After reading some stimulating prose, I have this tremendous urge to write.
The other day I picked up "Unaccustomed Earth" by Jhumpa Lahiri. I picked this book along with three others and left it till the last. I am glad I did. The effect of this book has been such that for the life of me I cannot recall which the other three books I picked were....
I remember having arguments with this friend Geeth, about literature. To me, literature had to have substance: a story, a thread, a point. Geeth insisted on the other hand that substance notwithstanding, literature was dead without style. While I had no patience with anything which did not have twists and turns, he would be blissful after reading twenty-five pages about a sun-set, if written well.
I now sympathize.
Lahiri's writing does not have any twists and turns. When you get to the ending, you do not put down the story with a satisfied sigh of triumph as you see everything falling into place. Its not something which will keep you up at nights turning page after page. The magic of Lahiri lies in the way she feels the deepest emotions in a scene and puts them down in writing. This magic will make you come back and read the story again and again.
I have just finshed the second story in the collection. The first one was quite good but in the second one she, to my disappointment, went back to a semi-dramatic ending.
For good writing I now realize, one does not need to be a W. W. Jacobs or an O. Henry and conjure up an exciting ending.
Twenty-five pages on a sunset can also be beautiful.
