Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts is widely renowned for being an epic, life-changing novel. Whilst reading I could hardly believe that the events in this book were in fact real and that the author had been honest and decent enough not to split them up into separate money making adventures. He could quite easily have made a whole franchise out of the main events in his life, but certainly this would not have captured the essence of his journey.
This brick of words begins with Roberts' arrival in then Bombay, and the introduction of honest, loyal Prabaker. Each of the people met and described seems to be perfectly suited to their moment, fulfilling unique and distinct roles in the testing of Roberts' morality, conscience and sometimes very being. Perhaps we as the reader are supposed to understand these qualities in terms of the author so that we can judge him, and perhaps that is exactly what he wants and therefore how he portrays them. Prabaker is the innocence and honesty Roberts craves. Karla is the love he desires and the distance he feels he should have from it. Living in the slum means that he cannot feel guilty for escaping prison, and opening the clinic provides a platform for redemption. The mafia is the gang he feels happiest in as he can be punished by telling himself that this is who he is and where he truly belongs and Khaderbhai is the father he longed for and the figure onto whom he can offload responsibility. Perhaps this is just my understanding of Roberts' journey, but I feel that we as the reader were meant to be a part of Roberts' process of self-exploration and ultimately forgiveness and this is why we are made to feel the way we do.
Don't get me wrong, I understand that this book is way beyond a critique or a judgement, especially mine. This is more than a novel or a memoir or a journal. This is literally a man's hopes, fears and life laid bare on paper. My copy of Shantaram certainly looks like it has been through Roberts' journey with him (it was so long that it took me a long time and a lot of mileage to read), but we must not forget the physical challenges that this book has endured as well as the author's own. I have no idea how it has emerged structured and flowing after supposedly being stolen and destroyed three times during the writing process, but this certainly helps to explain the thought and emotion that is clearly coherent throughout. With this much time, pain, adventure and emotional turmoil, there is more thought provoking material than most accomplished writers could ever hope to capture in one novel, yet this strangely poetic and charismatic criminal has won the hearts of millions.
But the main point must not be forgotten. Or the main point in my opinion anyway. For me this book seemed to cry out for approval. It implored me to see Roberts' flaws and his openness in admitting them yet forgive them. Every bone in my body, and indeed most people's, would instinctively judge this man a criminal, a drug addict and as violent. This is after all what he is, however much he tries to redeem himself by admitting it. And here I suppose is where I get stuck. I want to forgive him, and I want to feel sorry for him, yet the second half of the novel makes me do the opposite even though I can see his humanity and empathise with his pain. Perhaps this is what he wants?
