Arundhati Roy, in Mother Mary Comes To Me, offers an unflinching and deeply personal account of the complex mother-daughter relationship. Her vivid portrayal of a turbulent family dynamic and the hard life she endured is both compelling and raw.
Mother Mary Comes To Me is a potent mix of the personal and the political, interwoven with Roy’s signature humor. It’s a book that not only critiques but also finds moments of levity. There are scathing lines that will make you chuckle while still holding up a mirror to society. The memoir takes us through various facets of Roy’s life, notably her stormy relationship with her mother, Mary. A complex figure, Mary embodies both awe and fear in equal measure. As a character, Mary is not easily likable, but her inner strength demands respect.
Mary is a woman who defied societal expectations, challenging sexism and battling illness while raising her children. Her personal achievements are substantial. She founded Pallikoodam, a school in Kottayam, and in 1986 won a landmark Supreme Court case that granted Syrian Christian women equal inheritance rights in Kerala. By challenging the discriminatory Succession Act, Mary became a central figure in Indian social and legal history. It’s easy to see where Arundhati’s activism comes from—Mary was a trailblazer.
The dynamics between Arundhati and Mary are complex, filled with both admiration and fear. These emotions create a raw, relatable narrative that resonates not only with readers interested in activism but also those who appreciate a personal account of family struggles.
Roy’s depiction of her early life is particularly poignant, highlighting the struggles of Mary in raising her children and the toll it took on Arundhati and her brother. The memoir paints a vivid picture of Roy’s chaotic upbringing in a politically turbulent period of Indian history. Arundhati’s fight with her own burgeoning identity and emotions gives the memoir a raw, unflinching quality.
One of the most refreshing aspects of the memoir is Roy’s lack of poetic embellishment. For instance, when recounting the obscenity trials related to The God of Small Things, she does not shy away from bluntness. She writes, “Being accused of obscenity and corrupting public morality would be the first of the three criminal cases filed against me by separate, unconnected batches of five male advocates. One of which would briefly send me to prison.” This candidness, her refusal to sugarcoat the hardships she endured for her bold stance, makes for a harrowing but honest read.
The Narmada River Dam Project controversy also plays a crucial role in Roy’s life and activism. The book showcases how her opposition to the project became an essential part of her public persona. One of her most striking quotes touches on the fusion of her writing and activism: “I was soon being called a ‘writer-activist,’ a term which I found absurd because it suggested that writing about things that vitally affected people’s lives was not the remit of the writer. That needed an additional appellation. To me ‘writer-activist’ sounded a bit like sofa-bed.”
Another memorable passage touches on her stance as a nationalist, despite being branded an “anti-national” by critics. She reflects, “The more I was hounded as an anti-national, the surer I was that India was the place I loved, the place to which I belonged. Where else could I be the hooligan that I was becoming? Where else would I find co-hooligans I so admired? And who among us supposed equals had the right to decide who was ‘pro’ and ‘anti’ national?”
This memoir is not just an exploration of Arundhati Roy’s life, but a profound commentary on societal norms, political resistance, and the power of unfiltered truth.
