Koul memoirs her divorce after marrying her then-husband for a year through a series of essays. She hints at how he, with fits of fury, shrinks her world to his needs and desires. In her final chapter, Kali Starts a Fire, she reveals his infidelity, a secret she obfuscates in previous chapters. Additionally, she covers topics like growing up in Canada as a child of immigrants from India, her relationship with her parents, her mother’s battle against breast cancer, journalist work, dating, friendship, bulimia, and sexual assault. In the chapter, A Close Read, Koul offers a follow-up to A Good Egg, a “30-page essay previously published about the worst thing that ever happened to [her].” In its initial form, she squeezed her encounter with “Jeff” into a palatable narrative, outlining devastation’s shape; here, she plunges the depths.
She brings wit and earnestness to her writing as she shares about her divorce as an Indian Canadian living and working in New York. Occasionally, she intertwines snippets from her divorce and the goddesses Pavarti and Kali’s stories. Although she and her nuclear family are occasionally religious, her inclusion of the Hindu Parthenon offered a unique take on marriage and divorce. She welcomes readers into her world with particular ease as she introduces her parents, whom she describes vividly, including their imperfections and love for her. Koul’s essay on body image is splendid.
I thought three things could have been improved in this 2.5-star read.
(1) The essays flow and generally build on each other, but sometimes she mentions an idea or theme, and it isn’t clear why. For example, Koul periodically brings up her childhood neighbor, Lana, and aside from the first interaction early on in the book, it always feels strange. If Lana functions as an important figure in Koul’s childhood psyche—maybe the white girl with strict parents whose marriage would eventually dissolve—it is not made clear enough to me. I understand Koul’s desire (and maybe legal ability) to share more about her decision to divorce. But the details still feel too murky for a divorce memoir.
(2) Koul never addresses why she avoids dating brown men; she comes close once when she dismissively says iykyk (I’m paraphrasing). As a person of color, she addresses her then-husband as being white, adding a problematic power dynamic to their relationship. Oddly enough, after her divorce, it seems like she continues exclusively dating white men, almost always including their height (yes, over 6 feet). This tired me. The one BIPOC she dates that gets an honorable mention is Caribbean. She appreciates not having to explain to him why she needs to take care of her aging mom battling cancer. Again, I thought this was too simplistic to draw the similarity between the middle of America and Southeast Asia. I’m not saying there isn’t overlap in the cultures’ high regard for parents that’s different from “white American’s” culture. But, in addition to the stretch (Caribbean to Indian culture), this generalization of white people in America also felt like a stretch.
(3) I hoped Koul nuanced her arguments even more. The chapter, Lolita, Later, stands out as an example. N.B. I should note upfront that I haven���t studied Lolita, so I can’t speak to the literary devices, themes, or authorial intent. In Koul’s essay, she frames Dolores Haze as wielding power within her relationship with Humbert. The similitude between Lolita’s power (with H.H.’s pedophilia) and Koul’s power (with her husband, 13 years her senior) is the men’s “infantile fixation” because they “are worse off for it”; thus, “I have power.” Suppose Koul wants to make this argument (which I don’t think works logically because gender, socio-economic status, age, and ethnicity add to the nature of power dynamics in relationships). In that case, it seems like the added layer of H.H.’s predatory seduction isn’t properly accounted for. If it is, then the logical move to make this comparison makes even less sense. From the info given, Koul’s 20 years old when she and her future husband got involved. The age gap is not lost to me, but that’s different than asserting, “No one believes me when I tell them that I had power in all of my relationships because of how much younger I was.”
I don’t expect Koul to ever read this review. If she does, I just want to say that I respect her reporting work and courage to share about divorcing her husband. I would love to buy her a drink at Civil Liberties if the opportunity ever allows.