Reviews

Such a Long Journey by Rohinton Mistry

burritapal_1's review against another edition

dark emotional funny hopeful informative reflective sad medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? No

4.0

Bombay 

'69-'74

Takes place in these years; indira ghandi is pm.

I read "such a long journey" that was about this middle class Indian family who, they live in this apartment and there's some real characters that live in that apartment house with them. there's a man who is the mental age of a child because he fell out of a tree and hurt his leg and it affected his mind too. He steals the doll from the little girl from The Noble family and jacks off onto it. 

Tehmul has a habit of following people, from the compound gate to the building entrance, up the stairs,

" it bothered some of them so much they would hide by the gate and peer into the compound to see if the coast was clear, or wait till his back was turned and then sneak through. Others dealt with it by yelling and shooing him off, wildly waving their arms till he understood he was not wanted, though utterly bewildered as to why this should be so. 

If Tehmul's trailing habit did not irritate them, his scratching habit was certain to. He scratched perpetually, like one possessed, mainly his groin and armpits. He scratched with the circular movement, a churning, scrambling, stirring motion of his hand, and those who sought more subtlety in a nickname than Tehmul-Lungraa called him Scrambled Egg. Women claimed he did it deliberately to annoy them. They said that his hand regularly moved downward in their presence, and it was rubbing and caressing himself that he did, more than scratching. Muà lutcha, they said, knew perfectly well what all his parts were for, never mind if his head was not right - what with a big packet like that, and no underwear even to keep it all in place, it was shameful to have him wandering around Dingle dangle." 🤣

So this family, well I guess the whole apartment, is Parsi. They do this thing, when people die, where they put them in a place called the Tower of Silence, where they let crows and vultures eat all the Flesh off them and then they put the skeleton down the middle of it and I don't know what they do with skeleton. 

Anyways this takes place in the time of Indira Gandhi where she's really fucking up the country. The family had this friend that they called Major Jimmy and he went to work with the Indian secret police which turned out to be really just a special force for Indira Gandhi's doings. the dude was trying to do right by his job, but got looped into fraud and stealing money from the India bank for Gandhi's election fraud and she made it so he got blamed for it when he would get caught. he got tortured in the prison and he got really sick and anyways he involved the Noble family, the father, who was his friend, Since the father, worked in a bank. he gave him money to put into an account and he said he would be able to do it because he worked in the bank and it was some of that money that Indira Gandhi had him steal from the bank. That was a really good book I gave it four stars. 

Noble family 's medicine cupboard:

"... there was glycodin terp Vasaka or sore throats, Zephrol and Benadryl for coughs, aspro and codopyrine for colds and fevers, elkosin and erythromycin for septic tonsils and inflamed throats, sat-Isabgol for indigestion, coramine for nausea, veritol for hypotension, iodex for bruises, Burnol for minor cuts and burns, Provine for stuffed noses, a yuNani Cure-all for external use (which looked like plain water but was meant to eradicate every ache and pain ) and, of course, entero-vioform and sulpha-guanidine for diarrhea...."

Ten lakh rupees, $12061.68 usd,Are in a paper package picked up by gustad at a booksellers in the Chor Bazaar. The letter accompanying the money tells gustad to put it in a bank account under the name Mira obili. To use the address of gustad or Jimmy Bilimoria's PO Box in Delhi. It's the government's money. Jimmy bili works for RAW, indira gandhi 's secret police.

Sohrab, the Noble's 19-year-old son:

" ' you take a name, mix up the letters, and form a new name. Mira obili is an anagram of Bilimoria. Gustad pretended not to listen. He verified the letters mentally, however. SohRab fingered the bundles of currency and toyed with the notes. 'Jimmy Uncle says this is government money, right? So let's spend it on all the things government is supposed to do. Wouldn't it be nice to fix the sewers in this area, install water tanks for everyone, repair the - ' "

SohRob later takes off from home because of an argument between him and his father. His father is angry that sohRob had gotten accepted into the Indian Institute of Technology, and sohRob had decided not to go. This was a huge point of Sorrow for Mrs Noble, and the reason for her constantly going upstairs to the white magic telephone woman Miss Kutpitia. 

Noble is often referring in his thoughts to the sad loss of his father's bookstore. There Comes A Time In the book when we find out what happened. the father had had to declare bankruptcy, and only with the help of a friend of Gustad had they managed to sneak away some of his father's possessions the night before.

"...The word had the sound of a deadly virus, the way it had ravaged the family. All because of one proud man's stubbornness. Pappa putting off his operation for months, finally having to be rushed to hospital. And before undergoing the anesthetic, handing charge of the business to his younger brother, against everyone's advice. For Pappa hated being given advice. 

The brother had a formidable reputation for drink, and for frequenting the race course. The speed with which he mortgaged the assets and fuelled his vices was astonishing. Gustad's father emerged from hospital to the shambles of what had once been the finest bookstore in the country, and the family never recovered. The strain of it all sent his mother to hospital. And then, there was no money to pay for a private room and nurse, nor for gustad's second year college fees. His father called him to explain and fell to pieces. He wept and begged forgiveness for failing him. Gustad did not know what to say. Seeing his once Invincible father behave in this broken manner did something strange to him. He began to utter scornful things, while silently swearing to himself, then and there, that he would never indulge in tears - not before anyone, nor in private, no matter what suffering or sorrow fell upon his shoulders; tears were useless, the weakness of women, and of men who allowed themselves to be broken."

Gustad's coworker dinshawji is a funny guy:

" 'and did you read today about what America is doing?' Gustad Confessed he hadn't read the papers for the last 3 days. 'CIA bastards are up to their usual anus-fingering tactics. Provoking more killings and atrocities.'

'why?' 

'it's obvious, yaar. If there is more terror, then more refugees will come to india. Right? And bigger problems for us - feeding and clothing them. Which means we will have to go to war with pakistan, to solve the refugee problem.'

'right.'

'then, the CIA plan is for America to support pakistan. So India will lose the war, and Indira will lose the next election, because everyone will blame her only for the defeat. And that is exactly what America wants. They don't like her being friends with russia, you see. Makes Nixon shit, lying awake in bed and thinking about it. His house is white, but his pajamas become Brown every night.' "

One time Dinshawji is talkking about going on the train: 

" 'this is nothing,' said Dinshawji. 'one day I had to take the train around 11:00. You ever did that?'

'you know I never take the train.'

'it's the time of dubbawallas [tiffin box carrier]. They are supposed to use only the luggage van, but some Got in the passenger compartments. Jam-packed, and what a smell of sweat. Toba, toba! I began to feel something wet on my shirt. And guess what it was. A dubbawalla. Standing over me, holding the railing. It was falling from his naked armpit : tapuck - taPuck - tapuck, his sweat. I said nicely, "please move a little, my shirt is wetting, meherbani." But no kothaa, as if I was not there. Then my brain really went. I shouted. "you! Are you animal or human, look what you are doing!" I got up to show him the wet. And guess what he did. Just take a guess.'

'what?'

'he turned and slipped into my seat! Insult to injury! What to do with such low-class people? No manners, no sense, no nothing. And you know who is responsible for this attitude!- that bastard Shiv Sena leader who worships Hitler and mussolini. He and his "Maharashtra for maharashtrians" nonsense. They won't stop till they have complete maratha raj.' "

Dinshawji is a nice character,  and i was sad when he died.

Miss Kutpitia, who lives in the apartment house where the Nobles live, has much white magic advice for Dilnavaz to work to try to get sohRab to come back home and have peace reign in the family again. Besides waving a lime clockwise around sohrab's head, she squeezes the juice and gives it to Tehmul, the compound's idiot. But now miss Kutpitia has another trick up her sleeve, something to do with Tehnul's toes and fingernails. This is a really gross part. When she does his toenails:

"she looked up again after finishing the other hand. Tehmul was digging his nose and transferring the pickings to his mouth....he held out his hand for the lime juice. 

'not yet. Must do toes also.' He removed his shoes without untying the laces, and pulled off his socks. Two rupee notes, folded small, fell out of the right one. He carefully reinserted the money, then rubbed his toes urgently, kneading dirt, dead skin and sweat into little black bits which flaked off and fell to the floor. A smell like vomit now filled the kitchen. 

Battling back the nausea that threatened to overcome her, she tackled the brittle, greenish-yellow crescents. But the light, ticklish contact of her squeamish fingers make him squirm and giggle. She had no choice other than to grasp the reeking foot, hold her breath, and complete the task."

...

" after washing her hands thoroughly, she prepared coals on a small grate over the stove, the way gustad did for the loban thurible after his evening prayers. Miss Kutpitia had insisted on that, it had to be a coal fire - neither the kerosene stove Nor a candle flame would do. When the coals were glowing, she turned off the stove, packed the chunks together, and emptied the plastic dish over them. The nail clippings came alive with hisses and crackles, shriveling and curling inwards, then turned quickly into shiny black, bubbly residues. 

A horrible Stench stabbed at her nostrils, acrid and in miasmic, making her recoil. . ."

midnight_wanderer's review

3.0

3.6 very well writen and the depiction of Bombay at the birth of Bangladesh through the lives of people in a residdntial compound is very vivid and moving

kingbob's review against another edition

emotional mysterious reflective sad medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.25

yogarshi's review against another edition

3.0

Calling the Shiv-Sena and its Grand Old Man names is a sure way of attracting attention to yourself. HBut Mistry has done a fine job in chronicling the daily struggles of an ordinary man. His expectations,dreams,failures and triumphs are all poignant and moving but the book lacks in parts and you feel like skipping whole pages at times.

Memorable Characters - Gustad, Dinshawji and Miss Kutpitia

lboag's review

slow-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character

3.0

mlautchi's review

“By the time he got to the window the rain became a downpour. The wind was sweeping it inside. He took a deep breath to savour the fresh moist earth fragrance, feeling great satisfaction, as though he had had a hand in the arrival of the monsoon.” (129)

“The new owners sold transistors, toasters, tyres, auto parts, plastic crockery – everything essential for the magic which swallows up a hundred years of history and propels a county stuck in the nineteenth century into the glories of the twentieth. Sometimes, swallowing a hundred years in one gulp caused acute indigestion. But the troubled populace was assured by its venerable leaders that it would pass; for the interim they offered free of charge wordy ANODYNES which mitigated no one’s suffering.” (155)

“ … Looking out at the empty fields where a faint light glimmered here and there. Would this journey be worth it? Was any journey ever really worth the trouble?” (259)

“You see, I don’t like to weaken anyone’s faith. Miracle, magic, mechanical trick, coincidence – does it matter what it is as long as it helps? Why analyse the strength of the imagination, the power of suggestion, power of autosuggestion, the potency of psychological pressures? Looking closely is destructive, makes everything disintegrate. Why to simply make it tougher? After all, who is to say what makes a miracle and what makes a coincidence?” (289)

elemmakil's review

4.0

Intialainen kirjallisuus harvoin pettää, eikä tämäkään ollut poikkeus. Melankolinen tarina keskiluokkaisen parsiperheen elämästä mumbailaisessa kerrostalossa, joka on täynnä mieleenpainuvia hahmoja. Moniääninen, -värinen ja -hajuinen Intia huokuu kirjan joka sivulta, ja vaikka zarathustralainen hautajaisrituaali on tuttu joistain muistakin romaaneista, niin silti se on aina yhtä kiehtova.

janu0303's review

4.0

Mistry is a bleak, gritty writer that I've come to love. The three books I've read by him are about Parsis in Mumbai during the Emergency. Each describe a kind of heartbreaking corrosive sorrow of life that left me uncomfortable. I didn't understand the ending for this book though. It was abrupt. But yes, I can see why it was banned from the syllabus of U of Mumbai. Quite critical of Bal Thackerey and Shiv Sena. Overall, I'd recommend this book and this author.

leagueofrobots's review against another edition

4.0

Silence. The moment between finishing a novel and returning to the real world. With Mistry, that moment seems to stretch for hours. You leave characters who have changed since the beginning of the novel, usually due to events out of their control; the sordid randomness that seems like fate of Mistry's vision of India.

Mistry's characters feel real, feel like they could be your neighbours. His plots have the right balance between tension and reflection. Most of all, Such a Long Journey, like A Fine Balance, has an incredible atmosphere that can't be captured in one word. Others have said melancholy, but it's a fusion of the melancholy, the mundane, the miraculous and the mystical.

dotuke's review

emotional inspiring reflective sad slow-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

3.25