Hello again ASTU!

When discussing the topic of 9/11, I hesitate to speak too deeply into my own understanding of its consequences because of the long-term and biased exposure of its subsequent memorials and the like I have had. In the pieces of literature that we have explored and discussed as a class, The Reluctant Fundamentalist by Moshin Hamid was the first novel that we looked at as a class. In this story, Changez recounts his romanticized relationship with the United States during the era before and after the attacks of 9/11 but doing so in a seemingly casual way with a complete stranger. Through this book, I was exposed to the ‘counter-narrative’ that Hamid offers in his unique novel.

I was born too young to comprehend the culture of fear that first arose since that particular event of terror, what I can understand is only a version of the story, told through the news or through the teachings in school. The strongest moments that I remember it being conveyed as a tragedy to me were particularly only during the anniversaries of 9/11 that were all subsequently used to memorialize the attack. Around this time, students everywhere in North America would spend their class time watching a documentary or video that played clips of the planes and explosions, and interviews of the victims’ families. In these retellings, it was repetitively in the same ‘master narrative’ that we commonly see it as; a terror attack on the civilized Western world and the hub of New York City from Islam extremists.

This novel, or novella, can be described as a dramatic monologue where the protagonist, Changez is the only character that the author has scripted to speak in the book. Changez speaks to himself, like a monologue, but the reader is also a character who acts as the listener for Changez’ ‘self’ conversation. From this particular style, I was briefly reminded to the likeness of a theatre play or drama that features many dramatic monologues, like Shakespearean plays. The protagonist would speak to themselves, conveying the story to the reader, who is synonymous to the American character in this story. “I observe, sir, that there continues to be something about our waiter that puts you ill at ease.” (108)
In this writing style, the story was not only conveyed to me that encourages sympathy for Changez and his experience, but it forces the reader to take on the perspective of the American character who undoubtedly has suspicions against Changez and the environment that they are in. To further discontentment, Changez tells of his true emotions during the aftermath of the 9/11, as his “[…]initial reaction was to be remarkably pleased.” (72) As the reader, I felt conflicted myself, just as Changez felt conflicted about his identity and belonging in America. Was Changez simply a young man who felt betrayed by the country he loved or was he an evil man to be now seen as an enemy?

There are symbolic names that are very significant in Changez’ life, specifically in the names of his lover and the company that he was employed with. Why did the author choose the name Erica, that had such a spelling resemblance to America, and Underwood Samson that held the initials identical to the United States? I noticed the resemblance between the names and the America/United States near the end of the novel as Changez made a final decision to return home to Pakistan. Both the woman he was in love with and the company represented the bittersweet relationship with himself and the country he had shaped his young adult life in. During his time with Erica, it started out as the perfect romantic scenario, before it surely devolves into something that no longer desires for the ‘immigrant dream’ that Changez embodied. This was similar to his relationship with the company that he established himself with before the shifting attitudes as a result of 9/11 ultimately factored to his undesirable status in America.

This novel speaks to the normally underlying tones of the ‘culture of fear’ that surrounds modern, post 9/11 America, and does so from the counter-narrative of the story as one the Western society does not hear. From my own experience with the near religious dedication to memorials and remembrance to ‘fight the enemy’ in the wake of 9/11, The Reluctant Fundamentalist provided an alternate perspective for me that proves that in the understanding of both master and counter-narratives, the line between good and evil is still indefinitely blurred.

Thank you for reading, until next time.