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The Body Myth
Mira is a teacher living in the heart of Suryam, a modern bustling in city India, and the only place in the world the fickle Rasagura fruit grows. Mira lives alone, and with only the French existentialists as companions, until the day she witnesses a beautiful woman having a seizure in the park. Mira runs to help her but is cautious, for she could have sworn the woman looked around to see if anyone was watching right before the seizure began.
Mira is quickly drawn into the lives of this mysterious woman Sara, who suffers a myriad of unexplained illnesses, and her kind, intensely supportive husband Rahil, striking up intimate, volatile and fragile friendships with each of them that quickly become something more. A moving exploration of loss, Mukherjee delivers an intense and unexpected modern love story as Mira reconciles reality with desire.
Mira is quickly drawn into the lives of this mysterious woman Sara, who suffers a myriad of unexplained illnesses, and her kind, intensely supportive husband Rahil, striking up intimate, volatile and fragile friendships with each of them that quickly become something more. A moving exploration of loss, Mukherjee delivers an intense and unexpected modern love story as Mira reconciles reality with desire.
234 pages, Paperback
First published February 26, 2019
18 people are currently reading
2082 people want to read
About the author
Rheea Mukherjee
5 books67 followersRheea Mukherjee's work has been featured in Scroll.in, Huffington Post, Chicago Review Of Books, Electric Literature, Southern Humanities Review, Cleaver Magazine, Out of Print, and Bengal Lights, among others.
Her debut novel The Body Myth is forthcoming in the U.S (February 2019) by Unnamed Press. Her previous fiction has been nominated for a Pushcart and was a semi-finalist for the Black Lawrence Press award. She co-founded Bangalore Writers Workshop in 2012 and currently co-runs Write Leela Write, a Design and Content Laboratory in Bangalore. Rheea Holds an MFA from California College of the Arts. She is represented by Stacy Testa from Writers House.
www.rheeamukherjee.com
Pre-Order THE BODY MYTH: https://www.amazon.com/Body-Myth-Rhee...
TRANSIT FOR BEGINNERS: Wide:https://kitaabstore.arcadier.io/User/...
Her debut novel The Body Myth is forthcoming in the U.S (February 2019) by Unnamed Press. Her previous fiction has been nominated for a Pushcart and was a semi-finalist for the Black Lawrence Press award. She co-founded Bangalore Writers Workshop in 2012 and currently co-runs Write Leela Write, a Design and Content Laboratory in Bangalore. Rheea Holds an MFA from California College of the Arts. She is represented by Stacy Testa from Writers House.
www.rheeamukherjee.com
Pre-Order THE BODY MYTH: https://www.amazon.com/Body-Myth-Rhee...
TRANSIT FOR BEGINNERS: Wide:https://kitaabstore.arcadier.io/User/...
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 122 reviews
April 15, 2019
I finished reading The Body Myth by Rheea Mukherjee few days back and have since been trying to write an honest review for the same. But frankly, this book has me divided in my opinion. While starting with this work, we are advised by the author, or cautioned if you prefer, to take the story as one would take a large pill and rightly so.
The writer’s style is impressive and you can’t help but falling in love with it so much so that the book becomes unputdownable. You start reading and the characters become so vivid that you can almost visualize them, envisaging in your mind the scenes and the dialogues as you read along.
The book starts with Mira, who comes across a married couple Sara and Rahil in a public park and feels drawn to them. She witnesses Sara’s seizure and doubts whether it is real or faked but still feels attracted to the couple. Mira’s husband had died some nine months back and she had stayed at an institution trying to cope with her situation. When asked by Sara how she survived that, she reflects:
“Emotional pain can be so severe, so profound, so soul braking, that it must reflect on the body. But I couldn’t seem to find my scars when I stood in front of the mirror. Perhaps they disguised themselves, moving across my skin like a flea on a cat.”
When we suffer enormous emotional pain, there comes a point when the body functions become almost mechanical, the mind wants to free itself, of pain, of suffering, but a constant feeling of nagging remains, like something hammering constantly at the back of your mind.
She tells the reader:
“You might think it was teaching that saved me from the blunt darkness that comes with the loss of a spouse. It was not. I almost committed suicide, true, but it was Camus, Sartre, Foucault and de Beauvoir who led me back to life.”
Later, she thinks it is the idea of futility of “our perceptions of existence, our grand ideas of hope and reality”, the futility of treating life like it has some greater purpose than getting along the humdrum of our daily lives, that saved her. She had finally come to a point where she found grief bothersome and longed for a kind of normalcy to return to her life.
It is Sara’s suffering that pulls Mira to her. Sara has a mental illness and it reminds Mira more of her late mother, a mother who was a victim of depression and whose memories are at best a blur in her life. I could sense Mira’s pain and could see why she might have been attracted to Sara, who also seemed to be in pain.
I would leave it to you to discover how their meetings turn more intimate and how gradually a poly-amorous relationship is developed. The central premise of the book seems to be the transformation of a dyadic relationship (Sara and Rahil) to triadic relationship as narrated by the third partner and protagonist of the work, Mira. It is about the acceptance of each other as a partner, an acceptance that finally comes as result of a conflict between the body and the mind.
This book does not place itself as a narrative to educate people about polyamory. It just explores a triad relationship with Mira, Sara and Rahil as partners, portraying the dilemmas that they go through, their actions and their coming to peace with their reality, which might not necessarily align with the readers’ ideas.
At certain places, the book is uncomfortable to read because it evokes questions that we might not find easy to answer. Questions like:
Do we know our bodies well? Does our body, in any way at any time, act differently than what our minds ask it to do? Are our minds aware of what our bodies need or desire? Does our mind always follow what our bodies dictate or do they feel conflicted between desires and the accepted ideas of morality?
However, it is not a commentary on the same. Neither does it offer any answers.
Now I would like you to read the rest of the review keeping the above said questions in your mind. To keep in mind that the protagonists perhaps were only trying to understand themselves better, by being aware to the needs of both their minds and bodies so that they could reach a harmony.
The relationship is kept a secret from everybody, even from Mira’s father, throughout the length of the novel. One can understand this because polyamory is considered a taboo subject in most societies. Mira is shown to be very close to his father, discussing almost everything with him. So towards the end, when Mira takes Rahil (her supposedly live in partner as told to her father) to meet her father, she introduces Sara and Rahil as siblings. When I reached this point, something snapped inside me. Not that I can be a judge of human relationships and am as intrigued about the dynamics and mysteriousness of poly-amorous relationships, but I failed to view their coming together as natural. First, it was the downright lie that bothered me, and then their further and more relaxed meetings with her father. Maybe, it was just this dishonesty that got to me. Why did Mira do that really?
The other thing, which did not sit down well with me, was Mira and Rahil’s apparent devotion towards Sara, Mira’s regard of Sara as some kind of Sufi mystique, her idea that both she and Sara shared some purpose in life. Their conversations didn’t seem as elevating as Mira’s own musings at times, which I enjoyed reading.
Sara’s illness is supposedly self-imposed, and Rahil already knows that. Mira makes them realize this and help them come to terms with their lives. Still, her almost saccharine allegiance to Sara in the knowledge of that felt too unrealistic, their idea of a normal, happy life together, bit infantile. Besides, since we don’t hear much from Rahil, we have least idea about his love for Mira.
When reflecting upon her conversations and interaction with one of her students, Mira’s thoughts are a delight to read, barring one incident towards end, which to say honestly, really shocked me. But I guess it did shock Mira too. I just wondered about the need of inclusion of that specific incident in the narrative.
Towards the end, their relationship reaches a conclusion in Sara’s departure from Mira and Rahil’s life. It is as if the epicenter of their lives shifts from illness/grief to tranquillity with each of the partners finally reaching an imperative juncture in life. In a sense, the author makes the relationship dyadic again, to provide a kind of closure to the story by confirming to established societal order.
This work might be an uncomfortable read but it certainly is indelible and is bound to leave a mark upon the mind of the reader.
PS: I initially rated three stars to the work but upon reflection, I realized I liked it much better.
The writer’s style is impressive and you can’t help but falling in love with it so much so that the book becomes unputdownable. You start reading and the characters become so vivid that you can almost visualize them, envisaging in your mind the scenes and the dialogues as you read along.
The book starts with Mira, who comes across a married couple Sara and Rahil in a public park and feels drawn to them. She witnesses Sara’s seizure and doubts whether it is real or faked but still feels attracted to the couple. Mira’s husband had died some nine months back and she had stayed at an institution trying to cope with her situation. When asked by Sara how she survived that, she reflects:
“Emotional pain can be so severe, so profound, so soul braking, that it must reflect on the body. But I couldn’t seem to find my scars when I stood in front of the mirror. Perhaps they disguised themselves, moving across my skin like a flea on a cat.”
When we suffer enormous emotional pain, there comes a point when the body functions become almost mechanical, the mind wants to free itself, of pain, of suffering, but a constant feeling of nagging remains, like something hammering constantly at the back of your mind.
She tells the reader:
“You might think it was teaching that saved me from the blunt darkness that comes with the loss of a spouse. It was not. I almost committed suicide, true, but it was Camus, Sartre, Foucault and de Beauvoir who led me back to life.”
Later, she thinks it is the idea of futility of “our perceptions of existence, our grand ideas of hope and reality”, the futility of treating life like it has some greater purpose than getting along the humdrum of our daily lives, that saved her. She had finally come to a point where she found grief bothersome and longed for a kind of normalcy to return to her life.
It is Sara’s suffering that pulls Mira to her. Sara has a mental illness and it reminds Mira more of her late mother, a mother who was a victim of depression and whose memories are at best a blur in her life. I could sense Mira’s pain and could see why she might have been attracted to Sara, who also seemed to be in pain.
I would leave it to you to discover how their meetings turn more intimate and how gradually a poly-amorous relationship is developed. The central premise of the book seems to be the transformation of a dyadic relationship (Sara and Rahil) to triadic relationship as narrated by the third partner and protagonist of the work, Mira. It is about the acceptance of each other as a partner, an acceptance that finally comes as result of a conflict between the body and the mind.
This book does not place itself as a narrative to educate people about polyamory. It just explores a triad relationship with Mira, Sara and Rahil as partners, portraying the dilemmas that they go through, their actions and their coming to peace with their reality, which might not necessarily align with the readers’ ideas.
At certain places, the book is uncomfortable to read because it evokes questions that we might not find easy to answer. Questions like:
Do we know our bodies well? Does our body, in any way at any time, act differently than what our minds ask it to do? Are our minds aware of what our bodies need or desire? Does our mind always follow what our bodies dictate or do they feel conflicted between desires and the accepted ideas of morality?
However, it is not a commentary on the same. Neither does it offer any answers.
Now I would like you to read the rest of the review keeping the above said questions in your mind. To keep in mind that the protagonists perhaps were only trying to understand themselves better, by being aware to the needs of both their minds and bodies so that they could reach a harmony.
The relationship is kept a secret from everybody, even from Mira’s father, throughout the length of the novel. One can understand this because polyamory is considered a taboo subject in most societies. Mira is shown to be very close to his father, discussing almost everything with him. So towards the end, when Mira takes Rahil (her supposedly live in partner as told to her father) to meet her father, she introduces Sara and Rahil as siblings. When I reached this point, something snapped inside me. Not that I can be a judge of human relationships and am as intrigued about the dynamics and mysteriousness of poly-amorous relationships, but I failed to view their coming together as natural. First, it was the downright lie that bothered me, and then their further and more relaxed meetings with her father. Maybe, it was just this dishonesty that got to me. Why did Mira do that really?
The other thing, which did not sit down well with me, was Mira and Rahil’s apparent devotion towards Sara, Mira’s regard of Sara as some kind of Sufi mystique, her idea that both she and Sara shared some purpose in life. Their conversations didn’t seem as elevating as Mira’s own musings at times, which I enjoyed reading.
Sara’s illness is supposedly self-imposed, and Rahil already knows that. Mira makes them realize this and help them come to terms with their lives. Still, her almost saccharine allegiance to Sara in the knowledge of that felt too unrealistic, their idea of a normal, happy life together, bit infantile. Besides, since we don’t hear much from Rahil, we have least idea about his love for Mira.
When reflecting upon her conversations and interaction with one of her students, Mira’s thoughts are a delight to read, barring one incident towards end, which to say honestly, really shocked me. But I guess it did shock Mira too. I just wondered about the need of inclusion of that specific incident in the narrative.
Towards the end, their relationship reaches a conclusion in Sara’s departure from Mira and Rahil’s life. It is as if the epicenter of their lives shifts from illness/grief to tranquillity with each of the partners finally reaching an imperative juncture in life. In a sense, the author makes the relationship dyadic again, to provide a kind of closure to the story by confirming to established societal order.
This work might be an uncomfortable read but it certainly is indelible and is bound to leave a mark upon the mind of the reader.
PS: I initially rated three stars to the work but upon reflection, I realized I liked it much better.
January 17, 2020
Readers know what it feels like to get hooked - pulled into a novel immediately.
We literally swallow the beginning of “The Body Myth”.
Here’s how it begins...
“Take my story like you would a large pill. Place it on your tongue and swallow it in one gulp. I intend to write the truth. Truth is perspective, and I have been scrupulous with mine”.
So, yes.... I was hooked from the start. I took my pill, gulped it down with water and continued to be ‘yanked’ into the wonderful make-believe city-Suryam, in India, with it’s make-believe fruit, (Rasagura: tastes like a soaked berry, bursting with the tang of a lemon, and the texture of pudding and the sweetness of mango”), and three main characters: Mira, Sara, and Rahil.
There are many ways to share about this book... it’s plot, it’s characters, the metaphors, the philosophers and authors mentioned, marriage, love, loss, death, sickness, (physical and mental), the body/mind connection, the power of grief, of healing, of parenting, (their great gifts and great disappointments), of friendship, tea, food, sex, polyamorous and monogamous relationships.
Since this is a book that can be read in one, two, or three sittings....
one that is quite intriguing, mysteriously strange, yet somehow easily understood ( on a surface level anyway)....
rather than mention the heart of the plot —- or the give away personality profiles about the characters- their personal inquiry into life....I’m going to share a side dish....
But aren’t side dishes often equally or more delicious than the main course?
The next part of this review is about a minor character, A FATHER, ... who moved me....
who had a lot of influence on his daughter, Mira’s life.
I enjoyed when Mira shared about her dad.
Because I didn’t grow up with a father, I cherish reading about adult kids reminiscing about their fathers who have contributed to them immensely.
I’m sooooo intrigued and interested to listen to my adult women friends share about ‘their-fathers’.....(many of my women Goodreads-friends have shared phenomenal stories about their father’s that have move me to tears).
Mira shares about hers:
Mira and her ( now deceased husband), Ketan, used to “send Mira’s father, Appa, twenty thousand rupees every month, not because he needed it because it was a responsible thing to do, but he refused to keep the money for himself. Instead Appa had put the money in a savings fund for Ketan and me to break into every 20 years, when our future children would go to college”.
Mira shared how her father was a practical man. He was proud of his self-care for diabetics— a walking campaign for the golden 60s, (or 65 being the new 40), he had given up white rice, meat, and sweets.(ha....my mind was twirling with judging and evaluating my less inspiring diet).....
Mira knew that when her father talked about nutrition it was his way of expressing love. He also taught her the value of daily routines and predictability: wake up at 6 AM, walk the park for an hour, read the paper on the bench for another hour, his cook made him breakfast at 8:30 AM ( I want a cook).... ha!
He played cards with his buddies in the afternoon, and he volunteered as a head of the community in this area… Coming up with new ways to separate garbage and feed stray dogs.
Yep.. dinner at 8:30 PM, took another night stroll, then strolled the Internet, then off to bed and asleep by 10:30 PM. He didn’t live extravagantly and he had enough money to last him for decades.
Appa also taught Mira her about the world wars.
She also remembered listening from a distance when her father would read to her mother in bed, usually non-fiction, about history.
I know that this novel is not about Mira’s father.... but what the heck… Sometimes we read little side things in books that resonate, speak to us, and challenge us to ask ourselves questions,
such as....”What’s stopping me from making healthier choices, reading more history books, (educating myself more), and from making a bigger difference in the world?”
In Mira’s case - it was memories about her dad, the way he was with her and the way he was with her mother that gave her many of the same feelings that she saw in Rahil and Sara. ( the married couple she becomes entangled with).
Mira woke up early herself, each day, like like all teachers. ( like her father did)
She adopted many of the same healthy regimented routines that her dad had done.....
.....then tragically her husband of only seven months is killed....
.....Mira’s life moves in a direction that she could not have seen coming in a million years....when she first meets Sara, who was having a seizure in a park.
This book DOES HOLD YOUR ATTENTION....DOES PULL YOU IN....
It’s also a little odd, weird, and unconventional....
Sara has a mysterious illness...
Mira is finding her way....attracted to both Sara and Rahil.
Mukherjee examines a range of subjects and themes: body & mind ( healthy and unhealthy/physically and mentally),philosophy, history, literature, sexuality, history, poetry, religion, mysticism....
Lots of PARTS are wonderful....
As a WHOLE....it has a few: holes!
....but.....overall - even though the deeper depths didn’t translate clearly powerfully—
......( I still don’t get the significance of the fruit, really)....this book is a yummy treat with a cup of chamomile tea.
Hint: lots of tea drinking going on inside these pages.
Also....as a debut ... it’s GREAT... not PERFECTLY GREAT.....but Rheea Mukherjee is an author I’ll gladly read again!
We literally swallow the beginning of “The Body Myth”.
Here’s how it begins...
“Take my story like you would a large pill. Place it on your tongue and swallow it in one gulp. I intend to write the truth. Truth is perspective, and I have been scrupulous with mine”.
So, yes.... I was hooked from the start. I took my pill, gulped it down with water and continued to be ‘yanked’ into the wonderful make-believe city-Suryam, in India, with it’s make-believe fruit, (Rasagura: tastes like a soaked berry, bursting with the tang of a lemon, and the texture of pudding and the sweetness of mango”), and three main characters: Mira, Sara, and Rahil.
There are many ways to share about this book... it’s plot, it’s characters, the metaphors, the philosophers and authors mentioned, marriage, love, loss, death, sickness, (physical and mental), the body/mind connection, the power of grief, of healing, of parenting, (their great gifts and great disappointments), of friendship, tea, food, sex, polyamorous and monogamous relationships.
Since this is a book that can be read in one, two, or three sittings....
one that is quite intriguing, mysteriously strange, yet somehow easily understood ( on a surface level anyway)....
rather than mention the heart of the plot —- or the give away personality profiles about the characters- their personal inquiry into life....I’m going to share a side dish....
But aren’t side dishes often equally or more delicious than the main course?
The next part of this review is about a minor character, A FATHER, ... who moved me....
who had a lot of influence on his daughter, Mira’s life.
I enjoyed when Mira shared about her dad.
Because I didn’t grow up with a father, I cherish reading about adult kids reminiscing about their fathers who have contributed to them immensely.
I’m sooooo intrigued and interested to listen to my adult women friends share about ‘their-fathers’.....(many of my women Goodreads-friends have shared phenomenal stories about their father’s that have move me to tears).
Mira shares about hers:
Mira and her ( now deceased husband), Ketan, used to “send Mira’s father, Appa, twenty thousand rupees every month, not because he needed it because it was a responsible thing to do, but he refused to keep the money for himself. Instead Appa had put the money in a savings fund for Ketan and me to break into every 20 years, when our future children would go to college”.
Mira shared how her father was a practical man. He was proud of his self-care for diabetics— a walking campaign for the golden 60s, (or 65 being the new 40), he had given up white rice, meat, and sweets.(ha....my mind was twirling with judging and evaluating my less inspiring diet).....
Mira knew that when her father talked about nutrition it was his way of expressing love. He also taught her the value of daily routines and predictability: wake up at 6 AM, walk the park for an hour, read the paper on the bench for another hour, his cook made him breakfast at 8:30 AM ( I want a cook).... ha!
He played cards with his buddies in the afternoon, and he volunteered as a head of the community in this area… Coming up with new ways to separate garbage and feed stray dogs.
Yep.. dinner at 8:30 PM, took another night stroll, then strolled the Internet, then off to bed and asleep by 10:30 PM. He didn’t live extravagantly and he had enough money to last him for decades.
Appa also taught Mira her about the world wars.
She also remembered listening from a distance when her father would read to her mother in bed, usually non-fiction, about history.
I know that this novel is not about Mira’s father.... but what the heck… Sometimes we read little side things in books that resonate, speak to us, and challenge us to ask ourselves questions,
such as....”What’s stopping me from making healthier choices, reading more history books, (educating myself more), and from making a bigger difference in the world?”
In Mira’s case - it was memories about her dad, the way he was with her and the way he was with her mother that gave her many of the same feelings that she saw in Rahil and Sara. ( the married couple she becomes entangled with).
Mira woke up early herself, each day, like like all teachers. ( like her father did)
She adopted many of the same healthy regimented routines that her dad had done.....
.....then tragically her husband of only seven months is killed....
.....Mira’s life moves in a direction that she could not have seen coming in a million years....when she first meets Sara, who was having a seizure in a park.
This book DOES HOLD YOUR ATTENTION....DOES PULL YOU IN....
It’s also a little odd, weird, and unconventional....
Sara has a mysterious illness...
Mira is finding her way....attracted to both Sara and Rahil.
Mukherjee examines a range of subjects and themes: body & mind ( healthy and unhealthy/physically and mentally),philosophy, history, literature, sexuality, history, poetry, religion, mysticism....
Lots of PARTS are wonderful....
As a WHOLE....it has a few: holes!
....but.....overall - even though the deeper depths didn’t translate clearly powerfully—
......( I still don’t get the significance of the fruit, really)....this book is a yummy treat with a cup of chamomile tea.
Hint: lots of tea drinking going on inside these pages.
Also....as a debut ... it’s GREAT... not PERFECTLY GREAT.....but Rheea Mukherjee is an author I’ll gladly read again!
December 24, 2020
The plot is a mess.
But it pulled me in successfully in this mess with its engaging writing style.
The characters are too messed up.
Their lives so messed up that there's no coming back out of this tangled mess.
This read is an adult contemporary dealing with adult relationships, grief and mental health, lgbt, Munchausen Syndrome.
These issues have been handled well in the sense that the characters and the situations they were involved in were realistic but also these issues haven't been handled well when things get a bit abrupt and insensitive in between.
I simply don't want to understand these kind of adult relationships in which the secrecy of these is almost equal to infidelity.
*What I liked most:
The stimulative writing style dealing with these complicated-realistic characters who are adults not actually figuring out life completely (as is always is!)
The various relationships (from the past as well as the present) an adult has to deal with have been portrayed with honesty.
The whole story is dark, twisted and complicated.
I got high with the interweaving memories and the present narration mixed with both sweetness and bitterness.
I liked the first half of the book for all its madness and sadness.
The second half was a bit dull and it tried to explain all the mess that happened in the first half.
It's at this later part of the book that the characters seemed to take things too easy and they start seeming too pretentious.
I would like to say the second half was a bit haphazard and random and too abrupt with the ending.
It didn't end well at all.
It looked so rushed up and a big hole was left just like that the whole time and then it was like after discussing about this big hole, this hole was there never to be taken seriously.
The whole mess wasn't handled well at all in the end.
It would have been still alright if this mess ended up a whole lot messier or better but the ending was really disappointing.
*What I felt were the weakest parts:
The whole story tried to explain so much about Munchausen Syndrome but it was not handled well at all and it got wrapped up like it didn't matter at all in the end.
Abrupt introduction of random characters who didn't matter much disrupted the flow.
The characters seem too tired to feel or do anything most of the time (well, it's relatable but sometimes it feels like the characters didn't want to be in the story).
But I will be looking forward to more books by the author. I just love how she writes!
*Not recommended.
But it pulled me in successfully in this mess with its engaging writing style.
The characters are too messed up.
Their lives so messed up that there's no coming back out of this tangled mess.
This read is an adult contemporary dealing with adult relationships, grief and mental health, lgbt, Munchausen Syndrome.
These issues have been handled well in the sense that the characters and the situations they were involved in were realistic but also these issues haven't been handled well when things get a bit abrupt and insensitive in between.
I simply don't want to understand these kind of adult relationships in which the secrecy of these is almost equal to infidelity.
*What I liked most:
The stimulative writing style dealing with these complicated-realistic characters who are adults not actually figuring out life completely (as is always is!)
The various relationships (from the past as well as the present) an adult has to deal with have been portrayed with honesty.
The whole story is dark, twisted and complicated.
I got high with the interweaving memories and the present narration mixed with both sweetness and bitterness.
I liked the first half of the book for all its madness and sadness.
The second half was a bit dull and it tried to explain all the mess that happened in the first half.
It's at this later part of the book that the characters seemed to take things too easy and they start seeming too pretentious.
I would like to say the second half was a bit haphazard and random and too abrupt with the ending.
It didn't end well at all.
It looked so rushed up and a big hole was left just like that the whole time and then it was like after discussing about this big hole, this hole was there never to be taken seriously.
The whole mess wasn't handled well at all in the end.
It would have been still alright if this mess ended up a whole lot messier or better but the ending was really disappointing.
*What I felt were the weakest parts:
The whole story tried to explain so much about Munchausen Syndrome but it was not handled well at all and it got wrapped up like it didn't matter at all in the end.
Abrupt introduction of random characters who didn't matter much disrupted the flow.
The characters seem too tired to feel or do anything most of the time (well, it's relatable but sometimes it feels like the characters didn't want to be in the story).
But I will be looking forward to more books by the author. I just love how she writes!
*Not recommended.
August 28, 2021
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One word: Weird. And not necessarily a good kind of weird.
This short novel strikes me as being confused: it doesn't know what it wants to be.
Somehow it seemed that this novel was less than the sum of its parts.
I was intrigued by the opening chapter, which throws us immediately in this midst of this not-quite-love triangle. Our narrator Mira is a recently widowed English teacher. After a brief stint in a hospital, Mira is quite content to live by herself, unwilling to form meaningful connections, let alone seek a new husband.
Enter Sara and Rahil. Mira comes across the couple after she sees Sara having a seizure in a park. After they invite her to their house Mira becomes entranced by the couple. Beautiful Sara suffers from a long list of mysterious ailments, and Rahil dotes after her.
Yet, Mira immediately suspects that Sara might not be as ill as she claims to be, or that perhaps Rahil is behind Sara's illness.
I enjoyed Mira's cynic narrative. At times, I did find that her actions were at odds with her inner monologue. She seemed two different people. Around Sara and Rahil she acts in such a wimpish way. I found her commentary on love, marriage, and teaching, deeply entertaining and in comparison her so-called 'complex feelings' for Sara and Rahil were...not that complex? I never quite understood her fascination with Sara or her relationship with Rahil. Sara seemed more 'object' than person, and yet the narrative implies that she is a deeply profound and thoughtful woman.
There are a lot of quotable scenes or monologues but the writing did seem to try too hard to come across as sardonic, so much so that, other than the occasional 'ha-ha' or 'that sounds clever', I experienced very little while reading this.
What could have been an intriguing tale of passion and jealousy delivers a lukewarm and predictable depiction of the typical 'love' triangle (and in this case the love seems...underbaked? Not quite believable? Not at all there?!) Mira talked a lot but felt things in a monotone sort of way. Her jealousy and lust, even her relationship toward her father and her job, were all just underwhelming and flat. In her narration she presents herself as this intelligent and deep individual but 'telling' isn't enough. I saw little of this inner depth and of these complicated feelings she harbours for this married couple. She is just so passive, in spite of those occasional sharp observations.
The story seemed to promise more than what it actually is. Sara and Rahil are so lifeless. Sara's love for Sufi music didn't make her interesting or layered. Rahil spoke few words, and acted in such a vague manner that I had a hard time believing in his character.
The whole ending seemed at odds with the beginning. What was all that for? A few well written paragraphs do not distract from a hazy and poorly constructed story.
“Perhaps they had done this before. Perhaps somewhere in this house were the remains of a broken heart, another widow who fell for their charms only to have her spirit shattered.”
One word: Weird. And not necessarily a good kind of weird.
This short novel strikes me as being confused: it doesn't know what it wants to be.
Somehow it seemed that this novel was less than the sum of its parts.
“We didn't possess the exact same background to grid our foundation, but we were similar enough to dance to the tune of happy urban complacency.”
I was intrigued by the opening chapter, which throws us immediately in this midst of this not-quite-love triangle. Our narrator Mira is a recently widowed English teacher. After a brief stint in a hospital, Mira is quite content to live by herself, unwilling to form meaningful connections, let alone seek a new husband.
“If I'd lived in the Victorian era, I would have been dismissed as a fragile woman who suffered from hysteria because her husband just died. Or if I had lived a century before in my own country, my depression would have been glorified, needed, and aggressively presented to society as that of an ideal grieving wife. Had the words clinical depression empowered me? I couldn't remember.”
Enter Sara and Rahil. Mira comes across the couple after she sees Sara having a seizure in a park. After they invite her to their house Mira becomes entranced by the couple. Beautiful Sara suffers from a long list of mysterious ailments, and Rahil dotes after her.
Yet, Mira immediately suspects that Sara might not be as ill as she claims to be, or that perhaps Rahil is behind Sara's illness.
“She had listed off her diagnoses with a building pride, which unsettled me but compelled me to believe her, to believe that there was something very wrong with Sara, something even science couldn't account for.”
I enjoyed Mira's cynic narrative. At times, I did find that her actions were at odds with her inner monologue. She seemed two different people. Around Sara and Rahil she acts in such a wimpish way. I found her commentary on love, marriage, and teaching, deeply entertaining and in comparison her so-called 'complex feelings' for Sara and Rahil were...not that complex? I never quite understood her fascination with Sara or her relationship with Rahil. Sara seemed more 'object' than person, and yet the narrative implies that she is a deeply profound and thoughtful woman.
There are a lot of quotable scenes or monologues but the writing did seem to try too hard to come across as sardonic, so much so that, other than the occasional 'ha-ha' or 'that sounds clever', I experienced very little while reading this.
“Although I will say, contemporary Indian English fiction is shit, and India has yet to create its first Kafka.”
What could have been an intriguing tale of passion and jealousy delivers a lukewarm and predictable depiction of the typical 'love' triangle (and in this case the love seems...underbaked? Not quite believable? Not at all there?!) Mira talked a lot but felt things in a monotone sort of way. Her jealousy and lust, even her relationship toward her father and her job, were all just underwhelming and flat. In her narration she presents herself as this intelligent and deep individual but 'telling' isn't enough. I saw little of this inner depth and of these complicated feelings she harbours for this married couple. She is just so passive, in spite of those occasional sharp observations.
The story seemed to promise more than what it actually is. Sara and Rahil are so lifeless. Sara's love for Sufi music didn't make her interesting or layered. Rahil spoke few words, and acted in such a vague manner that I had a hard time believing in his character.
The whole ending seemed at odds with the beginning. What was all that for? A few well written paragraphs do not distract from a hazy and poorly constructed story.
July 17, 2019
Imagine a privileged woman who has read a few philosophers, sits in fancy cafes with a Macbook to write a book, tom-toms every single person she meets with serious sounding pseudo-intellectual garbage completely out of context, and claims to have a point of view, half-baked though, on every single thing - from World War to Existentialism to Mental Illness to Sufism to Threesome. That's the author of this book for you. Or at least, that's the image I have formed in my head of her after reading this sorry of a book.
Rheea, the author, tells an extremely weird story of three people falling in love with each other to the point of obsession. I have no qualms with the premise. In fact, it's a pretty interesting one and it would have been an amazing vehicle to look at the inner workings of the minds and emotions of the characters involved. But no. She decides to use these (and other) characters purely as vehicles to display her half-formed ideas and beliefs that sound intellectual but are pointless and absurd (No Rheea, you're not Beckett. I said 'absurd' in the literal sense). The dialogues are extremely unrealistic as if the characters have been forced in front of a camera to blurt out meaningless sentences with high sounding terms and names. And to top it all, she invents a fruit - Rasagura - that grows only in this fictional town, again with a philosophical objective but falls flat on the face. Plop.
I feel sad for the characters. I wanted them to be more than mere puppets to a pretentious writer. Strongly NOT recommended. And for the author - grow up.
Rheea, the author, tells an extremely weird story of three people falling in love with each other to the point of obsession. I have no qualms with the premise. In fact, it's a pretty interesting one and it would have been an amazing vehicle to look at the inner workings of the minds and emotions of the characters involved. But no. She decides to use these (and other) characters purely as vehicles to display her half-formed ideas and beliefs that sound intellectual but are pointless and absurd (No Rheea, you're not Beckett. I said 'absurd' in the literal sense). The dialogues are extremely unrealistic as if the characters have been forced in front of a camera to blurt out meaningless sentences with high sounding terms and names. And to top it all, she invents a fruit - Rasagura - that grows only in this fictional town, again with a philosophical objective but falls flat on the face. Plop.
I feel sad for the characters. I wanted them to be more than mere puppets to a pretentious writer. Strongly NOT recommended. And for the author - grow up.
July 19, 2019
The philosophy-quoting, polyamory-ok Mira (the narrator) dazzles us with her dalliances, deliberations, segues, insights. Mira's irreverent idiom reminds us of narrators created by Carmen Maria Machado and Otessa Moshfegh. It feels strange, then, that the resolution that the novel provides Mira prioritizes happiness at the cost of philosophical inquiry and locates that happiness in society-ok monogamy.
___
A brief note on rasagura, the imaginary fruit that only grows in and around the imaginary city of the novel
As a symbol (not a prop) atop an explicitly imaginary plane (Suryam) in a work that is otherwise realist, the rasagura is bound to confuse readers. In the beginning, its role is to complete Suryam quickly (for, otherwise, the construction of an imaginary place would have required more effort). In a way, we are told that the rasagura exists because there is Suryam. This gives Suryam some purpose, however arbitrary. What, however, is nested behind this accessible logic is something that our minds don't easily agree to have accommodated: that Suryam exists because there is the rasagura. It is this circularity that completes either imaginary construction, in a way that nothing more is needed. By describing a fruit, Mukherjee bypasses the onerous task of building a city. Rasagura is a symbol for the imaginariness of Suryam, but before that, it is its counterweight.
___
A brief note on rasagura, the imaginary fruit that only grows in and around the imaginary city of the novel
As a symbol (not a prop) atop an explicitly imaginary plane (Suryam) in a work that is otherwise realist, the rasagura is bound to confuse readers. In the beginning, its role is to complete Suryam quickly (for, otherwise, the construction of an imaginary place would have required more effort). In a way, we are told that the rasagura exists because there is Suryam. This gives Suryam some purpose, however arbitrary. What, however, is nested behind this accessible logic is something that our minds don't easily agree to have accommodated: that Suryam exists because there is the rasagura. It is this circularity that completes either imaginary construction, in a way that nothing more is needed. By describing a fruit, Mukherjee bypasses the onerous task of building a city. Rasagura is a symbol for the imaginariness of Suryam, but before that, it is its counterweight.
February 10, 2020
Very unusual book . I read it with the laptop handy because I have limited knowledge of Indian apparel and cuisine . That was an education and I plan to make a pod-like desert once I find a new source of raw milk for cheese-making . I learned about Sufi music and was able to listen to some via You Tube , but it won't replace 1963-75 rock in my heart . I was familiar with some of the spiritual and mystical aspects .
February 3, 2019
(@unnamedpress #partner)
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sitting here, having just finished this book, i know i have a lot to process. from the start, this story grabbed me with the same intensity that Mira was grabbed by Sara and Rahil. there were moments where i found myself as enthralled by their sickly sultry life, despite knowing how potentially toxic and maladaptive it was. for a moment you question, wait, am I Mira? this book will draw you in to the story and have you questioning how you feel throughout its unraveling.
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i valued the various elements of diversity within this book, as well. whether it be diversity of culture, relationships, or approach to medicine/medical system, i loved the varying perspectives towards each. the writing weaves in such a lovely, philosophical perspective, sometimes while even discussing philosophers. overall, i feel impressed by the writing, the story, and the overall experience of this soon to be released novel.
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so grateful to @unnamedpress for sending this one my way. this has set a great tone for start of the year fiction, and i couldn’t be happier about it.
.
4/5 ⭐️
.
sitting here, having just finished this book, i know i have a lot to process. from the start, this story grabbed me with the same intensity that Mira was grabbed by Sara and Rahil. there were moments where i found myself as enthralled by their sickly sultry life, despite knowing how potentially toxic and maladaptive it was. for a moment you question, wait, am I Mira? this book will draw you in to the story and have you questioning how you feel throughout its unraveling.
.
i valued the various elements of diversity within this book, as well. whether it be diversity of culture, relationships, or approach to medicine/medical system, i loved the varying perspectives towards each. the writing weaves in such a lovely, philosophical perspective, sometimes while even discussing philosophers. overall, i feel impressed by the writing, the story, and the overall experience of this soon to be released novel.
.
so grateful to @unnamedpress for sending this one my way. this has set a great tone for start of the year fiction, and i couldn’t be happier about it.
.
4/5 ⭐️
February 22, 2020
This whole book feels like one big vibe check, so basically it was wild. Full review available here!
June 25, 2019
I just finished Rheea Mukherjee’s novel, The Body Myth, and it’s SO GOOD. It’s a focused and yet somehow encompassing story that invokes all the senses. The characters are multi-dimensional, and the plot is full of tension AND manages to dip into backstory AND luxuriate in the moment. It’s short, but doesn’t sacrifice plot, character, or lyricism. Gorgeous.
March 2, 2019
It took me all of 17 hours to finish Rheea Mukherjee's unputdownable book, The Body Myth. It was my last book of 2018, and I am happy that it turned out to be that way because I ended my year on a rather high note. The Body Myth is primarily the story of three characters Mira, Sara, and Rahil. Mira, a widow, is grieving the loss of her husband and trying to find her place in the world when she encounters Sara and Rahil. Sara, who suffers from a strange ailment that is as physical as it is psychological, is mysterious and attractive. Mira finds herself drawn to towards her and her supportive husband Rahil, so much so that the three end up forming a one of a kind relationship. And then the book explores the dynamics the three share as they navigate through their lives and the challenges of being together, dealing with their personal messes, and Sara's ever-present illnesses that make their dynamics tender, vulnerable, and fraught with a palpable tension that always keeps you, the reader, on the edge.
Mukherjee does a great job at pacing the novel and giving us honest, interesting, and engaging characters that are so-often irksome, I often found myself irritated at their flakiness. But it's also what made them real. Mukherjee offers a meditative insight not just into the minds of the characters but through them, gives us many spiritual and philosophical meanderings that you will carry with yourself much after you are done with the book.
The book deals with polyamorous relationships sensitively, without shying away from the conflicts such relationships would present in an overtly monogamous world. The book deconstructs the body through the motif of illnesses, dealing with the subject of mental health with maturity and finesse. It doesn't separate the mind from the body but creates a world where each organ, each body part has a mind of its own. The body, that is at the very center of this book, is the storehouse of all traumas, and through it are all key events shaped. As someone who is deeply invested in the politics of the body, and always fascinated by all that ails it, this book was a delicious concoction of all things I love.
Mukherjee sets this book in the fictional city of Suryam, which feels similar to any other Indian city. And this decision to create a fictional world was something I couldn't quite comprehend. If there was a reason behind it, I couldn't get it, or it wasn't done well. Another element of the book which I thought could have worked as a great metaphor for the uniqueness of Sara's character, the fictional fruit of Rasagura, doesn't bring much to the story, remains unripened, to use a tired fruit metaphor. The book loses some pace towards the end, but by then you are way too invested in the story to give it up. And if you are like me, you will end up questioning some of the motivations behind the way Rahil's character sees a dynamic shift. It is a risky choice the author makes and could go in any direction--it didn't work for me, but it could work for you.
These are small issues but, and they don't take away much from the book. This is Mukherjee's debut novel and a damn fine one. She is one of the most engaging and honest voices that I have come across in Indian English writing. And most certainly an author to watch out for. It might be too early to say such things, but this is one of the most interesting books to come out this year. Do yourselves a favour, and get a copy now.
Mukherjee does a great job at pacing the novel and giving us honest, interesting, and engaging characters that are so-often irksome, I often found myself irritated at their flakiness. But it's also what made them real. Mukherjee offers a meditative insight not just into the minds of the characters but through them, gives us many spiritual and philosophical meanderings that you will carry with yourself much after you are done with the book.
The book deals with polyamorous relationships sensitively, without shying away from the conflicts such relationships would present in an overtly monogamous world. The book deconstructs the body through the motif of illnesses, dealing with the subject of mental health with maturity and finesse. It doesn't separate the mind from the body but creates a world where each organ, each body part has a mind of its own. The body, that is at the very center of this book, is the storehouse of all traumas, and through it are all key events shaped. As someone who is deeply invested in the politics of the body, and always fascinated by all that ails it, this book was a delicious concoction of all things I love.
Mukherjee sets this book in the fictional city of Suryam, which feels similar to any other Indian city. And this decision to create a fictional world was something I couldn't quite comprehend. If there was a reason behind it, I couldn't get it, or it wasn't done well. Another element of the book which I thought could have worked as a great metaphor for the uniqueness of Sara's character, the fictional fruit of Rasagura, doesn't bring much to the story, remains unripened, to use a tired fruit metaphor. The book loses some pace towards the end, but by then you are way too invested in the story to give it up. And if you are like me, you will end up questioning some of the motivations behind the way Rahil's character sees a dynamic shift. It is a risky choice the author makes and could go in any direction--it didn't work for me, but it could work for you.
These are small issues but, and they don't take away much from the book. This is Mukherjee's debut novel and a damn fine one. She is one of the most engaging and honest voices that I have come across in Indian English writing. And most certainly an author to watch out for. It might be too early to say such things, but this is one of the most interesting books to come out this year. Do yourselves a favour, and get a copy now.
March 1, 2019
The protagonist, Mira, is a lot like that one friend in your circle with the tragic past. Everyone likes to speculate about her romantic liaisons behind her back, but very few people truly know anything about her life.
One can imagine that since her husband's untimely death, she has withdrawn from her past groups of friends in favor of intermittent communication with one intimate confidant.
You, the reader, are that confidant. You get to hear her side of the story outside of rumour, unkind remarks, and salacious whispers.
This story takes place in India, in a modern city called Suryam, only home of the endemic prized Rasagura fruit. Nevertheless, anyone who has experienced living in a close knit culture — a culture that valorizes family and the sanctity of marriage, that is uncomfortable with talking about loss and grieving, and that views widowhood and singledom with equal parts pity and suspicion— will relate to Mira's life here.
As a reader-confidant, I found the story happened in such real time and demanded so much of me that I had to pace the book, and come back to it like a phone call to a friend at the end of each day. By the middle of the book, I was enthralled by and exasperated with Mira. I found I genuinely cared about her happy ending, whatever she defined that to be.
If you're the kind to devour a book in one sitting, this experience might feel like an all-night sleepover session listening to the riveting and often disturbing confessions of a long lost bestie.
I started the book curious about the taste of the unknown exotic Rasagura, but stayed for its addictive growing familiarity. Once you taste this book, you will have to see it through to the end. Be warned that it may not be a feeling that you are comfortable with, expect to encounter, or leave the book with.
(I count myself lucky to have read an ARC from the author herself. Looking forward to buying a copy whenever it is published in India!)
One can imagine that since her husband's untimely death, she has withdrawn from her past groups of friends in favor of intermittent communication with one intimate confidant.
You, the reader, are that confidant. You get to hear her side of the story outside of rumour, unkind remarks, and salacious whispers.
This story takes place in India, in a modern city called Suryam, only home of the endemic prized Rasagura fruit. Nevertheless, anyone who has experienced living in a close knit culture — a culture that valorizes family and the sanctity of marriage, that is uncomfortable with talking about loss and grieving, and that views widowhood and singledom with equal parts pity and suspicion— will relate to Mira's life here.
As a reader-confidant, I found the story happened in such real time and demanded so much of me that I had to pace the book, and come back to it like a phone call to a friend at the end of each day. By the middle of the book, I was enthralled by and exasperated with Mira. I found I genuinely cared about her happy ending, whatever she defined that to be.
If you're the kind to devour a book in one sitting, this experience might feel like an all-night sleepover session listening to the riveting and often disturbing confessions of a long lost bestie.
I started the book curious about the taste of the unknown exotic Rasagura, but stayed for its addictive growing familiarity. Once you taste this book, you will have to see it through to the end. Be warned that it may not be a feeling that you are comfortable with, expect to encounter, or leave the book with.
(I count myself lucky to have read an ARC from the author herself. Looking forward to buying a copy whenever it is published in India!)
March 19, 2021
I am a bit confused after reading this book. On one hand, I want to applaud the author for not mentioning even once the dirty gutters and stinking poverty that Indian authors revel in. This is a bold book on modern Indian relationships - polyamory in particular - hidden, covert, but as I know, very much there in our society.
On the other hand, I felt a bit shortchanged - everything happened too fast, too much on the surface, and I felt disconnected with certain events that didn’t seem to add to the story. Perhaps, there needn’t have been this whole mental health angle to it. The relationships would have sufficed, given the wildly swinging depths that Mukherjee takes us through.
Interesting. Provocative. Intense. And a bit undone.
On the other hand, I felt a bit shortchanged - everything happened too fast, too much on the surface, and I felt disconnected with certain events that didn’t seem to add to the story. Perhaps, there needn’t have been this whole mental health angle to it. The relationships would have sufficed, given the wildly swinging depths that Mukherjee takes us through.
Interesting. Provocative. Intense. And a bit undone.
October 28, 2020
The Body Myth by Rhea Mukherjee
Genre: fiction.
My rating: 2.5/5
What I liked about the book
1. Good, engaging writing especially the first half.
2. The almost interesting polygamous throuple.
What I didn't like about the book
1. The pseudo intellectualism- Fine, Mira is very well read. But she isn't shown to be making smart choices. She's tormented by her own mind. She almost never has any clarity.
How is the reader suppose to deduce her intelligence? From the random philosophy thrown in?
2. The romanticism of mental illness. Sara has a an apparent 'serious' mental illness. And it comes and goes as the narrative deems fit. This is a very convenient plot device. Or Sara's mother who had 'chosen to be sad'. I don't believe that's how depression works.
3. The love-story itself. What could have been an amazing avenue for us to experience a polyamorous relationship is thrown off balance by the overkill of Rumi-ism. Using Rumi doesn't necessary make a love story 'complicated'. And then the existentialism. Not implied, just stated. Their on-again-off-again love-story gets very predictable. Leading to an even more predictable ending.
4. Characterization or lack thereof. I enjoyed reading this from Mira's POV. Sara's character is messy but is still OK. Even Sara's mom. It had a very 'Sharp Objects' vibe to it.
Rahil is a lost cause. I felt like I saw the relationship only through the women. The man was reduced to a third wheel.
5. The randomness of the writing. The writer builds up almost nicely and throws you off by saying the most random things.
Sample these.
'Not head and shoulders healthy, but still, it was nice hair.'
'My Anxiety diminished before my butt hit the chair.'
I couldn't gather what the significance was with the story taking place in a fictional town which has a fictional fruit either.
This was especially frustrating because it came with such high recommendations.
Ultimately, it felt like the writer chewed more than she could digest. I get it. Mira, Sara and Rahil are supposed to be deeply flawed and messy characters. Which ultimately comes off as confused and twisted. Their relationship is supposed to be toxic but what's toxic is that they eventually ended up drinking black coffee with sugar. And those are the kind of people I wouldn't want to be around.
Not worth the hype.
Genre: fiction.
My rating: 2.5/5
What I liked about the book
1. Good, engaging writing especially the first half.
2. The almost interesting polygamous throuple.
What I didn't like about the book
1. The pseudo intellectualism- Fine, Mira is very well read. But she isn't shown to be making smart choices. She's tormented by her own mind. She almost never has any clarity.
How is the reader suppose to deduce her intelligence? From the random philosophy thrown in?
2. The romanticism of mental illness. Sara has a an apparent 'serious' mental illness. And it comes and goes as the narrative deems fit. This is a very convenient plot device. Or Sara's mother who had 'chosen to be sad'. I don't believe that's how depression works.
3. The love-story itself. What could have been an amazing avenue for us to experience a polyamorous relationship is thrown off balance by the overkill of Rumi-ism. Using Rumi doesn't necessary make a love story 'complicated'. And then the existentialism. Not implied, just stated. Their on-again-off-again love-story gets very predictable. Leading to an even more predictable ending.
4. Characterization or lack thereof. I enjoyed reading this from Mira's POV. Sara's character is messy but is still OK. Even Sara's mom. It had a very 'Sharp Objects' vibe to it.
Rahil is a lost cause. I felt like I saw the relationship only through the women. The man was reduced to a third wheel.
5. The randomness of the writing. The writer builds up almost nicely and throws you off by saying the most random things.
Sample these.
'Not head and shoulders healthy, but still, it was nice hair.'
'My Anxiety diminished before my butt hit the chair.'
I couldn't gather what the significance was with the story taking place in a fictional town which has a fictional fruit either.
This was especially frustrating because it came with such high recommendations.
Ultimately, it felt like the writer chewed more than she could digest. I get it. Mira, Sara and Rahil are supposed to be deeply flawed and messy characters. Which ultimately comes off as confused and twisted. Their relationship is supposed to be toxic but what's toxic is that they eventually ended up drinking black coffee with sugar. And those are the kind of people I wouldn't want to be around.
Not worth the hype.
February 12, 2019
A disclaimer: I've known Rheea since we were spotty bratty teenagers, and so I have no objectivity. I went into this book knowing that it would be good, and I came out of the book confirmed in that view.
Is this a love story? How do you know someone, how do you KNOW them, where do you find their core authentic self - and what if there is no such thing as an authentic self?
Mira is a widow, falling in love with Sara and Rahul. Who is Sara, really? Why is she I'll, what is wrong, can it be fixed? What is Rahil doing there, do his devotion and support hide something deeper?
Mira has spent years with her grief as a widow, with the consolations of philosophy. With Sara she cannot hide behind those abstractions. Together we see these three people navigate the difficult path of trust and honesty.
With beautiful, shocking prose, Rheea Mukherjee asks us how we see ourselves, our bodies, how we navigate sickness and health in a concrete world. This concrete is literal - developing urban cities in India are hard edges and shiny surfaces - and metaphorical - what are you? What are you *allowed* to be when you live here?
Pitting western philosophical thought against Sufi spiritual consciousness - perhaps pitting is the wrong word, this is a conversation, an argument, a forgiving. When you love someone, whom will you set free, and whom will you cage?
The Body Myth is a nuanced, gentle narration of healing, finding and losing your self and another's. Mira, Sara and Rahil work through their journey, privately and publicly negotiating their relationship with themselves and each other. Each event is inevitable; each moment is a complete shock. Rheea Mukherjee's control over her narrative is flawless. I highly recommend this book - get hold of a copy as soon as it launches and thank me later.
Is this a love story? How do you know someone, how do you KNOW them, where do you find their core authentic self - and what if there is no such thing as an authentic self?
Mira is a widow, falling in love with Sara and Rahul. Who is Sara, really? Why is she I'll, what is wrong, can it be fixed? What is Rahil doing there, do his devotion and support hide something deeper?
Mira has spent years with her grief as a widow, with the consolations of philosophy. With Sara she cannot hide behind those abstractions. Together we see these three people navigate the difficult path of trust and honesty.
With beautiful, shocking prose, Rheea Mukherjee asks us how we see ourselves, our bodies, how we navigate sickness and health in a concrete world. This concrete is literal - developing urban cities in India are hard edges and shiny surfaces - and metaphorical - what are you? What are you *allowed* to be when you live here?
Pitting western philosophical thought against Sufi spiritual consciousness - perhaps pitting is the wrong word, this is a conversation, an argument, a forgiving. When you love someone, whom will you set free, and whom will you cage?
The Body Myth is a nuanced, gentle narration of healing, finding and losing your self and another's. Mira, Sara and Rahil work through their journey, privately and publicly negotiating their relationship with themselves and each other. Each event is inevitable; each moment is a complete shock. Rheea Mukherjee's control over her narrative is flawless. I highly recommend this book - get hold of a copy as soon as it launches and thank me later.
August 10, 2019
The book intrigued and perplexed me - An unusual story of love, life and living congealed within the premise of the intellectual and spiritual mind. Rheea's writing has always touched a chord and this offering is no different. Her writing flows seamlessly almost as if one is having a conversation with chamomile tea and oatmeal cookies. You never for a second imagine that you are reading the story of a threesome relationship because it all integrates flawlessly.
January 6, 2019
I got hold of an ARC.
The storytelling was so fluid, and vivid, that it made it hard to put down. I rarely feel that way about literary fiction.
The characters, their inner clocks, their motivations and machinations, elevate the seemingly plain setting of the book almost to thriller level, without ever losing flow.
This makes it my best fiction read of the last couple of years.
The storytelling was so fluid, and vivid, that it made it hard to put down. I rarely feel that way about literary fiction.
The characters, their inner clocks, their motivations and machinations, elevate the seemingly plain setting of the book almost to thriller level, without ever losing flow.
This makes it my best fiction read of the last couple of years.
August 14, 2019
Full review on my blog:
https://blog.medhaapps.com/2019/08/bo...
Suryam a small Indian city is the only place where the Rasagura fruit grows. Mira a resident of this city, and a teacher by profession lost her husband recently in a road accident, less than an year after their marriage. One day she meets Sara and her husband Rahil in a park, as she notices Sara having a sudden seizure. That chance encounter quickly turns into deep friendship. and soon an obsession for Mira whose life was pretty uninteresting and lonely till she met this couple. Where will Mira’s relationship with Sara and Rahil lead her forms the rest of the story.
The story line about three individuals sounds simple, until the characters and their multiple layers are revealed. Mira has her own struggles with the past of her mother’s illness and untimely death, grief from losing her love Ketan and the loneliness that followed. Mira’s only relief is her extensive reading of World history and trying to teach her students, beyond their syllabus. Mira’s obsession shifts from history books to Sara as she relates to Sara’s illness like her mother. But Mira also gets quickly drawn to Rahil further complicating her relationship with the couple.
The story is intense from the beginning, the characters unapologetic, and strange at times. However, as the back stories of each of them starts unfolding, their behavioral traits make sense, revealing their insecurities, their grief and pain. The analogy to the Rasagura fruit can be understood only after completing the story. Mira’s narration of history and Sara’s philosophy on the body and soul connect and Sufi music help explain their varied behavior.
The story is not sugarcoated and hence suited only to those who enjoy real characters. The mental health issues raised through Mira, Sara and Mira’s mother only reflect on how deep emotional scars may never leave a person and how the society often fails in supporting them or understanding them. The entire story is narrated by Mira and as she mentions at the start it is her perspective and truth that the reader gets a peek into. I would have liked to know more about Sara and Rahil beyond Mira’s narration.
The Body Myth is an intense, emotional roller coaster ride which leaves the reader wanting to know more about the protagonists and get deep into their psyche.
https://blog.medhaapps.com/2019/08/bo...
Suryam a small Indian city is the only place where the Rasagura fruit grows. Mira a resident of this city, and a teacher by profession lost her husband recently in a road accident, less than an year after their marriage. One day she meets Sara and her husband Rahil in a park, as she notices Sara having a sudden seizure. That chance encounter quickly turns into deep friendship. and soon an obsession for Mira whose life was pretty uninteresting and lonely till she met this couple. Where will Mira’s relationship with Sara and Rahil lead her forms the rest of the story.
The story line about three individuals sounds simple, until the characters and their multiple layers are revealed. Mira has her own struggles with the past of her mother’s illness and untimely death, grief from losing her love Ketan and the loneliness that followed. Mira’s only relief is her extensive reading of World history and trying to teach her students, beyond their syllabus. Mira’s obsession shifts from history books to Sara as she relates to Sara’s illness like her mother. But Mira also gets quickly drawn to Rahil further complicating her relationship with the couple.
The story is intense from the beginning, the characters unapologetic, and strange at times. However, as the back stories of each of them starts unfolding, their behavioral traits make sense, revealing their insecurities, their grief and pain. The analogy to the Rasagura fruit can be understood only after completing the story. Mira’s narration of history and Sara’s philosophy on the body and soul connect and Sufi music help explain their varied behavior.
The story is not sugarcoated and hence suited only to those who enjoy real characters. The mental health issues raised through Mira, Sara and Mira’s mother only reflect on how deep emotional scars may never leave a person and how the society often fails in supporting them or understanding them. The entire story is narrated by Mira and as she mentions at the start it is her perspective and truth that the reader gets a peek into. I would have liked to know more about Sara and Rahil beyond Mira’s narration.
The Body Myth is an intense, emotional roller coaster ride which leaves the reader wanting to know more about the protagonists and get deep into their psyche.
January 23, 2020
Wow.
Just read this.
I'm shook.
Fuck.
Just read this.
I'm shook.
Fuck.
March 24, 2019
3.5/5
I like to flip through my books when I get them, and occasionally I catch sight of the final few pages. This was especially true when reading the Body Myth, as Goodreads doesn't have the page numbers for any edition, so I was intermittently checking that it was REALLY 234 pages. During the course of reading The Body Myth, I skimmed the final page and was like "huh I wonder how we got here." Now that I've finished the book I'm like "huh I wonder how we got here."
That first chapter really invited me in. There's an immediate sense of mystery- something is up with the beautiful Sara and her dutiful husband, Rahil. The main character, Mira, is in just the right place to become completely immersed in their world. Her husband is dead, so is her mother. She spent the previous year reading European philosophers on a psychiatric farm until she simply decides to walk home. She becomes a teacher at a private school, sort of humming along until she meets Sara and Rahil.
I wish I could tell you what really drove the three of them to each other. Their connection, instantaneous, increasingly strange, complicated and toxic, remains a bit of a mystery to me. The twist regarding Sara's "illnesses" can be seen from a mile away- it's implied, alluded to and finally downright stated. And then just as suddenly she's cured. There's a (kind of) happy ending after months of tension and weirdness. Mira changes so completely under the influence of Sara (and partially Rahil, but tbh he's a very vague character throughout) that she's almost unrecognizable. Is it because she's finally found meaning and happiness after tragedy? Maybe?
Maybe I need to re-read it. Philosophy was admittedly one of my least favorite subjects in college, so I was never going to really embrace that facet of this book. I had high hopes for The Body Myth, and while I'm not necessarily disappointed, I'm confused. I feel like I walked through this book in half a trance, and until tripping over the ending. For that reason, I rounded down instead of up. The writing was beautiful, but it ultimately doesn't make up for parts of the plot that just didn't connect.
I like to flip through my books when I get them, and occasionally I catch sight of the final few pages. This was especially true when reading the Body Myth, as Goodreads doesn't have the page numbers for any edition, so I was intermittently checking that it was REALLY 234 pages. During the course of reading The Body Myth, I skimmed the final page and was like "huh I wonder how we got here." Now that I've finished the book I'm like "huh I wonder how we got here."
That first chapter really invited me in. There's an immediate sense of mystery- something is up with the beautiful Sara and her dutiful husband, Rahil. The main character, Mira, is in just the right place to become completely immersed in their world. Her husband is dead, so is her mother. She spent the previous year reading European philosophers on a psychiatric farm until she simply decides to walk home. She becomes a teacher at a private school, sort of humming along until she meets Sara and Rahil.
I wish I could tell you what really drove the three of them to each other. Their connection, instantaneous, increasingly strange, complicated and toxic, remains a bit of a mystery to me. The twist regarding Sara's "illnesses" can be seen from a mile away- it's implied, alluded to and finally downright stated. And then just as suddenly she's cured. There's a (kind of) happy ending after months of tension and weirdness. Mira changes so completely under the influence of Sara (and partially Rahil, but tbh he's a very vague character throughout) that she's almost unrecognizable. Is it because she's finally found meaning and happiness after tragedy? Maybe?
Maybe I need to re-read it. Philosophy was admittedly one of my least favorite subjects in college, so I was never going to really embrace that facet of this book. I had high hopes for The Body Myth, and while I'm not necessarily disappointed, I'm confused. I feel like I walked through this book in half a trance, and until tripping over the ending. For that reason, I rounded down instead of up. The writing was beautiful, but it ultimately doesn't make up for parts of the plot that just didn't connect.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 1, 2019
The book opens with beautiful language. But as we proceed, the depth and profundity get lost somewhere. It is as though the protagonist is lost and confused in the entanglement of the 3-some she has landed herself into. The voice also loses its beauty and confidence. Instead, it comes out as confused and unsure.
Sara tries to speak wise sounding words. And there is a lot of literature that addresses the futility of life. But Sara's expression of these ideas lacks power. She sounds more like a sick woman who mutters in her sickness. Mira is drawn to Sara intensely, but the draw is more like a kindergarten girl who fancies that girl friend who has the prettiest frock, or that other girl whose mother bakes delicious brownies. I wish there was more substance and more strength in their relationship. There must be something Mira received too from Sara besides the sex? Maybe a spiritual connection? But I couldn't feel it. It was so feeble.
All 3 involved in the 3-some lack character. Why else would a husband who truly loved his wife not go after her to look for her? If Mira claims her love so much, how did she rise from Sara's escape so nonchalantly? The end makes me think - Mira's pull towards Sara must have been a psychological displacement and sublimation of jealousy. She's lonesome and wishes for the life Sara has?
The mental illness Mira claims they have is a random hypotheses. The writer could have worked some more to prove its existence. Same applies to the fictional fruit and city. The protagonist is obsessed with calling herself an intellectual, repeatedly. This would have had a better effect if she let the reader deduce that about her instead. She says it so many times, that you can go 'I know, you're an intellectual. What next?'
Mira's questions about her mother receive full closure. Appa is a fine character. This quality of closure could have been given to the main 3 people and their illness/ questions/ doubts / suspicions about each other.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 16, 2019
The body myth is about Polyamory, irksome, weird and yet still settled relationship of Mira, Sara, and Rahil. This threesome thing in the book will surely make many readers uncomfortable and question the current sanity of relationships in modern India. Let alone reality, it was harder to see such relationships developing in the Indian society, even in the case of fiction backdrop.
The narrator Mira, a school teacher, is a thirty-two-year-old widow, who lost her husband within seven months of her marriage. Her life took an unexpected turn, the day she found a beautiful woman having a seizure in a park. She fell in love with her and entered into an intimate relationship with her and with her husband too. The complex and intimate relationship of Mira with the couple Sara and Rahil may be about love with no boundaries but lacks belief.
Rheea’s narration is unfussy and comes very easy. Her effortless writing could be a great reason to pick this book, but I didn’t get the purpose of this story talking about the stability of mind with the body. It felt absurd and illogical with no context in place. While reading most of the book, I failed to understand why the author put the threesome plot with this mind-body myth thing. It wasn’t making any relevance.
The narrator Mira, a school teacher, is a thirty-two-year-old widow, who lost her husband within seven months of her marriage. Her life took an unexpected turn, the day she found a beautiful woman having a seizure in a park. She fell in love with her and entered into an intimate relationship with her and with her husband too. The complex and intimate relationship of Mira with the couple Sara and Rahil may be about love with no boundaries but lacks belief.
Rheea’s narration is unfussy and comes very easy. Her effortless writing could be a great reason to pick this book, but I didn’t get the purpose of this story talking about the stability of mind with the body. It felt absurd and illogical with no context in place. While reading most of the book, I failed to understand why the author put the threesome plot with this mind-body myth thing. It wasn’t making any relevance.
November 28, 2018
DISCLAIMER: I got an ARC of the book.
The art of the review, if it possessed any to begin with, has like many other things gone the Zomato way. Mr. Shah liked the ambience, but the waiter's lack of an antebellum sense of servitude left a lot to be desired. What we are left with is a hackneyed, threadbare grocery list, colored with splashes of rococo prejudice serving as the only reminder that there is indeed a person typing all this out. This review endeavors to be no more than that. The brief review is that I implore you to buy this book, the economy of it is an attractive proposition in this respect, at 200 odd pages, Mukherjee packs in an engaging narrative that you MUST see to its end (trust me, you'll feel the same way at page 1) while not sparing us with sterner themes to ruminate about once you've kept the book away. Despite its economy, one is reeled in, to the milieu, the mood, the malaise, eventually finding oneself fully complicit in this universe. Anything that does that and looks so good deserves to be on your shelf.
The art of the review, if it possessed any to begin with, has like many other things gone the Zomato way. Mr. Shah liked the ambience, but the waiter's lack of an antebellum sense of servitude left a lot to be desired. What we are left with is a hackneyed, threadbare grocery list, colored with splashes of rococo prejudice serving as the only reminder that there is indeed a person typing all this out. This review endeavors to be no more than that. The brief review is that I implore you to buy this book, the economy of it is an attractive proposition in this respect, at 200 odd pages, Mukherjee packs in an engaging narrative that you MUST see to its end (trust me, you'll feel the same way at page 1) while not sparing us with sterner themes to ruminate about once you've kept the book away. Despite its economy, one is reeled in, to the milieu, the mood, the malaise, eventually finding oneself fully complicit in this universe. Anything that does that and looks so good deserves to be on your shelf.
August 14, 2019
Irksome. That’s the closest word to express what I felt while (and after) reading this book. More so after because I wasn’t sure why I felt that way.
The writing is good, no doubt about it. The language is clear as well. The subject is bold, new and unconventional. Despite these, there were a few things that just did not work for me.
The narrative starts out beautifully but loses potency in a few pages and trails off eventually. The characters are modeled carelessly and in several places the dialogue and situations are not believable. None of the characters are deep despite having several pages dedicated to their credit. It feels like the story has not been thought through.
The book comes across as a vapid collection of several napkin notes and scribblings pieced together at gunpoint. The philosophy, while present and often meaningful, feels disconnected and falls flat. Narrative, Philosophy, Situations, Characters. None of them flow with the story.
It took a great deal of my effort to persist with the book and finish it.
The writing is good, no doubt about it. The language is clear as well. The subject is bold, new and unconventional. Despite these, there were a few things that just did not work for me.
The narrative starts out beautifully but loses potency in a few pages and trails off eventually. The characters are modeled carelessly and in several places the dialogue and situations are not believable. None of the characters are deep despite having several pages dedicated to their credit. It feels like the story has not been thought through.
The book comes across as a vapid collection of several napkin notes and scribblings pieced together at gunpoint. The philosophy, while present and often meaningful, feels disconnected and falls flat. Narrative, Philosophy, Situations, Characters. None of them flow with the story.
It took a great deal of my effort to persist with the book and finish it.
October 23, 2019
The Body Myth is a spectacular piece of writing. Taking the reader through complex emotions like grief and loss as well as touching upon subjects that are not discussed as often as they should be (Polyamoury and Queerness for instance), Rheea Mukherjee is able to make this seem simple. This book has been a long awaited read for me ever since I heard about it.
What I particularly like is the way the characters are developed and make you feel like they may be seated right next to you... Sara and Rahil, who are seen as the ideal couple through the eyes of the narrator Mira, are as real as can be and also placed on a sort of pedestal as we all do with the people we love.
What has also stayed with me is the way grief/loss is dealt with by the protagonist. Threaded through this narrative is the reality of mental health awareness which is also something that doesn't get discussed in mainstream fiction.
Everyone must read this book!
What I particularly like is the way the characters are developed and make you feel like they may be seated right next to you... Sara and Rahil, who are seen as the ideal couple through the eyes of the narrator Mira, are as real as can be and also placed on a sort of pedestal as we all do with the people we love.
What has also stayed with me is the way grief/loss is dealt with by the protagonist. Threaded through this narrative is the reality of mental health awareness which is also something that doesn't get discussed in mainstream fiction.
Everyone must read this book!
May 7, 2019
First of all, it was so engaging Rheea Mukherjee has a crisp, cool, and clear voice that immerses you in Mira’s life. The Body Myth is San Francisco meets bustling Suryam City. The narrator Mira falls hard in love with sickly and spiritual Sara, and her devoted husband Rahil. She reflects on it and just keeps on going.
Also I LOVE Mira as a teacher and her interactions with her student Samina. Ultimately I think The Body Myth does a magnificent job of portraying the relationship between our minds, our bodies, and those of others.
Also I LOVE Mira as a teacher and her interactions with her student Samina. Ultimately I think The Body Myth does a magnificent job of portraying the relationship between our minds, our bodies, and those of others.
September 9, 2019
This book absolutely blew my mind because of its daring unconventionality, its hypnotising narrative, and its outstanding treatment of topics that might otherwise seem profoundly shocking and even - on occasion - perhaps unimaginable. A word of caution, though: if you're looking for something sweet, safe, comforting...don't pick this one up. It is anything but. The Body Myth certainly isn't meant for the faint-hearted reader. Leave all your expectations at the door and dive right in, to a world that is throbbing with insight, intensity, discomfort, and disconcertingly palpable emotional adrenaline in every sentence; on every page.
August 5, 2019
I don't understand all the glowing reviews of this book. A young teacher who has recently lost her husband befriends a couple and has an affair with both of them. It seems like a glorification of codependency, excusing the actions of the woman and husband by thinking that his wife is this beautiful, spiritual soul who should be able to get away with doing whatever she wants. Not my thing and I usually enjoy both contemporary Indian fiction as well as a non-traditional love story.
December 5, 2023
Some books stay with you, long after you've finished them and cause an unfamiliar ache, leave you wanting for more. Maudlin, and very unique, The story compels you to keep reading it till the very end. The characters portrayed have the ability to both shock and enthrall you. It's where the expected meets the unexpected. Can you believe what you can’t see but what may?
July 27, 2019
This book is to books what white women with dreadlocks are to humanity.
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