[This is the sequel to the Fireproof post, which you’ll have to read to make sense of the questions]
Given Raj Kamal Jha’s reputation for reticence and not being interview-friendly, I was a bit worried when I went to meet him. But we got off on a good note: when you peruse someone else’s bookshelves and discover the points where your tastes intersect, you have a conversation starter neatly wrapped up. We touched on Philip Roth (he has a whole shelf of Roth titles, mostly those delightful Vintage matte-cover editions), Paul Auster, Spiegelman’s Maus and Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials before moving on to cinema: David Lynch, Hayao Miyazaki and Spirited Away, even Unbreakable, which I was delighted to learn is his favourite M Night Shyamalan film, as it is mine. Then we realised that time was running out and the official interview hadn’t even begun.
How did “John Brown and a dog called Chum” come about? Did you already have a book in mind when you wrote it?
No, not at all. In May 2002 I was in Ahmedabad on work and went to Gulbarga [where a mob had burnt 38 residents alive in February that year], almost like a riot tourist. I have this terrible disease of getting distracted – looking at what’s in the margins instead of in the centre of the frame – and there was a child’s partly burnt workbook that reminded me of my childhood, when one would freeze in panic if a textbook went missing. And this seemed to be such a denial of those memories: here was such a book casually tossed on a huge, charred heap, lying there for three months. It kind of burnt itself into my mind.
I came back to Delhi and the piece almost wrote itself. It was a very personal response, certainly not journalistic, but I'm lucky to work for a paper that put it on the Edit page. Then I realised it was like a string I had pulled from a huge fabric hovering over me, and I had to keep pulling at it hoping to puncture a little hole in this fabric. So that I could breathe. It couldn’t be addressed in the conventional journalistic way by getting our reporters to file stories, I had to deal with it personally. That’s how the book happened.
What affected you most about the riots?
Strangely, the hate on display didn’t. Because, of course, you can't legislate tolerance – all of us have our prejudices, you have the right to hate your neighbour. But only inside your head. You can’t deny him his rights, and what was most shocking was how this denial happened. It was as if the law didn’t exist. Senior officers of the State, IAS, IPS, who must have all read their Locke, their Rawls, their philosophy of justice, their CrPC, their Constitution, let politicians ride them. And not one of them has had to pay.
Was that the driving force for Fireproof?
The driving force was the need to write it. And some questions I had about intolerance. Being intolerant isn't about being Left or Right or about religion, or about one's level of education, it's something much more elemental, I think. There are well-educated people, incredibly caring fathers or husbands, who are viscerally intolerant of The Other. Maybe it works the same way as love. Love needs a leap of faith, hate does too. So is intolerance linked in a very fundamental way to who we are as human beings? I still don't have the answer to these questions but these were things I needed to address.
I wonder sometimes about those of us who think of ourselves as liberal and tolerant… are there certain aspects of our lives (unrelated to religion or community) where we are very intolerant too? I think those who have been discriminated against, who have been judged on the basis of one attribute of theirs or because of the group they belong to, and haven’t been damaged enough to be consumed by anger…they tend to be more sensitive about these things. Because you cannot expect someone to be sensitive if he or she is seething inside.
Amartya Sen talks about this in Identity and Violence – the process by which a person is discriminated against by narrowing him down to one identity. Whereas we all really belong to so many different groups.
Yes, that’s what all of us are, like the characters. For example, one guy is a job applicant, he watches TV, he falls in love…and he’s also a bigot.
Where did the idea for the footnotes – the dead people’s narratives - come from?
I wanted to let them whisper their stories, uninterrupted. Imagine if each person killed in Gujarat had the tools that you and I have: a laptop, broadband, a good turn of phrase, access to TV studios – and of course a telegenic face would help. Think of the discourse then. That’s why when I look at this so-called national outpouring over Jessica Lall and the candlelight vigils, I can’t help thinking, where did all that paraffin go when Gujarat was burning? Is it that Mattoo, Lall, though ghastly crimes, are drained of politics and prejudice and that’s why we are more comfortable getting worked up about them? Because they don’t challenge our darker side.
The image of the deformed baby is also very striking.
The birth of a child is the ultimate rebuttal to cynicism; it's almost a physical manifestation of Hope. It's like the child is saying: "I had no choice in this but now that I'm here I’m going to live.” His deformity, of course, makes that statement louder, bolder. The child in the book, though, is many things depending on how you read him: guilt, conscience, guilty conscience and, of course, a baby.
Your fiction tends to be allusive, dreamlike, fragmented, while your day job is as a journalist who deals in hard facts. Is there a conflict there, a double life?
I think we exaggerate the importance and value of style. What's more important to me is the story, the idea. And I could never have written the book if it hadn't been for the hundreds of stories that were coming in from reporters. One of the things I like most about my job is that there’s a story pool lapping away at me all the time. So the two lives coexist quite well.
At a book discussion for your last novel If You are Afraid of Heights, everyone else was going on about how more people should read, but you said that was an unrealistic expectation. Why?
See, the few people who are damaged enough to love reading are essentially those who are comfortable with solitude. Also, reading forces you to have both imagination and empathy – two troubling little things – so you see a bit of yourself in anything you read. And to expect all of us to be like that is ridiculous.
Besides, it’s so unfair – why, if you are not a publisher, would you want huge numbers of people to read? (Laughs) People who feel the need to read will read. It's personal. Even a writer who is very full of himself will never say, "There are 150000 people who need to read me."
So you write more for yourself than for some imaginary reader?
The one reader you really need to care about – at the risk of sounding very selfish – is yourself. You write what you have to write. There's something in your mind and there's something on the screen and there's this huge gap in between. And you know that however hard you work, you're unlikely to narrow it. But you keep trying – I think that’s what forces you to go from your second to third book and so on.
So there will always be people who won’t get from my writing what I get out of it. But there is absolutely nothing I can do about it other than try to work on the writing. I can’t work on myself. And I don't say this in arrogance, it's a simple statement of fact. It sounds selfish, but the writing process is selfish. It’s like a virus – maybe that’s the wrong word but I can’t think of a substitute. Maybe “disease” without the I-V drip!
And the prescription is your book. It is unique, it’s your own shit.
But even the most selfish writers do put their work out in the public domain.
Of course I'm very happy that someone is willing to publish what I've written. And publishing makes a difference – it helps you take leaps in the dark, not worry much about safety nets. But personally, I feel lucky if just 4-5 people like something in my book. Even if a single paragraph works for them, that's very satisfying.
You have passages in your work that are almost stand-alone.
I think paras can work in isolation, pages can work, even individual lines can work in isolation. Fleeting scenes from movies leave a strong impression on me. We were talking about David Lynch just now and in Blue Velvet, more than the famous scene of the severed ear lying on the ground, the moment I remember is the one where after a very violent fight, one of the characters jumps on top of a car and starts singing the Roy Orbison number "In Dreams" about the sandman tiptoeing into his sleep every night. Even now when I hear the song, I can’t delink it from that scene.
There’s a great passage in Pamuk’s Snow where the protagonist cannot understand why the woman he loves values her faith more than his love. It’s just 1 or 2 pages but it’s so plaintive and powerful, and it tells you more about the debate over religion and faith and humanism than 500 books you might read. He doesn’t understand why she doesn’t reciprocate. That exchange, just a couple of pages, you can carry inside you for the rest of your life.
This penchant you have for probing the interior lives of characters – where does that come from?
That’s almost as difficult to answer as “Why do you write?”
These are things even I don’t understand. It’s incredibly personal. Beyond a point, as a character gets fleshed out, he starts to demand certain things and if you have those things to give him, you give them to him. Once you tell yourself that an entire spectrum is available for a character – good, bad, terribly ugly – it’s possible to imagine ugliness for a character without having experienced the same things yourself. You just go where the story pool leads you. And it doesn’t always come up with something beautiful, you might produce something unreadable as well.
What I'd really like to do is write a book where each page blows me away. But that will never happen. The shoemaker’s elves won’t come tip-toeing in at night and fix my paragraphs. There are scenes in my head but I just don't have the words to express them. This might sound like a cop-out, but maybe it’s because this language, English, isn't wired into my double helix.
You didn’t grow up speaking English?
My mother tongue is Maithili. In school it was English but with friends mostly Hindi. My wife is Bengali so we speak most of the time in that language. But like I said, it's probably a cop-out to blame that. Eventually, as the saying goes, a painter learns to adapt to his paintbox: you have a limited number of tools and you work with those. Yes, it’s possible to steal a new paintbrush once in a while and throw it into the box, a new shade of colour, but when you're 40 and your neural synapses are all wired (laughs) – "Jo hona tha, ho gaya".
All you can do now is keep searching for new bits of canvas, the occasional brush to steal.
I've not read any of Raj Kamal Jha's books. But was a great fan of his column About 800 Words in the Sunday Express ages ago. Is there anyway I can get those articles on the Net? Does he blog? If not, Jai please request him to do.ReplyDelete
One particular article I'm searching for is about a french publisher who wrote his autobiography by dictating it through movements of his eyes after being paralysied. If I get that it would be a great help.
When his first novel The Blue Bedspread came out I was really excited about reading it (a fellow bihari and a fellow iitian). But I was a little disappointed, I should rather say baffled, by it at that time. I realized even then he has a very distinctive "voice" even if the story didn't make much sense i read the entire book.ReplyDelete
I think it is very difficult to use real life atrocities like gujarat riots and *not to* turn them as background to your "stories" and finally arrive at some banal and obvious conclusions in the end, either despairing or uplifting. I hope he avoids this in the book...
The first interview I have read with interest from start to finish. You have drawn out the writer well. Prompts me to go and buy 'Fireproof' asap, if it is available already in Colombo.ReplyDelete
Btw, I have never heard of the language Maithili... Which region is the language from?
When is the book going to be released? .. I went looking for it over the weekend... nice interview..ReplyDelete
One of the most honest author interviews I have read. Thank you for bringing this out of Jha. Fireproof, from your review, seems to be, and I hate to put it like this, an "important" work. Somehow, the cover not having the title or the author name seems to resonate with what you have written.ReplyDelete
this footnote thing...is it at all like jonathan strange? that sounds like it could work.ReplyDelete
somehow, i'd have a hard time getting to the point where i'd want to read any book about the riots. just because it is so hard not to make a mess of such difficult events. i mean, i watched parzania and was so put off.
this for paresh palicha....ReplyDelete
that book is called the diving bell and the butterfly by Jean Dominique Bauby... you have to ask jha or the indian express about that column... but you may of course buy the original, the book, on amazon...
art... maithili is a language from Bihar....ReplyDelete
Paresh: I seriously doubt Raj will be interested in blogging, but I'll pass the suggestion on!ReplyDelete
ART: for Maithili, see this.
Janaki: Should be out in a few days. I haven't seen a proper copy myself yet (I read the thing on A4 sheets!).
ALok: I haven't read The Blue Bedspread yet. Should soon. (Of course, I say that about 20000 other books too.)
Just like that: thanks. Ya, I really enjoyed talking with him. With some interviews (or conversations, more accurately) you get into a zone of complete candour, and this was like that.
Space Bar: no, not like Jonathan Strange. These are one-pagers at the end of each chapter, with each narrator recounting his/her story in a short, unpunctuated stream of words.
i'd have a hard time getting to the point where i'd want to read any book about the riots.
Ya, in that case you're best off avoiding it. It's an interesting story in its own right, but the riots do play an important part - more than just a backdrop.
Anon & Jai: Thanks a ton.ReplyDelete
just one more thing, jai, and this is just a journalistic suggestion (never mind the last comment was posted below the interview post): it would have been a lot better to use a carricature of Raj instead of the pic. I am sure you know a lot of them who would do this favour for fun, free. thanks to the curly nest on his head, as complex as his thoughts, he is an illustrator's delight. as any of the many cartoonists you knowReplyDelete
Pankaj: will keep that in mind and maybe replace the picture at some point, if I find a willing illustrator.ReplyDelete
please do us a huge favour.... please read jha's if you are afraid of heights and decipher it for us, please. read it, didn't get it (how dumb!) at places, and was told by an informed one... "there's a puzzle you have to unravel to get to the book"... so please please make jha reading look easy for us... who knows he may become really really famous and i'd feel silly i didn't get his second book after all...ReplyDelete
Anon: He gives all the clues, I guess, in the first prologue when he tells you to look at the book cover and the things that you cannot see.ReplyDelete
That is how the book needs to be read. It's about making things up. All the three sections are made up in the heads of the three key characters and the child is the only one who is let in on the secret.
Perhaps that is why even the title of the book is made up of the three titles.
Weird. But I kept discussing the book with a fellow traveller for days, we still do.
anon: thanks... will re-read the book...and keep what you said in mind.ReplyDelete
I have been waiting so long for this book to be published. 16 February, according to Amazon UK.ReplyDelete
The Blue Bedspread is a book I picked up randomly. I read it and loved it. So of course I had to read If You Are Afraid of Heights, too.
I have all the books of Raj Kamal Jha and being always in the constant search for Indian authors, I came across the Blue Bedspread, I absolutely adore his style of story telling, I wont say unique but it has the typical Indian'ness to it, most of which you could relate to, it's about those things that you see and yet do not see, I instantly fell in love with the book.ReplyDelete
I instantly gobbled up If You Are Afraid of Heights and waited for Fireproof, Jha has been absolutely spectacular in his ways and means he chooses to weave the story and most importantly put it so simple, put it out there that you cannot but help notice of it.
Most interesting reading with a writer&Journalist of an age..I am indeed had patience to read all the three fiction without ever embarrassing to folly of imagination or empathy.He has lucid delineation approach apart from freeing the spirits to a humane level..Mr.Jha has huge following base and it's very tardy to confine them in the statistical construct.ReplyDelete
His writing is essential for those who looks for sensible literary expression of life in modern English writing..appreciates the bond of Mr.Jha with his routes in Mithila which has unique history of scholastic tradition and learning...