One morning in May 2003, on the cyclone-ravaged island of Rodrigues in the Indian Ocean, the body of a man washes up on the beach. Six weeks previously, the night Tropical Cyclone Kalunde first gathered force, destruction of another kind hit twenty-six-year-old Genie Lallan and her life in after a night out with her brother she wakes up in hospital to discover that he's disappeared. Where has Paul gone and why did he abandon her at the club where she collapsed? Genie's search for him leads her to Rodrigues, sister island to Mauritius - their island of origin, and for Paul, the only place he has ever felt at home. Will Genie track Paul down? And what will she find if she does? An imaginative reworking of the French 18th century classic, 'Paul et Virginie', set in London, Mauritius and Rodrigues, Genie and Paul is an utterly original love the story of a sister's love for a lost brother, and the story of his love for an island that has never really existed.
A vibrant postcolonial response to Paul et Virginie (1788), the classic novel by Jacques-Henri Bernardin de Saint-Pierre. Soobramanien takes up Saint-Pierre’s themes of wildness and loss of Edenic innocence in her contemporary story of Genie Lallan and her half-brother Paul, who, with their mother, left Mauritius for London 21 years ago. Like Paul et Virginie, Genie and Paul opens at a ruined hut on a tropical beach in the aftermath of a destructive cyclone, and meanders backward in time to discover the family history behind it.
(Full review in Wasafiri literary magazine, Volume 29, Issue 1.)
If I had to liken this novel to anything it would be a snowball in motion. The story starts rolling on a seemingly gentle slope with two episodes; in the aftermath of a cyclone a young boy's new friend washes up on a distant shore. Six weeks prior, Genie awakes in a London hospital, abandoned by her brother. Natasha Soobramanien then slowly increases the incline as the tale of the titular siblings unfurls to its dramatic conclusion.
This is a unique book, something that made me love it all the more. In a loose reworking of Bernardin de Saint Pierre's Paul et Virginie, Genie and Paul are siblings struggling to reconcile love, identity and family against their shared, but different, backgrounds.
Soobramanien is a fantastic talent and I loved the simplicity of both her prose and the messages at the heart of this book. Genie's unconditional love for her brother sees her travelling across continents, forgiving him beyond expectations. Meanwhile, Paul seeks out the land of his childhood memories, a land that has changed to the point of no longer existing outside Paul's recollection, and sets off on a doom-riddled road to fulfil his quest. Along the way we meet a range of characters who provide their perspectives in short chapters that almost felt like police evidence statements. This worked brilliantly in moving on the story, particularly in Genie's sections, as I felt like I was gathering the clues with her and finding out the story as she did.
Although this book straddles locations (Mauritius, Rodrigues and London), awareness of any of these places is not necessary to enjoy this book. Themes of family and identity, of love and loss, are unquestionably universal and Soobramanien is masterful in creating a raw tale which not only made me think but saw me scrabbling back through my Kindle to re-read and re-capture the best bits. The prologue is definitely worth a read after the final page as your impression will completely change. Easy to read with beautiful turns of phrase, I know this book will stay with me for some time.
I couldn't tell if this was a modern retelling of an old classic or if the literary references to Jacques-Henri Bernardin's Paul et Virginie were just part of the book's narrative. I've never read the latter so it may indeed be a remodelling which adds depth to an otherwise simplistic storyline. It is a novel about desperate displaced persons trying to 'find themselves': through relationships, through alcohol, through narcotics, through going back to their original home; their 'roots' - expecting to find answers & an end to their perpetual confusion & misery. Most of the book was a little hard to follow but the final chapter contains many beautiful paragraphs; full of pathos and resonant imagery. It's worth the slog just for those few precious moments.
I really enjoyed reading this during a period of change in my life because that's what the story is about: the constantly changing dynamics between people, and yet, how relationships at their core remain the same whether between siblings, parents, or to one's own country/identity.
The book's ability to put you in the shoes of either of the titular siblings is really well-developed, as well as its depiction of a vastly different world between London and Mauritius/Rodrigues. I did find the character of Paul to be more fleshed out and interesting than Genie, who is a more reactive protagonist, while Paul made things happen. I was interested in this because as a protagonist he's actually rather unlikeable and his actions can be questionable at time.
The only aspect I'm not sure of is the ending - it is definitely metaphorical, and probably needs to be read in relationship to the original "Paul et Virginie," but there are also clear allusions to what happened, if not exactly how. It's just too vague to leave the gut-punch it felt like the author was going for. In any case, the journey is definitely worth getting there. Recommended.
Natasha Soobramanien was the winner of the Bridport Prize’s short story category in 2009. Genie and Paul, billed as an ‘imaginative reworking of the French 18th century classic, Paul et Virginie by Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, is her debut novel.
Genie and Paul opens in March 2003 with the aftermath of a tropical cyclone, Kalunde, which ‘peaked to a Category Five in the middle of the Indian Ocean’. Genie Lallan, one of the book’s protagonists, is introduced as ‘a twenty-six-year-old part-time postgraduate student in housing studies’ is being rushed into hospital as the cyclone ravages island after island. Her life, at first, runs parallel with the disaster.
After waking up several days later, Genie goes to stay with her mother, sleeping in her old bedroom whose walls were painted in ‘a flaky pink like dried calamine lotion’. She soon realises that her brother Paul, who was with her on the night she was admitted to hospital, has disappeared, stripping his boyhood room of its possessions and fleeing, leaving no clue of where he has gone. ‘But it was not just Paul who was missing,’ she muses. ‘Half of that night had disappeared too’.
The Lallan family, originally from Mauritius, moved to London to stay with the children’s grandparents when ‘Genie was five and Paul ten’. There are many disparities between the siblings almost from the outset of the novel. Genie is placid whilst ‘skinny, surly’ Paul is angry, frustrated at being moved halfway across the world. There are also differences in the ways in which they have been integrated into their new lives in England. Genie feels she belongs in London – ‘I don’t feel I was ever really there. I remember hardly any of it. No, it’s not my country at all. This [England] is’ - whereas her brother does not: ‘Ever since we came to London, I’ve been yearning to come back [to Mauritius]’. This sense of belonging and the struggle to find it is realised sensitively by Soobramanien.
Foreshadowings of events are cleverly written about – why the Lallan family left Genie’s father, the whereabouts of Genie and Paul’s half brother, Jean-Marie, and where Paul has disappeared to, amongst others. The reader is aware of sad, serious and sinister events almost from the outset of the novel, but these events only gradually reveal themselves.
Soobramanien’s character descriptions are perceptive and have been rather originally shaped. Genie and Paul as children view their grandfather as ‘gradually flaking away. His skin was grey-brown, dusty with a light white scurf like the bloom on old chocolate’, and one of Paul’s friends is perceived as ‘a smudged charcoal sketch of a man’. The reader is drip-fed information about the characters and gradually learn about them as the story unfolds.
Although the characters themselves are relatively well developed, it sometimes feels a little difficult to empathise with them. This distancing may be due to the third person perspective which the author has made use of. First person perspectives have been used in several of the shorter chapters, where other characters describe their pasts and where they think Paul may have fled to. Such chapters are written from the points of view of Paul and Genie’s mother and his ex-girlfriend Eloise, amongst others. Whilst the split narrative technique works in Genie and Paul, the first person narrative voices used are rather similar to one another.
The prose style throughout does not adhere to conventions and no apostrophes have been used to denote dialogue between characters. Phrases in Mauritian Creole have been included throughout, along with their translations. This is a nice touch which culturally grounds the book. Soobramanien’s language choices work well, particularly when she is describing the squalor around her protagonists. She illustrates how it feels ‘to sit out in the unkind light and the cold and the sour smell of the river, surrounded by wasteland and tower blocks’ and to see ‘the rows of hooded homeless mummified in their sleeping bags, heads bent monk-like in the warm morning rain’.
Genie and Paul does not use a chronological narrative technique. Instead, chapters flit around in time and we are often thrust from the children’s early past into the present day and back again within the space of just three chapters. Some of the narrative details do feel a little repetitive at times, merely due to the way in which different characters utter the same phrases. Whilst the narrative perspective differs somewhat, Genie and Paul has rather a similar feel to it as Mister Pip by Lloyd Jones. The characters within both novels – Paul et Virginie and Great Expectations respectively - are incredibly fond of the book which the retelling they are featured in denotes, and it is clear that both authors are also enamoured with the stories which they have reworked.
This is an unusual and unique first novel, about love, that of a sister for her (half) brother, and of her brother's love for his homeland of Mauritius. The story begins on the night that Tropical Cyclone Kalunde battered the islands in the Indian Ocean, and when Genie woke up in hospital in London, having lost a night of her life, and her brother.
The story is told in three sections: Genie's story, her search for her beloved brother; Paul's story, his search for somewhere he finally feels at home; and the small final section entitled Genie and Paul, where they arrive together on the tiny island of Rodrigues, sister island of Mauritius. The first two sections flit about in time, jumping backwards and forwards as a picture is built up of their lives and the events that have shaped them, and the final section brings them together as it draws the reader to its poignant ending.
The writing is superb, very descriptive with a keen sense of place and this was probably my favourite aspect of the novel. Her characters are beautifully crafted and vividly imagined. At times I found some of the storyline slightly slow, but this is a novel that demands attention and care in reading, not least for the unique punctuation style. Overall is deserves a 4 for the beautiful writing and its uniqueness, and would appeal to those who love novels about souls searching and a sense of displacement.
An important book on diaspora, language and the country left behind. Natasha has the power of description, bringing to life the Mauritian landscape in the exact same terms of her personal observations. This book bears no mimicry of Ananda Devi's Mauritius, and in lying juxtaposition,exposes the latter as fraud. Devi's Mauritius, it seems to me, is a spin-off product of too much pessimism, too much Manichaeism, and less reality. Natasha finds a happy medium, in which glee and pathos are allowed to exist alongside without evoking in her readership any kind of redundancy or sense of confected reality, for that matter. Genie and Paul is an example of post-colonial Mauritius, devoid of the pretence of assumed dereliction, destitution, and greyness. The weed culture,occasional prostitution, and the vulgarity of the native language are not censored; they appear bluntly, full-out, but more out of the need for fluid portraiture than for primping up the narrative- to coat it with flavours that in the conventional outsider view of the island has come to be viewed as 'the norm.' This is what makes this book deeply authentic and resonant. Find some time, read it, if not for the story but for her portrayal of Mauritius!
Genie and Paul is beautifully written. Set between London and Mauritius, the visual descriptions of the sky, continuously place the reader in the characters emotional landscape. The story of Genie and Paul is sad and troubled and their sibling relationship is pulled apart by Paul and his quest to belong.
There is a fluid sense of romance in the storytelling of each character. The romantic way they remember their life and circumstances, at times was a little similar and confused the point of view of the story. But maybe that was the point, all the characters were one; Mauritius.
The repetition of 'tell me' is a comforting technique the author uses to introduce a change in narrator. It works especially by omitting the use of speech marks. All the characters are one and there is a definite flow to the story. I love the structure, the pictures and the clear titles for each chapter. It is a story for anyone who wants to read eloquent prose set within a political cyclone.
'Genie and Paul' is a contemporary interpretation of the 18th century classic French tale of 'Paul et Virginie', set in London, the island of Mauritius and a sister island - Rodrigues.
Genie wakes up in hospital in London to find that her brother Paul has gone missing. She retraces his steps to find out where he has gone, and the narrative retraces his life through the accounts of the other characters implicated in his story, to find out why he might have run away. It is beautifully written and woven together with a very moving sense of loss and displacement that anyone who has had to leave their childhood home would recognise. It is also saturated in a gritty realism and despair that feels very contemporary though. The umbilical cord that links our individual identity to a cultural identity is the truth that resonates after the book comes to its powerful and lyrical conclusion.
A book about Mauritius. Sometimes choosing a book is like collecting postage stamps: you see a book and think, "I've never read anything from that country, I wonder what it's like there." From the description in the book, Mauritius is one more ocean island slum/ghetto living off tourists where people are just waiting to die. The basic story of someone caught between two worlds and not really belonging to either never really catches fire and I was mostly unmoved. So now I can cross Mauritius off my list but this cultural voyage left me on the tarmac.
A truly wonderful novel, which actually brought me to tears. A rare feat! Certainly the best brother and sister tale I have ever read. London was brought to life in ways I haven't come across before. The parts set in Mauritius and Rodrigues were brilliantly written.
If a book proves not to be the book one hoped it would be, then any disappointment may lie not with the author but with the reader. That is the case with Genie and Paul, which I had hoped would be a retelling of a much-loved Mauritian tale. It is true that is what the author offers but this brother and sister transplanted from Mauritius to London in the 1980's and '90's find themselves in an environment of squats and drugs that failed to engage this reader.
That admitted, it is only fair to say that Natasha Soobrmanien writes very well, and tackles an episodic structure that jumps forward and backward in time with great confidence. A sympathetic reader will probably be drawn to know what happens next. I"m sorry it didn't prove to be my kind of book.
I thought the two chapters that Soobramanien wrote in Luke Williams's Echo Chamber were the best part of that book, demonstrating an ability to write authentically from a place deep within her characters. That ability is the strongest element of this book too, she inhabits the lives of the title characters, a half brother and sister whose troubled and tragic life the book retells. Ultimately the story is not as interesting or compelling as the writing, but the book is certainly a promising debut.
This was a wonderful surprise.The plot line is written in a matter of fact and realistic way yet it has all the lushness and romanticism of a nineteenth century novel. It's set in contemporary London and Mauritius which gives both places a kind of dark glamor that's appealing and slightly scary. It also contains "sub stories" within the main body of the novel, some of which are almost sketches for future novels. Very accomplished and beautifully done.
This is a book that shows the darkest, bleakest side of Mauritius - far from the blue beaches and golden sea that occupy the tourist imagination. It is well-written and the story is sadly credible. I can't say I enjoyed it though because the story is bleak, and sad. This is not a reflection on the story or the writing but on the characters and their lives.
A very compelling read; There are a lot of thought-provoking issues and brilliant foreshadowed moments that I found played on my mind long after I finished the novel.