The Immigrant by Manju Kapur

‘The Immigrant,’ in summary, follows the story and marriage of Nina, a thirty year old English lecturer in Delhi who moves to Canada, and of Ananda, a family acquaintance living in Canada after moving from Delhi 10 years ago. I found it to be a thought provoking read, and Kapur did not shy away from articulating uncomfortable themes at length. 

You are taken on a difficult journey of cultural change, societal pressures, loneliness, marriage, heartbreak and pain. The questionable choices that the characters made at times meant the story felt real and true to life – messy and complicated. I was left wanting to feel frustrated at the protagonists, yet hesitant, as I was shown why they did what they did throughout the book; their background, pathway in life and struggles. Essentially, how they got to where they were, their ‘humanness’… and although disheartened by how things turned out, I felt a tinge of relief as well in knowing that it was likely for the best. 

Everything that happens in life shapes who you are, and your happily ever after does not always have to be tied to being married, but in what you learn from your experiences in life and what you choose for yourself next. It’s in doing your best to do the right thing and show up for yourself. Our main protagonist Nina, truly showed resilience and what it is to be your own advocate. Throughout the novel, she went from being a vulnerable immigrant who relied solely on her husband, to an independent woman who held onto all of her aspirations, actively pursuing them despite the hurdles thrown her way. 

The experience of an immigrant was a major theme of course. The process of immigration to begin with was traumatic to witness vicariously. As the reader, you are made to feel the humiliation and disrespect Nina received, and the sheer amount of injustice and slurs from the immigration officers. She felt like an ‘illegal alien.’ 

‘He was coaxing her into accepting and then forgetting what had happened. If they lacked the ability to do this, they would never be able to enjoy their new country. The situation made them vulnerable, one could hardly start fighting with an immigration officer, deportation would be the certain result.’

It was also in the small moments, like the way her first experience of Canada was described. For example, at the grocery store. Rows upon rows upon rows of produce, the choice, the amount of stock and variety highlighted the wasteful consumerism lifestyle of the West. When she transitioned out of wearing a salwar kameez and into jeans, Kapur expresses the sadness of it; in favouring integration, one loses personal style and self-perception.

‘In all the time of wearing salwar kameez no one had accosted her. Now in jeans, she is accessible to the whole city.’

She also had to adjust to the way family relationships worked in the West. How distant and lonely life was, because visits to Ananda’s only other relative in Canada, his uncle, were few and far between; a stark contrast to life back home with her mother. Maintaining a vegetarian diet, making friends and the dynamics of friendship, and even simply the vastness of Canada compared to crowded Delhi were all also moments that showed the difficulties faced during a cultural change, or rather, experiencing a culture shock. 

It felt like Kapur explored both Nina and Ananda’s relationship with commitment, sex, expectations in married life through this heightened isolation of being in another country, away from everything and everyone they knew. Away from who they were, their values, their lifestyle. Nina in particular, as Ananda already had 10 years in Canada, had the task of not only adjusting to a new country but also a new life with a husband, a Canadian husband. He’s Indian, from a good family, has a good job, a decent home in his name, charming and good looking, but that doesn’t excuse him from having insecurities and shortcomings, little did she know. And what a task it came to be. How much loneliness she felt, the lack of an emotional connection, doing her best to handle his bruised ego and masculinity, only to be met with the challenge of answering the question of how far should one go to salvage a relationship that barely began. What is too much of a sacrifice, how much patience, time and effort trying to make it work, where’s the line? How much should one endure?

‘These two that fate had brought together through death and marriage. Who did they have besides each other?’

This was where the hesitation came in, because even though infidelity is clearly never right, in truth, it’s almost never out of pure evilness. Rather, in this case, it was down to the complex nature of the situation and its entanglement with insecurity, unrequited needs, pride and frustration. Although they were disappointing choices, Kapur made their thought processes and mindsets very clear, and it became difficult for me to not hold some level of sympathy for Nina, and at least understand where Ananda was emotionally and mentally. The impact their decisions had on their wellbeing, the kind of reactions it evoked, and the whirlwind of other devastating occurrences that happen – rape, death of a loved one, and lengthy periods of distance away from each other, all came together to build up to what I found to be the most suitable ending. 

‘Perhaps that was the ultimate immigrant experience. Not that any one thing was steady enough to attach yourself to for the rest of your life, but that you found different ways to belong, ways not necessarily lasting, but ones that made your journey less lonely for a while…For an immigrant there was no going back.’