The Interview and To Alice

The Interview (God of Small Things paper - option A)

I called God to request an interview. I’ve never been a very religious person, I just never really felt the “spirit” or something, but my editor, Truman, gave me the assignment. I called, but God didn’t answer. I got a voicemail.

“Thank you for calling God. We’re sorry no one is available to take your call. To leave a prayer for health, press one; for safety, press two; for prosperity, press three; for charity, press four;” I stopped paying attention and instead stared at the wall of my cubical, imagining the swirls of color into shapes and stories. “For homework or test assistance, press 2-star-5; for material possessions under $500, press 2-star-6; for material possessions over…” the voice trailed away again. How many different prayer request hotlines can there be?

I waited on the phone for over two hours, until the voice finally said “For options not listed, please stay on the line.” Followed by elevator music. I thought God would have something slightly more sophisticated, apparently not.

Maybe this is why no little kid gets a pony for their birthday: they didn’t call the hotline.

“Please leave your request after the tone. Thank you for contacting God.” Beep.

“Um, hello, this is Shannon Bryer, with the Weekly Sun. I’m calling to request an interview with God. Please call me back at 482-5938. Thank you.” I hung up the phone.

Of all the pointless assignments to be given. “Conduct an interview with God.” What am I supposed to say? “Hi God, how’re you today? Thanks a lot for the global warming. Why don’t you care about children being forced into war in Uganda? The genocide in Darfur? The whole situation in Myanmar? How do you feel about the countless millions starving to death? Or those being exploited and tricked into near-slavery in sweatshops?”

I can’t imagine that going well.

God’s secretary called me back the next morning to schedule the meeting. Either skeptics are given equal opportunity to talk with God, or he’s not omniscient after all. God could see me that afternoon for a two-hour interview. I suppose not many people try to meet with him in person.

I couldn’t decide if I was nervous. On one hand, I wouldn’t want to offend God, even if I’m not sure I believe in him. On the other hand, since God knows all my thoughts and acts anyway, why be nervous? It’s not like anything I do will be a surprise.

God’s building was downtown, in the heart of the hustle and bustle. I took the subway instead of driving; it’s not too bad to drive from the suburbs to the outskirts of the city, but getting downtown, parking, and getting back to the station would have been a nightmare.

I didn’t have much trouble finding the building. It’s one of those monstrous skyscrapers with reflective windows, and on a corner.

Finding God, though, was a different story. I asked the receptionist in the lobby to show me up, or page God, or somehow get me to where I was going. She gave me a small smile, and then held out her hand. I shook it, only trying to be polite, and repeated myself. “Hi, I’m Shannon Bryer, with the Weekly Sun. I have an appointment this afternoon to speak with God, would you mind showing me to his office?”

The woman laughed. “You’re already there. I’m God, very pleased to meet you.”

“No, ma’am,” I stammered. “I don’t think you’ve quite understood me. I really have an appointment to speak with God, and need to get to his office soon. I’d rather not wait long; I don’t want to be late. Would it be possible for you to page him?” I was certain by her smiling that this woman was insane. That, or she didn’t really know who she worked for, and thought that I was crazy.

“No, Shannon, I don’t think you’ve quite understood me. I’m who you came to see. I’m God.”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but there must be some mistake,” I stepped toward the elevators. “I’ll just go try to find him myself. I’m sure somebody will be able to help me.” I pressed the call button.

“Well, alright, if you want to go about it the hard way. I’ll wait here for you.”

The elevator light lit, a sharp ding pierced my ears. “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I choked before stepping on.

Inside the elevator, I stared at the panel of buttons. Which floor is God most likely to have his office on? I closed my eyes and jabbed at the panel; twelve, the floor twelve button glowed, and the elevator moved almost painfully slowly.

The doors finally opened onto a small corridor, facing a glass wall. A woman, the receptionist I assumed, smiled and greeted me as I walked through the door.

“Good afternoon. How may I help you today?”

“Hi, I’m Shannon Bryer. I’m scheduled for a meeting this afternoon with God. Would you happen to know where his office is?” She laughed, which I couldn’t help but take as a bad sign.

“I don’t know how you could have missed her. She was waiting for you at the desk downstairs.”

“What?”

“You’ve already met God. Partly, at least.”

“Partly? I’ve partly met God?”

“Well, yes. Go back downstairs, she’ll explain everything.”

By this point I was getting angry. The last thing I felt up for today was a wild goose chase. How hard could it be to find God? “Look, I have a very important meeting scheduled with God. Would you please just show me to his office?” I snapped.

The woman gave me a blank look. “She’s downstairs waiting for you. You can run around this building all day, but it’s not going to get you anywhere. Why are you so reluctant to believe it’s her?”

I didn’t know what to say. “Because God would not be sitting at a receptionist’s desk.”

“What makes you think that?”

“He just wouldn’t. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just go find him myself.”

“You’re welcome to try, but she’s waiting for you downstairs so that would be pointless.” I stopped. If she were right, I’d be wasting my time looking for God, but how could God be that woman at the front desk? She was small and pale, looked like she could use a good meal and a trip to the spa. Certainly that couldn’t be God. He must have been somewhere else; they must have been trying to trick me.

I took the woman’s advice, though. I went back to the lobby, to find the same small woman sitting there. As I approached her, she gave me the same look an adult might give a little child who has made the very mistake they had just been warned about.

“Hello again,” she greeted me. “I see you took her advice and came back?”

I stopped short. “How did you know about that?”

She laughed and pointed to a monitor on her desk, showing scenes from each floor. “I watched,” she said.

I regained my composure and looked her in the eye. “So, why should I believe that you’re God? You don’t look like God. I doubt God would have a job as a receptionist. And now I really am late for my appointment, so please, either take me to God’s office or prove to me that I’m already there.”

“I don’t have an office,” she replied, still smiling.

“Fine. But you are God, right?” I was certain that this was going to be the worst two hours of my life. The most irritating, if nothing else.

“Yes, in a sense.”

“In a sense? In a sense!” I was ready to leave. Truman could write the piece himself; I wasn’t putting up with this.

“Hey, relax for a minute. You’re supposed to be interviewing me. Go ahead, ask a question.”

“Why should I believe that you’re God?”

“Why shouldn’t you?”

“Because you’re a receptionist. Why would God be his own receptionist?

She shrugged. “I’m the managing receptionist. Does that make it better? I’m the head of something, do you believe me now?”

“No. Where do you live?”

“In an apartment across town, why?”

“Why not a mansion? Why wouldn’t God live in a mansion?”

“I don’t know. I’m happy with the small things; I’m not concerned about where I live. There are memories and little things in and around that apartment that make me happy.”

“Well, maybe you’re God in your own little universe, but I certainly don’t think you are.”

“I’m sure some people would agree with you, but some people would call me God.”

“Like who?”

“My little kids, probably. Or the girls across the hall who I baby-sit every weekend.”

“Having little kids think you’re great doesn’t mean you’re God.”

She just shrugged again, unfazed by any of my questions. “Maybe it doesn’t to you. That’s fine.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. For a moment I just stared at her in silence. “Would you please tell me where I can find God? I really need to get to this meeting.”

She laughed. “I don’t think you’re going to find who you’re looking for here. I’m sorry.”

I was furious, but there was nothing I could do. So I simply left.

Question: What makes Velutha the God of Small Things?

Answer One: Of all the small things, he is the biggest. Velutha has an enormous amount of impact and influence for an untouchable; despite the caste system, Velutha is given some authority and respect in the Paradise Pickles company. “Mammachi rehired Velutha as the factory carpenter and put him in charge of general maintenance. It caused a great deal of resentment among the other Touchable factory workers because, according to them, Paravans were not meant to be carpenters. And certainly, prodigal Paravans were not meant to be rehired.” (Roy 74). He makes more money than a Paravan would, and was even put through a school for untouchables by Mammachi. “Mammachi persuaded Vellya Paapen to send him [Velutha] to the Untouchables School that her father-in-law Punnyan Kunju had founded.” (Roy 72). Education and success, however, are seen as negatives in an untouchable, making them unsafe. “Unlike Velutha, Kuttappen [his brother] was a good, safe Paravan. He could neither read nor write.” (Roy 197). It was hinted at throughout the book that Velutha’s confidence, skill, and education caused him problems, even with his father. “Perhaps it was just a lack of hesitation. An unwarranted assurance. … While these were qualities that were perfectly acceptable, perhaps even desirable, in Touchables, Vellya Paapen thought that in a Paravan they could (and would, and indeed, should) be construed as insolence.” (Roy 73). Velutha is given a remarkably high status for his caste, and, though it causes him a great deal of trouble, it makes him the biggest, or the God, of the small things (those in society within a low caste, specifically, the untouchables).

Connection: Perhaps Velutha is the biggest of small things, the most highly thought-of untouchable, because he has fulfilled his proper function. “In speaking of the proper function of a given individual we mean that it is the same in kind as the function of an individual who sets high standards for himself.” (Aristotle 8). Velutha, despite his low caste, has received an education, is an accomplished carpenter, has a relatively well-paying job in the Paradise Pickles factory, and is loved by many people. It would be hard to say that he had not attained his proper function, since he is quite successful (as much as he could be, at least, given his low status in society). Maybe then he is the god of small things because, since he has “made something of himself,” so to say, he has fulfilled his proper function (and may be, therefore, happy).

Answer Two: He appreciates, and shows others (especially Ammu), to appreciate the small things. Being an untouchable, Velutha obviously has none of the “big things,” such as a house, or even less concrete ideas such as social respect (outside of the Paradise Pickles company) or equality. He does, however, seem to be happy with the small things, and teaches Ammu to do the same. “Instinctively they stuck to the Small Things. The Big Things ever lurked inside. They knew that there was nowhere for them to go. They had nothing. No future. So they stuck to the small things.” (Roy 320). Ammu and Velutha’s relationship can go nowhere, they can’t dream of a future together, marriage, or even have a true courtship. They only have the small things, their nights together, small jokes, but nothing more to dream of or wait for. “They laughed at ant-bites on each other’s bottoms, at clumsy caterpillars…at the minute spider who lived in a crack in the wall of the back verandah of the History House and camouflaged himself by covering his body with bits of rubbish.” (Roy 320). Throughout their brief affair, Velutha and Ammu have only the small things to look forward to, and Velutha shows Ammu to appreciate simply that.

Connections: “The poor man’s farthing is worth more/Than all the gold on Afric’s shore.” (Blake, Auguries of Innocence). Like Velutha and Ammu’s relationship and subsequent appreciation for the small things, Blake suggests that, when you have little (either by being monetarily/physically poor, or simply having no future to look to), whatever pleasures or joys you do have (“the poor man’s farthing,” a relationship based on momentary bliss and small lighthearted jokes because a future, any lasting love, is not possible within the society) become infinitely important. The spider in the History House, “Choppu Thamburan, Velutha called him. Lord Rubbish,” (Roy 320) becomes very important to Velutha and Ammu for that reason; it is a small thing, which like their love may not last long because of external hardships, but means the world to them. When you don’t have much, the small things you do have are immensely important.

This is also supported by Velutha’s genuine appreciation for the small things. Instead of convincing himself that he “can sleep naked on the ground and eat grass,” (Chekhov 76) and still be happy, Velutha truly appreciates what he has and wants no more. He doesn’t revel in his poverty, he finds happiness in small wonders despite it.

Answer Three: The children adore him. I’m not being facetious; Velutha is loved by Estha and Rahel, who are the small things of this book (in size, of course, and also in impact and relevance to the other characters—they’re regarded as just children by much of the family, not very important or influential) (except, of course, by their mother and Velutha). “‘Who’s Velutha?’ Sophie Mol wanted to know. ‘A man we love,’ Rahel said.” (Roy 144). Several times throughout the book, the twins refer to Velutha as someone that they love, and are obviously very close to him. “They visited him in saris, clumping gracelessly through red mud and long grass …It is only now, these years later, that Rahel with adult hindsight recognized the sweetness of that gesture. A grown man entertaining three raccoons, treating them like real ladies.” (Roy 181). He plays with the twins, helping them fix the boat they found (and teaching them to do so themselves, “he showed them how to follow the grain of the wood. He started them off with the sandpapering.” [Roy 203]). Velutha loves, helps, and plays with the children when no one else will (everyone is doting on Sophie Mol and Margaret Kochamma, etc.), making him the god of small things (children and children’s emotional needs, in this case).

To Alice (Good Terrorist paper - option A)

If, like a child, you go on denying
Those basic parts of life, then who
Is to stop you?
Perpetually nine years old, disgusted
With reality and grit and grime,
Throwing your tantrums still and
Never learning to self-sooth or self-rely,
You’ll go on, for who is to stop you?
And if you’re not a child, but a lover
Why try convincing yourself otherwise?
Yet nothing would change, so I suppose
Denial is the easier route
(we all want that juicy steak once in a while).
But as nothing more than a friend
To your love, wouldn’t you search
For another after all these years?
(After all, you’re older now,
If you want children don’t hesitate any longer).
You think you gain purity in your lie
But try so hard to convince yourself
That we all see through your deception.
Or, still, do you see your denial noble,
As an ascetic denies her comfort?
After all, you wouldn’t want to shame
Your profession.
You’d destroy your purpose with
Such a realization, so go on.
Tell yourself (and all of us),
Allow yourself to be disgusted
If doing so should let you
Reach some higher purpose.

Question:Why is Alice so averse to sexuality?

Answer One: Alice is immature, and therefore still holds childlike views of sex. Very few children are not disgusted by the idea of sex, and this is typically seen as a natural stage in their life. However, most people grow out of this during their life and become comfortable, if not enthusiastic, with the thought of human sexuality. Alice, however, is 36 years old and still disgusted by it. Throughout the novel, Alice often comes off as quite younger than she truly is. In the end, she is described as “looking this morning like a nine-year-old girl who has had, perhaps, a bad dream…” (Lessing 375). Alice demonstrates very typical childish behavior: honestly believing that her parents have infinite amounts of money, and that it is their obligation to give it to her, and hers to fairly take (“She must get money. She must. … Her father. But he must give it to me. He’s got to!” [Lessing 76]), throwing temper tantrums (“An hour or so ago, she had seen a stone of the right size and shape…and had put it into her pocket. … As she reached her father’s house, she walked straight in at the gate, which she hardly bothered to open quietly, and flung the stone as hard as she could at the glass of the bedroom window…. She heard the shattering glass, a scream, her father’s shout. [Lessing 130-131]), and getting disproportionally upset over rather minor and fixable problems (“There was a dead bird on the floor. It stank. Alice began to cry from pure rage.” [Lessing 5]. Several times throughout the book, Alice cries at something small—dirt in a corner, an overturned bird nest—much like children do. She is unable to put small problems into perspective and deal with them; she is overwhelmed by what most adults would deal with and move on.). Since Alice is already so childish, it is not difficult to believe that she is so disgusted by the notion of sex because of her mental and psychological immaturity.

Answer Two: Alice is very much in love with Jasper, and since a sexual relationship with him is impossible she convinces herself that she doesn’t want sex. When questioned by Theresa about why she doesn’t leave Jasper and find a more “real” relationship, Alice answers “‘I love Jasper….I love him. Why don’t you understand? I don’t care—about what you care about. Love isn’t just sex.’” (Lessing 34-35). She sees and thinks of him as though they were a couple. “Jasper and Alice had been lying tense; now they relaxed and lay companionably silent, and Alice was thinking: We are together. … This is like a marriage: talking together before going to sleep.” (Lessing 83) Throughout the novel, Alice strongly asserts her disdain toward sexuality. If Alice truly isn’t interested in sex, why does she think about it so much? She’d do so less if she were truly uninterested, instead, she is merely trying to convince herself, and those around her, that she wants no part of a sexual relationship (odd, for a thirty-six year old woman). She seems to catch herself almost enjoying slightly sexual situations with Comrade Andrew, which would suggest that she isn’t nearly as disgusted with sex as she would like to be. “Now she lay close beside him, and his hot strong body began to send waves of sensation through her. She was fascinated and disgusted. She kept her eyes straight up at the ceiling, for she knew what she would see if she looked down along his body. She wasn’t going to get involved with that, … they were lying in such a way that his hard protrusion was kept from her, so she didn’t mind it.” (Lessing 231-232). She allows Comrade Andrew to touch her, though she says that she hates being touched. This does seem to say that she isn’t as averse to sexuality as she claims to be, and is merely trying to convince herself.

Connection: This struck me as very similar to Vera’s relationship with Father Hugh in Mary Lavin’s “Happiness.” Both relationships have an odd, almost non-relationship quality to them. Though the members of each non-couple care for and love each other, sexuality is—quite deliberately—left out. The relationships seem more than just friendship (shown by Alice’s professions of love for Jasper and, most notably in “Happiness,” the final scene wherein Father Hugh is described as behaving like a lover, not a friend: “‘Vera!’ he called. ‘Vera!’—sternly, so sternly that, more intimate than an endearment, his tone shocked us.” [Lavin 46]). Perhaps Alice feels that her love for Jasper is made stronger because sex is not an issue between them, as Vera and Father Hugh seem to believe (Father Hugh’s being a priest, and therefore taking a vow of celibacy to keep such perceived impurities from his life and relationships, is a testament to that).

Answer Three: It would be a bad idea to bring children into the cause. Alice doesn’t want sex because, as we all know, having sex can lead to having babies, which could be bad for the cause. I’ve never tried it, but I imagine that it would be difficult to raise a child in a squat and still continue to participate in political activities. When she realizes that some people will probably bring their children to the CCU Congress “reminded of the thorns and snags of the thickets of principle … [she] sent off a second batch of letters in all directions to say that children could not come.” (Lessing 212). Having children around could obviously hinder a revolutionary in their work for the cause, so Alice sees it best to simply leave sex out of her life altogether and not risk it. The CCU is important to Alice; she was one of the originating members. “‘And you started the CCU?’ [asked Reggie]. ‘I was one of them. And Jasper Willis.’” (Lessing 98). Since the CCU means so much to Alice—she helped create it, she watched it turn into a small party, her beliefs and political feelings are shared within the party, etc—it is reasonable to believe that she wouldn’t want to compromise its livelihood by bringing children into the picture.

Connections: The Hunger Artist, too, would not threaten what means so much to him with something most see as an ordinary part of life. “…The initiates knew well enough that during his fast the artist would never in any circumstances, not even under forcible compulsion, swallow the smallest morsel of food; the honor of his profession forbade it. Not every watcher, of course, was capable of understanding this, there were often groups of night watchers who were very lax in carrying out their duties and deliberately huddled together in a retired corner to play cards with great absorption, obviously intending to give the hunger artist the chance of a little refreshment, which they supposed he could draw from some private hoard. Nothing annoyed the hunger artist more than such watchers; they made him miserable; they made his fast seem unendurable;” (Kafka 109). Alice is so disgusted by sexuality, especially when people question why she does not seek a sexual relationship, because she if deeply offended by the suggestion that she would risk her abilities and potentially hamper the cause in such a way, just as the hunger artist is offended by the suggestion that he would dishonor his profession.

This may also play into Alice’s proper function. “In speaking of the proper function of a given individual we mean that it is the same in kind as the function of an individual who sets high standards for himself [or herself].” (Aristotle 8). If Alice’s function is to be a revolutionary, then her proper function is to be a good revolutionary (or a good terrorist, perhaps?). Having a child in tow could greatly hamper her capacity to be a good (revolutionary or terrorist, whichever you prefer). Therefore, her proper function (and, by Aristotle’s reasoning, her ability to attain happiness) excludes the possibility of children (they would drag her down, be the “millstones round [her] neck” [Roy 240], so to say). Alice does not want anything to do with sex because it comes with the possibility of having children, which would destroy her proper function and thus her ability to be truly happy.