Reading a novel in Tamil is a completely different reading experience. For one, I am forced to read much much slower than I do in English. I read most sections twice, once to get the words right and the second time for the flow of the story. And I take breaks between chapters. Because I am tired by the time I finish the 5 or 6 pages that comprises a chapter. But this has just meant that I invest more deeply in the story. I think more about it. I mull over the characters, their interactions, their actions more. I observe language, structure, and the beauty of descriptions. It's such a contrast to my typical reading. When reading a book in English, I breeze through it. I consume as much as I can in one sitting. Usually, multiple chapters. Occasionally, an entire book. And then I spend some time chewing on it. A quick post about it. Next book. Now I want to slow my English reading as well. Read less, mull more. I kinda like that.
My head is bursting with things I want to dissect and discuss in Madhorubagan - Perumal Murugan's masterpiece. While I can rave about the vivid descriptions, the tender portrayal of love, the sharp social commentary, etc.. I have decided to focus on the one aspect of the book I found most interesting - the ending. Without any spoilers, all I can say is that it was abrupt. Incomplete. Murugan deprives us of the closure that we expect so easily from books.
Madhorubagan is a story that occurs over the period of a day. Everything that leads to the events of that day are recollections, anything that happens after it, just your speculation. And surprisingly, I don't think he could have ended it better. Based on the uproar over the abrupt ending, Murugan apparently wrote two sequels to Madhorubagan. Two alternate endings to satisfy the closure craving souls. Two books I know I'll never read. Because I am actually fine with not having him spell out the ending for me.
You can gape all you want, but yep. That's how I feel about it. In spite of being the one that has craved closure for every instance, every interaction. I used to detest being left on 'seen'. I've struggled to leave emails/messages hanging without a reply. I've expected explanations and excuses. I've provided explanations and excuses, as awkward as they might have been.
But the more I think about the futility of it all, my need for closure decreases.
I'm evolving. Maybe.
My head is bursting with things I want to dissect and discuss in Madhorubagan - Perumal Murugan's masterpiece. While I can rave about the vivid descriptions, the tender portrayal of love, the sharp social commentary, etc.. I have decided to focus on the one aspect of the book I found most interesting - the ending. Without any spoilers, all I can say is that it was abrupt. Incomplete. Murugan deprives us of the closure that we expect so easily from books.
Madhorubagan is a story that occurs over the period of a day. Everything that leads to the events of that day are recollections, anything that happens after it, just your speculation. And surprisingly, I don't think he could have ended it better. Based on the uproar over the abrupt ending, Murugan apparently wrote two sequels to Madhorubagan. Two alternate endings to satisfy the closure craving souls. Two books I know I'll never read. Because I am actually fine with not having him spell out the ending for me.
You can gape all you want, but yep. That's how I feel about it. In spite of being the one that has craved closure for every instance, every interaction. I used to detest being left on 'seen'. I've struggled to leave emails/messages hanging without a reply. I've expected explanations and excuses. I've provided explanations and excuses, as awkward as they might have been.
But the more I think about the futility of it all, my need for closure decreases.
I'm evolving. Maybe.