I was inspired by our group discussion today! It started me thinking about different boundaries in The Hungry Tide, how they’re presented and what their function is. The novel explores boundaries in a really beautiful and interesting way. Ghosh puts forward a lot of different kinds of boundaries but they all generally fall under the following categories: nationality & language, and humans & nature. 

The boundaries of nationality and language are very clear from the start. It is the first thing Piya and Kanai talk about, both of these things play an integral role in every relationship she forms. The language barrier plays a significant  role because it hinders Piya’s ability to communicate with Fokir, but they form a connection despite it. There is also a moment earlier in the book when Piya relearns the word gamchha and all the memories she reconnects to. Ghosh shows us these different ways that boundaries exist in the world, especially regarding nationality and language, but then shows us how they are not end all be all. 

The boundaries between humans and nature are incredibly significant in the novel. On page 248, when Kanai and Piya are going back and forth about the killing of the tiger, we see how Piya is viewing nature as its own separate thing, something that we as humans with agency have a responsibility to protect. This reminded me of some of the readings we did earlier in the semester, because there is this hint of a belief that we are not part of nature, so there again is that rigid divide. I think this moment also highlights a divide that exists surrounding conservationist ideals and their real implications within these communities that are living lives that are entirely surrounded by nature, all of the time. Even in sleep the snakes will come. In my group Kat mentioned  in the novel that Bonbibi, when a newcomer arrives, determines if this newcomer is worthy. It made me wonder if the tiger was a test, not necessarily a test of “will you live or die”,  but rather a way to challenge what Piya thinks she knows about nature and what it means to not only be a champion of the natural world, but how to truly be a part of it.

There are so many ways that boundaries make an appearance in the novel that you could write an entire paper about it. In the tide country, the tide is always moving, always reshaping the land. There is a fluidness to this constant change. Perhaps the way boundaries exist in the novel is meant to emphasize this point of changing with the times, learning to adapt in a world affected by climate change. We see it in the way that all the separations are bridged. The tide country is described as inhospitable, and yet people live there. People learned how to live with nature, how to coexist with nature.

In the first half of Amitav Ghosh’s “The Hungry Tide”, we are introduced to a rather harsh environment- the Sundarbans. Between tiger attacks and tidal floods, the area is nearly inhospitable. We come to learn about this area through the two main characters- Piya and Kanai- who both have different backgrounds, lead different lives, and have different attachments to the Sundarbans. 

Through Piya’s point of view, we see the Sundarbans as a place of scientific interest. She is there to study the river dolphins that are native to the water there. She is very determined to learn about these dolphins- persevering through dangerous misadventures to do so. She clearly feels passionately about the mammals, but her status as a complete outsider to the area- an American- creates this disconnect between her and her goals. 

Kanai, on the other hand, has a bit more of a connection to the Sundarbans, he lived there with his aunt and uncle for a bit when he was a child. In the beginning of the novel, we see through his eyes how the area has changed since he last visited in 1970. He is in the Sundarbans to go over documents that his uncle left for him to read, written by him about the area. His character adds more cultural depth to the area.

Another important character gets introduced- a local fisherman named Fokir. He is helping Piya navigate the rivers to find her dolphins. He has a deep understanding of the tide and the creatures within it due to a lifetime of experience with them. His knowledge of this ecosystem (specifically navigating it) is unmatched due to these experiences and he becomes essential to Piya’s journey. 

The diverse backgrounds of these characters are used by Ghosh to come together and intertwine to give the reader a more complete and complex exploration of the Sundarbans. Piya’s scientific perspective, Kanai’s intellectual curiosity, and Fokir’s lived experience together illuminate the complexity of this unique ecosystem. It also brings life to what this area means to different people, what it can offer. Scientific enlightenment, social and cultural significance, or simply livelihood. This narrative teaches us to value different perspectives and what each of them brings to the table. Furthermore though, it creates a more compelling story than any one of their individual perspectives would. 

When I first started reading Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower, I wasn’t sure what to think about it. The matter of fact, blunt, almost flat style of writing is not what I am used to. After getting through this first set of chapters though, I am beginning to understand this to be and intentional and useful tool from Butler. I was struggling to age the main character when I first started reading because of the tone of narration, then when I learned her age, it clicked for me that of course she is going to sound older. She is living in a world where she had to grow up very fast.

There is a theme in these first couple of chapters of how quickly the children must age. The main character herself is 15/16 and very intelligent and observant. She is all to aware of the state of the world and where it is heading, and is having her own ideas about what religion is to her. She was taking care of other children, according to her, when she was only one year old. The children in this book are living through extreme times, and they simply must take on more responsibility from a young age than any child should need to. So, when Butler is writing this character’s internal thoughts and dialogue, it is in fact supposed to be a very serious tone. It emphasizes and helps shape the world-building in the story.

In chapter 5 there is a scene in which the main character, Lauren, tries to tell her best friend about the things she believes and the future she sees for the world. This discussion scene (and the following scene where she talks to her father) reminded me of the excerpt we read of Ghosh’s The Great Derangement, in that people have a hard time accepting reality and looking at a scary future in the face. And because they have a hard time with this, they are unable to prepare themselves for it. Lauren heartily believes in preparedness, and simply does not understand why other’s don’t. Lauren’s internal monologue for the duration of the conversation is wise, astute, and clever in a way that had me, as the reader, in total agreement. The “learning to die” theme is also playing a role here. Lauren can’t understand why people are so unable to let go of the past, why they want it back so badly even though it got them to the point they are at. Their unwillingness to move forward, even for the sake of survival, baffles her.

Butler sowed in these themes so effortlessly in these first few chapters, in large part, simply by using this specific narrative tone on such a young character. I see why this work is so influential to writers like LeMenager and Ghosh. Though is was written around 30 years ago, it is very much applicable to modern day’s mindset of denial and fear in regards to climate change.

This excerpt from Ghosh’s The Great Derangement, titled “Stories” explores themes of probability, belief, and adaptation and their relation to the climate crisis and the issues we face in representing it.

Ghosh writes about probability and chance as they pertain to literature. He explains that in modern literature we have this aversion to improbability. If events are too unbelievable the reader will write it off as improbable and therefore unrealistic. He applies this to weather events by saying that the way in which these extreme weather events are occurring- and the scale at which they are occurring- if put in a novel would seem obviously and exaggeratedly metaphoric. They would seem out of reach, easy to explain away as a one-time thing. Chance, luck, some other intangible driving force behind them. But, as Ghosh so sharply observes, “to treat them as magical or surreal would be to rob them of precisely the quality that makes them so urgently compelling—which is that they are actually happening on this earth, at this time.” (pg 27). 

While reading this excerpt, I couldn’t help but draw some parallels between this work and LeManager’s “Climate Change and the Struggle for Genre”. In LeManager’s writing, she repeatedly mentions this concept of “learning to die”. By this she does not mean actually learning to die, but learning to let aspects of customs and culture die as a means of survival in this era where we are facing so many new challenges as a result of climate change. It is about learning to adapt, to change, to be willing to change. Ghosh writes about this idea, too. Specifically in section 11 when talking about disaster planning in cities that are likely to be increasingly affected by climate change. He says “If whole societies and polities are to adapt then the necessary decisions will need to be made collectively, within political institutions, as happens in wartime or national emergencies. After all, isn’t that what politics, in its most fundamental form, is about? Collective survival and the preservation of the body politic?” (pg 54). This idea feels alive throughout this entire excerpt though. For example, when he sows in the more unfamiliar aftermath of colonialism– houses and compounds that are built near the water as a symbol of wealth and how these places are threatened by climate change. Or, again, the alteration of Mumbai’s topography, specifically the destruction of natural drainage systems, causing flooding after intense downpours.  These situations exist because of years of ideas we have about wealth and power that are constantly reinforced by doing the same thing over and over again, but we have to move past these ideas in order to survive. The unwillingness to accept climate change as an imminent threat causes us to fall back into these foolish patterns and prevents us from acting effectively. We have to “learn to die”, or learn to let go. 

Ghosh uses very real tales of natural disasters and their tolls to emphasize that the climate crisis is a very real threat, but one that we as a society do not seem prepared for. It doesn’t even seem to exist in the foreground of many of our minds. These tales he tells, some of which are personal anecdotes (New Delhi tornado, the threat to Kolkata), feel very personal which serves to inform the reader in an impassioned sort of way. 

Ghosh titled this section “Stories”, which feels appropriate because the way he presents these events, ideas, and facts feels intimate, as stories always are. The way these natural disasters are detailed in this piece read like a novel, something I think is quite intentional (and clever). The juxtaposition of very intense ideas and realities with these story-like scenes (think Sundarban forest description in section 8), forces the reader to constantly be engaging critical thinking when moving through the ideas and sentiments in this work, to be conscious of the fact that this is reality. And it is a reality we must contend with. It is because he writes this way that readers are able to think deeply and emotionally, but also clearly and critically, about climate change and what the reality of it means for us.