After reading Priya Malhotra's gorgeous WOMAN OF AN UNCERTAIN AGE I felt compelled, rather than writing a review, to write a letter to the protagonist, Naina.
LETTER TO A PROTAGONIST
Dear Naina,
First of all, I'm sorry for your loss. I know it's been quite a while since you lost your husband, but I think one can never just "move on" from such immense tragedy. It becomes part of you.
You'd be pleased to know that Priya did a remarkable job retelling your journey, her lush descriptions of your life, how you arrived in America from India, your arranged marriage, your life in New Jersey first of all, and your (brave!) move to Manhattan after the unthinkable happened, rather than doing the "expected" thing of resigning to being the dutiful widow, blending into the background, demure.
You might be less pleased to hear that Priya wrote your story candidly, unflinching, pulling no punches, and revealing far more about yourself than you would have wanted, considering you’re quite a private person.
The guilt you felt when you fell for your daughter's boyfriend for instance.
The horror upon your daughter's discovery, the heartwrenching months that followed.
But they were necessary revelations.
If we were to meet in real life, I assume you'd only tell me what I might want to hear, hiding the painful and embarrassing aspects of your journey (don't we all do that, giving people the version we'd like them to hear?).
"What kind of mother are you, Naina?"
I must admit, I did question this, and it was tricky at times to refrain from judging you, but the fact that you could barely live with yourself because of what had unfolded, and the remorse which seeped from the pages made me want to climb in between the sentences to comfort you.
You are a flawed human being, a beautiful, wise, and inspiring one.
It was no surprise that you turned to online dating eventually, even though you never thought you'd do so. It was entertaining to read, some of the emails you received actually made me laugh out loud.
Rest assured, Priya made your knowledge of and passion for art and music come alive on the pages, many times I found myself looking up references to books you read I was unfamiliar with.
I love the fact you enjoyed reading Isabelle Allende. It made me think, if Priya had not decided to write your story, it could have easily been Allende who'd conjured you up.
Last but not least, my dear friend (I hope you don’t mind me calling you that, you feel like a friend) the hummingbird, which makes a fleeting appearance in your story.
I looked up its symbolism. It’s uncanny.
I hope one day I’ll run into you.
Ideally in a nondescript place, a supermarket, perusing the fruits and vegetables. You’ll mutter something to yourself, and I’ll laugh and comment I do that too, talking out loud to inanimate objects. And I would tell you I like the top you are wearing.
You’ll look at me and smile, bemused.
I wouldn’t need to say anything more. I’d simply know I’d recognized you.
Love, Barbara