“You’re not responsible for what happened.” He dared not look at Watson. [break]
“I am Sherlock,” Watson replied, a deep fervor in his voice. “I am responsible. I could have tried harder. I could have listened to Madhu. I…”
He looked up at the ceiling. “I could have done a lot of things differently, you know,” he continued, calmer now. “A lot of things.” Pg 180
At a time when Nepali authors penning books in English is becoming more common, Manan Karki’s debut novel, The Memory of Leaves, brings something new into the growing collection.
The novel is written in three segments through the eyes of three central characters, Watson, Sherlock, and Agnivesh, each of whom offers very different perspective on overlapping events.
For this reason and many more, the book sets itself apart from any piece of already published writing by Nepali writers writing in English.
To begin with, Karki brings a novel that is a refreshing break from the overabundant collections of short stories already available in the market.
On top of presenting multiple perspectives, Karki also brings his own voice into Nepal’s literary arena. Whereas one could read a short story and not be 100% sure which Nepali writer the author is, Karki has distinguished himself by using a style and form of language that is unmistakably his.
This difference in voice is well delivered through the three narratives in the book. However, as compelling as the narratives are in their own way, Karki might have erred in choosing the order. He begins the tale with Watson, a terminally ill man writing a lengthy suicide note.
The author might have delivered a stronger first narrative if he had not taken the risk in writing a mildly scattered and repetitive means of storytelling. Even though it falls in line with Watson’s state of being, it makes for an erratic reading, which results in a weaker beginning.
Due to this, the first section, and especially the old English used in Chapter 1, is not able to cast a spell that draws readers in.
That being said, the flow in the second segment with the crafty Sherlock, Watson’s childhood friend, is an easier read. With a hint of mystery and mischief, only Sherlock is able to finish the stories that Watson starts, and is able to add another layer to the tale that is already unfolded.
But it is, without a doubt, through the eyes of Agnivesh, the third voice in the book, that Karki has earned the coveted title of a writer. The third and final segment of the book is a textbook example of how writers should “show and not tell.”
In being able to do this, the reader is able to understand the anger, actions, and complexity of Agnivesh perhaps even better than the character is able to understand himself.
Bringing in new life and an edge to the book, Agnivesh’s narrative is eye-opening, somewhat humorous and a perfect third opinion on the happenings of the novel.
Though the voices are clear and distinct, Karki might have been able to earn his skill more credit had he included a woman in the telling. With three male protagonists, the story heavily lacks well-formed female characters.
Though a daughter and a wife are critical to the story being laid out, the women themselves only serve as background to the book, as one is deceased and the other is in a vegetative state.
Perhaps if Karki had taken the challenge of portraying a female voice, he could have earned his writing and talent even more credibility.
Karki also deserves due credits for not exploiting Nepal to sell his story. The setting is not central to Karki’s work. Of course, there is a certain charm for Nepali readers being able to identify the names and recall the vibes of locations like Lazimpat or Thamel, but the story, unlike works by other Nepali authors, can be easily adapted to be set anywhere.
Save for needing a river, The Memory of Leaves is beautiful in that way, as Karki does not fall into the trap of cheapening his work by using a tantalizing and exotic Nepal to add appeal to his book.
As a whole, the thread that carries through the entire novel loops and ties well and is worth a read. However, for all the variety that Karki brings, there is still room for improvement because after a read, The Memory of Leaves may not be the most memorable read, after all.
Without a doubt, it brings something novel into the existing Nepali literature, but it lacks the excellence that could make it a hit in the international arena.
This novel is another example of how talent and potential are evident in Nepal and Nepalis, but there is yet a ways to go before becoming contenders on a global scale.
The Memory of Leaves was first published in Ireland in 2009 and was released in Nepal in June, 2011.
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