My thanks to Deep Vellum for a review copy of this book via Edelweiss.
Diary of a Malayali Madman by N. Prabhakaran and translated by Jayasee Kalathil is a collection of 5 short stories (one of which is about novella length) initially published in 2014 and via Deep Vellum in 2023. These were originally written at different points of time in the 1990s and 2000s as the inscription with each story indicates.
These are stories that certainly push the boundaries in terms of structure, all told in the form of a collection of vignettes, which are connected yet not quite in a flow. Most do not have that traditional neatly (or otherwise) tied up ending, and so lack that feeling of completeness. And this is where I felt an observation of the author himself in an interview with the translator at the end of the book seems rather apt
Derrida, Deleuze, Guattari, Foucault, Badiou and others are common subjects of literary discussions here. But when a genuinely different work appears, it takes months to form an opinion.
On similar lines it is the case that when writings are outside of a familiar frame in terms of structure or approach, they cause readers that discomfort, that feeling of being less than satisfied; it takes time (and effort) to get one’s head around the structure.
While it is only the titular story that refers to ‘madness’ in its title, all the stories (and I was happy to get confirmation of this in the translator’s interview with the author) deal with madness in some form or other, but this is madness in the sense of not fitting in with the commonly accepted state or structure of things, of how life is ordinarily supposed to flow. Some of these characters live in a sense apart from these structures, others are part of them, yet maintain their distance in their involvement and as observers.
In ‘Wild Goat’, Georgekutty, youngest of a wealthy family (and on the verge of being committed to treatment for mental illness, as we learn right at the start) tries to eschew all that he has learnt. Observing that those around him, whether it is his only surviving older brother Babychayan (who is running the family plantations and enters politics), or Pappachan (Baby’s driver) or even his own father when alive, live in ways that disgust him at different levels, finds some solace in the forest. In ‘Tender Coconut’ a young counsellor and psychologist tells the story of a tender-coconut seller Mohanan who arrives at his clinic for treatment and presents a puzzle at different points in time while alongside telling us of his own life and practice. In ‘Pigman’, a researcher makes over to the reader, notes left by a hostel neighbour, Sreekumar whose job in a pig farm exposes him to increasingly unsettling and horrifying experiences. ‘Invisible Forests’ is the story of Krishna who is unmarried and about thirty, working as a teacher of history. At home she witnesses the strained relationships between various members of her family, whether her parents’ marriage while her mother was alive, and now both her sisters who each suspect their husbands of infidelity. Alongside the violent politics of the small village plays out in the background, and we are also shown how a number of people over the years have committed suicide making it what is termed a ‘suicide village’. The final and titular story is ‘Diary of a Malayali Madman’, where the narrator Aagi (short for Aagni which translates to ‘fire’) inspired by Gogol writes his own story, again being a person who is unable to fit in to the ‘normal’ structures of life, which leads him to varying degrees of what we would see as trouble.
The stories attempt to look at numerous aspects through the perspectives of these characters who fall beyond the category of ‘normal’ (in the translator’s words, who are able to access a ‘non-consensual reality), whether it is morality, human relationships (love or marriage), authority structures, gurus, and much else. Much of the ways people live are acknowledgedly far from ideal (in fact, the opposite), yet these are the patterns seen as ‘normal’ and accepted.
Politics is another aspect that runs through all of the stories, in some more prominently than others, and we see a reflection of the rather violent turn this takes in Kerala, an issue of particular concern in the state. Clashes, murders and assaults as also hypocritical standards are reflected.
The author also, as we see again in the interview, wishes to highlight the loss of ‘ideological vigour’ the ability to think critically, to really engage in literature or even philosophy or serious discussions about them, mostly following one path or the other on a mechanical level rather than based on any serious faith (politics in the state for instance, as he says sees families with certain party sympathies continuing to follow them as a tradition, rather than even understanding the philosophies that underlie that inclination). Perhaps in this light, his stories are intended to get his readers to think and rethink life and its various facets, what they really believe in, and what philosophies underlie their beliefs.
The translator has done a wonderful job with what are (as she admits) challenging works to translate and capture the essence of, and it was interesting to see that she’s managed to work in some of the accents and pronunciations of the region in the text as well.
These aren’t stories one can ‘like’ or ‘dislike’ but ones that are certainly thought provoking and that are I think meant to get you to question the ‘normal’ and see that there can well be other frames and different ways to assess and think through them.