The Glass Palace, Amitav Ghosh

Historical novel

The Glass Palace is a historical novel spanning a century of South Asian history, narrated through the story of two families, for three generations. For each that I was reading, I was sure that it would be my favourite part of the book, and yet even as other characters emerged and changed the colour of the narrative, I was glued to the page. Rajkumar, Dolly, Uma, Neel, Dinu, Alison, Manju, Arjun are all such beautifully crafted characters; and even the minor characters feel like they could gaze at you through the words, like the exiled King and Queen of Burma, Thebaw and Supalayat (who really existed). Ghosh is incredibly meticulous in his research—both field research and documentary: he even lived in Myanmar in order to write the Burmese sections of the novel—and the thoroughness shows in his writing. Historical events, cultural details are woven into the pattern of the story and they breathe in the lives of different characters.

There are so many beautiful passages in the book that I couldn’t even highlight them all, but here is one that I loved from a soldier character (no spoilers!) who’s having personal problems and wishes he could ask his friend about them:

He tried to form the sentences in his head and found that he did not know the right words in Hindustani; did not even know the tone of voice in which such questions could be asked. These were things he did not know how to say. There was so much that he did not know how to say, in any language. There was something awkward, unmanly even, about wanting to know what was inside one’s head. What was it that Hardy had said the night before? Something about connecting his hand and his heart. He’d been taken aback when he said that; it wasn’t on for a chap to say that kind of thing. But at the same time, it was interesting to think that Hardy—or anyone for that matter, even he himself—might want something without knowing it. How was that possible? Was it because no one had taught them the words? The right language? Perhaps because it might be too dangerous? Or because they weren’t old enough to know? It was strangely crippling to think that he did not possess the simplest tools of self-consciousness— had no window through which to know that he possessed a within.

The Glass Palace, Amitav Ghosh

It’s a moment of questioning and personal growth that, I feel, well represents the way the narrative gives us insights into the hearts and minds of different characters, even adapting the lexicon for one or the other—see here, “it wasn’t on for a chap to say that kind of thing”.

This novel tells many beautiful stories, in a gripping way that is at times intensely cinematic: some scenes I can just seewhen I think about them, as if I’d watched them in a film. I wish I had the ability to paint, to share them with you. Since I don’t, I can only heartily recommend the book.