There is something to be said for the ability to communicate
so much with so little text—though Jhumpa Lahiri’s 1999 collection, The Interpreter of Maladies, expertly
weaves together tales and manages to get across a very human sense of
displacement, discovery, and eventually, settlement, the final story, “The
Third and Final Continent” is a strong piece in and of itself. It details the
immigration of an unnamed Indian narrator to America, and his experiences
adjusting to a new, distinctly different way of life. Despite the simplistic
prose, Lahiri manages to use a narrative tone so effectively that it feels
descriptive without ever losing the pace or the voice of the story.
“The Third and Final Continent” is good at what it does;
that is, it tells a story as well as feels
like a story, but it doesn’t sacrifice realism. One of the piece’s favorite
techniques to employ seems to be repetition—with the “splendid!” exchange
between the narrator and Mrs. Croft, the reference to cornflakes, egg curry, and
other seemingly insignificant concepts, Lahiri crafts, for us, a sense of
movement and evolution in the story. These items don’t change, but the narrator
does, expressing growth and an expanded worldview that makes the ending all the
more meaningful. The most obvious example of this movement comes on page 196,
when the narrator discovers that Mrs. Croft had died.
It
was Mala who consoled me when, reading the Globe one evening, I came across
Mrs. Croft’s obituary. I had not thought of her in several months – by then
those six weeks of the summer were already a remote interlude in my past – but
when I learned of her death I was stricken, so much so that when Mala looked up
from her knitting she found me staring at the wall, the newspaper neglected in
my lap, unable to speak. Mrs. Croft’s was the first death I mourned in America,
for hers was the first life I had admired; she had left this world at last,
ancient and alone, never to return.
He makes a note that he had not thought of Mrs. Croft in a
while—he had moved on from her, and his feelings had evolved from the first
time he met her. Mrs. Croft, in fact, is the source of many evolutions for the
narrator; she is a sort of induction into the world of America, once he is out
of the community of Bengalis, and it is through Mrs. Croft’s treatment of Mala
that he learns to return to that world without absorbing himself into it again.
Overall, “The Third and Final Continent” works well as a
self-contained story of both movement and conclusion. The narrator’s feelings
and perceptions shift and move with the text, even as the text portrays
everyone else as sort of objects or representations—even so, they still feel
alive, and I would like to be able to work that kind of symbolism and
construction into my own stories. I enjoy crafting characters, and I think it
would be a good exercise to work with the significance of side characters and
how to make them seem alive even through the lens of a character caught up in
his or her own personal growth.
I love the quote you chose. It really shows the interweaving of two 'chapters' of the narrator's life linking together. In the quote, it interesting how the narrator notes that he "had not thought of her in several months" and by that time, "six weeks of the summer were already a remote interlude" (196). These measures of times clearly juxtapose two different times of his life merges in in one moment, in the present.
ReplyDeleteYou call "the Third and Final Continent" a story of movement and conclusion. This quote further emphasizes movement in time while also bringing about a sense of conclusion through Mrs. Croft's death and his fixed thoughts while staring at the wall.
You're definitely right that Lahiri's story says a lot in so little space; I myself am amazed by how much I experienced in just a few pages of text. I definitely agree that "The Third and Final Continent" was unbelievably realistic. Not a single metaphor, or any hint of figurative language was used, or at least I can't remember it at all. I wish you discussed the 'symbolism' you briefly mentioned in your last paragraph; I can't think of much that seemed to directly represent any idea, but if you perhaps meant an intangible symbol, like the narrator's journey, then I would understand what you meant. I also feel like while movement was a sure trait in Lahiri's work, not only conclusions, but beginnings are clearly marked.
ReplyDeleteI definitely think you should experiment with Lahiri's method of character development. Though I feel like you would be writing third-person POV stories, what with how character-driven you seem to like your stories to be, I think that attaining that kind of clarity that Lahiri has so obviously mastered would be beneficial to your future work.
Its very easy to forget about the side characters- to not focus on their development as much as the writer focuses on the development and growth of his protagonist. In these kinds of examples, the side characters just exist on the same plane and (for the lack of a better term) stagnate- "The Third and Final Continent" is a good example of how due importance is given to the development of side characters- in Lahiri's treatment of Mala. I completely agree with what you said, about Jhumpa Lahiri really makes them seem alive, even its through the lens of the protagonist. And by doing it through his perception, we learn so much more about him as well- for example, we are shown Mala's assimilation into her marriage- we are told by the narrator about how she cries every night for the first week, and how he just turns his back to her- a kind of lack of sensitivity that's a product of a patriarchal culture more than anything, but then when he sees the Indian woman being attacked by a dog, he worries about Mala and how she would adjust and how he would have to buy her first pair of snow boots etc- and we learn that how he has a strong sense of duty
ReplyDeleteTherefore for someone who enjoys character development, this story is really something that one can learn from.
I like how you mentioned the repetition in the story. I hadn’t noticed it per say, but I definitely felt it. Thinking about it now, the repetition serves well the idea of this narrator’s confusion in this new world—he doesn’t really know what to do or how to act, so he clings to the few things he does know and grows comfortable with. It is a very nice subtle detail that portrays a lot.
ReplyDeleteIt also sets nicely against this evolution that you mention the narrator goes through. As the story progresses, we don’t get any profound internal reflections from the narrator about his changes (until the end), but we see them in these little details. The food, the image of the Indian woman’s sari attacked by the dog, and especially Mrs. Croft. The way that he refers to his emotions as he leaves Mrs. Croft:
“I did not expect any display of emotion, but I was disappointed all the same.
I was only a boarder, a man who paid her a bit of money and passed in and
out of her home for six weeks. Compared with a century, it was no time at
all.”
The narrator’s reaction here both reflects this attachment he had made with her—in a way foreshadowing his later reaction to her death we knew was coming—and the passage of time. It is still before the narrator is rooted in America, and his loneliness contrasts with Mrs. Croft’s decades of independence and her strength at living at 103 years old. I think the quote you used is a great moment of culmination of all these themes in the story.