A few years ago, I first read Jhumpa Lahiri’s beloved novel “The Namesake.” Having found it to be a very endearing exploration of cross-cultural identity, I became curious to read more by her. With this Short Stop series, I will be taking a close look at her debut short story collection “Interpreter of Maladies.” Having won The Pulitzer Prize, I am curious to see if she is able to convey in a matter of pages what made her novel so substantial. Will this be a work that captures the complexities of being of two lands, where you’re in search of a home on two continents? Over the next few entries, I hope to discover what has made her one of the most essential modern writers and discover more of what she has to say about the human experience.
Throughout this anthology, Lahiri has found interesting ways to pair characters together. Even at their most innocent, she has a knack for exploring the Indian identity and how it creates a complicated relationship often with their immigration to America. As a land of opportunity, there’s the belief that everyone should be happy once they step on the shores. However, I have loved “Interpreter of Maladies” for finding the quiet ways that something feels different for these characters. With “Mrs. Sen’s,” it feels like a continuation of an idea that’s been present since “When Mr. Pirzada Came to Dine” in which a character allowing someone into their house welcomes a vulnerability that isn’t otherwise afforded to the outside world. It’s a story of a little boy and an older woman who babysits him. Like other stories, the lessons Lahiri hints at may be slight, but they create a brilliant vision of the diaspora.
At the center of “Mrs. Sen’s” is protagonist Eliot. He’s an 11-year-old boy who is dropped off at Mrs. Sen’s house for babysitting. They live a near hour away and yet there’s some desire to have him stay there specifically. It could be that The Sens are wealthy and intellectual. Their apartment is nice and warm. Like most Lahiri characters, Mr. Sen has a career in academia at a prestigious college. They symbolize success at its core, especially given that they are immigrants from India. People from their homeland think that everything is going well and that by achieving their goals they are immediately happy.
It should be noted that this is far from the truth. Starting with Eliot, his home life is far from lively. Outside of visiting The Sens, he is stuck at home in his beach house where he often feels alone and aimless. That is why pairing him with Mrs. Sen produces an interesting relationship. Like Eliot, Mrs. Sen has a disconnect from her community and often spends time wasting away inside a house. Maybe she’ll cook food or clean the house while waiting for Mr. Sen to come home. There’s not a lot to show for herself except for the role of a conventional housewife. That may be why the presence of Eliot begins to give her purpose.
A major development throughout Mrs. Sen’s story is how she tries to get her driver’s license. Mr. Sen believes that is doing a good enough job to get it by the end of the year. Together they train by driving around town and learning how to navigate the world. At a certain point, Mrs. Sen decides to take Eliot by themselves and it becomes clear how difficult this sense of independence is for her. She’s way too distractable and often gets into small scratches. While there hasn’t been a significant accident, it’s the type of worry that Mrs. Sen will always be codependent on others. She will never get a license, itself a validation of being an American citizen who can travel further than any stroll would allow her.
Mrs. Sen’s cooking is arguably her only connection to India. Being able to follow recipes and recall the significance of each dish allows her to think about her homeland. Similar to the writing of Amy Tan, Lahiri is an author who sees food as communal and comforting. Even amid potential discrimination, the universal truth is that everyone will become hungry and nothing becomes as coveted as a good bowl of food. Mrs. Sen recognizes this and it’s one of the things that she bonds with Eliot over. She may not be able to share much of her culture otherwise, but it’s the gradual process that allows her to slow down and take pride in her work. Eliot’s curiosity allows her to recontextualize a world she may have begun taking for granted.
Comparatively, Eliot has no attachment to his world. While he has his mother, he doesn’t have the comfort of a family recipe that would remind him of home. There’s no tradition that he’s yet developed that would give them resonance. Much like in “Sexy,” the absence of an identity creates a stifling conflict for the characters involved. Unlike that story, there’s no greater context for a world beyond these meet-ups. They are merely together as a form of amusement and even then it’s a chance to empathize and attempt to remove the loneliness from each other’s lives. Mr. Sen at least gets to go to work and deal with others. Mrs. Sen is alone, desperately trying to escape. If her driving is anything to hint at, she can't even do that.
Together, they are codependent on other people transporting them through life. The major difference is that Eliot may acquire skills as he grows older. He is young enough to observe others and learn from their mistakes. Even through her indirectness, Mrs. Sen reveals things about a life that doesn’t feel connected to anything greater. Part of it is sacrificing happiness for success. While some have that issue on a smaller scale, her inability to drive home and visit family and friends bothers her. The recognition of something being inaccessible has worn her down. Eliot may bring her joy, but he is a blank canvas. One day he will grow up and, hopefully, find people within his peer group. These moments are precious, but the bittersweet reality is that Mrs. Sen isn’t somebody who will be there in Eliot’s adult years.
That is why the concluding pages are interesting. If one were to predict how “Mrs. Sen’s” would end based on the premise, they would believe she would get her license and experience an outside world. However, it looks much more tragic when Mrs. Sen sits Eliot down one day and gives advice that may seem out of pocket even in its sentimentality. She mentions that one day she will have to take care of his aged mother and it’s important to love her. This indirectness may seem jarring but the reader can slowly realize what this means. For a child who is still codependent on an adult world, to be on the other side seems unrealistic. And yet, the idea that maybe Eliot will be the one babysitting his mother seems absurd. Maybe this is Mrs. Sen’s way of admitting that she’s growing old and thus no longer serving a purpose to him. After all, Eliot couldn’t tend to her adult needs. He must use the lessons of care that she taught him and apply them to his own life.
This isn’t the end of their time together, but it’s the last significant moment as far as lessons go. For those expecting Mrs. Sen to get her license, the story is a bit more tragic. One day while driving with Eliot, she gets into an accident that bends the fender. Nobody is seriously injured, but it lives up to the worst fears of Eliot’s mother. Mrs. Sen is, perceptively, not a safe driver. There’s no reason to leave her innocent child in the care of someone who could hurt them. As a result, Mr. Sen gives her the babysitting money back and Eliot is sent back to his home where he wanders around alone, unstimulated by the world around him.
From a personal standpoint, I find “Mrs. Sen’s” to be one of the anthology’s weaker entries. While I admire the attention to detail and the originality of Mrs. Sen’s home life, I think that there’s not enough present to make the story’s themes feel more substantial. Lahiri reflects how Indians and Americans feel alone even within a larger society where they’ve otherwise found success. It’s a message that I think was better depicted in “Sexy.” The only real differences are the generational divides that may say something provocative about isolation, but nothing that Lahiri hasn’t conveyed in more interesting ways before. It could be that these are intentionally two very ambiguous characters, but even as they bond I’m left unable to understand what’s so special about their relationship.
That said, Lahiri has yet to write a bad story in this collection. Every exchange is rich with small nuances that make you notice humanity. It’s full of humor and introspection and consistent with the larger vision. “Mrs. Sen’s” is by no means a replica. However, I think it can’t help but remind me of works I enjoyed more. Still, I admire its placement here because it speaks to the small divides within Indian and American communities and how they ultimately shape the people they become. It’s nice to see figures like Mrs. Sen, who are largely complacent in their environment and even in their freedom feel trapped. Contrasting that with Eliot’s whole future being ahead of him highlights how the world can be optimistic or foreboding depending on what kind of adult Eliot grows into.
This may be a minor story in “Interpreter of Maladies,” but it’s not shy of interesting moments that develop worthwhile commentary. The chance to stand around a kitchen and discover the significance of every ingredient allows for something heartwarming to emerge and reflect how even when our identity has slipped away, it can still be there in small traditions. We may never be able to escape the world that we’ve transitioned into, but hopefully, there will be some small piece to comfort us and remind us of why we matter. It’s a validation that doesn’t come from anyone but ourselves.
Coming Up Next: “This Blessed House”
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