Correction to an important geographical detail (thanks Parthi) and minor edits 31 March 2016.
In south India, Krishnan, a young English teacher, is joined by his wife, Susila, and baby daughter Leela.
They are able to set up a household together for the first time. Shortly thereafter, Susila contracts typhoid and dies. Krishnan, bereft, holds on through his love of his child, and with the help of his mother-in-law. Later, he makes contact with Susila in the spirit world and starts a new, more fulfilling job teaching children, away from the strictures of the formal syllabus.
An intensely moving story, which is all the more powerful because Narayan does something quite rare – tells a love story between two people already married - in this case the cautious and somewhat inhibited Krishnan (even though he displays an early cynicism about the English authors he has to teach to his college students) and the spontaneous, practical and determined Susila, whose character brings out Krishnan’s resolve and determination. He is a good man. They enhance each other. Susila’s illness and death is ineffably sad because her young life is cut so short and her affectionate relationships with husband and daughter are dashed. At this point there is a jolting change of direction in the story (she dies at the half way mark) which means the spiritual element becomes central, but it is neither surprising nor laughable. Krishnan’s endeavours to reach his wife after death are told with matter of fact sincerity, which makes his quest quite understandable. This also allows us to get to know Susila better (as does Krishnan, after she has gone from this world).
That the story is autobiographical makes it indelible - I feel we are reading Narayan’s actual diary when he recounts his state of being following her death. He wrote the story as a catharsis and thereafter maintained he had no need for an autobiography, because this was it. Three moments stand out for me: the horrendous description of the instant when an infected fly makes contact with Susila’s lip; the diary account mentioned above; and a memory of the nervous prospective bridegroom catching sight of his lovely prospective bride.
The English Teacher is my favourite Narayan - I’ve read them all – and this is the one I chose to read again on my first trip to India - in 2013.
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From August to December 2013, my step-daughter Zoe worked in India, the final placement of her Social Work degree from the University of New South Wales, in Sydney, where we live. Zoe worked in Chennai, Kotagiri (‘the place where blue mountains turn green’), and Kochi, in Kerala, where we caught up with her in November 2013. One of the highlights of our stay in India was a trip to Mysore, in neighbouring Karnataka, to the home of RK Narayan. Here are extracts from my journal.
Tuesday 12 November 2013 – Day 5: Kochi
• Started re-reading RKN’s The English Teacher - so good, so simple, beautifully structured and incredibly moving because it is autobiographical: his description of Susila’s illness and death (read RKN’s wife Rajam) is restrained and simple and full of the utmost despair.
Friday 15 November 2013 – Day 8: Kochi
• Finished The English Teacher, a beautifully sad, uplifting, heart-aching experience. Very different from the first time: on first reading, the main impact of the story is the sudden and awful death of Krishnan’s wife and the unexpected contact with her after death. The second reading in India brings to life all the detail of how the characters live, and gives me time to reflect more upon the differences between the principals and how they complimented each other, even though they were together for such a short time.
Monday 18 November 2013 – Day 11: Mysore
• A red-letter day! My best day in India and one of my best travelling days ever. An RK Narayan day of complete fulfilment, starting out full of hope and ending up far better than I dared expect. I found RKN’s house, and later a bookshop where I talked with a man who had met the author often.
• Started the day feeling better than I have for some time – always a good sign. Splendid breakfast of light curries, with a family sized dosa, made to order.
• Off on my own to find RKN’s house. I thought I would walk – on a temperate day, with low humidity (a relative concept). I had gone several blocks when a persistent auto rickshaw driver weakened my resistance, so I showed him my map to see if he could help. It turns out he could. At least he knew who RKN was and how to find his house on Vivekananda Road. The driver was David (really Ranesh). He stopped to pick up his friend Rajamani (the ‘guide’). Both have been in Mysore for decades. Rajamani knew a lot about RKN’s life in Mysore, or certainly the places he frequented, including a school (where RKN taught maybe, and his favourite Park, Cheluvamba Park on Kalidasa Road).
• RKN's house is in Yadavgiri – a well–to–do part of Mysore. I got a lump in my throat when I first saw the familiar building for real. I thought I would take a few photos from the street, but my guides went to the gate and talked to the caretaker - a poor, old man who had not been paid for three months. He let us in and we walked around. The house is still standing, but gutted with small piles of rubble inside. Despite the bareness of the building, or perhaps because of the emptiness, the absence of furniture and belongings set up as a memorial, I felt close to my hero – understanding and appreciating the environment he wrote in, unfiltered by a museum approach. I was able to imagine RKN and his family living in this lovely spacious two-story house, with its distinctive, curved living rooms with their large windows looking out onto pleasant greenery in the garden and the street. I went upstairs to the room where RKN created so many of his stories, and imagined the man at work. I felt privileged to be there.
• I took some photos and gave the caretaker some rupees.
• The driver and his mate drove past Cheluvamba Park - RKN’s favourite - and took me to Malgudi Café on Kalidasa Road. Simple murals cover the walls (on all three levels!). The food looked fresh and tasty. I thought I would shout my new friends coffee, but they were pretty well organised and soon plates of food started appearing in front of them. I wondered how much this was going got cost me. I need not have worried. It turned out to be 140 (AUD2.41). So cheap. I resolved to bring the family (Aleema, Zoe and young James) back here for a meal.
• Back to RKN’s house – forgot to take photos of me at the house…how lucky to find these guides.
• Returned to Sandesh the Prince, then all of us went out to shop for practical things. Walked up to Sayyaraji Rao Road in search of a supermarket, along wide avenues joined by roundabouts with statues in the middle (Malgudi style).
• A little further along, I discovered a beautiful little bookshop (J Nanumal & Sons) trading in the same location for 47 years and in total for four generations (back to the 1920s). Got some books: RK Laxman cartoons (RKN’s brother who published in the Times of India from the time of independence); biographies of ‘Tiger’ Pataudi and MS Dhoni and John Thieme’s book on RKN. The young man serving told us that RKN used to come to the shop. The gentleman’s father had actually met him. Later in the afternoon I returned to meet the senior bookseller who graciously spoke with me, over coffee, about RKN, the old Maharaja (who used to arrive outside the shop in his shiny black Rolls Royce and have books brought out to him for approval), and Mysore then and now. Mr Ashok Kumar is a man in his sixties I would think, who recalled RKN as a simple, humble person, coming to the shop and talking with his father and the customers. Mr Kumar also remembers visiting RKN’s house with his father in the 1960s and 1970s, for coffee, on the upstairs balcony, overlooking the street. I showed him my photographs from the morning, and he identified the spot. I asked Mr Kumar to sign my copy of The English Teacher.
Tuesday 19 November 2013 – Day 12
• Lunch at Malgudi Café on Kaladasi road. No westerners. Lovely South Indian vegetarian curries. Silver service and probably the best value meal we had in India. We asked one of the waiters about the locality and he could not really help us as he is from Kolkata.
• Had a ramble around Cheluvamba Park then took everyone to Vivekananda Road to see Narayan’s house then home.
-Ian’s Book of the Year 2007