Review: The Green Book; An Observer’s Notebook by Amitava Kumar

Amitava Kumar’s The Green Book: An Observer’s Notebook is the third in the series after The Blue Book: A Writer’s Journal and The Yellow Book: A Traveller’s Diary. In spirit, it is all three – a writer’s journal, a traveller’s diary and an observer’s notebook. There are ruminations on writing and the ‘process’, notes on Gaza, journeys along the Ganga, and reflections on the darkness that lies within. The book is divided into different sections but is thematically fluid.

Kumar begins by framing his Notebook in the tradition of the journals of the Bronte sisters, Henry David Thoreau, Vladimir Nabokov, Jack Kerouac and Annie Proulx. One may think that it will probably lean into the Euro-American literary tradition only, especially considering that the author lives in America. But that is not so. We meet Intizar Husain, Arati K Rao, Dushyant Kumar, Gieve Patel, Arundhati Roy, Satyajit Ray, Ravish Kumar and Nirmal Verma, among others, in these pages. A visit to Premchand’s house is also thrown in. There’s a lot made about the act of journaling too, maybe because it is an observer’s notebook and how better to note your everyday observations than by journaling. Kumar insists that it is crucial to give a road map to a writer. Journals also ‘provide a record of thinking’ (p. 33). He then shares his thoughts on a few writers and their ‘thinking’. He writes about his own earlier works, showing some of his writerly choices but shies away from sharing what he thinks of his works now.

The writing is matter of fact, almost asking readers to interpret and analyse. And then there are the bits that make it The Green Book. He is vocal about the effects of man-made destruction on Uttaranchal, Joshimath and the Ganga. ‘The plight of the people in Joshimath has everything to do with the river, or more accurately, with the blasting of the rock beneath Joshimath to build a hydroelectric project here, diverting the flowing waters of the Alaknanda…’ He also introduces us to grassroots activists working in the area and tells us of their endeavours.

His account of his trip along the Ganga made for interesting reading. That it was undertaken while dealing with the loss of his father gives these questions a certain bite. Kumar writes about spending a day in a comfortable hotel in Varanasi after bathing ‘out of a bucket in different bathrooms across Uttarakhand… littered with ant wings and naphthalene balls. In one of them, the smell of urine emanated from the drain when the water went down, making me suspect that the drain for the shower and the septic tank were connected.’

Adding to the environmental stress is the Gaza war. He writes of what children there have to undergo – losing lives, families, limbs. It is all presented like a news bulletin. While the author spends ample time writing about his father and exploring what the loss means to him and his sisters, it is when reading about these children in a country so far away that the tears begin to flow. He also examines the connection between crony capitalism, politics, religious fundamentalism and the environment.

And then there is the organised violence closer home: people being killed for the food they eat; bodies butchered so minutely that not enough parts can be found to make a corpse – because they dared to love outside ‘the community’. We learn of the girl who everyone thought had died of a burst appendix but had actually been killed by her own family. Who would seek justice when the perpetrators are from your own home? The reader learns the incident is from the author’s ancestral village ‘from my boyhood’. In the now, ‘a feminist activist had tweeted about a Hindu man being publicly killed in Hyderabad for marrying a Muslim woman.’ And college students think going for protests is unlawful.

Through his mediations on Shaunak Sen’s All That Breathes, a profound film on coexistence, he looks at the gradual normalisation of hate and violence. In a section that should be made compulsory reading in schools and colleges, he picks apart and explains the film’s various strands and techniques.

The author also raises an interesting point about ‘heroism’. He asks if only heroic activities deserved to be chronicled and wonders from where this need for the narrative of heroism arises. He supports the first with a charming anecdote about a father asking a stranger to take his son home as he has to rush to his hospitalized daughter. Doesn’t this display a faith in humanity more than it does heroism? The answer appears a few pages later when Kumar’s friend talks of heroic narratives making the disenfranchised feel more empowered.

The author’s beautiful water colours give us a sense of actually rifling through his diary. His style of simply stating facts invites readers to join the dots and make sense of the world. The pace is unhurried, as if talking while on a leisurely walk. However, a whole lot is packed into these 238 pages.

On the last page, Kumar presents an image and offers two captions to his readers. It’s a tough choice.

In the end, it’s all these elements that make the book interactive and fun despite all its thematic heavy-lifting.

Priyanka Sarkar is an editor, translator and writer.