Book Review: Nectar in a Sieve

Title: Nectar in a Sieve

Author: Kamala Markandaya

Date: 1954

Publisher: John Day

ISBN: none

Length: 254 pages plus 1-page glossary

Quote: “'Whoever heard of a woman reader?' said Nathan... 'If I ask little, and less than the others, custom there will surely be,' said I.”

This is the fictional-autobiography of Rukmani, a Hindu widow. Perhaps all widows' stories are sad, and evoke pity; but Nectar in a Sieve is one of those Socialist Realist novels that were meant to make readers admire poor people with sad stories. Rukmani still has her children—well, some of them—and can still work.

She was married early. Though many people reach “peak fertility” in their teens, some people who try to have babies earlier don't have them until they are in their twenties; Rukmani was one of those. She and her husband worked hard as small farmers, earned a modest living, and reared most of their children to maturity, before they were displaced from their farm by “progress” in the nearby village. They went to town and found jobs. They didn't become rich, and her husband died. But Rukmani was taught to read and write, so as long as she has her eyesight, she has hope.

In some parts of India people may still be living this way. In some parts their lives are (and always were) much worse. In most of India it used to be traditional for widows to commit suicide, sometimes helped in that direction by greedy relatives, and although many widows did survive, the quality of life to which they had to look forward was thought to explain the suicides and murders. Most ended up as beggars or prostitutes. Few lived long. Rukmani, claiming two devoted children, is very very lucky, and she knows it. In a horrible way her story has a happy ending...

Readers are meant to like Rukmani and want to help her, and they will. I can offer the following insight: Don't fuss over people with Rukmani with the sort of pity and handouts that would be appropriate to offer an injured dog. Don't coo; don't say “You poor pitiful thing, I want to help you.” If they do have any inclination to curl up into little wads of self-pity, don't encourage it; if they don't, for pity's sake don't spread the disease. Always say, “I want to pay you for something you do.”

Fight against the commercial-media-embedded tendency to think that you're not meant to pay individuals for things they do, that all money should be electronically transferred to make sure you only ever buy commercially marketed products from big corporations. If the only marketable skill your needy neighbor has is hand writing, like Rukmani's, then what you don't need would be a computer. Unplug the computer and pay Rukmani to write letters for you! If you and your needy neighbor agree that your neighbor would be better off in a line of work that requires more of an investment, then by all means invest—but get comfortable with the word “invest.” Keep a record of what you've invested, and when the business becomes profitable, reclaim that money.

More than they need money—and they certainly do need money—people like Rukmani (and like the writer of this review) need solid connections with living people. Charity does not create a solid connection. Trade does. If you're still trying to be altruistic, in the name of common decency, get over yourself. Humans are self-serving; you're being self-serving, whether you want your neighbor to live and be well (in which case you want to trade, not donate), or whether you want to bloat your ego by “helping” your neighbor suffer and die.

Nectar in a Sieve does not absolutely have to be read as a call to action, of course. People in India and elsewhere still need fair wages for honest work, and the majority of people who read anything on the Internet are in a position to pay them. However, this novel was written in 1954, so it can be read as an historical event. It may actually be the first novel printed in English that was written about the Indian working class “from the inside,” as the Book of the Month Club claims. By now English-speaking audiences have some access to translations of books written in Hindi, Urdu, and Tamil, which were being written about the Indian working class “from the inside” long before 1954, but Nectar in a Sieve was a step across a bridge. It's worth reading just as a bit of history.

If you can read it that way...then the position of this web site is that you're either awfully uninformed, or else deliberately practicing a degree of detachment that has never been acceptable in Christianity (though it has been preached and practiced in some Hindu sects). I read it as a call to action, even though I am, relative to my time and place, not much better off than Rukmani. (Yes, that's your call to action, Gentle Readers. Buy it here. Support this web site.)

Lots of editions of Nectar in a Sieve are available on Amazon. Since the writer known as Kamala Markandaya can no longer benefit from its being offered here as a Fair Trade Book, you're doing her no harm if you pay less to one of the credit card customers who sell directly on Amazon. However, if you buy her book here, you'll get a gently used copy in good condition, you'll be encouraging living writers, and you can add at least three more books of this size to the same $5 package. Since Nectar in a Sieve has been a slow steady global bestseller, even vintage copies are still fairly cheap and the price to buy it here is still $5 per book plus $5 per package plus $1 per online payment.