What is your Lowland?: Book Review of “The Lowland” by Jhumpa Lahiri

'A classic story of family and ideology at odds, love and risk closely twined… An author, at the height of her artistry, spins the globe and comes full circle' Vogue

'Hypnotic… Belonging and alienation, place and displacement: these have long been Lahiri's abiding fictional concerns, but in The Lowland they are more alive than before, in the very shapes of her sentences' Daily Telegraph

'Resembles a mosaic, artfully pieced together and it reveals painful emotions' Literary Review

'Revealingly heartfelt… Poignant, deft' Washington Post

'Whenever readers, a million times, reopen the first page of The Namesake, Interpreter of Maladies, or The Lowland, they falter, enervate, and get lost by recognizing themselves, drenched with the ceaseless complexity in their emotions… But once more, they become loose by how bluntly and in an untroubled manner she comprises the concoction of resentment, remorse, and nostalgia' The Robinson Review



"What is your lowland?" If someone asks you, you would encounter a dilemma with the phrasing of "What is your lowland?" and "Where is your lowland?" Which phrasing is correct? Does it have to be correct? If yes, what is the moral standard of accepting an answer as correct?

Are all these questions worth your time?

This is how Jhumpa Lahiri, the author of The Lowland, so deftly challenges the readers to ponder on the surroundings, life, and the value of parental & familial relationships. As the bonds between the questions above create complexity or even confusion, Lahiri's language further communicates the sublime essence of entanglement in life. While readers commonly anticipate themes, key messages, or the inspirational sense that originates from the book, her formative story displays from the tiniest but delicate details to the generous and overwhelming moments in life. Through guidance from the author, the readers' outreach of sympathy for the two brothers, Udayan and Subhash, intensifies. Even after the last page has been flipped over, the moments linger in the readers' hearts, drenched with sorrow and desolation. This review will discuss how Lahiri illustrates the consequences of imperative life choices, as well as a potential interpretation of the question "What is your lowland?"

Page 3 writes, "Certain creatures laid eggs that were able to endure the dry season. Others survived by burying themselves in mud, simulating death, waiting for the return of rain."

As the two groups of creatures encounter different processes for survival and survive, the author shows the different fates of Udayan and Subhash but reveals that they need each other.

From the earliest moment, they were always beside each other. It was impossible to imagine their separation until Udayan, who was just about 15, drove himself to the Naxalite movement. (Here, a historical background is a requisite for understanding the will of Udayan). In 1967, the Naxalite movement, led by Charu Majumdar and peasants, aimed to seize power to free the peasants from the dominance of oppressive landlords. Through this incident, countless people died, so cruelly, that some got shot in front of their parents. Udayan, who was impulsive and believed that taking no action was the same as contributing to the violence of the incident, doesn't resist his revolutionary aspiration. While Subhash stays with Udayan, he is ambivalent and anxious about the fact that he is helping Udayan to conduct reckless actions. A few weeks later, Subhash moved to America to expand his science studies. Through the exchange of a letter with Udayan, he notices that Udayan fell in love with a girl called Gauri. However, as soon as Subhash decides to return to Calcutta, Subhash gets notified that Udayan is killed presumably by the police.

As readers are already aware, Lahiri uses simple but descriptive language to transport the atmosphere, even the smallest exhale, and the intimate space of the moments in the story to the readers. The first half of the book discusses the family background of Udayan and Subhash, and how closely related they are, and concludes by delivering an inexpressible shock with the death of Udayan.

"You're the other side of me, Subhash. It's without you that I'm nothing. Don't go."

Even though they aren't physically separated in the first half of the book, I thought that the author foreshadows the separation through this quote: "But Subhash heard it as a command, one of so many he's capitulated to all his life." Lahiri uses phrases such as 'command' and 'capitulation' to solidify the idea that Subhash felt beaten by his brother. Udayan's desperate need for him to stay approached as disgruntlement to Subhash. Lahiri depicts the tension between maintaining familial relationships, meanwhile fostering one's own thoughts and feelings. Furthermore, her depiction challenges the readers to redefine the meaning of 'family' as a factor that may influence one's life-changing decisions but also can limit one's potential. What is the value of a family? How can the presence of a child and family awaken one's irresponsibility and guilt?

With inexpressible shocks, Subhash tries to figure out the cause behind Udayan's death. Nonetheless, he finds it elusive to find out due to the avoidance of the family members. Eventually, he learned that Udayan was killed by the police due to the radical position he took. With void and abhorrence absorbing the household, Subhash convinces Gauri, the widowed woman, to move to America and restart with him. By hardly discarding Subhash's instinct for Gauri, in other words, his want to replace Udayan, Subhash realizes the inevitable future of their relationship. Gauri leaves her daughters Bela, and Subhash and continues her study of Philosophy. After twenty years, Bela settles down quickly due to her perpetual struggle and resentment when she thinks of her mother. After Bela informs Subhash that she is pregnant, he reveals that he is not her real father. With the woundable truth, Bela gets shocked and later, tries to slowly embrace the truth. When Subhash falls in love with a woman called Elise, he contacts Gauri to sign the divorce documents. After Gauri disguises herself as a woman with less guilt, struggle, and apology, she enters Bela's house to convey the documents. As expected, Bela spits out woundable words to her, however, Gauri acknowledges that they are worth enough to describe her. Later, Bela sends her a letter that once her daughter and she are ready, they can try to meet one day.

"The moment he returned to them after Udayan's death, the moment he stood before them, she'd felt only rage. Rage at Subhash for reminding her so strongly of Udayan, for sounding like him, for remaining a spare version of him."

"Don't make a scene, Bela. Don't be a coward.
I watched your father killed before my eyes, she might have said.
I don't like you, Bela cried out, shaking herself free. I'll never like you, for the rest of my life."

"She learned that an act intended to express love could have nothing to do with it. That her heart and her body were different things."

The second half of the book answers the question - "How can the presence of a child and family awaken one's guilt and irresponsibility?" From the perspective of Gauri, with the presence of Udayan's death, she would have been tilted and focused on her past. But with the thought of restarting life, which suited her wants, she would have decided to settle down with Subhash. Instead of a firm determination that she is going to live happily with Subhash, she might have lost all the energy to repudiate the situation, like water flows through the lowland, she settled down in America. Because of her indescribable rage and the similarity, she finds out between Subhash and Udayan, her aspiration to escape life soon returns as guilt to her and is remembered as irresponsible by Bela.

Some critics criticize that the book failed to sufficiently describe the emotions and thoughts of Gauri. Since she plays a crucial role in the story, the readers would have expected to delve into the perspective of Gauri. As a reviewer, I also believe that there should have been more evidence and explanation for her state of mind. On the other hand, wouldn't describing Gauri's mind have been a challenge for the author? I feel she would have the most complexity in her emotions dealing with guilt, resentment, loss, responsibility as a mother, and more. Therefore, Lahiri might have wanted the readers to actually think about it and if possible, bring out empathy for her.

"What is your lowland?"

When Subhash and Udayan were in their childhoods, picking up golf balls near the lowland, they were warned by the police that they shouldn't enter the area. One of the reasons being that they're children, they were able to cover their faults without any consequences. But as they grew up as an adult, whenever they made a decision – whether it is big or small–a consequence followed. No matter how severe or active the consequence was, it followed. At this point, the lowland turns out to be a land that went through changes. It isn't as flat and generous as it used to be. As a reviewer, I believe that my lowland is myself. When I was in elementary school, I was very welcoming toward myself. When I made mistakes, I was able to give a pat on my back to not repeat the same one. But as more responsibilities and burdens piled up and my shoulders frequently reached their unendurable point, ironically, I narrowed, forced, and was strict with myself. Hence, as the lowland unintentionally discarded the memories of Udayan and Subhash by encountering changes, I as well don't give much space for me to recall those fulfilling memories. But I anticipate more challenges and situations to affect me so that I can go through dozens of changes. Change isn't always intimidating or passive, but can bring more potential to a person just as the book, The Lowland by Jhumpa Lahiri, so deftly shows how consequences can change one's fate so swiftly or so gratefully.