A Daughter’s Reckoning: Arundhati Roy and the Legacy of Her mother
Arundhati Roy’s new work, a deeply personal exploration of her relationship with her mother, reads as a intentional act of self-scrutiny. Aware, perhaps, of the complexities of memory and perspective, Roy focuses intently on understanding her mother, seeking out qualities to admire and acknowledge.She writes of a woman who possessed a profound self-love: “She loved herself. Everything about herself. I loved that about her.”
The portrait painted is nuanced, depicting a mother who was both formidable and distant. Roy describes her as an “unaffectionate iron angel,” whose presence, symbolized by the ”metallic swoosh of her iron wings,” ironically spurred her daughter to confront larger issues rather than dwell on minor grievances. This dynamic existed alongside a persistent difficulty in deciphering her mother’s expectations, a feeling of being unable “to gauge what would anger my mother and what would please her.”
The piece evokes a specific Kerala, a world Roy vividly recreates through observation and memory. She recalls a society where even gestures of affection were layered with social performance - husbands theatrically dropping letters for their wives, adorned with ostentatious displays of wealth like “diamonds ‘like tiny searchlights’ in their ears.” these observations are interwoven with deeply personal recollections: a mother liberated before marriage, seen in a sleeveless blouse and smoking; a father dismissed as “a Nothing Man”; and a period of self-revelation experienced as a young woman “alone, and unpregnant” in Rome.
Roy’s evolution as a writer is also traced, from the narrative voice of The God of Small Things to a present-day preference for detailed description - a voice that witnessed her mother “in ruins” in a coffin and on trial, and developed a profound sensitivity to injustice.
published nearly three decades after her acclaimed novel, this work feels like a direct address to the past. The author herself read it in a single sitting, poignantly, on the third anniversary of her mother’s death. It’s a literary achievement that carries a weight of sorrow,born from revisiting “Small Things” and holding them up to the light. A passage reveals a childhood coping mechanism: “As soon as the shouting began, I would flee. The river was my refuge. It made up for everything that was wrong in my life.” this resonates with a sense of shared experience, blurring the lines between the author and her fictional alter ego, Rahel, as both seem to carry the same ache.
Ultimately, the piece resonates powerfully with the experience of motherhood, notably for those who grapple with the inherent contradictions of loving and not fully understanding their daughters, and the ever-present guilt that accompanies that complex bond.
