Saturday, October 20, 2012

Cross-dressing and murder in Bangalore: on Anita Nair's Cut Like Wound

[Did this review for The Sunday Guardian]

Thrillers or police procedurals often begin with a mood-establishing prologue that describes a crime being committed, before moving on to the investigation; typically in such passages one gets some generic information about the criminal, a shadowy figure about whom nothing too important can yet be disclosed. But the opening pages of Anita Nair’s Cut Like Wound – set in Bangalore over a little more than a month – are intriguing for the amount of detail they provide, for their almost casual build-up to an unpremeditated murder, and for the subtle creation of empathy for the murderer, who is presented as disoriented and emotionally vulnerable.


Right at the beginning we learn that he is a man dressing up as a woman, but by the time the transformation is complete (and the identifying pronoun has become “she”) we also know that this isn’t a whim or a perversion – it is a deep internal impulse, and “Bhuvana” has a real need to be accepted and desired in her new form. And yet, the murder and its cover-up have a savagery that one might associate with male aggression. This dichotomy nicely sets up a story about a killer – and perhaps a city – with multiple personalities.

We continue to encounter Bhuvana at regular intervals through the narrative (in one passage this woman in a man’s body is disgusted by a hardcore porn film that “pandered to the average fantasy of the average Indian man”), but this does not dilute the book’s suspense – we still have to find out who she is, and other subsidiary discoveries will be made along the way. Much of this is done in the company of Inspector Borei Gowda – pushing 50, stockier than he should be, afflicted by melancholia but also sharp and capable of bursts of inspiration – and an earnest but wet-behind-the-ears sub-inspector named Santosh. Their investigation centres on grisly killings with a distinct modus operandi, and on the possible involvement of a shady local corporator and his goons.

Given this premise, Cut Like Wound is required to work first at the level of a well-paced thriller, and this it successfully does. There are stray signs of the pat, hurried writing that characterises all but the very best commercial fiction, as well as a mild tendency towards over-exposition, and a few genre clichés: the cynical officer who is letting himself go to seed but who still has a special quality (referred to here as “super sakaath sense”); the subordinate-cum-foil who has much to learn about police-work and the world in general; the smug superior officers. But Nair achieves a pleasing restraint in the key passages, and nowhere does this show more than in a tense climax, which leaves a few things unsaid and doesn’t try too hard to tie up every loose strand.

However, I also found this book consistently interesting as a commentary on the lives of the sexually marginalised, on the blurring of gender expectations, and the emotional baggage carried by both men and women in a world of role-playing and self-presentation. The inhabitants of the society depicted here – one that includes posh malls as well as seedy underbellies and much in between – are, to varying degrees, struggling with gender roles and perceptions. The main characters include a short-statured man who has spent his life in the shadow of a dominating older brother and an über-macho thug tellingly named King Kong (and associated with a big SUV – described as a “villain vehicle” – that becomes a phallic thing to intimidate other people with), but hints of the larger themes can be seen in even the lives of peripheral characters such as Gowda’s old friend Michael, a widower who continuously feels the lack of his wife’s anchoring presence.

Also in this frame are a community of eunuchs living in the cracks between a supposedly ordered society, transsexuals living in more privileged environments but yearning for a different life, emotionally repressed men who find succour in the worship of an angry mother goddess, and other men who are – with various consequences – in touch with their feminine sides. We get fleeting glimpses of people – young boys wearing flashy earrings in coffee shops, for instance – who flirt with the boundaries simply because they are bored or because they can. And much of this is linked to the many complications of living in an unsettling big-city environment. “One more choice. What was it about urban life that demanded you make a choice every minute, every day?” a character wonders in a relatively mundane situation (he has been asked if he wants mineral or regular water), but the question applies in broader contexts with far-reaching repercussions.

This adds up to a pattern of lives on the edge, and our “hero” is hardly exempt from it. Gowda has his own suppressed impulses, as we see in his vivid fantasies about kicking a senior officer’s face in, and given the book’s concerns one wonders how much this has to do with the absence of a stabilising relationship in his life. He falls with some trepidation into an affair with a woman who is more sophisticated and worldly-wise in many ways – UK-returned, comfortable in spaces like piazzas and malls that rarely intersect with his world – and behind his guilt about being unfaithful to his absent wife may lie a hint of a patriarchal man who needs to be in control, to be the dominating partner in a relationship. His many glum reflections (listening to the happy young couple staying above him, he wonders if he and his wife had ever laughed together so openly; there is a clear awkwardness in his relationship with his teenage son) can be viewed as standard tropes of an aging-cop story, but they also fit well into a narrative about misfits and loners.

In his own way, he is nearly as marginalised as some of the more extreme cases he encounters, and if this book leads to a full-fledged series (as the “Introducing Inspector Gowda” on the cover implies it will) much of its pleasure should come from watching this man patrol the mean streets of his city, dealing with his own urban alienation as well as those of his quarries – and perhaps in wondering how thin that line between mild unrest and full-blown psychosis really is.

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[Also see: this post about Peter Robinson's fine Inspector Banks novels]

24 comments:

  1. Interesting. Your review makes me want to read the book.

    Small typo: you might want to change small "earnings" to "earrings."

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  2. Er...looks like I made a typo myself with the "small." Nice of you not to point that out :D

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  3. emotionally repressed men who find succour in the worship of an angry mother goddess, and other men who are – with various consequences – in touch with their feminine sides. We get fleeting glimpses of people – young boys wearing flashy earrings in coffee shops, for instance – who flirt with the boundaries simply because they are bored or because they can. And much of this is linked to the many complications of living in an unsettling big-city environment

    I had to respond to this.
    I am not sure if the author deplores "repression" or accepts it as a part of life. But I often wonder why so many authors are critical of repression of any kind in society. Urban Civilization by its very definition is about a "complicated existence". It is about repressing the so-called "natural urges" and fitting the perceptions of people.
    This "complicated existence" is not something to be bemoaned, but celebrated!

    All of us lead more or less "repressed" lives once we step out of our houses. No man is an island. This is just as true for you and me as it is for a so-called "queer" person rendered "different" by nature. Urban civilization demands that our "natural urges" are hemmed in by various forces like the family, rule of law, market among other things. In the absence of constraints, what you'll end up with is only Jungle-raj. These are not my opinions but the wisdom of the ages.

    One more choice. What was it about urban life that demanded you make a choice every minute, every day?

    It is the disdain for traditional values and conformity in lines like these that bothers me. Urban life is exciting yes, precisely because it is "tough". One has to keep running hard just to stay at the same place and not fall behind!
    Surely nobody wants a return to the "free", "unconstrained" hunter gatherer lifestyle!

    Characters who utter such sentences don't understand history well enough. The comforts of 21st century existence have not come about just like that, but as an outcome of several millenia of "hard work" and "repression" that these self-absorbed people abhor.

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  4. @Jai: This book seems much more, but have you seen De Palma's Dressed To Kill?

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  5. ArSENik: yes, of course - it used to be a favourite. I mentioned the film very briefly in my long "monsters" piece which I put up a couple of posts ago. Hugely derivative of Psycho of course, but with some classic DePalma flourishes.

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  6. Shrikanth: you've been in quite the mood, haven't you, in recent weeks, what with these long comments to so many posts (and not just the film-related ones)? As always I admire your willingness to engage with various subjects and the care with which you present your own perspective (irrespective of whether I agree with it) - though I don't always have the energy these days to provide proper responses.

    One quick point though:

    Characters who utter such sentences don't understand history well enough. The comforts of 21st century existence have not come about just like that, but as an outcome of several millenia of "hard work" and "repression" that these self-absorbed people abhor

    I see a characteristically judgemental tone here. We are all self-absorbed people, prone to living in the moment and complaining about the various inconveniences (or perceived inconveniences) that surround us in a given time and setting - yes, even those of us who understand history well enough. When a character in a book - in this case a young sub-inspector who has recently come to the city for the first time and is still trying to process everything he experiences - thinks a particular thought to himself, the first task of a sensitive reader should be to examine his individual imperatives and the context of his life, rather than to take the sweeping "historical" perspective or the long view of things.



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  7. Another fabulous piece of criticism. Just wanted to note that the astute reference to an overabundance of choice reminded me of The Paradox of Choice by Barry Schwartz, a fine argument which points up the dilemma as a manifestation of consumerism (a key aspect of the "viral capitalism" currently sweeping the world, to no good end) that seems to offer more freedom, "but we don't seem to be benefiting from it psychologically." Thus the American countercultural movement toward inventing "voluntary simplicity." Sounds like the character in Bangalore is also coming back around in that direction.

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  8. Jai: sorry if any of the long comments have been a bit of an annoying digression.

    But yes, your wide-ranging posts on a variety of subjects do provoke responses.

    Also it has got to do with what I'm reading around the same time. Eg: When you wrote that book review post concerning a slave owning family in Africa, I had just listened a great deal on the history of slavery on youtube and also watched Judge Priest - the John Ford classic set in Southern US of the 1890s the previous day. So all that naturally put me in the mood for some indulgent comments :)

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  9. When a character in a book - in this case a young sub-inspector who has recently come to the city for the first time and is still trying to process everything he experiences - thinks a particular thought to himself, the first task of a sensitive reader should be to examine his individual imperatives and the context of his life

    Fair enough. But these characters are after all creations of the writer and not flesh-and-blood people. The fact that such characters are conceived so often in contemporary writing and portrayed with such great sympathy suggests that a lot of writers think very differently from me.

    For instance, you will never see too many sympathetic portrayals of "misfits" or "losers" in say a Naipaul novel. He is always totally unsentimental in his take on life. I am sure you'd have read his opening line of Bend in the River where he declares -

    "The world is what it is. Men who are nothing, who allow themselves to be nothnig have no place in it".

    It's cruel. It's mean. But it's a more comforting piece of advice in the long run than any amount of sympathy that might provide succour in the short run but ill-equips you for the realities of a long life.

    My general point is that writers of today are more and more willing to take the view you refer to instead of offering a detached unsentimental take.

    Back in the 19th century, even a very "liberal", "progressive" writer like Dickens never indulged too much in misplaced sympathy. He is quite cutting and unsentimental in his portrayals of say the lazy Barkis, the highly emotional Mr.Peggotty or the totally impractical Mr.Micawber.

    Times have sure changed. And this reflects in the writing of our times.

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  10. this seems like a very interesting book and since i am currently in bangalore, guess can relate a little more to it. will read it for sure...good stuff Jai

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  11. Shrikanth: I'm sure there is a lot of sense in the broader points you are making, but I also suspect that in your championing of past writers and their "unsentimental" views, you may - ironically - be engaging in a rose-tinted view of those very writers (and a rosy view of the past in general - we have discussed this before in other contexts). As for that casual, generalised remark about "the writing of our times" - oh, please! There are at least as many deeply cynical, cuttingly pragmatic or outright nihilistic writers around today as there have ever been in the history of the written word. Authors of an idealised past certainly didn't have any kind of monopoly on clear-sighted or "cruel" writing that equips people for the realities of life.

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  12. Btw, no issue at all with your comments being an "annoying digression" - most of them are not digressions at all, they are relevant to something in the post or in the book/film being discussed. All I was saying was that with mental space and time being extremely scant these days, I can't always respond properly to in-depth comments.

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  13. Jai: I'm atleast as critical of rose-tinted views of pasts as most people around me.

    I wasn't being critical of "the writing of our times", but just noticing a societal trend towards greater tolerance of "misfits", "queers" or "eccentrics".

    This is not an altogether undesirable trend. I suppose as societies get richer they tend to become more tolerant of diversity which was perhaps viewed as an annoyance in earlier eras.

    Am sure a lot of "sexually marginalized" people back in the 19th century led very normal lives, reared families and remained "repressed". The same people today are encouraged not to conform and lead an alternative lifestyle, which can potentially be less rewarding and entails greater risk than a "conventional, repressed" life.

    I can't bring myself to pass a value judgment here. It's just a sign of the times we live in. But things do get carried too far when a young man gets worked up even with very "minor" choices he is asked to make at the dinner table in a restaurant.

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  14. Quite a succinct review and now I am eager to read the book.

    Thanks for the neat dissection.

    Joy always,
    Susan

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  15. Chrism929: thanks, that's an interesting analogy. Will look out for The Paradox of Choice.

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  16. Shrikanth , very interesting posts you make and I have read so many of your discussions with Jai on all his previous posts. I am unable to stop myself from making one comment this time as much like Jai says, its very difficult to come up with the time and focus to write one solid response by organizing all the scattered thoughts in one's head in a few lines .

    I can understand what you mean when you make a statement like this "But things do get carried too far when a young man gets worked up even with very "minor" choices he is asked to make at the dinner table in a restaurant." I am reminded of one of Jai's posts on "Serious men" by Manu Jospeh where he quoted an instance in which the main character looks at shampoo hoardings or something and thinks of the privileged people who think hairfall is a problem. That observation made me laugh and then made me stop laughing because I personally have been having a tough time with my hairfall problems :).
    Jokes apart , those are the kind of observations I would consider unsentimental . when a person is presented with a choice between "bottled" and "regular" water , I did not find anything sympathetic in the portrayal of something as basic as this . It is just an observation and we all make such observations at various points of time and if a writer has captured it well , then he or she should get the brownie points they deserve .


    Though that said like you I prefer my reading to be unsentimental too and my favorite writer Richard Yates did just that . Not sure if you have read any of his novels/short stories . You should if you haven't . I have a feeling they will appeal to you immensely. But quoting someone like Naipaul who is cruel and mean just because he likes to without offering any sort of an insight behind that cruelty is not the best example I would accept . J D Salinger , George Orwell , JM Coetzee, even Jhumpa Lahiri and Kiran Desai to a certain extent have come up with some fiercely unsympathetic and neutral characters without making them complete queers or misfits . And so agree with Jai's last comment . There is a lot of "cruel" representation of the human mind out there today and its fascinating in a way an older novel can never be. I was reading some of Tagore's plays a few days back and more than once saw myself finding it like a fairytale in all its idylic and ideal worldliness.

    Sorry for the long post Jai and though I started out with all my focus intact , I have no idea how much of that has reflected in the post and how digressing it may have gotten (reject it if you want to :)) . I have a lot more to say , but I'll stop . This was another good post from you .
    Shrikanth , keep up with all your comments and I may not come around to respond to something you might have to say to me in response :).

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  17. when a person is presented with a choice between "bottled" and "regular" water

    As a final aside, I was just reminded of the great Federico Fellini film 8 1/2.

    In the opening scene, you have the movie director Guido who suffers a nightmare where he is being pilloried/harangued by various colleagues, girlfriends and other hangers-on, who just don't let him lead life the way he wants to.

    Most viewers applaud Fellini for that remarkable scene. But I think Fellini totally misses the point. Fellini is not "criticizing" the system but somewhat unwittingly celebrating Western civilization in that one scene! So yes, I like that scene but not in the way most people do.

    The greatness of Western civilization lies in its complex social/commercial apparatus with its numerous dependencies that ensure people keep pulling each other down! That's the only way human vanity can be kept under check. Countries that have had this leg-pulling culture in place for the longest period are the ones that have never had a dictator in their history (Referring to US and UK. The latter hasn't had a dictator since Cromwell).

    We must thank our stars that this leg-pulling culture has been exported throughout the world over the past 300 years which is precisely why the world is a freer place today! So what Guido perceives as a "constraint" on his freedom is precisely what makes free societies possible on earth.

    Men who enter Western civilization from other cultures (like for instance people who move to a complex city like Bangalore from the rural Karnataka hinterland) may find it hard to relate to the complexity of urban life and hence their rage, which manifests in the kind of question the character asks in the restaurant.

    Jai - Sorry. This was another long one. I assure you it's my last comment.

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  18. Shrikanth - Those are superb comments. I was once told during a film course that one should learn from life and not from films. You have turned it upside down. Your comments on 81/2 are so perceptive that i think one can learn a lot from films. i have seen that film, but could never look at it the way you explained.

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  19. Prashila, Shrikanth: I'm a little surprised by this polarising distinction between "unsentimental" and "sentimental" writing; in my view a mature reader should be able to move back and forth across the continuum linking these two poles without expressing blanket preference for one or the other (in the process suggesting that there is a definite thing called "unsentimental writing" which can be easily distinguished from a definite thing called "sentimental writing").

    Fellini is not "criticizing" the system but somewhat unwittingly celebrating Western civilization in that one scene!

    In your view, Shrikanth. Personally I think he's doing exactly what he set out to do, and doing it rather well within the context of the story. But we have had several differences of opinion in the past about "human vanity/individual selfishness" vs the supposedly moderating power of society - no point in going through all that again.

    As for the paragraph in one of your earlier comments that begins Am sure a lot of "sexually marginalized" people back in the 19th century... and almost implies that things were better in the good old days when marginalised or "different" people were being subjugated by a strict but basically benevolent society: well, I'm going to take the kindliest possible interpretation of that comment. Which is the only thing that will stop me from giving you a good online spanking (and I don't mean the sexy sort!).

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  20. Jai: Some clarifications.

    I agree with you that we cannot really "classify" writing into two categories. That would be very naive. Having said that, we all know that there are two kinds of people in this world - those who divide the world into two kinds of people, and those who don't!

    well, I'm going to take the kindliest possible interpretation of that comment. Which is the only thing that will stop me from giving you a good online spanking

    It isn't "society" with its formal diktats that is constraining Guido in that nightmarish "dystopia". But normal, selfish people he deals with on a daily basis who force him to be accountable. Like I said earlier, no man is an island. And it's dystopias of that kind which gave birth to the modern world. In England parliamentary governance came about because groups of feudal lords got together to rein in the King and not let him turn vain! These original "parliamentarians" weren't noble minded but just interested in showing the King his place. It's leg-pulling at its finest. That's why when I switch on the TV set and watch our MPs abusing each other, I feel very good and secure about the future of Indian democracy and its prospects as a free society.

    almost implies that things were better in the good old days when marginalised or "different" people were being subjugated by a strict but basically benevolent society

    Well that's what makes the complex urban civilization we live in so very special. The fact that we are able to debate such touchy topics without losing our cool and reducing everything to a "Good vs Evil" showdown like what we see on Ramlila grounds.

    Western civilization after all is that rare civilization which can laugh at itself! That is why books like these are written all the time where essentially representatives of Western civilization like Ms Nair look within and offer nuanced critiques of modern urban life.

    Anyway I did not imply anything in that line you highlighted. Explicitly stated that I am in no position to make a value judgment.

    Moreover I did not refer to "subjugation" but voluntary adjustments made by people to conform to societal "types" driven by their own self-interest.

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  21. Thanks for recommending this book. It has been one of the easier to read books with perfect pace.

    I am still very surprised that this book is written by a woman. Typically I am always able to identify the gender of the creator of a particular film or book and I find books buy women very different from books by men. (of course, this is not the only thing, but I am also able to make a guess about whether the Author is liberal or conservative, Traditional or Modern, Introvert or Extrovert etc.). If I were not told about the author of this book and asked to guess the gender, I would have been 95% sure it was Male.

    This was my first Anita nair book and I am going to try some other books by her.

    P.S - I was really hoping for a more cynical and grey character when Gowda was introduced. Instead, he turned out to be very likeable and easy to relate to.

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  22. Thanks for the comment, Sid. And yes, maybe we'll see a greyer side to Gowda emerge in subsequent books.

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  23. Cut like Wound is about a serial killer loose in Bangalore. As Borei Gowda tries to catch the killer, Anita Nair's narration brings alive Bangalore's sights and sounds. She captures the dilemma's of Borei's mid life crisis, his loneliness and his tendency to call a spade a spade. The novel moves leisurely yet is not slow. The book, unlike, other books in this genre does not present the hero as a caricature but as a mortal with his own share of doubts and desires and it is that depiction of Borei that lifts this book above the ordinary. A good read and I can't wait for more in the Borei Gowda series.

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