The Covenant of Water

 

Beautiful, brilliant and flawed

IT TOOK ME quite a long time to get round to writing this review of Abraham Verghese’s The Covenant of Water. That is partly because some books are so vast and so densely packed with detail that it takes a little while for the reader or listener to find their way back to the real world. But it’s also because I wanted to be fair, and to put some distance between the frustration I found in listening to this absolute epic and the tricky business of coming to a conclusion about what I finally thought about it.

On the social media site formerly known as Twitter, I would have simply said: “Beautiful, brilliant, and flawed.” Here, I have the space to ask the question that was bugging me for much of the 31 hours and six minutes I spent listening to this book: “What on earth was Verghese’s editor doing?”

The story spans the years from 1900 to 1977 and is set in Kerala in south India. It follows three generations of a family that suffers from a ‘condition’ - in every generation at least one person dies by drowning. It begins at the turn of the century, with a 12-year old girl in an arranged marriage to a 40-year old widower. Against the odds, the marriage turns out well and towards the end of the tale the family uncovers the medical condition that has led to so many deaths. A parallel plot involving a damaged Scottish doctor weaves in and out of the main story.

Verghese is a gifted writer, and his recreation of life in an India that no longer exists seems both authentic and remarkable. This novel was an Oprah book club pick and an ‘instant New York Times best seller’, and it is good … except that at 715-pages it is way too long. So long, in fact, that the author seems to lose himself in the plot and mislay one or two characters for a while along the way.

The ‘condition’ that lies at the crux of the story goes unmentioned for many chapters, and at one point the Scottish surgeon disappears from the tale for so long that I almost forget about him. In fact, I’m quite surprised when he turns up again. And while the exhaustive detail helps create the ‘world’ of a long-lost Kerala, I began to wonder if I really needed to know precisely what spices went into making that particular curry on that particular day way back at the turn of the century. A blue pencil and - I’m guessing here - an editor less in awe of the author might have produced a better book.

Would I recommend it … yes, as I say it is beautifully written and it’s a fascinating insight into that particular time and place. But, be warned, like most stories that set out to be epics, it takes determination and sometimes quite a lot of focus to get to the end. It’s not for the faint hearted.

Verghese, who was born in Ethiopia to Indian parents and has made his career as a physician and professor of medicine in America, made the brave decision to read his own work for the audiobook. For the most part, he does it rather well - but his skills are sorely tested by the Scottish and Geordie accents he affects for a couple of the characters in conversation - there is little distinction between them. Or perhaps that’s just an American thing.

The Covenant of Water by Abraham Verghese is published by Grove Press (£20).