Hey Readers,
This weekend I began reading Mohsin Hamid’s novel, The Reluctant Fundamentalist, for my ASTU class. Now, I’m only about halfway through the novel or so, but I thought I’d jot down my initial thoughts at this point in time.
The narrator, Changez, is telling his story to a nameless American, who we haven’t heard speak yet—any indication of the American’s character depth is narrated by Changez. Therefore, we are subject to Changez’s interpretations and conclusions he makes about the American. It is important for readers to understand that he could be wrong. However, the same could be said if the roles were reversed. This scenario is more prevalent in the novel. Hamid begins his novel with the narrator saying, “Do not be frightened by my beard: I am a lover of America” (Hamid 1). Changez, on multiple occasions, goes out of his way to correct the mistaken stereotypes the American has about Changez as a Pakistani.
As a stylistic choice, it is quite interesting that the author chose to format the novel in this way. Yet, choosing to format the novel in this way is actually beneficial for Hamid’s purposes, in order to portray the erroneous assumptions we make. As Sam, one of my classmates, said today in lecture, the “We” in novels is typically one of a Western construct. In The Reluctant Fundamentalist, Hamid purposefully plays on this, warping the way readers think and understand Pakistanis. It forces readers to confront this reality: our (Western) cultural perceptions and viewpoints are not necessarily infallible, or always correct in another cultural context.
Another observation I made when reading this novel is whenever Changez is giving an explanation to the American in present day, he always connects it to an American cultural reference. This way, the American will better be able to understand the situation because it is laid out to him in a context he is able to comprehend. One instance of this is when discussing the matter of whether or not Changez drinks alcohol. He does; and upon the American’s confusion, he explains, “In truth, many Pakistanis drink; alcohol’s illegality in our country has roughly the same effect as marijuana’s in yours” (53). This systematically proves two functions for Changez: the first is to make the American understand Pakistani tradition by situating him in an American context. The second is to illustrate Changez’s notable understanding of American politics and tradition. He lived there for four and a half years after all; Changez learned a great many things while he was there. This may lead the American to view Changez as less of a Pakistani and more of an American with every cultural reference uttered.
These are just a few of my many swarming thoughts about this novel. I still have many questions: Why is Changez telling this story to the American? What led Changez to move back to Pakistan? Does he consider himself more of an American or more of a Pakistani while residing in New York? What factors spurred his “pleased” reaction to the terrorist acts of September 11th, 2001? (Hamid 73).
If I want to find the answers to my questions, I better keep reading!
Until next time, Readers!
-Kendall Manifould