Women are stories in themselves

In an alternate life, I would have been a book reviewer.  In addition to the pleasure that I get from reading a book, I damn well enjoy writing about it too, in the absence of a real-world setting in which I can talk about them with a few people.

Most book reviews are boring in the academic world, which I inhabited before my former employer decided that I wasn't worth the money.  My review essays were never boring, if I may say so myself.  In fact, even before I became a university professor, I authored a book review essay in which I brought together three (or was it four?) books.  A few years ago, I applied to become the editor of a book review journal.  But, nope, I didn't make it; I suspect it was because I wasn't a real academic who can only speak academese ;)

I am pretty confident that I won't make the cut for publications like the New York Review of Books.  So, I ramble on here about books that I want to talk about.  You have a choice: You can continue reading, or quit while you are ahead in the game ;)

Perhaps you have a question: "Sriram, why don't you join a book club?" 

For one, I don't drink wine, which is what most book clubs are about ;) 

A hilarious piece in The New Yorker a few months ago was on collective nouns in which the book club was explained as:

A group of ants is called a colony. A group of aunts is called a book club. https://t.co/9Yq7IOfojm

— The New Yorker (@NewYorker) October 13, 2021

Ah yes, what will we men be without our sense of humor!

I finally bought myself a copy of the Booker Prize-winning Tomb of Sand by Geetanjali Shree.  Recall the preview blog-post about this book?

This book, authored by a woman who wrote in Hindi and translated into English by a woman, follows Segu, which was written in French by a woman and translated into English by a woman.  This female literary world is simply awesome!

If you thought I am hyping the female angle, well, let me tell you how Geetanjali Shree begins her book:

"Women are stories in themselves ..."

In most of the books authored by men, the stories revolve around male characters.  Females--girls and women--are supporting characters, at best, and they are also often portrayed through a male gaze.  Not often is a man able to tell a woman's story as a woman's story.  (Pedro Almodóvar comes to mind in the world of cinema. Have you seen his Parallel Mothers, for instance?)  In that preview post, I had quoted the translator, who said this in an inteview:

I felt fed up with the male gaze. It’s a bit of a Twitter truism to say this, but there are many interesting stories being told by women, and I was tired of translating detailed descriptions of male desire and women’s breasts. All of my most recent translations, therefore, are of works by women, and the stories really are much more diverse.

Well into middle age, I am enjoying books by female authors, whose tales are engaging.  Compelling stories on the human condition.  And when "women are stories in themselves ...," I can easily imagine that wonderful stories will be told by women.

It will be interesting to do some kind of a blind test in which we are asked to read a book that has been stripped of all the information about the author.  After reading through the book, we ought to comment whether it was written by a man or a woman or a transgender person, and defend our claim.  Perhaps this is the old academic in me talking, eh!