The lockdown will have to continue. There is no choice anymore.

Thinking about the inevitability of the lockdown being extended, I vaguely remembered a line from Kafka's Investigations of a Dog - Dogdom went down a path, feeling that they could always turn back.

Searched on archive.org and the part I recalled :

I can understand the hesitation of my generation, indeed it is no longer mere hesitation; it is the thousandth forgetting of a dream dreamt a thousand times and forgotten a thousand times; and who can damn us merely for forgetting for the thousandth time? But I fancy I understand the hesitation of our forefathers too, we would probably have acted just as they did; indeed I could almost say: well for us that it was not we who had to take the guilt upon us, that instead we can hasten in almost guiltless silence toward death in a world darkened by others. When our first fathers strayed they had doubtless scarcely any notion that their aberration was to be an endless one, they could still literally see the crossroads, it seemed an easy matter to turn back whenever they pleased, and if they hesitated to turn back it was merely because they wanted to enjoy a dog's life for a little while longer; it was not yet a genuine dog's life, and already it seemed intoxicatingly beautiful to them, so what must it become in a little while, a very little while, and so they strayed farther. They did not know what we can now guess at, contemplating the course of history: that change begins in the soul before it appears in ordinary existence,

Tolerating religion - taking the easy option

I came across the following Reading the Bible (Or the Koran, Or the Torah) Will Make You an Atheist from is-this-the-first-honest-bible, which also had this wonderful link God Is Disappointed in You: Original Sin.

I had personally been relieved when the anglican school allowed us to opt out of the bible class and take moral education instead. My teacher was very disappointed. I was the best student. I could answer the questions as expected to the delight of our teacher :) I never had the courage to actually tell him what I thought about what he was teaching us.  Aside from the emotional scar, the content was GIGO.

Similarly, I avoided any argument or discussion about my views of Ramayana. Aside from the childhood memory of loving Rama burning the Ravana effigies on Dussehra, I can't ever recall any appreciation of his actions. I preferred Ramayana Retold by Aubrey Menen. I had read it abroad (my father had bought it). I believe it was banned in India. More recently, I also loved Sita Sings the Blues (on Wikipedia).

Stories from Mahabharata were different. Even Yudhishtra could be made to lie! The moral ambiguities of the heroes were quite a learning experience. The irony of Dron Acharya forcing Eklavya to cut his right thumb and then both of them fight on the same side against Arjun is something which still troubles me.

As a child, I am told I troubled my parents because we visited a temple ruin and there was no priest to give me prasaad. However, for as long as I can remember, I have been extremely uncomfortable whenever I had to go to a temple or any religious place. I tolerated it out of politeness. Even today, I take deep breaths and ignore statements about "god's will" or similar statements as meaningless and not worth offending my neighbours and relations. But, I have to make a strenuous effort to avoid the temptation to respond.

I suppose the content mentioned above had a greater impact today because of the depressing headline about pointless violence in today's paper.

Thought Control the Goal? : Censured for irresponsibly expressing "ideas" that could hurt people

The day started badly. I looked at the newspaper and two headlines stared at me -

• Mamata told cops to block me: Rushdie
• SC protects Nandy, raps him for being irresponsible

I was already depressed. I am reading A Clockwork Orange. The blurb on the back says -

"I do not know any other author who has done as much with language ...a very funny book' William S. Burroughs

I haven't searched for the original quote but that is obviously a statement out of context. I can't believe that Burroughs could have ever meant 'funny' - not even like Dr. Strangelove. Anyway, the book was ordered online and the blurb on the back had no influence on me except now to increase my irritation at marketeers.

I can't help but wonder if anyone in India would have allowed this book to be published. As per the introduction, Burgess had felt guilty that perhaps the book might have had an influence on the cult of violence. He shouldn't have as I doubt if even a single person indulging in mindless violence had ever read his book or even heard of him.

A Clockwork Orange and Dr. Strangelove are two unforgettable films by Stanley Kubrick. So, when my son saw A Clockwork Orange in the US recently, my interest in it was revived and I became curious about the chapter left out by Kubrick in the film. Now that I am retired, I can sit in the sun and read this phenomenal, though hard to read, book.

The book is even more relevant today as I avoid looking at the daily doze of news items about 'ultra-violence', which make me cringe.

Anger and Rage - Justice in all Courts and not just Fast Courts

There was a third incident of rage and rampage in China - in addition to the two which were highly visible in India last week. This one also attacked school children as in the US. I was struck by the quote:

“Chinese society is full of anger and rage,” said Murong Xuecun, a best-selling novelist and popular online commentator. “Everybody has anger. It must be noted that every society has its share of sociopaths. But for China to have so many is no doubt abnormal.”

This could apply equally well to India. I am troubled by repeated requests for fast-track courts for various crimes which catch the imagination of media and public. This distracts from the obvious need for justice for any and all crimes - no matter how small.

Heinrich von Kleist's Michael Kohlhaas (ebook on Gutenberg) is a classic example of the problems a society can face as a consequence of a relatively minor injustice of misuse of power.

I wish we would accept research on deterrence and re-work the legal system accordingly:

Research has shown that increasing the severity of a punishment does not have much effect on crime, while increasing the certainty of punishment does have a deterrent effect

I suspect that the likelihood of conviction would go up if the severity of punishment was less.

• Risk of the consequences of a wrong decision will be much lower. 
• The reward for subverting the judicial process would also be lower. 
• The process of trial would probably shorten and all pending cases would benefit.

This would be quite analogous to tax compliance increasing as the income tax rates go down.

Joys of Crime Fiction

Now that I have time, I am rediscovering joys of reading crime fiction. It started with Stieg Larsson. I read the trilogy virtually non-stop.

Now, as I am about to finish Jo Nesbo's Harry Hole series of books in English, I wonder why is crime fiction fun. Why do I read them?

The first couple of crime fiction books I read were by Raymond Chandler early in my college days. It was more fun to watch the movies or TV serials.

Then in the mid-seventies, I found The Man who Went Up in Smoke and The Locked Room on the sidewalks of Mumbai. While searching for what next to read, I found that novels by Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö are available today even in Indian online book stores like Indiaplaza and Flipkart. They should keep me occupied for the next few months.

I suppose the reason I like these books is that one can fantasize and hope that there exists somewhere someone like Lisabeth Salander who will take revenge on those beyond the law!

But when it comes to the desire for justice, the finest book I have read is Michael Kohlhaas by Heinrich Kleist which is now available on Gutenberg. The  very first line had hooked me:

Toward the middle of the sixteenth century there lived on the banks of
the river Havel a horse-dealer by the name of Michael Kohlhaas, the
son of a school-master, one of the most upright and, at the same time,
one of the most terrible men of his day.

Recollections - An escape and procrastination

In retrospect, I should have made more time for reading. It was a good year if I managed to read more than half a dozen books during that period. With one major exception.

The year I spent in Helsinki was phenomenal. The two(?) television channels showed Finnish/Swedish programs. There were a couple of English shows - about an hour a week. I bought a newspaper once a week. I am pretty sure I missed nothing.

My colleagues went home on time. There was little point in my hanging around the institute after I had submitted my main job for the day. The computer output would probably be available by the next morning.

I had time. I finished a book a week. By the end of the year, I was finding it hard to find a book among Penguin modern classics, except some which either did not appeal to me or I could not finish. For some reason I could not finish "Berlin Alexanderplatz" or books by Thomas Mann. They are still lying unread on my bookshelf - waiting to be read.

It was probably in Helsinki that I first came across the terrific novels by Knut Hamsun, especially Hunger.

As I procrastinate, avoiding correcting final exam papers, I am also wondering - should I teach another class? Wouldn't it be much better to spend more time reading books and seeing old film videos?

Discovering that I liked 'Literature'

If I ignore Physical Education where my teachers were very generous and gave  me a C for just showing up, English was my worst subject. It ensured that I did not get all A's.

I was bored in most classes but English used to be particularly difficult. I was constantly day dreaming and bewildered at how teachers and fellow students could keep finding and discussing ideas related to stories and novels. I think I was convinced that I did not understand literature. It was just not for me. I had to stick to mathematics and physics. So, it does feel very very good to come across Ian McEwan helping his son with an essay on his novel.

I am indebted to a fellow student at Northwestern who thought that I would like Outsider by Albert Camus. I am grateful to him because were it not for him, I may never have collected my most precious assets - the experience of reading great novels.

Over time I found that most of the books I liked were by European authors. The one book by an American author which I still love is Philip Roth's Portnoy's Complaint, which obviously was not part of the school curriculum :)

We, the aged, are the Achilles heel!

I saw China's Achilles heel in the print edition of Indian Express today. It disturbed me and I have been trying to understand why.

The first factor was the demographic dividend has seemed like a  joke to me. I can easily rationalize that belief based on my efforts to find competent people to recruit in India.

But that wasn't it. What troubles me are statements like

But rapid ageing also means China faces what is called the “4-2-1 phenomenon”: each only child is responsible for two parents and four grandparents. Even with high savings rates, it seems unlikely that the younger generation will be able or willing to afford such a burden.

And

The number of those just setting out (those in their early 20s, who are usually the best educated and most productive members of society) will have halved.

These statements reflect the implicit assumption that we, the aging, are unproductive liabilities. What they may lead to in a period of crisis is frightening especially in societies where money is becoming the only way to decide.

Ian McEwan's protagonists are aging as time progresses. I look forward to a book written by him where the protagonist is now an aging unproductive member of the society.

Recalling McEwan's First Love, Last Rites

Some people we know were talking about a marriage headed for annulment. I was reminded of On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan and would have loved to bring it up. But I held back as they were unlikely to have read McEwan and would not have appreciated it.

The first time I had come across Ian McEwan's work was in a bookstore in Amsterdam in 1976. His collection of stories First Love, Last Rites had stood out with its very simple light cover. I had not heard of him and bought the book on an impulse. This was one book which shook my beliefs like no other book had done before or since. Butterflies still haunts me. Homemade and Last Day of Summer still trouble me.

After reading the Cocker at the Theatre, I realized that I had come across McEwan earlier. I had read Cocker at the Theatre in a magazine distributed at a Broadway play. It was very funny then and is probably even more relevant today.

After returning to India, I searched for McEwan's books but it was rare to find any until about a decade ago.

I had loaned First Love, Last Rites along with a few other of my favourite books - e.g. Kleist's The Marquise von O. He was the first person I had met in India who had shown an interest in these type of books. Unfortunately, he did not return those books and I do not think that he read them either.

I can't even buy a copy of Kleist's book anymore. I could buy First Love, Last Rites again but, somehow, the loss of that first book cannot be compensated.

Troubling thoughts after reading A Pale View of Hills

I finished reading A Pale View of Hills by Ishiguro a few days ago and I can't put it out of my mind.

I love the way Ishiguro plays with memories. On several occasions, I have argued that B was inevitable because of A only to be told by my wife that A happened after B! My mind seems to adjust and reorder memories to make sense of the world. So, the topic fascinates me and I love the writings of Ishiguro.

But why am I troubled by this book? I found the book vaguely dis-satisfying as I wanted to know more about the protagonist. What made her want to leave her husband and move to England? What were her sufferings alluded to by her daughter? Unable to rationalise her actions, all I am left with is the despairing thought that our actions and decisions have an impact, at times painfully drammatic, on those around us whom we love and for whom we want to do the best.