This novel more than any other is one I’m struggling to sum up my thoughts about. For one thing, it is a sprawling work, covering almost 80 years and three generations of people with no small amount of detail. It covers diverse themes of religion, politics, humanity, as well as the the more nitty gritty, from art and love, to medicine, addiction, death, and coming of age. These themes are carried (sometimes literally) on the backs of an equally diverse array of characters. Doctors, farmers, custodians, writers, priests, layabouts and hard workers, the rich, the poor and everyone in between, even lepers get a few chapters of their own. The range of life this book covers is simply staggering in its own right, and to have each and every piece of it be just as interesting as the last is an astonishing feat. That isn’t to say that every moment is peachy though. At times I found myself unable to start reading again because I knew the characters that I cared so much about were about to die and I just couldn’t watch. Sometimes I knew they were going to live and that was even worse. Their lives are complex and often painful, physically, emotionally, and intellectually. There are moments that make you want to shout for joy and also moments that make you want to cry. Verghese hammers home the point that it’s hard to find one without the other.

The story itself is enthralling but the writing is just as good. I have more highlights in this book than any other I’ve read, dozens of little moments, perfectly formed paragraphs, turns of phrase, and technical wizardry that makes my head spin. It’s a lot to take in, and I think this will be one of those novels that I come back to in the future just to remind myself of a trick or two, and of course to experience the story all over again. I really can’t recommend this book enough if you’re a fan of literary novels. The only complaint one might have is that there isn’t that much ‘action,’ but only if your definition of action is strictly the violent kind. Really it is chock full of exciting moments, even if the vast majority of it isn’t someone punching a face. It’s hard to find a more comprehensive novel than this one.

I can’t summarize the story. There’s just no way. All I can do is tell you one thing carries through to the end, and that is ‘the Condition.’ The family that the book centers around suffers from a strange affliction that gives many members of the family a phobia of water due to their inability to swim. This issue waxes and wanes in importance throughout the book, but it’s always there, lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce when you least expect it. I think the book itself actually has the best summary one could ever offer, and it comes in the form of a prayer in the final moments of the most beloved character. No spoilers here, not really. Even if I told you what happens it’d be impossible to spoil it.

Such precious, precious water, Lord, water from our own well; this water that is our covenant with You, with this soil, with the life You granted us. We are born and baptized in this water, we grow full of pride, we sin, we are broken, we suffer, but with water we are cleansed of our transgressions, we are forgiven, and we are born again, day after day till the end of our days.

Heavy, yes. Representative, very much so. But this book is so full of light heartedness too. Take this excerpt, which got a good laugh out of me:

Literacy alters patterns of life that have gone undisturbed for generations. The proof of this, as Uplift Master recounts to Shoshamma, is his encounter in the tea shop. “This shirtless fellow on the bench says, just to impress me, I think, ‘The maharajah is a British stooge. I’m with Gandhi! Last week when Gandhi marched to the sea, why no one told me? I’d have gone with him! Why pay tax for salt when it’s there for the taking?’ Poor fellow. I didn’t have the heart to tell him Gandhi’s Salt March was eight years ago. But the fact that he knows of the march is progress!”

And yes, that character really does go by Uplift Master. He’s an interesting fella who knows just how to work the system. Here’s another interesting tidbit from him that reminded me of the Shawshank Redemption of all things, when Andy Dufresne sends letter after letter until his precious library is installed:

The money is in the budget! But the clerk in the Secretariat has resistance when he sees our grant application. The fellow thinks, ‘Aah, those Parambil families survived all this time without a bridge. If my cousin gets the grant and the bridge comes to my village, won’t our property value increase?’ Monay, that’s why I type ‘c.c. His Excellency the Maharajah’ in all my correspondence. And ‘c.c.’ to any other functionary who sits above the person the letter is addressed to. Makes the fellow think twice, does it not?” Philipose is intrigued and asks Master if he files the carbon copies. “Aah,” Master says, with a glint in his eyes, “actually, there are no copies. But they don’t know that.”

Not everything is a fat paragraph either. I think Verghese has a gift for one liners just like Dangerfield. The only difference is the impact they have. Dangerfield makes you laugh, while Verghese makes you think.

To see the miraculous in the ordinary is a more precious gift than prophecy.

His appetite for knowledge was matched by one for toddy and female companionship, a cocktail of desires that would sink most physicians.

And if beauty is in the ephemeral, what about the beautiful things you can’t have? Perhaps that kind of beauty does last forever.

The ancient artists were devotees above all else. Without love of their subject, they’d just be cutting stone; their adoration is what brings it to life.

There are also some that make you laugh too. Maybe this next one requires some more context to truly understand, but if this can’t get you to read the book, I don’t know what will.

“Praise the Lord,” says Honorine. “He who farts, lives!” Digby coughs out his tea.

There’s not much else to say about it other than give this one a try. Even if you aren’t particularly into literary fiction, it’s hard to think of a modern book with as much charisma as this one has. It’ll certainly be at the top of my favorites list for a long time.

Thank you for reading,

Benjamin Hawley