Although some aspects needed some more historical detail and language definitions this book opened my eyes up to how my ancestors fared living in India as part of the ruling minority. Just how tough it was and that the world then wasn't all about Rajahs with rubies, brightly colored cloth and tiger hunts. What surprised me most was that by learning about the culture of the times, it gave me...
more Although some aspects needed some more historical detail and language definitions this book opened my eyes up to how my ancestors fared living in India as part of the ruling minority. Just how tough it was and that the world then wasn't all about Rajahs with rubies, brightly colored cloth and tiger hunts. What surprised me most was that by learning about the culture of the times, it gave me the answers to many of the behaviours and attitudes of my father, grandparents and other family members that I had either never questioned before, or had found odd, archaic, even vainglorious. The book gave context and meaning to the way they were, to an Australian girl growing up in an Australian culture that had nothing of India (except the occassional cricket match)in it's culture. I hadn't intended it to, but the surprise of the book is it helped me make peace, heal, and even forgive various family members for seemingly stupid, immature or pompous behaviour. Not that any of it was necessarily right or righteous: the book does not gloss over the imperialistic and sometimes cruel attitude of the memsahibs and sahibs. However like anyone, they were a product of their particular culture, with their particular challenges that does not always translate well in a new land. What more when they flee to Australia where their ways jolt against the Australian, "mateship" and "fair go" and "she'll be right mate" credo. My own Grandmother did not learn to cook until the age of 65, because she was forced to. There are no servants for the middle class in Australia. Fortunately, a happily creative challenge to her, but created confusion and changing self-identity at an age when others are more self assured in their role, and retiring.
But unlike Greek, Italian, Asian or Slovakian immigrants about whom great libraries of work are written and receive media attention, the remnants of the Raj are little known in popular culture in Australia.
Had I not read this book, I might've died still assuming that personality idiosyncracies or character flaws explained certain attitudes and behaviours. Gratefully, I now see that the ideas I found unusual in individuals were, in fact, commonplace without question to these people and their times. There's nothing like a bit of background and insight to produce forgiveness and peace.
hide