My Thoughts on Novels in Translation from Each of India’s 28 States - Tamil Nadu - Pyre

The first in my series — Pyre by Perumal Murugan.

PYRE by Perumal Murugan

STATE: Tamil Nadu

Original Language: Tamil. 

First published in 2013 in Tamil.

Publisher in English — Grove Atlantic

‘Pyre’ is a masterful work by a masterful author. It begins — boom —  in a “matrix of circumstance.” On a scorching afternoon in rural Tamil Nadu, a young couple, obviously in love, are trepidatiously making their way to the groom’s village. 

The “matrix of circumstance” reveals itself (we’d call this ‘exposition’) as we realize this young couple is uncertain of the reception they’re likely to receive. Both harbor fears of village disapproval. The perspective switches between them, passing like a baton; that would be something that perhaps an English-language editor might object to but, as we all know, readers are adaptive and I adjusted quickly enough. 

The “matrix of circumstance” at the beginning of the book is: 

a) they have eloped. 

b) this is an inter-caste marriage

c) the bride is unfamiliar with village life.

If you’re reading this, you likely know that Tatum and I are in an intercultural marriage and I remember that early in our dating life, I googled something like “challenges in intercultural relationships” and made the mistake of clicking on a quora link. I read some woman’s account of how her aunt and uncle made a difficult intercultural relationship work through communication and by supporting each other. Lovely, right? Good marital advice. 

And what, you may ask, were these massively disparate cultures? 

Turns out, both aunt and uncle were from Himachal Pradesh, but different districts, and one had grown up in a family with an apple orchard and the other in a family with an orange orchard. Really? Same country; same religion (Hindus are 95% of the population of Himachal Pradesh); same business. And yet, they experienced this as an ‘inter-cultural marriage.’ All this to say, that sometimes, it’s in the narrowest of ranges, that small differences become vastly amplified. 

This is something we see in Pyre in terms of language — Kumaresan’s (the groom) village speaks a slightly different dialect of Tamil to Saroja’s town; they have different ways of tying the sari; and, of course, there are the differences of town and village life. 

But none of the differences is sufficient to explain the intensity of the rancor, the unrelentingness of the hatred that their union is met with. 

POTENTIAL SPOILERS (not really — I don’t give you any of the juicy stuff).

Here I share 4 ‘values’ that adhered to the reading experience.

1. Two Worlds — often, in art, the universe of expected outcomes is known by all characters in the story; by that, I mean that usually characters know what other characters are capable of. In this story, Kumaresan, despite being born and raised in his village, perhaps because of love, perhaps because his time ‘in town’ has softened him, forgets the power of rancor in his home village. He assumes that his elopement will simply blow over. He completely underestimates the blowback from his family and the village; this cognitive dissonance is well situated within the characters’ points-of-view and adds a further dimension of plausibility to the matrix of circumstance.

2. Isolation and Togetherness - The bride, Saroja, is often by herself on a blighted rock where Kumaresan’s homestead is. We feel her utter loneliness, her sense of fear that perhaps she’s made the wrong choice. Murugan’s strength, it seemed to me, is swiftly and effectively inhabiting his character’s POV with sensory language and feeling and then, whenever Kumaresan returned to the homestead, immediately, we felt the support and - everything’s-going-to-be-alright- feeling that can accompany love.

3. Falling in Love — The novel moves in time between the present of Saroja and Kumaresan’s first ten days as a married couple in his native village and their budding romance back in the town. And, we are afforded the pleasure of simply watching two young people fall in love; it’s done deftly, tenderly, and with a sense of innocence and seriousness. It’ll stay with you.

4. Rancor — I’ll not say much here, but, as with a natural phenomenon like fire, one is waiting always for a change in the wind; something to abate the growing rancor, some relief, like a glass of water in a drought. But Murugan knows too much about the strength of hatred to soften it and so that relieving glass of water remains always just out of touch.

Stars: 5/5. 

Conclusion: This book is a fast-paced read that doesn’t tease the reader but rather satisfies them within three hours; in that time, Murugan shows you an entirely new world, though not necessarily a pretty one. And you come out of it, enriched for sure, but also chastened by an awareness of the gauntlets that so many young lovers must run. 

Hope you enjoyed; please share with those may also enjoy.