“I don’t see why not” tends to be Dominic Ullis’ common refrain over the weekend ender bender we accompany him as he shoots across Bombay in Jeet Thayil’s Low. It is a constant state of submission to the vagaries of the day, be it accompanying barely known acquaintances to breakfast at a random Irani cafe, a dinner at Alibaug, late-night entertainment at a shady dance bar or just shooting up on the streets. It seems like comparing Ullis, who is dealing with the abrupt suicide of his wife of 4 years, to Bojack Horseman, the protagonist of the acclaimed Netflix show is an obvious observation to make. Both have lost abject control of their lives, everything seems remarkably pointless and the only reason for existence is the next line or swig. The titular Low, a reference to the deep-seated death wish and sadness his wife felt throughout her life, is something that Ullis struggles to come to terms with, much like his equine analogue.
Thayil’s writing is melodic to a fault, if I may say it. The nuanced build-up, the deft transitions, and the verse-like prose is a delight to read. The quality is so remarkable, it overshadows the loosely built foundation of the plot to a great extent. The book is peppered with literary references ranging from unmemorable Aurelian quotes to Sahir Ludhianvi’s Do Pal Ka Shayar, fitting considering the fact that Ullis is a poet. There is a small yet definitive moment where a minor character identifies his occupation without any indication of the same. “You are beautiful and sorrowful like all the poets”, she says. A couple of times, the POV switched over to one of the supporting characters and it irked me, quite frankly as I wanted to stay immersed in Ullis’ thoughts. I didn’t want anything to hamper his stream of consciousness, fueled by ‘fortification’ via heroin and/or cocaine, constantly grappling with his life being upturned and his wife’s memories conversing with him in a spirit-like manner. Also goes without saying, Thayil conjures vivid imagery of Bombay and its typical idiosyncrasies with immaculate ease (Low marking the completion of his Bombay trilogy along with Narcopolis and The Book of Chocolate Saints).
The read: I dove in and out, just like Ullis did post his intake of Ambien throughout the book. I don’t think it’s the kind of book which absolutely grips you from start to finish but generates a certain degree of intrigue despite the glaring issues with the plot in general. There are several references to real-world happenings (Men wearing orange toupees spouting gibberish, Pretend yoga poses by similar men in power, saints being lynched by the masses, and constant nods to climate change ) seemingly out of place amongst the majority of the text. Pick this up if you’re interested in reading a grief account with beautiful prose without the expectations of a solidified plot. It meanders, it tunnels but it is a trip all the same.
3/365.
Trivia: The book references a common misconception that the layout of the Taj Gateway was reversed by mistake with the front gate facing the city. “The Taj was deliberately designed in such a way that most of the rooms can enjoy the sea view and a well-maintained garden was placed in the entrance so as to trap the hot winds from the Back Bay. It was also a logical decision to make the entrance within the city so that it could be easily accessible. The entrance was then reversed to the front side due to growing traffic problems (and this is why the myth was formed). Originally where the carriages were parked is now converted into a swimming pool.” (Reference: Travel Mango)
Documentation
Book: Low
Author: Jeet Thayil
Year of Release: 2020
Publisher: Faber Faber
One reply on “RR#3: Low”
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