Narrative and Poetic Forms - When the World Breaks Open

Miguel Cervantes

9/17/17

          There’s something unavoidably tragic in the way our intellect interprets matters of the heart.  Our intellect’s primary tools, logic and reason, develop into dependable, well-honed implements of perception which, ideally, work in harmony to govern our internal and external states.  This is our bedrock.  Yet the world we live in is not static, our lives not linear or assured, and in the many shifts our world makes – some minor trembles, others seismic in their enormity – we are forced to adapt in a way that draws upon our center, a place not just of intellect, but of heart.  For Seema Reza, the journey involves shifts that tear at the very core of her identity as a wife and mother, challenges that, at times, take her so far away from the domain of logic and reason that she feels, “A loneliness I had never before noticed.  A sense of being alone in my body.” (p. 95)

In Seema’s memoir, the experiences tearing away at her bedrock arise from places where intellect can assist her only so much.  The primary conflict in her life, her abusive, tumultuous relationship with her husband Karim, is a catalyst point – he is her escape from Dhaka, from a world she longed to leave behind.  From Karim comes freedom, modernity and family, a new life in the United States where Seema is allowed to experience the unfolding of an ideal world.   

Yet her husband’s anger is constant.  It boils beneath the surface of their relationship, rising up in torrents of anger that manifest into fierce arguments, recriminations and even physical abuse.  Yet for Seema, it is impossible to portray Karim as the sole arbiter of misery in her life.  He is not just ‘the bad guy’, he is her life partner, her lover, her mate, and as we learn more about their relationship it becomes clear that Seema is deeply conflicted over her devotion to Karim and the need to protect herself and her children. 

It’s tempting for us to immediately take sides, to see Karim as the bully, the unapologetic and self-serving antagonist.  There’s no doubt that he fills that role much of the time, but within Seema Reza’s reflections we can detect a much deeper understanding of her relationship, one that seeks not only to protect but to extract from her experience a knowing of herself that will buoy the spirit.  To experience this is one thing, but to communicate it to her readers is an entirely different task, something she accomplishes in two distinct ways. 

The first path is the more traditional one.  Using the structure of prose narrative, Reza gives us painstakingly honest glimpses into the fracture points of her relationship, those poignant moments when neither of them can hold back their loathing for one another.  This becomes clear right from the outset; our first introduction to Seema and Karim’s married life takes the form of a fight,

“Irritated, I snap at him once, then twice, and before I know it, it has spun out of control; he has snapped back and we are up all night.  I am pulled into his spiral as he dives into one argument after the other: grievances a decade old follow new accusations of wasteful spending and concerns over my immodest wardrobe choices.” (p. 5)

Reza’s description is very purposeful; what we read in the beginning will serve as the template for just about every argument the couple has.  Yet Reza is also very careful to frame her confrontations with Karim as not just a battle between husband and wife, but an inner turmoil, a conflict where her own intellect and rationale attempt to preserve a certain sanctity in their marriage, a rightness that can overlook the accusations and physical abuse.  Karim is not just her husband, he is a fury, one of the few forces in the world that can dash Reza’s bedrock and send her straight into turmoil.  This becomes more evident in the section titled, ‘Sanity’, where Reza shows us just how deeply connected – and tormented – her relationship with her husband is.

“I came home one night and his posture flipped a switch in me and set my insides on fire.  When I opened my mouth, I reduced him to ash.  It was more than I meant to say, but I couldn’t stop.  And when I saw how wild I was being – rage of that caliber is an out of body experience – I surrendered to it completely.” (p. 22)

Experiences like these are part and parcel of the destruction of Reza’s personal fairy tale, the deeply nurtured notion that she and her husband are still suited (or perhaps destined) for one another and that somehow they will make it work, reaching a point in their relationship where the storm will at last subside.  This goes straight to the heart of her inner conflict, for her intellect is constantly attempting to intervene in her struggles, telling her that she herself is not without flaws, that she can be hard to live with and that given her circumstances things might not be so bad, especially in comparison to others.

“He’s not so bad, I tell myself.  He never breaks a bone or blacks an eye.  I remind myself that I am difficult to live with, that it’s my fault as much as his.  Nobody’s perfect.” (p. 13)

And so the conflict is laid bare for us, in unflinching detail.  Reza’s honesty in this matter is refreshing.  The complexity of her relationship with Karim, her love for him, her loathing for him, her strong sense of identity as a wife, mother and provider, all of these things are swirling together in a state where she struggles to understand them as separate from her husband.  Emotions pour forth, intellect weighs in, and Reza is restrained.  The oceans calm.  Yet it is not long before tempers flare again and when the expected split does come, Reza communicates this part of life to us in a way that we probably didn’t expect.  She uses the language of poetry. 

The post-divorce world of Seema Reza is one of uncertainty and pain, something that is chronicled in pieces rather than as a steady, continuous flow.  The poems Reza presents here are full of insights – quiet moments where she reflects on the nature of womanhood, dark moments where she attempts to sooth the suffering of others, only to find herself taking in their pain atop her own.  She worries about the world her sons will come to know, how people will see them and wonders if they will stay safe.  Reza communicates these experiences through a selection of poems, journal entries and narrative prose, seamlessly interweaving them together to form a structure that feels dreamlike, disjointed and yet somehow unified.  Suffering, loss and separation form the core of her musings, but Reza faces these issues with the same honesty she uses to write about her marriage. 

“And the thing is, I can’t carry all their stones and no one stone is heavier than another and I wonder whether I busy myself with their stories so I can distract myself from the burden of their own.” (p. 53)

The poetry of these experiences, these relationships, helps us to realize that Reza is undergoing a period of intense self-reflection amidst the pain of her divorce and the reality of her new life working with severely wounded veterans in a military hospital.  These experiences tax her emotionally but also become catalysts of their own; through her work with veterans she begins to shake loose those pieces of bedrock in her own emotional core, leading her to a place where guilt and despair begin to shed their forlorn façade, allowing light to spill through the cracks.