A beautiful book. Lahiri’s decades-spanning tale centers on two brothers born in Calcutta around the time of partition. Both high achievers—and both very close—they nonetheless diverge as one, Subhash, heads to the United States for graduate school in oceanography and the other, Udayan, dedicates himself to the region’s violent Communist uprising.
The rest of the novel explores the repercussions of those decisions, both for the brothers themselves and the generations that follow. On the one hand, you have an immigrant’s tale of alienation and eventual accommodation, one that’s sensitively captured. Subhash falls in love with his new home, making a life for himself there that wouldn’t have been possible in the country of his birth. Udayan, in contrast, remains committed to India, falling in love with a self-destructive movement that promises to liberate it—and ends up being crushed instead.
Udayan falls in love with a woman as well, and it’s that relationship—and its entanglements—that end up driving the rest of the story. Lahiri uses the theme to explore guilt, repentance and above all the ongoing damage the past’s decisions can carry to the present day.
While the point of view varies, the bulk of the book centers on Subhash. That causes some problems; while he’s a likable character, he’s also a steady, conservative actor, and the narrative can drag a bit as we follow him through a series of responsible choices. I think the author wanted to place this honorable man and his choices in the spotlight, but while they shouldn’t pale in comparison to the revolutionary fervor of Udayan, they do.
A better balance between the two brothers might have made the book more propulsive. But it would also be a mistake to paint the brothers as equivalent, as Subhash is by far the more substantial of the two. Udayan is an idealist, but the outcomes of his actions, viewed through the long lens of “The Lowland’s” narrative, deserves the moral judgment that’s ultimately placed on him.
While some characters are more sympathetic than others, Lahiri is fair to all of them. She also captures the richness of her settings, both steaming Calcutta and cool Rhode Island. (California makes an appearance as well, but it’s more of a placeholder.)
Like Subhash, this novel is reserved in its pacing presentation. But spend enough time with it, and you see the unshakable core at its center.