The book is well-written and clips along at an appropriate pace. Tying the descriptions of conditions in with the story of Fatima’s burning and subsequent court cases enabled the author to come to a logical ending point and include a traditional climax. As a result it reads more like a novel than a work of non-fiction.
The novels that reflect humanity are often that, reflections. Novels are fiction, they reflect stories about real people. They are written to be plausible, believable. But are not actually about real people.
On the other side, non-fiction sometimes contains the phrase “The names of persons and places have been changed”. We are used to seeing this disclaimer before or after many real life narratives in film and book form.
The words that gave me pause about Behind the Beautiful Forevers came in the Authors Note after the book. “The events recounted in the preceding pages are real, as are all the names”.
Real kids went to jail, real people experienced joy upon discovering a precarious shelf strewn with undiscovered garbage, the reeking sewage lake infiltrated the nostrils of real noses. Real people died and their body lay in the street for hours.
This realization is what hits hard.
I’m curious if one of these slum dwellers was able to rise up out of poverty. One out of this entire Annawadi population of I’m guessing 3000 people?
Are we allowed to admit how good we have it in America or does guilt and shame get in the way? I felt guilty and fortunate while reading this book. We live lives of luxury most people on this planet would not comprehend.
People come to America because of the opportunity of prosperity, not promised prosperity. Note that this prosperity is both economic and social. And yes, we have a long way to go ourselves.
India’s progress towards equal opportunity sounds as stagnant as the sewage pond in Annawadi.