Rereading The God of Small Things

Throughout Roy's The God of Small things, there is a sense of foreboding. The novel's switching of time periods makes it read almost like a mystery you are trying to piece together. The foreshadowing in the novel ranges from subtle to very obvious. I think this can be classified as one of those books that is worth reading more than once. Just flipping through the text while planning my essay, I have come across a few things that make you say to yourself, "oh that's what she meant." For example in the first chapter of the novel Roy writes, "Looking back now, to Rahel it seemed as though this difficulty that their family had with classification ran much deeper than the jam-jelly question," (24). I never would have guessed that the classification difficulties would result in Rahel and Estha's ending. I love rereading books, partly because I like to know what's going to happen. I can focus more I think the second or third time I read a piece, and I am not distracted by simply wanting to know the resolution if the story. The God of Small Things is a books I hope I can retread and focus on how intricately Roy is able to spin the web of the story. I think it's one of those magical works that you get something new out of each time you retread a part of it. Roy has filled the pages with small tidbits that lead you right to the ending, but you have absolutely no idea until you reach the last page.

Love in The God of Small Things

I think one of the characteristics that makes Arundhati Roy's The God of Small Things such a fascinating book is the complexity and intricacy of the characters and their stories. I have never read a book, besides maybe one of Faulkner's works, the dives so deep into so many different people. This flipping from character to character, while still remaining focused on the overall plot, gives unique insight into not only the generational divide of the family, but also the complex love (or lack there of) that connects them. Mammachi is baffled that her children choose to have "love" marriages, although I use that word loosely in reference to Ammu and her husband. It does not make sense to her that children would choose to go against what is always done. It never crosses her mind that the abuse she faced from her husband would in anyway affect her children's view on marriage. This being said, it is almost as though history repeats itself with Ammu and her abusive marriage. However, the generational divide appears here when we see Ammu leave her physically abusive husband, another event that Mammachi does not understand. Then there is Rahel, who also married for love, yet ends up divorced. Every single family member we are introduced to ends up divorced (or practically separated in the case of Mammachi and Papachi) or unmarried. No one in the family loves each other fully and without limits, except maybe Rahel and Estha. They all seem to fall for the wrong person. Most of the characters break the love laws. Through the novel, Roy comments on the futility of the Love Laws, that decide, "who should be loved. And how. And how much," (217). With each character from this well off, upper-caste family breaking the societal rules of love, we see that love is not a force that can be tamed, but something so powerful that even the most stubborn can fall into its trap.