|
|
|
November 7, 2004
REVIEWS: Concoction of experiences
The round shouldered young man in a tight polycotton shirt standing outside a New Delhi office tower is an apt and poignant description of a young, male job seeker anywhere in the subcontinent. In this case it is Arjun Mehta, a talented computer graduate, who his father sees as a muddled young man but whom destiny beckons to Silicon Valley in America. A faceless recruiting agency enlists him and amidst the jubilation of his family and his own happy expectations, the young man leaves for California. But in the US, a frustrating wait for a job lies ahead for him and others similarly recruited.
Finally the waiting period ends and Mehta finds a job. The strain of “keeping up appearances” back home has been great for him. It’s a nice contrast — the frustration, loneliness, and despondency of his actual situation in the United States, and the exhilaration of his proud family at home who believe that like everyone else their son and brother is busy amassing a fortune in America. Meanwhile Arjun does not have the heart to enlighten them about the true situation. This is an experience that only members of the Diaspora or their children — still in touch with both the worlds — could bring to life, as does Kunzru, the son of a British mother and an Indian father.
The much awaited job is an undistinguished sort of position — an assistant on an anti virus team in a global computer security specialist firm. But Mehta is happy. He is experiencing life as he had imagined it in America, and he likes his work. But the ruthless corporate culture of the American work environment soon overtakes him. To deal with it, his innocent ploy is to let loose a virus that he can then wipe out, proving his indispensability. But the virus, in the image of the bewitching Leela Zahir, threatens to destroy all the computer data in the world.
The second most prominent character in the novel is Guy Swift, who heads a fancy branding agency, and for whom, as for many others, Leela Zahir’s dancing form on his computer screen is the spectre of doom.
The novel follows the lives of Mehta, Leela and Guy with a sure, but light touch. As befits a writer in the 21st century, Kunzru offers a concoction of experiences from far and wide, taken coolly into stride. (Distance? No problem. Race? No problem) Europe, Asia, and America, Bollywood and Silicon Valley, all known, understood, and digested, melting into a background for people and action. But whether it is Guy Swift’s doomed golf course presentation in Dubai, or Mehta’s sacking from Virugenics, or Faiza Zahir’s antics as the mother of the star, the action is all convincing, and well done, as are the people.
Kunzru’s touch may be light, and his story may seem thin, but shallow he is not, as his future novels may establish. Describing the EU quarter of Brussels, where diplomats and representatives of governmental and non governmental organizations mingle, he says that they are all “seeking to perfect the most modern of European arts: the exercise of control without the display of power”. The last bit about control and power can be used for Kunzru’s own writing. The control is there, but neither it nor the author is visible. And yes, I must not forget to mention what is one of the major strains in his novel: the humour — though again, under tight control. Faiza’s brush with Gaby, the golf course presentation, and most of all the proclamation of a gentle, Bollywood buff like Mehta, as terrorist, are all very funny, but the author gives no cues to start the laughter.
My only complaint about the work is, why so trendy? Trendiness is so close to ‘boring’ and ‘dated’ that it is a miracle that he has avoided both epithets.
Transmission
By Hari Kunzru
Hamish Hamilton. Available with Liberty Books (Pvt) Ltd, 3 Rafiq Plaza, M.R. Kayani Road, Saddar, Karachi. Tel: 021-5683026
Email: libooks@cyber.net.pk Website: www.libertybooks.com
ISBN 0-241-14268-7
281pp. Rs755
|
|
|
|
