Category: Books

  • Caste

    Isabel Wilkerson

    An artificial construction of human value, that deems one group of humans to be superior to another, based on ancestry and immutable traits, and rigidly enforced consciously, and subconsciously. Caste is not new, but surprisingly still a phenomenon in 2021. In the US, race is the visible manifestation of caste. But as the author points out, its underlying infrastructure is caste. That’s why Nazi Germany and India both serve as examples too. And that’s also why Martin Luther King, Jr., despite the initial discomfort, agreed to his introduction in a school in Trivandrum, India, as “a fellow untouchable from the United States of America“. Caste is also different from class, which is a measure of one’s standing in society marked by education, income, occupation, and taste, manners etc that flow from the socioeconomic status. This can be acquired, which is not the case with caste.

     Isabel Wilkerson sets up the context – “heat rising all around” – with the 2016 US Presidential elections, and the history of caste, including the arbitrary term “Caucasian” (on the basis of German professor Blumenbach’s favourite skull) that now denotes the white population, and the millennia-old varna system in India. It is interesting to note that while the Americans were considered heroes in World War 2, they had a history of eugenics that the Nazis took a lot of inspiration from for creating their own policies. And it wasn’t just eugenics, they even had tourism based on lynching scenes! It is also interesting that many pro-slavery losers of the Civil War are still celebrated as national heroes. Exactly the opposite has happened in Germany, where there are memorials for those who had suffered most under the Nazis. 

    She then proceeds to the eight pillars of caste – from heritability and endogamy to its enforcement, the cruelty it spawns and the presumption of inherent superiority/inferiority. When caste becomes deeply embedded, its tentacles spread everywhere, and so do its consequences. Any upliftment could be perceived as a threat to the dominant caste. Unfortunately, it also causes stratification in those who are in the bottom rungs, to the extent that many of them willingly role-play to maintain the hierarchy and acceptable forms of behaviour. 

    The election of Obama was a change in the order of things, and while it did give a few years of hope, the backlash has been strong ever since. It not only played a big role in Trump’s win, but also led to even more rigid mindsets and actions by the dominant caste. An interesting point that the author brings up is 2042, when for the first time, the white population in the US will be a minority. What will happen then if the current narrative of caste persists? A world without caste is better for all, even for the dominant caste, as various examples in the book show. The answer is conversations, and creating bonds through common interests. But one has to wonder how that is going to happen in this charged atmosphere that only seems to foster hatred and intolerance. 

  • The Cyberiad

    Stanislaw Lem

    I discovered the book thanks to an online post that extolled Lem at the cost of my favourites like Asimov. The book was written in Polish in 1965 and translated in 1974. The introduction provides great context to the author, his work, and his relationship with his peers, especially the Americans. He was rebuffed by them, and apparently Philip K. Dick even contacted the FBI claiming Lem was a Communist agent. 

    The book is a collection of Lem’s stories most of them involving two constructors – Trurl and Klapaucius, who come up with things like “a machine that can create anything in the world, provided it starts with the latter ‘n’”. Now what happens if you tell it to create nothing? It’s definitely not by doing “nothing”. But I’ll let you read the story and find out. 

    One of my other favourites was a story within a story. In Tale of the Three Storytelling Machines – there is a character called Chlorian Theoreticus the Proph. One of his essays is The Evolution of Reason as a Two-cycle Phenomenon – a fascinating theory of how Automata and Albuminids create each other back and forth across eternity. 

    The stories, characters and expressions all actually sound quite silly (might remind you HGTG), though I enjoyed the play of words, which point to the intelligence beyond. But it’s when you scratch the surface and think about the underlying ideas and philosophy that you discover the genius of the author. They are deep and profound – sometimes a commentary on the society and politics of the time, and sometimes on the nature of the universe itself. A completely different take on science fiction from anything else I have read in the domain. Fascinating stuff. 

    P.S. A special note of appreciation for the translator, and you’ll know why after you read the verses and use of the English language. It cannot have been an easy job to reconstruct the ideas and their renditions in a new language.

  • Station Eleven

    Emily St. John Mandel

    Disclaimer: I have not really seen/read a lot of apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic content, so pardon the n00b reactions. Contains some spoilers.

    When a famous actor Arthur Leander dies on stage while performing King Lear, the world does not realise that it is the last celebrity news that it will hear. Because Arthur Leander is only a side note in the larger drama playing out – unknown to those watching the play and many outside, the Georgia Flu is on its way to wiping out 99% of the world’s population. 

    The reason I liked this book that its narrative captures the impact at three levels, at least to some degree – individual, community, and civilisation. The pandemic systematically takes out the infrastructure of civilisation, and we see it play out through the experiences of different characters – predictably, the super markets get raided first, and people try to escape the city (though no one knows where to) even as traffic pileups extend for miles. The book is self aware – “Jeevan’s understanding of disaster preparedness was based entirely on action movies, but on the other hand, he’d seen a lot of action movies.” The world might have systems, but systems are after all, manned by people. The television networks go silent, internet access goes, and then the era of electricity is over. Days become weeks become years. 

    In Year 20, Kirsten, a child actor who was in Leander’s King Lear, is a performer in the Travelling Symphony, a band of actors and musicians who roam the land entertaining the communities that have sprung up in the post-apocalyptic world. Their motto – “Survival is insufficient,” borrowed from an episode of Star Trek: Voyager. Kirsten owns a few comics from a limited-edition hand-drawn series called Station Eleven. The creator is Miranda, who in turn is linked to Jeevan, a paparazzo turned paramedic. 

    And then there’s the airport. This made me stop and reflect. Imagine, you’re on/coming back from a vacation/business trip, your flight gets rerouted, and you land at an unfamiliar airport. First, you treat it as an inconvenience, then a temporary aberration, a story that you can tell friends, and then, after a few days, you realise you are permanently grounded, there is no going back. And finally, a community begins to form. And in that community is a curator who begins to collect the vestiges of a lost era – mobile phones, gaming consoles, credit cards. The very things that make up the mundaneness of our current life. This was almost visceral, and after 2020, an absolute possibility. 

    The narrative switches back and forth, in time, and among characters, zooming in on details that bring out characters and their varied experiences before and after the pandemic. In the flashbacks, we see the span of Arthur’s life – from obscurity to fame to the realisation of a life slipping away. We also see Clark’s view of Arthur’s life, as his closest friend, how it changed over time, and how Clark finds purpose after the pandemic. Clark was my favourite character, I could relate a lot. Kirsten has vague memories of a different world, and specific memories of her own past – she is part of a bridge generation between those who knew a life before the pandemic and those who didn’t. In all of these, there is nostalgia, memory, a yearning for the past, and the grief over its loss. It affects different generations differently – “The more you remember, the more you’ve lost“, because the longing for something you have experienced already hurts more. We go from Sartre’s “Hell is other people” to Mandel’s “Hell is the absence of the people you long for“. 

    I found it a poignant read, probably because of a life stage, and the specific time we are living through. 

    Station Eleven
Emily St.John Mandel
  • Azadi

    Arundhati Roy

    As always, I must admit a bias for Arundhati Roy. For being an author who has consistently been vocal about rampant capitalistic greed, class prejudices, and more recently, the conversion of India from a democracy to a fascist state. And in doing all this, she holds an uncompromising mirror to those of us whose privilege affords us the luxury of living in bubbles whose walls are impermeable. For now. 

    The book has 9 essays that contain the above, and also touch upon the role of fiction in imagining, processing, and communicating it. Lal Salaam Aleikum, says Anjum, in The Ministry of Utmost Happiness. The book has recurring themes – Kashmir, NRC, CAA, RSS – but I think repeating them is worthwhile, so that the gravity is understood. 

    Kashmir, whose special status, or limited autonomy, granted under Article 370 of the Indian Constitution, was revoked on 5th August by the Indian government. Followed by Narendra Modi appearing on television on 8th August to announce a lockdown of 7 million people so that they could enjoy Indian democracy and progress while living under military occupation. Google Trends surges showed a repeat of plunder patterns from history – “marry a Kashmiri girl” and “buy land in Kashmir”. Women and land. But that’s only the larger population. The nation has higher ambitions. For instance, access to rivers and other natural resources. And so does the ruling party – “One Nation. One Constitution”. Enforced not just with the might of the state machinery, but the 600000 members of the RSS. 

    NRC, the seeds of which were sown in 1837 when the British made Bengali Assam’s official language. Though revoked in the 1870s, it set the stage. In the late 1890’s the British encouraged Bengali Muslims to become workers in the tea plantations, causing an influx that was first met with affection by the natives, but soon turned to discord. Borders were redrawn regularly, and 1947 and 1971 caused a further inflow of populations, and after decades of violence and antagonism, we now have the NRC, whose updated list was published on 31 August 2019. With 1.9 million missing. It didn’t really make the rulers happy because almost half of them are non-Muslims. Predictably, Justice Gogoi ordered the transfer of the chief co-ordinator of NRC, giving no reasons. 

    And then there is the Citizenship Amendment Bill, passed on 11 Dec 2019 as the CAA. Students of Aligarh Muslim University and Jamia Millia Islamia University reacted first. Shaheen Bagh followed. The larger agenda of both NRC and CAA – controlling citizenship. After all, as Hannah Arendt said, “Citizenship is the right to have rights.” And what we are seeing is the systematic disenfranchisement of Muslims and making them second class citizens. 

    All of the essays lay out how the RSS and BJP keep things on boil at all times- NRC, Pakistani Jihadis, Kashmiri terrorists, Bangladeshi ‘infiltrators”, Ram temple, and always, Muslims. Ready to be poured gasoline on, and lit. And backed by a propaganda team – from Bollywood A-listers to sportspersons to media. All components of the fascism playbook, and the regime has the checklist – strong man, ideological army, Aryan superiority, dehumanising of the “internal enemy” and mob justice (113 deaths by mob violence since 2015 – The Quint), propaganda machine, the attacks on academia and assassinations when required, the coteries of businessmen and film stars.

    And the systematic takeover of democratic institutions, as the police get communalised, judiciary abdicate their duty, and the media just want to be lapdogs. Case in point -“Desh ke gaddaron ko, Goli maaro saalon ko”, said Kapil Mishra, who is back in the streets after a very brief interlude. Meanwhile, Justice Muralidhar who was furious with the Delhi Police for not taking action against Mishra, got midnight orders to move to his new assignment in the Punjab High Court. 

    The pandemic is an opportunity to set many things right. But it doesn’t seem to be going in that direction. For instance, the early days saw vast populations being forced back to their villages and small towns just so they could have some dignity. A reminder of the days of partition – class being the driver instead of religion. 

    There is a high likelihood that reading this book and reviewing it will soon be deemed anti-national. As a college lecturer pointed out to Arundhati Roy, among the items recovered from alleged couriers for the Maoists were books she had written. “They’re laying a trail – building a case against you.” Meanwhile, with plans for Nepal and Sri Lanka, the RSS seems to be seeking its version of the German Lebensraum (living space), which the Nazis used to formulate their Generalplan Ost policy – genocide, ethnic cleansing, and colonisation of Central and Eastern Europe . The world can pay heed now, or pay the price again for letting a fascist regime pursue its will. The voices in Kashmir and against NRC and CAA is the same – Azadi. And as Kanhaiya Kumar stated, not from India, but in India.

  • Metaphors we live by

    George Lakoff, Mark Johnson

    In “How Emotions are Made“, Lisa Feldman Barrett wrote how concepts, goals, words all help the brain frame any new stimulus it receives and that by reframing concepts and looking at them more objectively, we can reshape what emotions are surfaced, and thus exercise free will. But how does one go about that? In the vast scope of “Metaphors we live by”, we get an answer to that too. 

    Metaphorical concepts are so ubiquitous in our thoughts and deeds that we don’t even realise they exist, let alone their effect on how we think about everything from business and ethics to marriage and poetry. Conceptual metaphors allow us to use the inferences in domains we can sense (space, objects etc) on other domains of subjective judgment. In a way, this is how we are able to transmit ideas and create a shared understanding. We often ascribe this to language, but it actually begins with metaphorical concepts.

    The light bulb goes off in the first few pages, when the authors use “Argument is war” as an example. It’s because war is the metaphor we have used at a concept level, that the words we used to describe it are about winning/losing it, or “your claims are indefensible” or ‘He demolished my arguments” or “I attacked his weak points” and so on. Another example to think of is “time is money” – you use spend/save/run out of/invest to describe time. 

    In addition to the structural metaphors above, there are oriental metaphors, which provide a spatial orientation, and are based on our physical and cultural experiences. For instance, happy (spirits rose), consciousness (woke up), control (top of the situation), more (numbers went up), future events (what’s up), good things (looking up), virtue (high standards) are all “up”, while their opposites are down. 

    A thing to note is that a concept can have multiple metaphors e.g. Ideas are food (half- baked), people (father of modern physics), plants (fertile imagination) and many more. Another interesting part is the grounding of concepts. For instance, how we conceptualise the non-physical in terms of the physical. Harry is in the kitchen (which is spatial), in the army (social), in love (emotional). 

    The book further talks about the structuring of our experiences – experiential gestalts, as well as coherence of metaphors (including overlaps of metaphors, how they affect form, and how they can ultimately create realities. It also gets into very interesting territories – the nature of truth, objectivism and subjectivism. It points out how both miss the part that we understand the world through our interactions with it, and proposes an Experientialist alternative. 

    Since I started reading the book, I have been watching the words I use (” I am running late”, “I don’t think we should spend more time on this”) and imagining different metaphors. Because by changing the metaphors we live by, we can change our everyday life, and our future. This is far from an easy read, but even (more than) 40 years after it was first published, it is still pathbreaking.