| Q&A: Aravind Adiga
Did you deliberately set out to write about an aspect of India that has been glossed over in the international press?
There was no conscious attempt to write a counter-narrative to "India shining" — I can't imagine any good novel would come of such a polemical enterprise. I returned to India in 2003 after many years abroad and saw Delhi and the Gangetic north for the first time (I had grown up in the south), and what struck me most forcefully was this: despite there being such an appalling gulf between the rich and the poor, and the fact that the poor came into regular, close, and sometimes intimate contact with the rich, there was so little crime in India.
Think of South Africa, or South America, or even the poorer parts of an American city — there is such a link between economic deprivation and social unrest. But why not in India? Middle-class Indians think there is a lot of crime, but I would argue that this is not really true. If a housemaid steals a thousand rupees, it makes the papers. What keeps millions of poor Indians working in servile positions, and routinely exposed to temptation, so honest? How stable is such a system? Are there signs that it is creaking? And what would be the nature of a man, a servant, who would defy the system? These are the questions with which the book began.
The exploration of these issues leads into the question of where the servants in Delhi come from — from the villages, from Bihar and UP — and how they live, how they are raised, and how they think. That's why the novel deals with these issues.
Why the unusual framework of having Balram address letters to the Chinese Premier?
First, there is a real, historical hook: Wen Jiabao did visit India in 2005 — it was reported that he wanted to see and understand Bangalore's entrepreneurs. Secondly, Indians, more than other people I know, understand themselves in comparison to other nations. The "other" used to be the West until recently. Now it is China, which is depicted as a more efficient, evil, and successful version of India.
It's natural that Balram, who is very influenced by things around him — he calls himself a "sponge" — would come to form certain ideas about China as well. He has a somewhat exaggerated conception of his importance and it flatters his sense of importance to talk to the big man of China. I should point out that these are not letters he is writing — he is just talking out loud, as he lies down and stares at the chandelier.
It's a dark book, especially in the compromises Balram has to make in order to cross over to the "privileged" side. Is this a statement about the direction in which the country is moving?
Actually, some reviewers feel that Balram's drive and energy suggest great things for India. New York magazine said something like, if Balram is India's future, then India is going to kick America's ass! In England, The White Tiger is seen by many as a pessimistic book, and in the US it's seen as very optimistic — it depends on whether you believe that individuals succeed because of the existing political structures of the country or in spite of them, and the American view is probably the latter.
What kind of research did you do for this book? Are there any anecdotes you'd be willing to share?
A good part of the novel is based on observations made a couple of years ago, when I travelled about on my own — to Madhya Pradesh, Allahabad, Varanasi, Gorakhpur, Kanpur, Kolkata and Bangalore. Plenty of anecdotes, but if revealed they'd get me into trouble! |