His debut novel “Narcopolis” is a series of beautifully written connected stories that span from India to China, feeding on Bombay as its center. Bombay in the 70s with its opium dens and stories told through the haze in voices thick with smoke. The book has been reviewed as one about drug addiction, but it is more than just about addiction. It is an addiction in itself, with its language and spellbinding sentences revolving around compelling characters caught in a city of extremes.[break]
Thayil has since moved away from Bombay and lives a pretty isolated life in Delhi with two goldfish for company.
Photo Courtesy: Tejal Shah
“It’s as unglamorous as it gets,” he says. His father, mother and sister, who have seen him through twenty years of drug addiction, are his champions and support his writing. But Narcopolis, the book as irreverent as its author, deals with sex and drugs with clarity, and for doing so, he gets a lot of flak from the Indian audience. After his reading at Jaipur’s Literary Festival, he was asked, “If you hate India so much, why do you live here?” After the reading at the Edinburgh International Book Festival, a young Indian asked, “Is it a trend among Booker Prize listers to write about India in that way?”
Thayil calmly replied, “You must not have read my book, Sir. If you had, you would understand that I could only have written it because I love the place. Only if you care can you give so much attention to the way it is connected to you and written. It is a form of love.”
Here, Jeet Thayil talks to us about moving to India, writing and addictions. Excerpts:
How did the writing of Narcopolis start?
I started with Book Three, the entire section flowed. The prologue came very late in the writing of the book. There were lots of drafts I went through, at least four. In one of those, I completely rewrote the whole thing. There were 600 pages in the original. I took out 300 of those. They were what a first-time novelist would do. I rewrote with a more focused draft. When I was writing the novel, the sequence built itself in. I could remember Bombay in the 70s and 80s, things I didn’t know I knew, specific smells, things people said, songs that played then. I started writing with the idea of a non-fiction book about Bombay, about its opium history, and China had to be a part of it. Bombay was a megalopolis. Hundreds and thousands of high quality opium was shipped into India from China by the British East India Company. Their fortunes were built on opium, and when I realized that, I wanted to write about it.
The sections in the book dealing with India are gritty with specific details. The sections with China have a mellower voice less bogged down with particulars. Was this a conscious choice?
India is gritty and that’s how it is, the beauty in such things. I grew up in Hong Kong and I have an affinity for the culture and language there, which is mostly Chinese. I knew some Cantonese and was comfortable with using it in the book. The voice in the China sections, though, had to be Mr. Lee’s and certain choices had to be made. He was always in an opium-induced haze, so that was how it turned out.
As a poet, what was the novel-writing process like for you?
Poems occur to me with a line or image, at least the first part. It happens in a burst. Then you revise and revise it over maybe six or seven months. It is a much more spontaneous process. Writing the novel was a whole other thing, really boring. It is much harder and much less fun. Every night I went to sleep thinking about what I would do the next day, to plan. So in the morning, I could go straight to work. And it’s a slow process, the discovery of the story itself. I worked through each piece of writing with natural breaks. The structure came after the first draft. I knew where and how it would end right from the start but there was the rest to figure out. Every morning I read aloud the first thing and if I didn’t like a sentence, if it sounded clumsy or awkward or not true, or too written, poetic, I would take it out. I developed an ear from doing it everyday, I think. It really helps to think like an editor, be ruthless with a word or sentence. I do a little bit each day. Sometimes it’s only 30 words. Sometimes 100. Once I wrote 1000 words, that was a tremendous day.
What happens to things that get taken out?
I have a file of outtakes, stuff that didn’t fit. It’s a huge file with 40,000 words. The 300 pages I took out from Narcopolis are turning into a novel of its own, about modern saints, sinners and artists.
Do you have an ideal reader in mind or is there anybody specific you write for?
I don’t know if I write for anyone. There’s the ideal reader, of course. But I always think of my audience as someone you talk up to, not down. Someone you don’t have to explain to, whom I can trust and assume that he’ll get it.
Do you read other writers when working on your own writing?
I rest and I read to clear the mind, the anxiety that builds up. I used the Russian writers as models in some way. They have fifty-page digressions. I had quite a few myself but I changed them totally and made them one story. I read a lot of Dostoevsky’s Brothers Karamazov. The Stinking Asafoetida section points to his Stinking Elizaveta chapter.
The prologue is a sentence written from the point of view of the pipe. Can you tell us about the writing of it?
I know that section seems contrived and to write from the pipe’s point of view itself is a conceit. Which is why I had to work extra hard to make it seem genuine. I read it over and over and rewrote for atmosphere and color until I got it right.
What prompted you to write about the subject of addiction as you do?
Drug and city are interchangeable in my book. The city is as addictive as a drug. And I had been using drugs for 20 years, when I used to be a journalist. It’s an expensive habit. To be a drug addict, you need money and I needed a good job and steady money. Believe it or not, the patron saint of addiction and journalism is the same. I hated my life as a journalist. I wrote stories that nobody cared much about but I was never one of those who could crunch out a story. I always worked hard to get the language right. Sometimes I obsessed about a story for two days. I was in New York and I hated my life there. I tried quitting many times. I wanted to. In 2002, I got on the methadone program there, got off heroine and onto methadone. In 2004, I quit methadone and journalism. I already had a health crisis, a liver condition, and I knew that if I didn’t clean up this time, I would die. It was serious. I used to write poems but then I wrote nothing. After I cleaned up, immediately, I started thinking of a book. I had to keep my eyes open and live like a writer. It was such a relief not to be on drugs, to have that creature off my back.
What was it like for your family?
My parents, they were very disappointed in me for many years. I tried to quit nearly 30 times. I would close the door to my room and sweat it out for four or five days. I would get better and start drinking and slide again. It started with opium in Bombay. It got ugly and heroine was everywhere. I went to rehab in Bangalore. At one point, my parents put me in rehab themselves. There was a time when I think they gave up. But I always wanted to stop. With drugs, you develop a great facility for denial and a well-developed faculty for delusion. The last program I went to in the States was a longer one and I’ve been clean ever since. I try very hard not to make my book autobiographical. And I have specialized information. I like to think of those 20 years as embedded journalism. That makes those wasted years more bearable.
What prompted your move from the States?
I was often miserable in America. It took a lot of me to live there. It’s very hard. Everything has such huge consequences. I can’t handle it. And also, I was always a second-class citizen. India is a mess, abysmal but I don’t have to feel guilty or apologetic about it. It’s my mess. I was in New York when September 11 happened and I remember that feeling of fear being there as the person of color I am. But I don’t want any part in the India Rising phenomenon, either. I think it’s a cruel joke, a lie. Most of India is sinking. Most of India has no drinking water, no electricity. The pollution, air, water, roads. Bombay is going from bad to worse, so I moved to Delhi. The class divide isn’t as stark, and the poor people in Delhi look healthier than the ones in Bombay.
How did your life change when you moved back to India and started living as a writer?
My family, they have been my champions of my writing. My sister and mother have been supportive. My father bought me a flat in Bangalore but I had to make choices. I rented it out and lived small in Bombay, now in Delhi. My habits changed. I earn from my writing today. When I started the book, I gave away my TV, had no Internet, newspapers, and no Facebook. I also had a wife but by the end of it, I had no wife, no children, no dog. It’s not a good way to live, but for writing it’s okay.
What made you move out from the city that was your muse?
Bombay itself has changed enormously over the years. It’s very difficult to get anything done in a day, forget about writing. The whole vibe has changed. It has divided communities according to religion and ethnicity. Entire neighborhoods. You can’t buy a house in a certain area if you are a Christian or a flat in a certain building if you are a Muslim. There are buildings that are vegetarian and they don’t want meat or anything non-vegetarian being cooked in it. It’s ridiculous. Delhi is softer, less brutal than Bombay.
What about your music?
The band, Sridhar and I, there’s only two of us. We’ve been around for almost four years, playing Funk and Blues. We came out with our album, STD, which is also what we call ourselves. We made the cover and the design ourselves and printed it on paper because that way, it doesn’t cost much. But I don’t’ think I’m a great artist, I’m not a good musician, but I know I can write well.
What hopes do you have for the Booker Prize?
I don’t expect to win. This year the list is very strong. Each long-listed book is amazing.
Related story
Department of Drug Administration issues notice regarding drug...
