In Other Words - Jhumpa Lahiri
My Rating: 4/5
After reading a lot of fiction, I decided to pick up a non-fiction book, and fortunately came across this one in our library. And anyway, after reading two of her books (The Lowland & Whereabouts) earlier this month, I decided to give this one a try too. But I must say it was an amazing experience reading her personal account of a much-loved and acclaimed writer searching for herself in words. This was more like when she challenged herself to learn a new language, not only to be able to communicate but to write in it as well. And I guess this was the first book that she actually wrote in Italian, and then never stopped. All other works after this one she has written originally in Italian and had them translated by others, as she believes she will be betraying the language if she does it herself. Three years back, my favourite nephew (I have a few to choose from) moved to Finland, the first thing he was supposed to do there was to learn the language, because it was a must to find a job in his field. His struggle and the effort that it took him to learn, and especially the way he did it, by talking to everyone around initially in broken words and sentences, while some kept correcting him and others just turned and never looked back, Jhumpa’s experience was no different, but Italian is a much easier language in comparison to Finnish. On top of that, I end up reading this book while I too was contemplating learning a foreign language myself and picked up French to start with. After taking three lessons in the last few days, I am so excited about it, and the way she has captured her feelings in this one actually inspired me big time to not only learn it fully and not just learn it that much to watch movies, but I would someday love to learn French literature in its originality too, let’s talk about writing in it some other time.
Of course, just like all her other works (so far, what I have read), they are more about an Expat’s life in a foreign land with its own challenges and all that, this one was no different. Born a British / American with Indian origin parents, she is neither accepted in America or Britian nor any of her relatives or friends take her to be Indian in India as well. Although she can speak Bengali and Hindi fluently, while her parents struggled with English in their own ways, she developed a proper American way of life too early, which again wasn’t acceptable to her parents; even in America, it was compulsory in her home to speak only Bengali. Now look at her dilemma, just like any NRI in today’s time, they are neither here nor there properly. But if her talent is to be praised (much due), she is a Pulitzer Prize-winning author with terrifically acclaimed books to her credit. And now she writes in Italian while living in London. But her obsession with Italian and the final result, as this book has to be praised big time, as her words (even the translation in English) just flow like honey and never gets boring for one moment. This book is compared with Vladimir Nabokov’s intensity and clarity for a startling act of self-reflection and a provocative exploration of belonging and reinvention. Now, that will be sent to me, Nabokov’s way, as I haven’t read anything from him, maybe I will start with his Autobiography, assuming he must have written one if this is how they compare her with him.
Do let me know if you have read this one or any other Jhumpa Lahiri book that became your favourite. I am going to read The Namesake after finishing all her other books first.
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