Monthly Archives: March 2016

Hello readers!

I can hardly believe that we have already reached the time for our last ASTU blog post, so I wanted to take a quick look back at our year. One of the most prominent themes of our class this year was trauma. We read a wide array of what one could call ‘trauma narratives’ that explored the social, personal, cultural, and political factors that traumatic events can have on individuals and communities. For instance, going back to first term, we started with “Persepolis” and explored Marjane’s disheartening upbringing during the Iranian revolution. Then, in “Safe Area Gorazde”, we saw the impacts of the Bosnian War through the eyes of an American journalist. In “Obasan”, we witnessed Naomi’s destructive past that caused poignant impacts to her adult perspective. We read about the deep rooted repercussions that a veteran’s PTSD had on his daily interactions in the short story “Redeployment”. And our past two texts, “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close”, and “The Reluctant Fundamentalist”, we witnessed the growth of two very different characters in post 9/11 America.

Although the theme of trauma becomes at times extremely heavy and heart wrenching, it is evident that through trauma comes great literature. Not only can trauma narratives provide solace for authors, but they can also give readers a deeper understanding of the human experiences behind the facts and dates of traumatic world events. The traumas experienced by the characters we read about differed immensely in terms of their time frame, scale, and location. However, I think it is safe to say that the characters held the same overarching sentiments of fear and vulnerability. In most cases, this fear was a result of the creation of some sort of social divide. Whether it was the attack on the World Trade Centre, or the construction of Japanese internment camps, the characters we read about were living through trauma created from society’s development of the ‘Other’. After reflecting back, I now see a sort of irony in these trauma narratives: they were based from the establishment of various social oppositions while simultaneously being unified through the raw human emotions felt by the characters. Reading the texts, it didn’t matter where in the world the character lived or what ethnicity they were because we could always relate to their human emotions. In fact, I think the human perspectives in our texts were even more powerful than the various traumas that they were describing.

The impacts of social divides is an idea that we have come back to time and time again throughout all of our courses in the Global Citizens stream. It is also one that is, unfortunately, very relevant to recent current events, such as the bombings in Brussels just a couple of days ago. Traumatic events and attacks such as these are perhaps not easily preventable; however, I believe that literary texts (as well as other forms of self-expression, such as art and poetry) that come out them are necessary in order to voice the emotions and experiences behind such difficult issues. Above all, I think trauma narratives succeed in connecting individuals to form the universal solidarity that today’s world is in desperate need of.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for the great year!

Harnoor

Hello readers,

This week in class we have started to explore Mohsin Hamid’s ‘The Reluctant Fundamentalist’, which tells the story of a Pakistani immigrant named Changez on his journey in America. One of the most striking aspects of this novel for me was the narrative structure. From the beginning, Changez entices readers by setting up a unique framework where he participates in a largely one-sided conversation with a mysterious American. Although at this point the reader has virtually no knowledge on the motives of Changez or the American, the nature of the conversation still manages to instill suspicion into the reader. This ambiguous fear sets the tone for the rest of the novel as we’re not exactly sure who Changez may identify as, or if he may be fabricating his whole story. This underlying fear that perpetuates for the entirety of the novel is why ‘The Reluctant Fundamentalist’ has been classified as a ‘thriller’. However, Hamid’s perspective challenges this classification. He says,”many people have said it feels like a thriller. The reason for that is we are already afraid.”

For me, Hamid’s response captured some unsettling realities of American-Muslim relations after 9/11. Why are we afraid reading along with Changez’s narrative? Is it because we as readers have preconceived notions about Changez, who is a Pakistani immigrant who has vocalized his frustrations with the U.S.? Or is it because we are feeding off of the discomfort that the American seems to be having? I think the ambiguous nature between the Changez’s and the American’s transaction symbolizes the ambiguous suspicious that Islamophobia, or even terrorism, is based around. Hamid offers no concrete evidence that either character wishes to commit an act of violence, but based on  few snippets of the conversation that seem to imply a certain message, the tension between the two of them becomes palpable. Hamid’s decision to leave the reader at cliffhanger could symbolize the uncertainty of future Muslim-American relations, and also allows the reader to reflect on what they think happens next. One of the many possible explanations is that Changez has been plotting to kill the American the entire time. I don’t know whether this is the ‘right’ conclusion, but I think its wrong to label Changez as a terrorist. I think one of the things that Hamid’s novel demonstrates is that it is possible for Middle-Eastern or muslim people to develop frustration or contempt about America without it having anything to do with terrorism or religious radicalism. Unfortunately, this is a negative stereotype that exists in America’s culture, media and reputation as a country. This stereotype could have been one of the factors that drove Changez away from America, and could also represent the effects that racial profiling has on real life Pakistani-American immigrants. All in all, I think classifying ‘The Reluctant Fundamentalist’ as a thriller lies completely in the feelings of the reader. But Hamid’s response urges us to question the reasons why we may feel unsettled while reading Changez’s story.

Thanks for reading and let me know whether you would classify TRF as a thriller!

Harnoor