila’s mother had been emotionally and physically abusive and as a child she had sought comfort from her grandmother. She now finds that the two women still use her to score points against each other. As she digs deeper, she realises that everything is not as it seems- that the people who abused Lila had themselves been victims of abuse.

The author is at her best when she describes the generational trauma that defines almost every relationship within the family. Many of the characters display multiple behaviours, and you are alternately angry with them for their behaviour and sympathetic towards them because of what they faced. While some of the younger members try to escape the toxicity of the family, you see them falling into the same patterns that plagued older members of the family.

The side plots

While the main strand of the novel Lila trying to make sense of the entanglements within the family residing in the crumbling mansion, her complicated romantic life is also a major plot element. She was in a casual relationship with a one of her writers, but once back in Calcutta she runs into her first boyfriend who though married shows that he is still available. When her writer friend makes a “grand gesture” and follows her to Calcutta, she is torn between the two men. Though not central to the book, this strand sums up much of what makes up modern dating.

The book is set in Calcutta 2015, and the city comes alive through Lila’s gaze. The crumbling mansions, the new apartment blocks, the markets and the nosy neighbours. The book is set against an upcoming election where the ruling Left front is challenged by the rising Right wing, which threatens to disrupt the social order. There are also growing protests against Section 377, and rising fear among the Muslims. While there is an attempt to talk about classism, especially with how the old families treat the household help, not enough was done here, and the book itself might have benefited if it had been left out completely.

I particularly enjoyed how food is recurring motif throughout the book. Whether it is Lila’s American step mother who shows her affection through food, to how Lila’s mother and grandmother compete with each other to server her favourite dishes, food remains the love language through which most people seem to express themselves. Whether it is haggling for fish at the market or guarding recipes, the book evokes memories in anyone who cares about food.

Conclusion

It is tempting to compare the book to the masterpiece of intergenerational trauma- Arundhati Roy’s God of Small Things. While both books deal with inherited trauma and of how young people attempt to cope with it, The Magnificent Ruins is told through the perspective of someone who has now escaped the family home, and who therefore is able to confront her family history through the distance of time and space.

Overall, this is a powerful debut from the author and one certainly looks forward to reading her next.

AN: I thank Hachette India for sending me a review copy of the book. The views are my own.

Do We Need So Many Statues?

 

When the world’s largest statue of Dr. BR Ambedkar was still under construction, I would be awed by the scale. Yet, like most other well-meaning savarnas, I would wonder if the money being spent on the statue could not have been better spent in setting up the infrastructure to deliver better education, meaningful livelihood opportunities and quality healthcare to the people who need it the most. Wouldn’t that create a more equitable world, I thought.

When I started reading Dalit authors, I came to realise that the statues of Dr. Ambedkar instil a sense of pride and confidence in people. They symbolise the aspiration to break free from the clutches of casteism, and to take their rightful place in the world.

A few weeks back, a public intellectual asked a rather provocative question- “There are more Ambedkar statues in India than Gandhi’s. Is that because he gave us a country which Gandhi could never have conceptualised.” This question sidesteps the fact that Dr. Ambedkar is directly linked to Dalit and Bahujan pride, and it is by erecting statues that the community asserts itself and it is also the easiest way for politicians to appease the community.

Ironically, if the nation had succeeded in removing the bane of caste, and there was genuine social, economic and political equity, then we might have fewer statues of Ambedkar. Till such a day arrives, we need to educate, agitate and organise. It will not be easy, because that would mean acknowledging our privileges and unlearning things we took for granted. But we must.