“All Indian American novels are about being trapped between our Indian and our American identities. And all young adult novels are about wanting to be popular and snare the handsome boy. Mashing them together is a can’t-fail combination” - Reshma Kapoor, Enter Title Here
If a book were to epitomise "meta", Enter Title Here, would be it.
Author: Rahul Kanakia
Publisher: Disney-Hyperion
(August 2, 2016)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1484723872
Reshma Kapoor is a high school senior in search of a hook.
Being valedictorian and at one of the most prestigious public high schools in the
country isn’t enough to get into Stanford – not if you’re an Indian American
with “average” SAT scores. What you need is a hook. So she decides to write a
novel about an overachieving Indian girl named Reshma, who writes about
experiencing all the typical American teenage milestones like kissing, partying
and sex, in order to create a hook to get into Stanford. And Enter Title Here is that novel. Meta
much?
Confused? Go read the book. A major part of my delight while
reading it was trying to untangle all the references within references. Enter Title Here is like the inception
of young adult novels. However, it breaks many tropes of the genre, the most
important being that the main character (it would be a stretch to call her a
protagonist) is thoroughly unlikeable. And she stays that way. Even as you grow
to understand her motivations and sympathise with her, you’ll never be able to
empathise with her (if you do I’m terrified of you). She’s driven, amoral, and
ruthless. Sharply intelligent and stunningly stupid; brutally self-serving and
spectacularly self-destructive; Reshma has multidimensional layers that unravel
through the course of the novel. And that’s why I call this book a feminist
win. Rarely do you find a female character (especially a teenage character) who
is allowed to be both complex and unlikeable.
Enter Title Here
is filled with complex female characters, who are made even more unknowable
because we’re seeing them through Reshma’s eyes and she’s definitely not a reliable
narrator. There’s Reshma’s friend/rival/drug dealer Alex, who is both drawn to
and disgusted by Reshma’s “soullessness” and nemesis Chelsea, whose friendliness
never fails no matter what provocation Reshma throws at her. I never felt like these girls were side
characters in Reshma’s story but rather that they all had their own stories,
which just happened to intersect with hers.
The male love interests, while nowhere near as interesting
as the girls, are also respectably drawn with realistic motivations and stories
of their own. The only relatively flat characters were Reshma’s parents,
especially her father, which was a real shame considering that the main
conflict of the book turned out to be related her relationship with her
parents. In fact, in an example of the meta-ness of this book, Dr. Wasserman,
Reshma’s therapist who’s giving her writing advice, even mentions that the
father character is underdeveloped, yet he remains that way till the end. I
still can’t decide whether this is an example of Kanakia’s genius or laziness!
Enter Title Here didn’t
just make me think, it forced me to
think. Many times in the novel one of the characters would read parts of her
book (which was actually the book I had on my computer screen) and comment
exactly what I would have commented at that point. It was downright bizarre to
see a book character seemingly reach into my mind like that! Kanakia would let
me build up one impression about a particular character or situation only to
turn my judgement on its head three pages later. I thought at least five times
that “the book must be about to end now”, because we seemed to have reached a
resolution, only to realise that I’d come nowhere close to the ending.
There is so much more I could say about this book, but then
I’d never stop raving. Instead I’d like to talk about something that made me
uncomfortable. Readers familiar with the desi YA genre will notice a
startlingly similarity between Reshma’s motivations for writing her novel and How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got
a Life, Kavya Vishwanathan’s 2006 novel about a studious Indian American
girl who decides to experience all the typical American teenager milestones in
order to become interesting enough to pass her Harvard interview. Opal Mehta, was later pulled from
shelves and the author disgraced because of allegations of plagiarism. How
ironic is it that a book in which plagiarism is a major plot point “borrows”
from the work and personal life of an author who was also accused of
plagiarism! Is this meta or plain old plagiarism?
Despite the uncomfortable similarity to Opal Mehta, I do urge everyone to pick up this book. It’s been a
long time since a book, especially a young adult novel, made me think so much
and made me desperate to talk about it with someone. There are so many issues
it touches – racism; intergenerational divides in immigrant families; the “pull
yourself up by the bootstraps” narrative; privilege; mental health; but it does
it so naturally that only when I was writing this review did I fully understand
the number of issues that Kanakia touches. Read it, and please get back to me
so that we can discuss it!
No comments:
Post a Comment