His novel, Shadow Lines, had made Khushwant Singh exult, ‘this is how a story should be told, this is how a novel should be written’. Amitav Ghosh is now in the uppermost echelons of Indian writing and can confidently claim to be a world-novelist. His last book The Hungry Tide won the Hutch Crossword Award in 2004 in the best Indian English novel category. He was in Mumbai recently to announce the shortlist for this year’s awards. Sayandeb Chowdhury spoke to him about his novels, Indian writing in general and on Indian democracy. 

Are you happy with the response to The Hungry Tide?

Yes absolutely. It has been extremely well received, though Indian readers respond to the novel in ways that readers abroad don’t. That’s true for most of my novels. But for The Hungry Tide, many have told me that they have been moved by the incidents at Morichjhapi in Sunderbans. I am very glad to hear that. Nothing is more important for a novelist. 

Your narratives usually employ at least one outsider, like Kanai Dutt/Piya Roy in The Hungry Tide who sees the perspective as the reader might like to. Is that a conscious decision? 

Yes, I think when we tell a story we need to have one narrative voice that resists closure. If everyone involved sees the world in relatively narrower way, the narrative suffers. The wider aspect is necessary, both from the reader’s perspective as well as that of the novel. 

The chronicling of the history of Sunderbans in The Hungry Tide have been widely appreciated. Why was it not done earlier? 

I don’t know. But I feel very strongly about the way an entire habitation was destroyed and that too in a state which leans towards the left. Moreover, Sunderbans is a very fragile ecosystem. It must be protected. The Irrawaddy dolphin is also in dire need of protection. 

The Glass Palace, Calcutta Chromosome or The Hungry Tide employ an epic vision; they travel across countries and/or involves sweeping landscapes and scenes. Is that another reason for that wider vision? 

Absolutely. But on the other hand are we not outsiders in most of our endeavours? I am and will be an outsider in the Sunderbans always, even if I stay there for decades. That is how it is. And writers often write about things as observers. But the epic vision that you talk about is not only about observation. It involves the need to tell a story grandly. 

But is that the case for Indian novelists in general? Aren’t they dominated by an introverted domesticity? 

I must say that excessive domesticity is stifling at times. As if there is nothing bigger than family histories. But that is the way one writes. You cannot blame them for that. It is a drawback but only at times. 

Tell me what you genuinely feel about contemporary Indian writing in English. 

It’s very healthy, believe me. A few decades ago, it would be difficult to find a few books by Indians in an entire shelf. But now you have entire shelves dedicated to them. This is very robust sign I must say. There is a debut novel every week and some of them are brilliant stuff. Like Alka Saraogi’s Kali-katha Via Bypass.

What about the reception that Indian writing is getting abroad? 

Oh, it’s getting better by the day. A decade ago there would hardly be a couple of Indian faces in a reading session in say a small town in America or a Swiss town. Now Indians are so visible. And they react, respond and interact gladly. 

Bengali readers have been quick to point out that a resident, ‘vernacular’ writer should have written about Sunderbans, rather than you. Does it make you sad to feel that however much strongly you feel about your native state and country, you will always be an outsider? 

Yes, I have felt it many times. And it’s not that it has not saddened me. But not anymore. Kolkata and Bengal are always my milieu and will be. So it’s always nice to find acceptance among my peers. I hope the more informed and intelligent readers will soon accept the fact that language is the least decisive factor in a novel as long as it is written with integrity. 

The Hungry Tide is also being translated to Bengali, right? Which other of your books have been translated before? 

Yes. A guy in Kolkata is translating the book. He is doing a fine job. But I am not happy with the translation of Shadow Lines that was supervised by Sahitya Academy. It’s difficult to know what they are doing, how things are done. And most importantly, it’s a shoddy job and the translated version hardly reaches the people. That’s very annoying. 

There was a plan to film the book. What about it? 

Oh, it somehow fizzled out. Now and then I receive a letter or two proposing to film this novel or the other. A Kolkata-based theatre director has plans to make The Hungry Tide into a film. I hope he goes ahead with his plans. 

You have conducted literary workshops. Do they help?

Last year I conducted one at Jadavpur University in Kolkata. And believe me I was amazed. No less than three books have emerged from the workshop. It’s so enriching. 

Any more non-fiction on the way? 

No. A non-fiction work is always born out of a need to react to something. I don’t see anything around at the moment. But you can never say.