Yakshi -- Malayattoor Ramakrishnan

Thank god I had not watched the movie before I read the book. (Although I love the song Swarnachamaram Veesheyethunna Swapnayirunnenkil Njyaan, from the same movie it seems).

Yakshi is a fantastic novel. Multilayered and psychedelic, it explores the human mind – particularly the male mind – in its full flowing despondency.

Though it starts slow and the build-up is not really exciting, by the time you are half way through, Yakshi has caught you by the throat.

It is the story of a young and handsome chemistry college professor – Srinivasan -- who, I a quirk of fate, has his face burnt in a freak accident in the laboratory. Just when his life was about to blossom, it wilts.

His lover, a student of his, promptly ditches him. He turns a recluse and decides to take up his passion seriously – a study of Yakshis.

Just when life seems to have got into the new routine, Ragini – an abnormally beautiful woman – literally walks into his life.

He is first astonished, then relieved to have such a beautiful companion and decides to marry her although her background, whereabouts and history are quite murky and vague. If nothing, this is one way Srinivasan can “give it back” to the world which rejected his horribly ugly face.

But unknown to him, Srinivasan has another shock awaiting him. The lab accident, along with an extremely disturbing experience at a brothel just before meeting Ragini, have wrecked him internally too, and he now incapable of making love.

The well-built and athletic Srinivasan painfully realizes that he has become impotent. But his conscious mind refuses to acknowledge the fact. Instead his mind activates the classic defence mechanisms – projection and denial.

He starts believing Ragini is a Yakshi. He begins hallucinating about non-events. Coincidences start throwing up new meanings that reinforce his fear of Ragini.

Malayattoor paints a powerful picture of male ego, Freudian symbolism and schizophrenic desperation. A wonderful read.

Nakshatrangale Kaaval – P Padmarajan

Pappettan is my favourite Malayalam movie director by all standards. But I was told he was a better writer than a movie maker.

That spoilt the party for me.

This novel – my first Padmarajan work – was such a huge disappointment.

Cliches and boring melodrama mar the otherwise manageable plot. The characters are extremely inconsistent and unreal.

The only saving grace was the unpredictability of the narrative – as often seen in his movies -- and the author’s attempt to show different perspectives to a single event.

Why have Malayalam authors – the very few that I have read – been obsessed with the “over-descriptive” style? Why do they blindly follow Hardy and Lawrence?

The most ridiculous part of this novel – as also a few other Malayalam novels I have read – is the unrealistic English conversations among characters.

Even in this day and age, I doubt whether urban middle class or lower middle class families use English as a conversational tool between family members – or even among friends. There would be even little chance of this happening in the 1970s in a rural set up – even if the characters are well off.

Padmarajan peppers the narrative with statements like “I say you get out!” and “leave me alone” to add that dramatic feel. But they turn out to be damp squibs.

Because there is the least possibility of one using an alien language when one is emotionally charged. When in anger, grief or desperation, most of us instinctively use our mother tongues to express ourselves. Not Pappettan, it looks like.

Anyways, I guess after finishing the two other books of his that I have I will simply stick to his movies.

If you intend to read this novel, forget it. Try out something else.