Amitava Kumar's 'A Time Outside of Time' has been advertised, hyped and recommended in all 'woke' circles, therefore also trickling into bookstagram and tube, quite inevitably. There's credible reason for this but it has also been much amplified meaninglessly which rather takes away from the book.
It's a difficult task to describe what the 'narrative' (if it can be even called that) is about but in the simplest terms, you might say Kumar is waging war with the complete phenomenon of Fake News, which has almost transformed into a decisive cancer in present times (therefore my confused 2.5 rating). On the surface, the narrative is about Satya (a fictional stand-in for Kumar) and his accumulation of random thoughts, an autobiographical account almost, throughout the sudden onset of the pandemic. Kumar collates and distributes verified articles along with fictitious ones freely throughout the text, 60% of it being words from articles, clippings, scientific research experiments, reports published in Medical journals, etc. Interspersed between are finite random small fictional accounts from 'Satya's': Kumar's childhood in Bihar, excerpts from everyday family happenings and a vague attempt to examine his influences. The novel lacks structure though this seems a deliberate or hasty decision, I am unsure. Sometimes, Kumar numbers his arbitrary commentary on ongoing issues, other times leaves a piece of autobiographical memoir and jumps forward. This makes the novel quite hard to get into. Satya talks about his wife, his child and sister-in-law (his family is pitifully sketched and only serves the purpose of providing information), his acquaintances at a retreat for work, the simultaneous epidemic that Fake News has become in his adopted and native countries, offers articles and supposedly scientific proof for what the world is experiencing now and it all culminates into a rather one-tone, self-oriented deconstruction, a clinical statement of the world as Kumar sees it- I found this grating and strange which led me to conclude, Kumar probably wrote this as a record of what he sees as truth in the age of Fake news, used the novel as a means to achieve some sort of personal satisfaction.
Nevertheless, when the personal motive is removed, I might say the novel speaks of a dire cause, that if ignored, will only mutate destruction. The articles that Kumar talks about here, I have long since assiduously followed and nit-picked through a garbage dump of news for authenticity, so none of the information is novel really, neither are the author's conclusions and 'messages', the sentences of despair don't touch colours of reality. There's only one piece on the second last page of the novel which actually managed to induce some emotion, deliberate in placement, about a man being lynched to death by a mob; filled with sharp insightful commentary on the ridiculousness of mob culture and the dangers of herd tendency. Throughout, I kept waiting for some other perspective, something else, another layer, another texture, something, but it hasn't been written in till the last page. I found much of the author's voice lacking to the point that I wondered if another one of his books would anyway be worth a read. Kumar even includes themes from one of my favourites, Orwell's 1984- a clear inspiration for this novel (reflected too obviously in the title) and Kumar's likening of his book to 1984 comes off quite pompous. Littered throughout the text are tiny assertions from Kumar, his little guises that led to writing this book. The style is completely journalistic, the genres have been deliberately blurred, even the primary 'fiction' and 'non-fiction' trees- it's hard to tag it in any one and this decision seems to be made just because- a shallow experiment; but it definitely veers more to the non-fiction for me. Kumar is simultaneously trying to be meta, assertive, literary all the while squeezing the thread of logic and as a last tired resort, showing slivers of solution. In the fictional autobiographical memoir-ish paragraphs, I found Kumar's attempts to sketch characters slightly sad. He decides to cover all bases that include diasporic experiences but this becomes a pitfall too because he puts too many eggs in a single novel; which in the end, falls short of actually doing what it definitely intended to do on it's onset- shake people at the core and change something fundamental in them (in Kumar's own words on page 142).
There are faint glimmers stating the true essence in language and literature, I would have preferred if Kumar stuck to fiction and wrote this narrative with multiple layers, maybe the novel could have succeeded better in establishing it's point; but then his instinct of journalistic prose would be absent. For his style to be kept alive, a non- fiction genre suited the ambition of this novel but Kumar tries to cover up and justify his deliberate distortion of genres later on (though quite unconvincing for me). I think not many people would get into it because of the clinical nature (though the fictional parts try to spark some emotion, particularly the childhood anecdotes), the almost drab journalistic entries; though the novel's issues talk about relevant topics, endeavour to set a piece of truth/history for posterity, I wondered if it would have served a better purpose if published at least five years later- Right now, we are living in the times penned here so have we gained enough perspective to appreciate what is or has really happened? If this novel works or not, if it's a genuine record or simply a slice of today's truth, maybe it will remain only a novel speaking about limited people and their experiences instead of what it was attempting to be- a comprehensive account of this disturbing distressing period; Only time will tell.
Meanwhile, as we mask up, wash hands, sanitise and think twice about going to crowded places, we get more time to spiral into traps, books might just become our saviours- through this age of information, manipulation, literature as Kumar declares in a sweeping statement, is an expression of a tiny will to freedom. Maybe the next book will make you question your beliefs, maybe change awaits after such turmoil. In the meantime, until that novel comes, 'A Time Outside This Time', with it's many flaws will have to suffice.