The Reluctant Fundamentalist by Mohsin Hamid

There are very few movies that improve upon being adapted from a book. And in cases where they do, usually the book wasn't that great to begin with. So I don't know why I was so disappointed watching the movie "The Reluctant Fundamentalist" last night. I guess expectations had a lot to do with it.

The post-9/11 novel was written as a first person monologue by Changez with a mysterious stranger met in a tea house in Lahore. I had loved the abstract & allegorical (& at times, playful) writing. Symbolism abound in the narrative, the more obvious of which was "Erica", a clear reference to America, both of which were obsessed with events in their history to the extent that Changez (pronounced "Chan-gez", but again, an obvious allegory) is unable to truly come to terms with or overcome. Both are ultimately denied to Changez for the same reason. The movie completely missed this point.

Clearly, it is difficult to adapt a abstract novel into a very literal visual medium such as film. For this, I make allowances. But what I detested was the liberties taken to change whole chunks of the novel & providing an ending, which wasn't even hinted upon in the book.

In the novel, issues Changez grapples with are core, such as whether he has sacrificed his identity in his pursuit of success - the American Dream, so to speak. We never learn the American man’s identity, even as Changez regularly interrupts the story to address him. We get a sense that he had been pursuing Changez, who may be a leader of anti-American protests. Apparently, the man is “on a mission” — and he may be carrying a weapon. There a a lot of questions unanswered in the novel but Changez's interruptions lend his monologue an Arabian Nights-style.

There is also an irony in the title that is lost in the movie. In his job on New York's Wall Street, Changez analyses the fundamentals of corporations to come up with financial valuations. Consequently, we ponder whether every critic of America in a Muslim country should be labeled a fundamentalist, or whether the term more accurately describes the American capitalists. 

And at the end, we wonder whether we have a fundamentalist & a potential assassin sitting at the table, where the end of Changez's story may mean the death of one or the other. A more capable director would have done a better job. Having said all that, the movie, on its own, is good. It's just not as good as the novel!

The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt

771 pages. The length doesn’t bother me, so long as I’m engaged, a book can go on forever as far as I’m concerned. But when it’s 771 pages of meandering prose touching on everything in tremendous detail, it can get excruciating & sometimes desultory. TMI, as some would say.

Donna Tartt’s writing is beautiful and evocative and she seems knowledgeable in a myriad of subjects. If you love New York (as I do), her descriptions of Manhattan will take you right there. You’ll learn about Rembrandt & his students – most notably the artist who painted The Goldfinch (who, interestingly, existed) & whose fate is shared tragic comedy style with his painting. You’ll also learn about drugs (both illegal & prescription), alcohol & their dependencies, antique furniture & the painstaking steps in their restoration… you get the drift.

About 80% through, the ball falls for me. Everything was hollow & there's only so much that good writing can save. The protagonist seemed the most self-absorbed character I had come across in a long time. Although his childhood friend was previously an engaging & favourite character, his antics become increasingly implausible. Leaving me cold.

Even so, I kept willing for a rebound. There must be a reason for all the rave reviews it has received. I get it, it’s a Bildungsroman. But like the bird in The Goldfinch, he is forever chained to a single point in time. Life is hard, we all know that. But we get through & experience joy from outside ourselves. This seems impossible for the protagonist & in the final pages, he finally addresses us, the reader. A little too late though.

80% in was also the turning point at which I just wished for the end to come quickly. And now that I’ve come to the end, I can only say, it should have come sooner.

And this is The Goldfinch painted by Carel Fabritius, the painting that features prominently in the start & end of the book, just very cursorily in between.