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A review by brew_and_books
China Room by Sunjeev Sahota
3.0
I am not sure if I have learned the art of dealing with a sharp sense of longing after completing a book. An air of ambivalence around and a deep hankering within that something was amiss. My feelings after reading this book emanated from the deep dark corners bearing a resemblance to discomposure and apprehension. Probably and precisely something unsettling and deeply troubling.
China Room is a beautifully written and unflinchingly emotional book that enamors and immerses the reader in ‘29 rural Punjab and ‘90s Britain interweaving two different narratives with the flow. The modern timeline follows the life of a desolate and distanced young man, growing up in the suburbs of Britain relentlessly withstanding racism and social exclusion and wound up in the travails of heroin addiction. Familially estranged, he finds himself in his ancestral home as he tries to lay bare the threads of the life story of his great-great-grandmother, Mehar, while grappling his way out of substance abuse and addiction.
In the intertwining narrative set in pre-independent India and a timeframe when only the women are expected to meet the harsh ‘customs’ and unbending rituals, we meet a 15-y/o Mehar as she ponders which of the three sons of the family is her husband, along with the two other newly wedded women of the house. It sounds absurd to keep the identity of one’s husband from a woman but what is particularly disturbing is the ensuing harsh rebuke that stems from any questions concerning the same. For the part of husbands, they know the inside-out of their wives, who in turn lead their lives in complete obscurity. Safe to speak, any attempt on Mehar’s part to gain clarity on her husband’s identity emanates considerable risk and dangers.
I found the book to start off with tremendous potential, but it started circling the same point after the premise affixation. It kind of fell flat and appeared just centered on one particular aspect of married life. I wanted so much more from the characters than just what happened to them or their relationships with the people around them. I believe there were a lot of loose ends that could have been worked upon. Working a bit more on the characters, not just the main ones, would have certainly added more to the dimension of the story and depth to the characters. Despite it being competently written and emotionally evocative, I could not feel the turmoil inside me, nor was I entirely moved. I longed to know more about how the characters felt and how they battled their harsh realities. Also, the dual timeline narrative did not quite work well for me; I was more interested in the primordial storyline, like till the end. It was a reasonably engaging read and a brisk one, so not too much of a disappointment, but assuredly, not entirely surprised that this did not make to the shortlist.
China Room is a beautifully written and unflinchingly emotional book that enamors and immerses the reader in ‘29 rural Punjab and ‘90s Britain interweaving two different narratives with the flow. The modern timeline follows the life of a desolate and distanced young man, growing up in the suburbs of Britain relentlessly withstanding racism and social exclusion and wound up in the travails of heroin addiction. Familially estranged, he finds himself in his ancestral home as he tries to lay bare the threads of the life story of his great-great-grandmother, Mehar, while grappling his way out of substance abuse and addiction.
In the intertwining narrative set in pre-independent India and a timeframe when only the women are expected to meet the harsh ‘customs’ and unbending rituals, we meet a 15-y/o Mehar as she ponders which of the three sons of the family is her husband, along with the two other newly wedded women of the house. It sounds absurd to keep the identity of one’s husband from a woman but what is particularly disturbing is the ensuing harsh rebuke that stems from any questions concerning the same. For the part of husbands, they know the inside-out of their wives, who in turn lead their lives in complete obscurity. Safe to speak, any attempt on Mehar’s part to gain clarity on her husband’s identity emanates considerable risk and dangers.
I found the book to start off with tremendous potential, but it started circling the same point after the premise affixation. It kind of fell flat and appeared just centered on one particular aspect of married life. I wanted so much more from the characters than just what happened to them or their relationships with the people around them. I believe there were a lot of loose ends that could have been worked upon. Working a bit more on the characters, not just the main ones, would have certainly added more to the dimension of the story and depth to the characters. Despite it being competently written and emotionally evocative, I could not feel the turmoil inside me, nor was I entirely moved. I longed to know more about how the characters felt and how they battled their harsh realities. Also, the dual timeline narrative did not quite work well for me; I was more interested in the primordial storyline, like till the end. It was a reasonably engaging read and a brisk one, so not too much of a disappointment, but assuredly, not entirely surprised that this did not make to the shortlist.