milk and honey (2015)

Milk and honey was published by Andrews McMeal Publishing in 2015 and consists of 206 pages of poetry, divided into four chapters: the hurting, the loving , the breaking, the healing, with an additional two pages, one about the book and one about Rupi Kaur. The format of the book is black and white, including several black pages with white print. Kaur includes several of her own illustrations alongside her poetry to complement her words.

I finally decided to jump on the bandwagon, albeit far too late. The reason for this review and even reading milk and honey in the first place was my sister's references to the book, her underwhelmed opinion and her seeking my thoughts on the matter. Naturally I wasn't quite in a position to give a fair opinion on Kaur's work without having read it. So now here we are. No doubt I had heard a lot about this book and consequently I went in expecting a certain kind of narrative. I also know that Rupi Kaur's work seemed to bring joy to many women of colour. I'll describe what she writes about, how she writes, the nature of love in her work and some references to her work as a woman of colour.

Kaur uses highly emotional language in her poetry to evoke strong feelings in her readers; she appears to have wholly adopted an aesthetic approach to her writing in order to create an experience of strong sentiments and physical sensations. Kaur covers issues like rape and sexual violence and the silencing of the female voice, including abusive relationships and even angry couples. These images can be taken literally or interpreted metaphorically as various difficulties being faced in life. 

Kaur calls on "self-love", a popular term referring to caring for oneself, to be the foundation of human strength and this comes before loving others or seeking the love of others. There is a consistent desire to be loved, wanted and to belong in these poems and Kaur attempts to balance these desires out with advice on beginning with the self. However, she nonetheless values the search for love and a partner, recognising it as an added strength. 

I was quite surprised at the highly sexualised imagery Kaur used, mainly because I wasn't expecting it. The poetry felt so much about human desires, its wants and needs and they are significantly on carnal and "animal" levels. The strong sexual themes and language, for me, seem like a contemporary "necessity" for success in the arts. I remember once during my Bachelors degree having a class discussion on how it is literary critics who decide whether sexual representations in literature are pornographic or tasteful and artistic. I personally found it a little vulgar and a strategy to pander to a wider audience, considering that mainstream modern Western society is hyper-sexualised and we live in an increasingly promiscuous culture. These themes subsided towards the end of the book. 

Kaur included one poem on mainstream European standards of beauty and highlighting the richness and beauty in Indian and other coloured skin tones. There is one poem on women of colour and then one poem on being a Kaur and Sikhi. She also writes a three-lined poem on seva, selfless service, which is an element of the Sikh religion. While I was glad to read these short poems, I felt they were too little and too discreet. I could not but help compare it to Nayyirah Waheed's approach, which is far more potent as she abruptly condemns her colonisers and their languages. Kaur is far more gentle and doesn't point fingers at the colonisers or the West, which may well have allowed her to enjoy a more white, middle-class audience. 

Towards the end, the book felt like a self-help handbook for women coming out of relationships or difficult periods in their lives, which is useful to those who want to seek solace in it. However, I was somewhat disappointed with this collection of poems because I had hoped for a richer representation of Punjabi and/ or Sikh culture. Not only did I not get these, but I felt the Divine was not referred to at all and these poems were only about humans at their lowest levels, and not the transcendent. Greatness was in the "universe", terms that probably sound lovely to atheist ears. Overall Kaur's writing is definitely provocative and the themes may well resonate well with a mainstream audience but I didn't quite find them to suit my taste nor did I find them particularly uplifting (in a spiritual sense); it was a tad mundane. 

Northanger Abbey (1817)

While the original Northanger Abbey was published in 1817 after the death of Jane Austen, my copy is a Collins Classics edition published in 2010. The novel itself is 230 pages and there are an additional 27 pages of "Words and Phrases from Classic Literature" to help with any unknown terms. I'll give a little insight into my thoughts on the style and some other points of interest raised by Austen. I'll also compare this novel more to Mansfield Park, since I read it not so long ago.

Reading Northanger Abbey straight after Mansfield Park allowed me to make more direct and precise comparisons between the two. While I find the plot of Mansfield Park to be somewhat more complex and with more closely interwoven stories, I can appreciate Austen's not-so-affluent heroines and their relatively more humble family backgrounds in both of these works. That's not to say Austen isn't about high class society, but she plays on the interactions between the various levels in the hierarchy of the gentry.

I found Austen's style in Northanger Abbey to be rather distinct in its more overt sarcasm and wit. I believe the tongue in cheek humour in the descriptions is somewhat more discreet and subtle in some of her other works. To incorporate some Gothic thriller elements into her writing illustrates Austen's engagement with other literature of her time and her own attempts at experimentation with other genres. This is also evident in her significant emphasis on a theatrical play in Mansfield Park, another example of crossing between various art forms. She also overtly discusses the role and nature of novels of the period, especially those written by Anne Radcliffe. Austen opens up this discussion on female writers and attempts to determine where their value in society is in relation to other traditional texts, such as histories, written largely by rich men.

Austen's way of developing characters seemed different from her previous approach, such as in Mansfield Park, where she describes the character for you. I was quite fascinated this time as Austen used her protagonist, Catherine's naiveté to give every other character she interacted with a fair chance to expose themselves through their own words and actions. I found this characterisation intelligent and a refreshing change from a dictated judgement from the narrator. In terms of character, I found the hero in this novel, Henry Tilney, to be fairly likeable excepting his tendency to make general passing judgements on what is appropriate, acceptable and/ or good in the female sex. But it probably represents a fair part of ideal gender roles of the time. Austen chooses to (sarcastically) elaborate on this tendency through her narrator, who enlightens us on the advantages of ladies, especially pretty ones, to remain ignorant in order to flatter the vanity and ego of their conversational partner. Charming tips!

Another similarity between the two novels is that of the rather swift conclusions. I felt that Northanger Abbey's conclusion could have been lengthened and developed a little more as it felt unsatisfactory, considering the sudden plot twist that had to be explained and then resolved. There was little news on James, Catherine's brother, and his future. I personally felt as if Austen needed to quickly create and write her happy ending without wanting to write reams more and thus wrapped up the story in a rushed fashion. I think the emotional challenges in Mansfield Park made the quick conclusion an acceptable relief, yet insufficient in Northanger Abbey since there was less "drama" so to speak.

Overall, it was a less gripping read than Mansfield Park, yet more light and humorous. It was also a much shorter novel, comparatively, which explains the less dense plot, yet Austen still explores a wide range of issues from gender roles, social hierarchy, education, honesty and sincerity as well as the role of literature in relation to real life. She merges the concepts of fiction and reality and this makes for some thought-provoking discussion.

Mansfield Park (1814)

I'm currently catching up on some of the books on my personal reading list now that I have a little break between semesters. I thought I'd begin with Mansfield Park since it's been a while since I've read anything by Jane Austen. This edition was published in 1949 by the Novel Library and is 479 pages long on remarkably thin paper. 

I was surprised to find myself much more captivated by this novel than previous ones I've read (quite long ago), such as Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice. I'm reconsidering whether I will read them again as a more mature reader or if I'll just put it to Mansfield Park being written after the two above mentioned and thus attribute it to Austen's own matured style.

Austen's novel makes a change from more contemporary fiction in so many ways: the steady chronological style, the value given to religious and moral conduct and the lack of vulgarity. Of course Austen had her own context to consider and the novels reflect this but she clearly has a moral stance and preference in the novel where religion seems like it ought to be valued more sincerely than the upper class can admit. The religious and moral values she advocates include sincerity and humility, which are lacking in high society in favour of material wealth. Despite this critique of the upper classes, Austen demonstrates her partiality to refined upper class etiquette as being indispensable in a truly noble character. This naturally puts the lower classes at a great disadvantage.

A refreshing element in the novel was the insight into the Price family, a family who is considerably less wealthy and "refined" than the principal Bertram family. While it clearly shows the failings of character that can easily pervade with lack of financial means and poor management, it also provides some hope and an incentive for wealthier members of society or a family to take the initiative to help "raise" others in order to increase goodness, or the potential of goodness, in society.

On a less positive note, I felt that the main protagonist in the novel, Fanny, was a little too sensitive, fragile and timid for my liking and it felt like a character that was, although morally correct, difficult to identify with. This, I can argue, also allows Austen to create a perfect, angelic character, which goes against contemporary subjectivity of character, judgement and a general trend for rebellion.

Overall, it was a rather pleasant, almost indulgent, read and I look forward to reading Northanger Abbey in order to increase my exposure to Austen's writing.

The Good Muslim (2011)

This is only a short entry on my thoughts on Tahmima Anam's novel, which is the second of a trilogy. The Good Muslim was published by John Murray in 2011 and follows the novel A Golden Age, which was published in 2007. The third part of the trilogy, Bones of Grace, was published in 2016. As a disclaimer I would like to clarify that I haven't read the first in the series. The kindle edition that I read is a little under 300 pages, though 305 pages including acknowledgements and a preview into the third book. The novel is set in Bangladesh soon after the war of independence and some time later, as the novel switches between years, slowly developing the narrative and context through visits to the 1970s and 1984.  It is divided into a prologue, three books, whose titles make reference to Quranic verses and an epilogue ; the first book is entitled "All that is in the Heavens and on Earth", the second, "Every soul shall taste death" and the third, "God wrongs no one, Not even by the weight of an atom".

I read Tahmima Anam's novel, The Good Muslim, as part of my self-study unit to explore whether writers from the Indian subcontinent have largely adopted the worldview of their colonisers, that of modernity and secularism. This is also the reason why I didn't read the prequel, as I had to focus on my core reading list before reading around (prequel and sequel). The novel itself is an easy and quick read and yet the cultural and historical significance is very much apparent; it plays an important role in reminding, or even teaching, people about the War and conflicts in Bangladesh, events that I presume are little known outside those directly concerned.

Anam's central protagonist is a young female doctor named Maya. Most of the chapters are given from her perspective through a third person narrator. There was one chapter in her brother, Sohail's perspective, a first person narrative chapter from the eyes of her young nephew Zaid and a part of a chapter recounting Joy's war experiences. This is significant because Maya's voice is the dominant one, and it is a voice of criticism and, more specifically, disdain towards religion, which in this case is Islam.

Her values are more closely aligned to those of secularism, as science and modernity are valued higher than religious principles. She is concerned over her brother's interest and "conversion", having discovered Islam as a source of solace after the war. I felt that Maya's negativity towards religion was not particularly nuanced, as many of the practices adopted by her recently "converted" brother bothered her, despite them being fairly common or understood in a practicing Muslim community. It seems as if those whose religion is imperceptible are the ones that Maya prefers. Maya herself appears to not consider herself a believer and only reluctantly acknowledges her taught prayers. What I found particularly unsettling was that Maya made certain remarks such as "at least he hasn't grown a beard" or referring to the Quran as "the Book", implying it was the source of the problem and her brother's increased interest was a cause for concern. The reason this is problematic is because it perpetuates negative stereotypes that Muslim/ Asian men face when they choose to grow a beard, for example, or take their faith more seriously by learning more about the Quran. The UK, among many other countries, has been known to actively discriminate against people on these bases and it would be unfair to allow that connection to be validated when, for the vast majority, it is not a sign of fundamentalism. For Maya, the problem is religion itself, not solely the injustices practised in the name of religion or misinterpreted for selfish ends.

On the other hand, I found that Sohail's behaviour was not ideal, nor necessarily a perfect reflection of a pious Muslim due to two core issues, his apparent neglect towards his son and failing to be present during his mother's illness when she was seeking him. Those are not values or types of behaviour that are encouraged in Islam, rather to contrary they are looked down upon. And yet I still found myself more sympathetic to Sohail than Maya, because she seemed to be full of absolute revolt and he appeared to be much more docile and searching a way of peace, mercy and clarity after the shock of the war. Maya's only seemingly redeeming factor was when she attempted to save her nephew from injustice. The Tablighi Jamaat, the group that Sohail joined, definitely has some peculiarities but I believe it is not as catastrophic or threatening as made out to be.

An important theme in the novel was also that of children's education and upbringing. It's an increasingly important discussion since oftentimes when children are granted an education, it is a (compulsory) secular one, and one that usually inhibits creativity, an issue that is increasingly being faced in the Western world. Maya is wary of the madrasa education chosen by her brother, which again creates an opposition of two differing worlds.

Overall, I felt that while Anam was able to create some moving, sentimental scenes, the overall tones are strongly, if not too, anti-religion, and not necessarily anti-injustice that may take place under the guise of religion or in any other given context. For Maya, at least, Bangladesh is a country full of a rich culture but ought to otherwise be secular. However, I appreciate the role of Rehana, the mother, who points out that Maya is not simply the innocent, enlightened party in regards to their family dynamics, as she played a significant role in provoking her brother into a more drastic lifestyle change.

Truth in Tradition

I'll be diverting away from my book review posts today to write about something that's been on my mind for a few weeks. It is quite personal and I wondered whether there was any point in putting it on the big, scary place called the Internet at all. However I thought that it's something that doesn't only affect me, though I may be one of the few people aware of it and bothered by it. 

The sentimental side of this post is that I came to the realisation that I was and have been properly naive throughout my studies and especially higher education (sixth form and university). The reason being is that I've always understood that when writers or artists were trying to decipher the meaning of life or answer questions on the nature of the world, the miracles of nature or even death, truth, justice and goodness, I've always felt that they have been seeking God and, more specifically, Islam in that it would answer and resolve their conflicts and dilemmas on the nature of the soul or what makes humans distinct from animals and whether other beings besides the ones we see exist and more. Of course I have a bias but for many other believers I can presume they too would feel that people are searching for God and whatever religion they follow (be it Christianity, Hinduism or Judaism). These religions share a core that answers some of the most complex (or even regular) mysteries that modern thinkers struggle with. And so I've listened to lectures on so many art theories and art movements where they attempt to explain life and I always find myself thinking "ooh, they're so close- there's some truth in this but they've missed the mark" or "it's incomplete".

And yet with my latest essay submission (at Masters level) I was granted quite the reality check. My tutor flat out told me that since we're post-enlightenment (pfft), we no longer "need" God and the Transcendent. And so now I'm faced with this strong, secular worldview that only wants to discuss God and religion in order to criticise and undermine them. Consequently, I've come to the realisation that while all these artists (like all humans) need and seek God, their theories are intentionally constructed in a fashion to exclude Him. They're rejecting God and are trying to fathom the world without Him. By doing so they're not only fostering their own egos but also spreading false, delusional ideas to thousands if not millions of people and causing discord in people's minds. I know secular folk like to think they're all open-minded and all but they're imposing this on everyone and not allowing a parallel narrative to exist, like I thought democracies loved and glorified. Without trying to sound like I'm blaming one person for this, as it is a process that has taken centuries to bring to this state, Descartes is a name that keeps coming up and so what he said, did and represented has and continues to create confusion and doubt in the minds of so many people across the world.

My present concern is that Muslims are being slowly influenced by these ideas as they are everywhere, covert and overt, and are identifying a little too much with the mainstream, modern mentality. Nouman Ali Khan even mentioned in one of his lectures that a problem he faces increasingly is that some Muslims are trying to use scientific rationalism (or scientific empiricism) as an approach to understanding the religion and it is not only insufficient but can lead to coming to some extremely distorted and incorrect conclusions (just like the contemporary "thinkers"). I'm at a point now where I'm not only wary of popular fiction and modern/ contemporary/ mainstream literature but now even of the so-called classics that I used to enjoy and find fascinating because I found them more beautifully crafted and written. That's not to say that nothing written post 14th or 16th century isn't worth reading, but I think I'll have to be increasingly critical and/or selective.

I guess I wanted to voice my concern about an anti-tradition and anti-religion narrative that we're well aware of in terms of its most vulgar and apparent levels in some media outlets and political affairs, but that it also exists in the institutions that are praised for their intellectual contribution (though they reject the intellect for pure reason). Let's hope that there's love, peace and tolerance in our hearts and communities that can overcome this hurdle.

The Algebra of Infinite Justice (2002)

The book The Algebra of Infinite Justice is a collection of eight essays written by Arundhati Roy between the years of 1998 and 2002. My edition was published by Penguin Books in 2002 with a Foreword by John Berger and is approximately 300 pages long. It makes a change to have a little more non-fiction on my university reading list and I'm definitely glad this was mandatory reading. I decided to blog about it mainly because it is such a powerful book. So without much further ado and to keep this post brief I'll share some of my thoughts and feelings about the book but will not delve into too much detail, as I think it would be much better for anyone interested to read these with Roy as their first "exposure" because she articulates her points best and I find it useless paraphrasing them. 

Just to be clear as to what you'll be getting when you get hold of this book I'll list the names of the eight essays. In order of "appearance" they are: 'The End of Imagination', 'The Greater Common Good', 'Power Politics', 'The Ladies Have Feelings, So...', 'The Algebra of Infinite Justice', 'War is Peace', 'Democracy' and 'War Talk'.

As you can probably tell, I'm a fan of the book and would suggest everyone read it. The reason behind this is simply because the issues Roy discusses are so important and relevant to our modern society because it brings into question the nature of the world we're living in. Despite these essays being rather "old" the problems raised in the essays haven't necessarily been resolved, if anything they have been aggravated and I think it would be a crime not to be aware of what major crimes are being committed in the name of globalisation and "progress".

What I love about these essays is Roy's unflinching approach and her fact-filled passion. Not only is she well informed, she is witty and critical in her stance. She does not hold back from exposing enormous injustices taking place in her homeland. Roy critiques the decision to adopt nuclear arms, the business of building dams and notions of terrorism and democracy. She even goes on to explore what it means to be a writer and/ or an activist. Echoes of colonial burdens are ever present in her work, as India is plagued by its desire to compete with or please the "first world". She denounces the scale of the havoc as well as the fact that only the poor have to bear the brunt of it all. She provides us with eye-watering and heart-melting facts and statistics, and I personally found it heart wrenching to realise to what extent we, and governments, are disconnected from nature, the earth and a traditional way of life. Our inability to authentically value nature beyond a resource to be monetised is in great part one of the major causes of environmental destruction in our current climate. We need to open our eyes and look at the world beyond the lens of money and profit.

These essays are so valuable to humanity because they are a brave call in the face of superpowers. They are voicing the concerns of the voiceless or even trying to protect those who are uninformed and ignorant to how they're being taken advantage of and disregarded. The works are largely about India but they concern every human being because India is part of the world we live in and the issues in India are replicated in many ways across the world. If I were to say anything to India or any other developing country it would be to stop humiliating yourself before the West and destroying yourself from the inside. Value your people, including the poorest amongst them, and value a simpler, more traditional way of life and you will find harmony and success.

Born A Crime: Stories From A South African Childhood (2016)

Born A Crime: Stories From A South African Childhood is an autobiography written by the comedian Trevor Noah. It was published by John Murray in 2016 and I downloaded it for a mere 99p on my Kindle. I'm usually not one to be interested in the autobiographies or biographies of "celebrities" but having laughed at a few of Noah's sketches in the past (particularly when he started out) and the bargain Amazon tempted me with, I thought I'd give it a chance. And I'm glad I did. The book is 304 pages long and is divided into three parts and a total of 18 chapters, many of which are preluded by passages that provide context to the following events.

When I messaged my sister telling her a little about the book and how I was finding it, she commented on how it's funny how people can write autobiographies before the age of 40 now. She has a point, and yet I don't think Noah was misplaced in taking out the time to write this piece because it's about more than Trevor Noah the personality. I will explain what I mean. Of course Trevor Noah describes his experiences growing up in South Africa but he does this with plenty of insight into South Africa's history, tribal reputations, linguistic histories, as well as his family environment and his mother's dedication in raising him. This means that we learn about the history of a nation and the richness in just a part of its society and are then given a human side of how living through these complex social structures affects people and smaller communities. As well as a historical and social narrative, Noah's other major influence was his mother and this relationship is one of the main reasons I value this book.

Noah recognises that the world in South Africa is quite particular in its culmination of influences and its apartheid regime in relation to many Western countries' experience of the world. Thus, he makes a sincere effort to provide appropriate analogies along the way, which also function as reminders that the West isn't "clean" of certain sins but rather have their own forms of injustice that may well have been highlighted in the apartheid as being "more severe". He isn't afraid to bring up and discuss real, pertinent issues concerning white (light) privilege, male privilege and patriarchy, domestic violence and injustice towards women as well as reasons for crime and criminality and the breeding of hate and racism in a society. These are not problems that are South African problems alone nor are they "the Black man's problems" but rather issues that concern everybody individually as well as collectively.

Having lived in both Britain (born and raised) and Germany (at present), I would like to provide a minor correction to Noah's comparison to the teaching of the apartheid to South African children post-apartheid to the education Germans provide about the Nazis and Britons about the Empire. He rightly remarks that German students are made aware of the events of the Holocaust and share a public shame at this part of their history, but I felt the description of the British teaching of colonialism is slightly misplaced. I don't recall ever being formally taught about colonialism in school and even any reference to the slave trade was cursory and primarily focused on America. Britain hardly feels regret or shame about the Empire and consistently hides or avoids mentioning the huge injustices it committed and the attitude is rather that of "ah yes, the Empire was a big thing we had, and now don't- but now we have the Commonwealth".

In terms of writing style, the book is captivating and fluid. It's a pleasure to read and includes a fair share of humour with its tales of rather amusing and ridiculous events. However the emotions aren't always high and frivolous but varied and sometimes rather upsetting and serious. Noah manages to balance the emotions for it never to be too dark or pitiful nor simply comic. His narrative is personal and intelligent.

Now, I have to say that I love Mrs. Noah, Trevor Noah's mother. She, for me, is the real star and hero of the book. Coming back to my sister's remarks about someone under 40 writing an autobiography, I felt that it was an excuse rather to write about his mother. For me Trevor Noah, the child, was probably too boisterous but generally a decent lad however what I really savoured was Mrs. Noah and her rich personality. She is such a strong, brave woman and repeatedly shows her dedication to motherhood and her principles and values. Her strength of character and physical capacity to chase a little boy like Trevor left me in awe and hope. I'm not going to say I condone all methods practiced but there is much to learn in this book about raising a child and developing a meaningful relationship with your child. Mrs Noah is about instilling values and dedicated so much to simply opening the eyes of her child. She reminds us of motherhood and its sacrifices, its pains and joys, and how to foster a positive, healthy outlook to life even in the face of adversity. Her faith is her core and her faith is what elevates her. I can't say I wouldn't be happy to meet her myself!

To conclude I wanted to mention something concerning the sincerity of the book. I may be naive and blind to ulterior motives but while I recognise that Noah suffered a difficult childhood in so many ways, I didn't feel that this book was written in a bid to seek sympathy or to victimise the comedian. Nor was it, for me, a rags to riches story of hope and dreams. To a large degree I have to say that I'm glad of Noah's material success as far as it allowed me to learn firstly about his mother, secondly about the history and experiences of a segment of South African society and thirdly that he is in a position to discuss and denounce ongoing injustice in the world today. I'm rather tempted to write an essay for my seminar on the book, but we'll see what happens. Finally, I find that Noah's personal experiences are so varied, having engaged with such a variety of people from so many different backgrounds and social classes and this is naturally a great asset to him in his work.