The last few weeks have been fraught with talks of endings. The first was The Ending of the Year 2012 (which is still impending), then came The Ending of the World (a hoax that we all enjoyed partying over), and then the worst of all The Ending of Humanity, I am sure everyone is acquainted with the Delhi rape case. It is one face of the present time I have not been able to reconcile with yet. And yet it is the harshest reality in today’s date, along with the many more cases that have resurfaced to focus in this world of shifty focal point and short attention span. The on-going protests, campaigning and demand for better laws is commendable. I hope we are all together in supporting it.
Life, however, exists in different planes. As these grievous incidents scarred lives in one part of the country I was engrossed in my own cocoon which happened to be on berth no 43, Brahmaputra Mail, unaware reading a book called The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes. This 27 hour long journey was made interesting as my companion, Mr Anthony Webster, narrated me an engaging tale. The narrator was himself was so thoroughly confused that he confused me entirely, almost until the end when The Sense of an Ending ends without ending. But this is only because nothing truly ends.
Even this story was about a kind of ending, the ending of life, suicide and the many effects that it leaves behind for the survivors of the suicide committed. These survivors are not people who tried the act and failed but those who were connected to the perpetuator of the successful act of taking one’s own life. In short the novel is about finding closure and the reason for the suicide of the narrator’s school friend Adrian who ended his life while still at university. Who was responsible for the loss of such a brilliant figure? This is the question that haunts the narrator, the characters as well as the reader.
We witness two suicides in the novel, that of Robson and that of Adrian. The second is only a heightened version of the first, however, because of the possibility of greatness in the latter character his actions inherit the same potential in the eyes of the observer. Mr Webster, the narrator, is the man who “never got it”. But who can understand the dynamics that go on in another person’s head? We all operate on constructed perspectives, which are either based on one’s own views or that of others. In either case it has the potential of being miles away from the momentary thoughts of the subject who committed the action or underwent its ordeal.
I cannot say much more without disclosing the story and I do not want to spoil it for you. So I request you to please read it and then perhaps we can have an open discussion about it in the comments section here?
