The God of Small Things, Arundhati Roy
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Arundhati Roy

The God of Small Things

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Olga Khvan
Olga Khvanmembuat kutipan3 tahun yang lalu
is curious how sometimes the memory of death lives on for so much longer than the memory of the life that it purloined.
Julia
Juliamembuat kutipantahun lalu
If he touched her, he couldn’t talk to her, if he loved her he couldn’t leave, if he spoke he couldn’t listen, if he fought he couldn’t win.

Who was he, the one-armed man? Who could he have been? The God of Loss? The God of Small Things? The God of Goose Bumps and Sudden Smiles? Of Sourmetal Smells—like steel bus-rails and the smell of the bus conductor’s hands from holding them?
Alexandra
Alexandramembuat kutipan19 hari yang lalu
If they hurt Velutha more than they intended to, it was only because any kinship, any connection between themselves and him, any implication that if nothing else, at least biologically he was a fellow creature—had been severed long ago. They were not arresting a man, they were exorcizing fear. They had no instrument to calibrate how much punishment he could take. No means of gauging how much or how permanently they had damaged him.
Alexandra
Alexandramembuat kutipan19 hari yang lalu
Feelings of contempt born of inchoate, unacknowledged fear—civilization’s fear of nature, men’s fear of women, power’s fear of powerlessness.
Man’s subliminal urge to destroy what he could neither subdue nor deify
Alexandra
Alexandramembuat kutipan19 hari yang lalu
eelings of contempt born of inchoate, unacknowledged fear—civilization’s fear of nature, men’s fear of women, power’s fear of powerlessness.
Alexandra
Alexandramembuat kutipan19 hari yang lalu
A sparrow lay dead on the back seat. She had found her way in through a hole in the windscreen, tempted by some seat-sponge for her nest. She never found her way out. No one noticed her panicked car-window appeals. She died on the back seat, with her legs in the air. Like a joke.
Alexandra
Alexandramembuat kutipan22 hari yang lalu
From below the scanty curtain that was stretched across the doorway that led directly onto the street came the relentless slip-slap of disembodied feet in slippers. The noisy, carefree world of Those with Nothing Up Their Noses.
Alexandra
Alexandramembuat kutipan23 hari yang lalu
Of the four things that were Possible in Human Nature, Rahel thought that Infinnate Joy sounded the saddest. Perhaps because of the way Chacko said it.
Infinnate Joy. With a church sound to it. Like a sad fish with fins all over.
A cold moth lifted a cold leg.
Alexandra
Alexandramembuat kutipan23 hari yang lalu
Anything’s possible in Human Nature,’ Chacko said in his Reading Aloud voice. Talking to the darkness now, suddenly insensitive to his little fountain-haired niece. ‘Love. Madness. Hope. Infinite joy.’
Alexandra
Alexandramembuat kutipanbulan lalu
id it.
Perhaps it was just a lack of hesitation. An unwarranted assurance. In the way he walked. The way he held his head. The quiet way he offered suggestions without being asked. Or the quiet way in which he disregarded suggestions without appearing to rebel.
Alexandra
Alexandramembuat kutipanbulan lalu
Memory was that woman on the train. Insane in the way she sifted through dark things in a closet and emerged with the most unlikely ones—a fleeting look, a feeling. The smell of smoke. A windscreen wiper. A mother’s marble eyes. Quite sane in the way she left huge tracts of darkness veiled. Un-remembered.
Alexandra
Alexandramembuat kutipanbulan lalu
This was the trouble with families. Like invidious doctors, they knew just where it hurt.
Alexandra
Alexandramembuat kutipanbulan lalu
So Small God laughed a hollow laugh, and skipped away cheerfully. Like a rich boy in shorts. He whistled, kicked stones. The source of his brittle elation was the relative smallness of his misfortune. He climbed into people’s eyes and became an exasperating expression.
Alexandra
Alexandramembuat kutipanbulan lalu
He didn’t know that in some places, like the country that Rahel came from, various kinds of despair competed for primacy. And that personal despair could never be desperate enough. That something happened when personal turmoil dropped by at the wayside shrine of the vast, violent, circling, driving, ridiculous, insane, unfeasible, public turmoil of a nation. That Big God howled like a hot wind, and demanded obeisance. Then Small God (cosy and contained, private and limited) came away cauterized, laughing numbly at his own temerity. Inured by the confirmation of his own inconsequence, he became resilient and truly indifferent. Nothing mattered much. Nothing much mattered. And the less it mattered, the less it mattered. It was never important enough. Because Worse Things had happened. In the country that she came from, poised forever between the terror of war and the horror of peace, Worse Things kept happening.
hrishita28
hrishita28membuat kutipan3 bulan yang lalu
harbored a faint resentment against their parents for having diddled them out of a lifetime of free bus rides.
b1437299336
b1437299336membuat kutipan3 bulan yang lalu
If he touched her, he couldn’t talk to her, if he loved her he couldn’t leave, if he spoke he couldn’t listen, if he fought he couldn’t win.
b1437299336
b1437299336membuat kutipan3 bulan yang lalu
Their conversations surfaced and dipped like mountain streams. Sometimes audible to other people. Sometimes not.
b1437299336
b1437299336membuat kutipan3 bulan yang lalu
As Estha stirred the thick jam he thought Two Thoughts, and the Two Thoughts he thought, were these:

(a) Anything can happen to Anyone.

And

(b) It’s best to be prepared.
b1437299336
b1437299336membuat kutipan3 bulan yang lalu
She was their Ammu and their Baba and she had loved them Double.
b1437299336
b1437299336membuat kutipan3 bulan yang lalu
This was the trouble with families. Like invidious doctors, they knew just where it hurt.
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