Independent People

It took me a while to read through this one. Twice I have borrowed it from library and worked through the renewal period. Not because it is not interesting or super difficult, just that each page needs to take its own time. I guess I like such description of a different place and time books, and the indomitable human spirit, the strong heart that works through whatever the circumstances of life be.

It is about Iceland. After visiting Japan, which to me felt so island-like, a different sort of undercurrent of an island nation, a different feeling that flows through people, culture, books, just the land itself. I was inspired to pick another island. I remember reading Clezio's writing on Mauritius, and it was beautiful, sparse, slow, tranquil, poetic in its own way. As Iceland also has a nobel prize winner, what better than to try to read one of their books. It is a country sort of removed from the rest of the world, a different geography, different means of living. How does the human spirit respond in these cases?

Reading it gave me the pleasure of those old Russian long books evoking a rich sense of time, place, sensibility. And yet, it is about the very basics, the trappings of life are the bare necessities to survive, the key thing is freedom, independence, or in some way, self-reliance. And that is a life affirming, positive spirit, an elevating idea, expanding the reader's heart. Guess we need more such ideas in the world, which expand people's hearts, make them aware of the divinities within, the indomitable human spirit, the biggest divinity ever.

The book cover says one of the readers saying that they cannot imagine a joy greater than coming to 'Independent People' for the first time. And then introduction talks about another reader calling it a book of their life. And after finishing it, slowly, unwillingly closing the last page, one almost understands the desire to reread. There is a difference between books that hook you and books that meet you on equal terms without sending out any hooks or grips. The hooking is generally in human sentimental register, the pleasures short-term, and as Shakespeare says, none too soon had than despised. But the equality of meeting, which I guess is the only principle that upholds the universe, allows the self to be lifted to the same level as the principle on other side. It doesn't hold, bound, grip or hook you. It lets you be. And you return of your own accord, drawn by the simplicity, the sincerity, the truth of the writing. And one needs to keep getting away to assimiliate it well. And one needs to keep coming back. And it takes all the time in the world! Guess the difference between great literature and any other writing.

I have been reading many other things, and then I have this personal reading project of reading the nobel winners - one thinks that given they come from across the world, and their word has been revered, regarded well by so many, one can just about aspire to know the world through those words, and those eyes. And then I read bridge on drina earlier this year, I read Kawabata, I am reading Tagore, and I read Laxness. And I read a lot many new and old authors which set the world context of their time and place, but the spirit context is set by these amazing (the N prize) writers I guess. Their slow, rich prose. Their way of seeing the world. Their wisdom, good sense, good, healthy sense. Their positive undercurrent affirming life and spirit and 'whatever the circumstances, it is about moving forward in the best possible way', despite all the human miseries going on in the books yet yet yet uplifts you. What better prayer for a reader?

Reading update

The Bridge On the Drina (by Ivo Andric)

It took me a few weeks to read through. One of the more beautiful reads of recent times. 

There are some authors whose outlook of life, view of the world, the perspective they bring to bear on things, lends power, freedom and lifts the reader from the shallow bonds and bounds of daily existence. Andric has such a perspective. Which comes across perhaps less in quotes but just the by the way, the things the author assumes, takes for granted, works as a base from. It cheers you up, however low you feel. Lifts you up to a better perspective, a better seeing where the self is almost forgotten and life as Life is any random life, could be anyone, could be anything, just happens to be people in the story. And even things which are sorrowful and sad, somehow come out with quiet life affirming power, people moving forward with whatever resources they have, making the best of their circumstances. Doesn't it bind us all together? The random varied instances of life that we all are, spread around in different circumstances, each on a personal journey, yet each, still a human being, stumbling, fumbling, imperfect being, trying to make the best of the set of cards one plays with.

Another way to perhaps express it is it rises above the sentiment, the shallows of emotion, the highs and lows of any life, and takes it as a for granted base (that life is like this, for all living beings, everyone just at a different point of roller coaster, so horizontal comparisons are sort of senseless), and builds a beautiful work of literature on that life as we all know it base.

The book is around the bridge on Drina, a river in Bosnia, the town of Visgerad. Centered around the bridge, spanning across 300 years, it tells the history of lives and people living around it. Through it, a sort of rough human history of last few hundred years, although local to Eastern European base. Espisodes and short narratives, sort of loosely connected short stories but such a beautiful look into history, culture and lives of people. And perhaps many books do that, but few authors can elevate life and the reader the way Andric does. 

I read his Bosnian Chronicles a while ago. Do not think I have much notes but was fascinated by the slow moving narrative yet rich and picturesque, a different time and world and yet, lifelike setting. But in this book, perhaps as I get back to reading goals, and open up my reading list and borrowed shelf to wider range, one realises again and again why classics be classics. 

Loved it for its slow richness, and its quiet power. Perhaps it won't be out of place to say, that the noisy world we live in, we all can do with more such head clearing perspective and lifting up.