This is one of the rare instances—if not the singular instance—where I've generally enjoyed a book, except for its protagonist, Vega.
Starting off with the positives, there are a lot of really great discussions about social issues from a pretty contemporary and intersectional perspective. In particular, I found the examination of downward social mobility through immigration to be interesting, because while Vega can be an immigrant and struggling graduate student in the States, this doesn't erase her upbringing as a wealthy and privileged upper-caste girl in India. I also liked the conversations around theoretical vs. practical solutions to the systemic inequities in the world, since it reflects a lot of the discourse we see today about the ideal way to provide aid or address disparities and whether or not our actions are leading to more harm or if inaction itself is the more dangerous option. As a whole, Sundar represents a diversity of immigrant experiences. Most of the characters in the novel come from the "Global South," and Sundar takes care to draw distinctions and highlight the differences of the many cultures and histories that are often stereotyped as homogenous due to belonging to geographical regions that have been taken advantage of or looked down upon by the North. Even among the immigrants from India, I appreciated how Sundar highlights that assimilation is very much a spectrum, with each immigrant holding their own unique mixture of values from various cultures. On a personal level, the sense of community among the many people in Vega's life reminded me a lot of the way I was brought up and my own family's first few years after immigrating to North America, and if nothing else, Habitations is an ode to the villages that support us in surviving life.
Despite Habitations' many solid strengths, Vega has to be one of the most insufferable and grating protagonists I've ever had the misfortune to come across. She's insanely hypocritical, adopting a "holier than thou" attitude when judging others for "thinking too small" all while being discontent with her own life and unable to dream bigger, making herself miserable and more importantly, making ME miserable. She's also just incredibly nasty for no reason and will make these damning snap judgments of people she barely knows, then completely writing them out of her life. She's picks fights and flies into anger over tiny comments and minor inconveniences. Basically, she's a huge bitch! Vega would probably call me a woman-hater for using the term "bitch" and she'd be right because she sure is a woman I hate. All Vega does is take and take, giving nothing but her shitty attitude in return. I understand she's experienced trauma and loss but no shit, so have millions of other people in the world but if everyone acted like that, we'd all just be duking it out on the street. Also, the first thoughts Vega ever has about anyone, especially men, are related to the presence or absence of her physical attraction to them and any real conversation about her past is cut off by sex. At first, I had read a lot of these thoughts and interactions as a response to the unresolved trauma from her history of sexual assault, but the fact that this behavior persists unchanged and without reflection or questioning up until the end of the novel makes me interpret otherwise. I'm all for sex positivity, especially among women of color, but someone needs to call Sundar and tell her that acting like the female version of Murakami is NOT going to win us liberation.
Beyond Vega, I found certain plot points to be predictable, unnecessary, or just wholly unrealistic. At the risk of sounding like an elitist asshole, I really struggle to believe that anyone would be able to land a tenure-track professorship at LSU, in sociology of all disciplines, at the ripe age of like 30 and before even graduating their PhD program. Also, what was the point of mentioning 9/11, only to discuss it for 5 pages and then act like there were no ramifications? Either commit or cut it out! We do not strive for mediocrity! It's also really ironic that while I found this book to have strong social commentary, the actual parts of the book focused on Vega's academic career in sociology felt extremely heavy-handed and stilted. I'm begging Sudar to stop name-dropping references; I, too, can run a Google Scholar search. There was also some kind of weird shade toward The God of Small Things but only one of these two books has a Booker and it sure isn't Habitations. More minor grievances I have include the reveal of Ashwini's diagnosis, which I felt was so silly given the amount of lead-up and all the hints at her disease progression because the clinical picture just seemed really incongruent. It's like Sundar just picked the first rare and fatal congenital disease she could find and called it a day. There were also small contradictions here and there, like how Sundar will sometimes introduce minor characters twice if there's a long span of distance between their two appearances, almost like she forgot she already introduced them. And because I always have complaints about how books are publicized, I feel like the highlighting of single motherhood in the blurb is almost disrespectful given how much help Vega has throughout the book, especially after her daughter is born and raised by an entire village, in all senses of the phrase. Like Vega is actually never alone or without options, and she basically never comes across a truly bad person. If anything, she's the worst person in this book.
Despite my ranting, I do think Habitations is worth the read, especially if you're driven by spite because Vega will inspire a lot of that.