How we cite our quotes: Citations follow this format: (Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #7
The sowing of seed disciplines the body and the sprouting of the seed uplifts the spirit, but there is nothing to equal the rich satisfaction of a gathered harvest… (17.9)
Ruku is continually hurt by the drought as it slowly kills her loved ones. Here we see her tactic for endurance: she constantly rationalizes, as though her interaction with the land is part of her own personal development. This kind of rationalization may be dangerous, but it is perhaps the only way Ruku can survive against these terrible odds. The rich harvest is not a given consequence of discipline and an uplifted spirit, it’s just a joyous coincidence that has more to do with luck than with anything else.
Quote #8
This is one of the truths of our existence as those who live by the land know: that sometimes we eat and sometimes we starve. We live by our labours from one harvest to the next, there is no certain telling whether we shall be able to feed ourselves and our children, and if bad times are prolonged we know we must see the weak surrender their lives and this fact, too, is within our experience. In our lives there is no margin for misfortune. (23.58)
Ruku recognizes that the yield of the land is rather arbitrary – sometimes it delivers and sometimes it doesn’t. When she’s frank like this with us, it puts the rest of her philosophical talk about the religious value of suffering and endurance in perspective. It’s as though she knows, deep down, that this isn’t about a moral or philosophical life, but about simply feeding one’s family. The moral and philosophical stuff is just a way to deal with the arbitrarily cruel forces of nature, almost a self-delusional pacification, and Ruku seems to concede that here.
Quote #9
With each passing day the longing for the land grew; our plans were forged against a background of brown earth and green fields and the ripe rustling paddy, not, curiously, as they were, but as we had first known them… fresh, open and unspoilt, with their delicate scents and sounds untainted, with skies clear above them and the birds finding sanctuary in the grasses. And at the same time, keeping pace with these longings, our distaste for the city grew and grew and became a sweeping, pervading hatred. (27.9)
Ruku and Nathan’s remoteness from their land has allowed them to romanticize it – they think of it fondly because they only remember the good times there, not the bad times that drove them to the city in the first place. They’re basically suffering from emotional and economic dislocation, and they use their dislocation from the land as a proxy for their frustrations. They well know that Nature is not a magically happy place, and returning to it will not solve anything, but while they’re away from it, they can dream of it being better than it actually was, because it’s definitely better than where they are now. (Or is it?).