The Paralyzing Effects of Colonialism and Caste in Arundhati Roy’s The God of Small Things

The Paralyzing Effects of Colonialism and Caste

in Arundhati Roy’s The God of Small Things

 

 

“Colonialism is not satisfied merely with holding a people in its grip and emptying the native’s brain of all form and content. By a kind of perverted logic, it turns to the past of the people and distorts, disfigures and destroys it.” -Frantz Fanon

 

 

            History is a construct that Arundhati Roy plays with liberally in her first and only novel The God of Small Things (GST) and for good reason. The novel bounces between the years 1969 and 1993 exposing the reader to the personal narratives of main characters in the process. Look close enough at these narratives and one can start to see a pattern; not every account given aligns with reality. From Baby Kochamma’s idealization of Father Mulligan to the Kathalki dancer’s revision of history to appease the short attention spans of tourists, history is altered and repackaged much like the products of Paradise Pickles & Preserves. Frantz Fanon, the postcolonial scholar, locates colonialism’s effectiveness in the ability of the colonizer to destroy history in favor of imposing its own narrative which is why the idea of history (which is inextricably tied to culture and identity) becomes increasingly helpful in discussing matters of post colonialism and globalization. By identifying the agents in Roy’s The God of Small Things who are permitted to create versus those whom are prevented from doing so, one may uncover begin to unravel the problems inherent in a system that is divided by class and also caste.

            Before delving into Roy’s work, it would be wise to prepare oneself by adopting a concrete theoretical lens: in this case, a Marxist lens. Viewing GST in relation to class and labor helps problematize not only trends towards globalization but also illuminates how the deeply embedded system of caste may be hindering social progress. Though the caste system is more complicated than the touchable versus untouchable dichotomy, valuable insights can be gained when paralleled with the struggle between the bourgeoisie and proletariat classes. Friedrich Engels defines these latter terms as follows:

By bourgeoisie is meant the class of modern capitalists, owners of the means of social production and employers of wage labour. By proletariat, the class of modern wage labourers who, having no means of production of their own, are reduced to selling their labour power in order to live. (Marx & Engels 14)

 

In Roy’s novel, the Ipe family is the middle-class bourgeoisie with Pappachi and Chako being the patriarchal leaders of the class. Vellya Paapen and (generally speaking) Velutha conversely represent the proletariat.

            The Ipe family dominance in the novel stems from their status as anglophiles. Meera Tamaya, in her work “Ishiguro's "Remains of the Day": The Empire Strikes Back”, aptly problematizes the anglophile in a post-colonial world on the grounds that “When Britain acquired much of the globe, it also trained… the bureaucrats to aid in their own exploitation. Part of the training was to turn them into Brown Englishmen, speaking their master’s language, wearing their masters’ clothes” (52-53). If anyone in Roy’s novel embodies the “Brown Englishmen” it is Pappachi. Donning a “woolen suit” and driving his skyblue Plymouth, Pappachi is the literal apparition of imperialism that is thought to have been long dead (47). Chako inherits his father’s anglophilia and uses his English education to establish his superiority that “permitted [him] excesses and eccentricities nobody else [could express]” (38). 

            Even given their status as members of the bourgeoisie, Roy emphasizes that in many regards they are no more powerful than the Paravans they subvert. Neither Pappachi nor Chako are permitted agency or the power to create, they are only allowed to perpetuate narratives of the West. This denial of personal agency is detrimental. Roy emphasizes Pappachi’s diminished status through his inability to be acknowledged in discovering an unknown species of moth which only pushes the man into “black moods and sudden bouts of temper” (48). Being denied this accomplishment pushes his character to continue to subvert others but more specifically his wife Mammachi. Rather than instill confidence in her abilities on the violin or her budding pickle and jam business, he breaks her down with nightly beatings. In his article, “Dangerous Artisans”, Devon Campbell-Hall focuses on how “The apparent self-sufficiency of the skilled artisan is reminiscent of Gandhi's teachings [that exhort] fellow Indians to develop … manual skills as symbolic tools of practical independence against the ruling British Raj” (47). If one is to follow the logic that manual skills are tools of resistance in a post-colonial world, then Pappachi’s vendetta against Mammachi can only be viewed as a perpetuation of colonial supremacy. Though Pappachi does not belong to the Western tradition, he accepts their stories and imposed supremacy whole-heartedly thus erasing his own identity in the process.

            Though Chacko stops Mammachi’s nightly beatings, this does not remove Chacko from his involvement in perpetuating the status quo. Roy emphasizes that if it was not for Chacko, Mammachi’s small business would have never industrialized or become commercialized as it does. Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, in their “Manifesto of the Communist Party”, emphasize how “Modern industry has converted the little workshop of the patriarchal master into the great factory of the industrial capitol” (18) and in this story, this is literally what manifests. The unnamed and low volume business of Mammachi is swallowed up by Chacko and industrialized. A name with “regional flavor” is placed upon it (and the skyblue Plymouth), industrial machines for production are purchased and Mammachi goes from owner to “sleeping partner”(55-56). Such a dramatic shift is in line with Marx and Engels concept that the Bourgeoisie stay in control through “constantly revolutionizing the instruments of production, and thereby relations of production, and with them the whole relations of society” (16). Now the laborers of Paradise Pickles & Preserves are even further distanced from their work due to the mechanization of the production process which, as Marx and Engels claim, dehumanizes the worker and depletes personal satisfaction. After eventually running Paradise into the ground, it is ironic that Chacko proceeds to run a business selling old artifacts in Canada (16). This small detail by Roy furthers the point that Chacko is merely a salesman of relics of a bygone age or, in other words, ideologies of a deposed imperial power.

            In opposition to these two men, Roy presents us with the Paravan, artisan and quasi-engineer, Velutha, who is actually encouraged to create and is given agency not afforded to other Untouchables. Devon Campbell-Hall appropriately terms Velutha a “social hybrid” and pushes us to “realize that Velutha's confidence that allows him to transgress social boundaries stems from his desirable manual skills” (52). In light of Velutha’s abilitiy, Roy purposely does not imbue Pappachi or Chacko manual skills. The two are merely managers and preservationists of imperialist ideals. This is what makes Velutha’s character stand out and become critical to our understanding of the novels greater themes of caste distinction in comparison to globalized notions of class. In discussing the works of Homi Bhabha, Devon Campbell-Hall suggests,

[Homi] dares us to move beyond traditional binaries and search out a new dimension of social experience, one characterized by a lack of stasis. The mobility that occupying such a theoretical in-between position makes possible enables the dangerous artisans to undermine the established communities from which they came (46)

 

Pappachi, Mammachi, Chacko and even Baby Kochamma are all characters who can never be occupy a space characterized by a lack of stasis because they need to uphold their dominance over others. Roy pushes this onto the reader by examples such as Baby Kochamma reinforcing the use of the English language in the twins and their subsequent internalized oppression which surfaces in instances like when Miss Mitten tells the twins she saw the devil in their eyes (58). John Lutz makes the claim that Velutha’s crafted gifts to Ammu “represent small fulfillments of his creative human potential that... are tiny acts of resistance that cannot be classified and go unnoticed by those who aim to commodify and control life (13)”. The Kochamma family, who literally preserve aging ideas of class and caste in through their factory just as the colonizers above them “redreamed” the families’ dreams to idealize the West, are guilty of overlooking their own human potential. Remembering one’s potential and honoring one’s history is key to resistance to imperialist ideals.

            Baby Kochamma is an intriguing character in the GST in that she represents the bourgeoisie character wholly engrossed and distracted by global consumer culture. Baby herself is privy to the cheap goods and commodities that stem from the industrialization/ globalization of the world. John Lutz, author of “Commodity fetishism, patriarchal repression, and psychic deprivation in Arundhati Roy's The God of Small Things”, gives us undo emphasis that “Baby cherishes her possessions rather than cherishing people” (4). Why is this important? Well, for one, it affirms that “society as a whole is more and more splitting up into two hostile camps, into two great classes directly facing each other” (Marx & Engels 15). Her lofty position in the ruling class alienates her from those in the proletariat class who are working merely to stay alive. Roy succeeds here in complicating the notion of community that is necessary in the liberation of all marginalized people (in this case, the Untouchables). Further, Roy makes it clear that Baby understands that her position within society is not a safe one. Her accumulated wealth that “she inherited by outliving everybody else” (28) leaves her in constant fear of losing everything. Marx & Engels reason that “[private property’s] existence for the few is solely due to its non-existence in the hands of [the nine-tenth]” (23). What is dangerous in this situation then is Baby’s will to prevent the status quo from changing which ultimately leads in the execution of Veultha.

            Before moving on to a new point, one must seriously consider the introduction of television into Baby Kochamma’s life. Prior to the arrival of satellite TV, Baby finds contentment in her gardening. Similar to how Mammachi gained local acclaim for her small pickling business, so does Baby grow attention for her immaculately kept garden (27). Though it could be argued that her intervention and manipulation of plants may mirror her later desire for control, I would argue that Roy effectively shows Baby as being capable of production and potentially resistance. This is all suddenly dropped in favor of the television that finds its home in the Ayemenem household. Lutz makes the claim that “The television serves as an instrument of oppression and containment that assists in subordinating human activities to the vicissitudes of the market” (6). Baby’s emersion into consumer culture is total and complete and relegates her and even Kochu Marie to inaction. Arundhati Roy is highly aware of the detrimental effects of inactivity which makes progress and elevation of the proletariat impossible.

            Another critical character in the novel is Vellya Pappen. Not only does he embody the proletariat class but also brings to the forefront the deeply engrained prejudices regarding caste. His treatment by the Kochamma family could be classified as sub-human. Just as Pappachi is the extreme example of the “Brown Englishman”, Vellya is the epitome of the backward bending untouchable who erases his steps in the presence of the touchable. Roy effectively uses these juxtaposing image in order to clarify that the divide in Indian society is not merely between who has money and who does not but also who is born touchable and who is not. Vellya’s strong stake in the hierarchy of caste coupled with the literal ownership of his body parts by the elite Kochamma family results in “[Vellya’s] gratitude widen[ing] his smile and ben[ding] his back” (73). Roy constantly refers to the love laws being so deeply rooted in the minds of the Keralan people that no one truly knew their origins, merely that they predate every date in history.

            The reason this relationship should be torn apart and analyzed is encouraged by the theoretical work of Marx & Engels that fathoms that “the proletariat, the lowest stratum of our present society, cannot stir, cannot raise itself up without the whole superincumbent strata of official society being sprung up into the air” (20). When one begins to really consider Arundhati’s work and the implications of the lingering Brown Englishman and the modern day, arching Untouchable, there is reason to be concerned. Roy is suggesting that even with the radicals such as the Naxalites who force Baby Kochamma to wave their red flag inside the Plymouth that that is not nearly enough to progress India forward into a future that restores their lost past. The policing of the borders is just too great.

            Velutha and Ammu’s affair with one another is the best example in the story of a hopeful “tomorrow” free from the restrictive social walls enforced by all the characters. Critical thinkers like John Lutz determines that in GST “Anything that operates outside of the category to which it is assigned creates a threat that is most often dealt with by violence” (6). Then what can be made of by Mammachi’s banana jam? It can hardly be contested that Roy did not purposely mention the production of the banned product known as banana jam that “according to the [Food Products Organization] specifications… was neither jam nor jelly. Too thin for jelly and too thick for jam. An ambiguous, unclassifiable consistency, they said” (31). The reason that this product takes on so much importance lies in the fact that although it is said to be banned, Mammachi still produces it. Considering the heavy policing she conducts throughout the novel this is curious. Especially in light of this revelation being reached in Roy’s narrative by Rahel when she is returned. After the years of trauma induce by her witness of Velutha’s death among other heinous acts, Rahel’s character realizes that the

…difficulty that their family had with classification ran much deeper than the jam-jelly question… But it wasn’t just them. It was the others too. They all broke the rules. They all crossed into forbidden territory. They all tampered with the laws that lay down who should be loved and how. And how much. (31)

 

This moment of realization, though tragically reached at the wrong time, in a way gives hope for the future. If not hope, it at least allows for the possibility of a character (who was so affected by trauma in upholding the caste and class system) to reflect on their own history and be able to take stalk from it rather than completely letting it go.

            What makes Arundhati Roy’s novel so gripping is easily summed by John Lotz who lauds the novels ability to “present alternative features of human nature in forms that align human desire with the natural world in a common antagonism to oppressive social structures” (14). The relations even with the Kochamma family are far from what could be deemed normative in relation to the ideal of human’s coexisting. Roy attributes the lasting effects of colonialism on the native combined with the restrictive caste system in preventing true social growth within Kerala. I doubt that Roy would argue the only true solution to overcoming the oppressive forces of social structures to be a rush to communism, but it does emphasize how even a radical move such as communism still could not overcome the norms in place. This is further witnessed by Chacko’s apparent desire to implement Marxist ideals when he was one of the main promoters of the suppression of class. Roy, in her novel The God of Small Things, calls for resistance to suppressive social structures by means of restoring the native’s historical past and an undermining of the streamlined industrialized forms of production in favor of the self as being a source of creation and agency. Then and only then will the deaths of radicals such as Velutha be questioned and promote serious change.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Works Cited

 

Campbell‐Hall, Devon. “Dangerous artisans: Anarchic labour in Michael Ondaatje's the English

patient and Anil's ghost and Arundhati Roy's The God of Small Things” University College Winchester (2008): 42-55.

Lutz, John. “Commodity fetishism, patriarchal repression, and psychic deprivation in Arundhati

Roy's The God of Small Things.” Mosaic. 42.3 (2009): 57.

Marx, Karl & Engels, Friedrich. “Selected Works, Vol. One” Progress Publishers (1969): 98-

137.

Roy, Arundhati. “The God of Small Things.” Random House Trade Paperbacks (2008).