Synaptic

I was impressed by Kaity’s ability to analyze a difficult, encyclopedic text like Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children. One of Rushdie’s main ideas is that “To understand just one life, you have to swallow the world,” and he tries to incorporate the whole sub-continent of India into his 533-page novel! Kaity was able to find a thread in that elaborate tapestry and trace it through from beginning to end, thus illuminating the entire magic realist novel in the process. One can see an exemplary reader and writer in her essay.

– Michael Harris

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Although Saleem’s original intent is to tell his own story, he believes that in order to satisfactorily do so, he must also tell of all the other lives and stories that have impacted him: “I have been a swallower of lives; and to know me, just the one of me, you’ll have to swallow the lot as well” (4). I think one of the more interesting stories interwoven with Saleem’s is the tale of Shiva, the fellow midnight child with whom Saleem was switched at birth. Shiva is aptly named after Hinduism’s major god of creation and destruction (Cartwright). He serves as a foil to Saleem throughout the novel and Saleem is acutely aware of their strong connection. Toward the end of his story he remarks, “Shiva and Saleem, victor and victim: understand our rivalry, and you will gain an understanding of the age in which you live (the reverse of this statement is also true)” (Rushdie 515). Examining their individual upbringings is essential to understanding how they are each “victor and victim” and why they have such opposing outlooks on life. Furthermore, Saleem and Shiva’s different viewpoints balance each other out by portraying the optimism and pessimism in Midnight’s Children. In the end, I believe Rushdie disproves the idea that you can be “anything you want to be” in life, however by incorporating traits of both characters he creates a hopeful outlook for the future of India (148).

Although Saleem and Shiva seem to represent oppositions, their lives are very intertwined. M. Keith Booker observes that Rushdie often constructs dual oppositions with characters “only to deconstruct [them] by demonstrating that apparent polar opposites are in fact interchangeable and mutually interdependent” (978). For example, when Ramram Seth prophesizes to Amina, it’s interesting to note that he accurately predicts Saleem’s life even though it’s Shiva who is in her belly. Ramram declares, “‘There will be two heads—but you shall see only one—there will be knees and a nose, a nose and knees’” (Rushdie 99). Amina is worried that she will give birth to a two-headed child, but we soon learn that Ramram was speaking of both Saleem and Shiva. The phrase “knees and nose” is significant because the boys’ special abilities are tied to these two body parts: Saleem’s cucumber nose and Shiva’s monstrous knobby knees. Both of them are mentioned in the prophecy because their fates are intricately linked. Saleem and Shiva are both born at the stroke of midnight and switched before given back to their parents by Saleem’s nanny, Mary Pereira. Booker explains, “In a sense, then, Sinai is ‘really’ Shiva, and Shiva is ‘really’ Sinai, so that the polar opposition is severely problematized“ (978).

Up until the chapter of his birth, we are lead to believe that Ahmed and Amina Sinai are Saleem’s parents. Family history makes up a large part of Saleem’s narrative. He gives a detailed account of Amina’s side, starting with his grandparents, doctor Aadam Aziz and Naseem “the Reverend Mother,” before even getting to his own birth. After he reveals Ahmed and Amina as his parents, (or at least two of many “parents”), he refers to them as such for the remainder of the novel. He does, however, make a questionable comment after Amina announces to an angry Muslim mob that she is with child: “But although my mother was right about her public announcement, she was also wrong. This is why: The baby she was carrying did not turn out to be her son” (86). As with other parts of Saleem’s story, we don’t fully understand this statement until later. Eventually he explains how Mary switched his nametag with Shiva’s. Saleem actually belongs to a poor accordion-playing clown called Wee Willie Winkie and his wife Vanita, who died in childbirth. Methwold, the English owner of the estate where they live, is implied to be his biological father after a scene with Vanita, making Saleem’s identity even more complex.

Saleem’s caretaker, Padma, is understandably upset when she learns that he hasn’t cared to elaborate on his real parents. She has impatiently waited for him to tell her the story of his birth, only to find out that the genealogy he has been recounting isn’t even the history of his biological family. Padma feels tricked and calls Saleem a monster, but he does not see it this way:

No: I’m no monster. Nor have I been guilty of trickery. I provided clues . . . but there’s something more important than that. It’s this: when we eventually discovered the crime of Mary Pereira, we all found that it made no difference! I was still their son: they remained my parents. In a kind of collective failure of imagination, we learned that we simply could not think our way out of our pasts … (136-137)

For Saleem, the people who actually raised him are his family because that is what they have always believed to be true. Their personal histories have had a greater influence on his life than those of his biological parents. Furthermore, he sees himself, Shiva, and all the other midnight children as “only partially the offspring of their parents” anyway, because “the children of midnight were also children of the time—fathered . . . by history” (137). Saleem recognizes he is not only connected to his family, but also to history and the context in which he grows up.

It seems Saleem is right in noticing the importance of context. The environments in which Saleem and Shiva are raised have a great effect on the boys’ lives. They come from two very different social classes and this is important to their development and interactions later in the story. Actually, this is the reason Mary switched them in the first place. She was in love with a radical named Joseph D’Costa who was strongly opposed to the divide between the rich and the poor. So out of love for Joseph and his ideals, Mary switched the nametags on the boys, which she knew would mean “giving the poor baby a life of privilege and condemning the rich-born child to accordions and poverty” (135). Although both babies were born at the stroke of midnight, it is the wealthier of the two who gets the attention for it. Mary becomes Saleem’s nanny and according to Saleem, both she and Amina coddle him and fight for his affections, showing him off around Methwold’s Estate. It is Saleem, not Shiva, who gets a personal letter from the Prime Minister declaring his life will be “the mirror” of India’s own (143). It’s no wonder he grows up under the impression that he’s extremely special. As John J. Su points out, “From the outset of the novel, Saleem constructs a set of expectations that correspond with . . . an epic hero“ (550). He believes his destiny is inextricably linked to that of his country’s, making him essential to understanding India’s fate: “I was already beginning to take my place at the center of the universe, and by the time I had finished, I would give meaning to it all” (148).

While Saleem’s ego grows, so does Shiva’s anger. He has a horrible home life. After Vanita’s death, “something harsh and bitter” creeps into his father’s voice and although Winkie claims it’s only asthma, it gets worse and worse. Saleem says that Shiva feels at fault, “silently bearing the burden of being the cause (or so he thought) of his father’s slow decline” (150). Shiva is teased for his appearance and after he blinds one of the bullies with a sharp stone, Winkie comes to Methwold’s Estate and leaves his son “to enter the dark labyrinths from which only a war would save him” (150). Later we learn that the father-son relationship was even worse than that; Winkie tried to break Shiva’s giant kneecaps with a hammer. After losing his singing voice, Winkie believes he can make more money begging with an injured child, but Shiva is quick to defend himself. He breaks Winkie’s wrist in between his knees. From a young age, it’s clear that Shiva needed to be a fighter. His stubbornness, anger, and superhuman knees eventually make him into a powerful military leader. But his characteristics also make Saleem his rival.

Being the two children born closest to the midnight hour, Saleem and Shiva possess the greatest special powers. They both want to take charge of the Midnight’s Children Conference, a meeting of mental voices possible through Saleem’s telepathy. As the midnight children get older, Saleem notices new tensions and divisions among them at these meetings because “the prejudices and world views of adults began to take over their minds” (306). But as a child born into a world of possibility, Saleem is hopeful that the children will overcome their differences and unite to form a “third principle” (306). However, as he is mentally broadcasting his message of peace and unity, Shiva butts in and begins to mock his idealistic views. Shiva has experienced the unfairness of life firsthand, and he takes an every-man-for-himself approach. To Saleem and in the minds of all the other children, he replies, “No, little rich boy; there is no third principle; there is only money-and-poverty, and have-and lack, and right-and-left; there is only me-against-the world!” (307) Shiva believes that only people with money and resources can afford to have dreams; the rest have to fight. He thinks Saleem’s overly optimistic view makes him too “mushy” and “sentimental” to be taken seriously and in the end, Saleem is defeated (307).

Saleem has good reason to feel threatened by Shiva, which is why he takes it upon himself to shut him out of the Midnight Children’s Conference altogether. After finding out that Mary switched them at birth, Saleem is afraid that Shiva will learn the truth and claim his birthright as the prophesied child. Although Saleem could have come up with some noble reason for exiling him, he actually admits to the truth:

. . . refusing to accept that the prophecy of Ramram Seth had been intended for Winkie’s boy, that it was to be Shiva that the prime Ministers had written, and for Shiva that fishermen pointed out to sea . . . placing, in short, a far higher value on my eleven-year-old sonship than on mere blood, I resolved that my destructive, violent alter ego should never again enter the increasingly fractious councils of the Midnight Children’s Conference; that I would guard my secret—which had once been Mary’s—with my very life. (339)

True to character, Saleem does not like the idea of someone else taking the attention and importance away from him, especially if that person is his self-proclaimed nemesis. He blocks his knowledge of the truth from the children to protect his authority, but it is this very secrecy that contributes to his downfall. When Saleem returns from Pakistan after several years, he reconvenes the Conference and they are all happy to be back together. But soon the questions about Shiva’s disappearance begin to surface: the children realize Saleem has closed off part of his mind to them. They launch a collective attack, accusing Saleem of “secrecy, prevarication, high-handedness, egoism” but he still cannot bring himself to tell the truth about his birth (357). Gradually, distrust causes large groups of them to stop tuning in to the Conference. Soon only Saleem’s advocate, Parvati-the-witch, will talk to him, but even she is upset with his behavior: “‘O, Saleem,’ she said, ‘God knows what that Pakistan has done to you; but you are badly changed’”(357).

Parvati-the-witch seems to be another point of contention for Shiva and Saleem throughout the novel. Parvati’s gift of sorcery makes her one of the most powerful children, as she, too, was born near the stroke of midnight. In fact, Saleem says there is little she could not do with her “white” magic: “ she could cure disease and counter poisons . . . she could cure sores and consecrate talismans” (478-479). It is also Parvati who reminds Saleem of his true identity after he loses his memory and becomes a Pakistani soldier. With her powers, she makes him invisible and transports him back to India in a wicker basket. She keeps her gift a secret by working in the magician’s ghetto of Dehli, thus making her magic power appear only an illusion. In the ghetto, she tells Saleem that he is not the only midnight child she has seen. She reveals a lock of hair and says that Shiva gave it to her when they briefly met during his military travels. This causes Saleem to contemplate the significance of their encounter: “Parvati and Shiva, Shiva and Parvati, fated to meet by the divine destiny of their names, were united in a moment of victory” (465). In Hinduism, the goddess Parvati is Shiva’s wife and the mother of Ganesh (Cartwright). These three make up some of the most important and beloved Hindu deities. In Midnight’s Children, Saleem is the one who ends up marrying Parvati, thus inserting himself in the famous trio. However because Saleem refuses to marry Parvati at first, Shiva is still involved. According to Saleem, Shiva became a “notorious seducer” during his military career and “at the height of his philanderings there were no less than ten thousand women in love with him” (488). Yet Shiva would lose interest as soon as he got any of the women pregnant. Saleem therefore believes that Parvati summoned Shiva to her using the lock of his hair; she purposefully became pregnant with his child, knowing Shiva would leave and Saleem would marry her to preserve her honor. So in his story, Saleem becomes a part of the Shiva and Parvati pairing while also maintaining Ganesh’s original parentage.

Despite all these attempts to take on Shiva’s fate and emphasize his own importance, Saleem begins to lose his optimism as he realizes he has been unsuccessful. All his life, Saleem has been told, “Anything you want to be you can be: You can be just what-all you want” (148). It is rather ironic that Mary is the one who sings this little tune to him because by switching his nametag with Shiva’s, she sets them up for different opportunities in life. But in the end this doesn’t matter; it is still Shiva, not Saleem who reaches success, leaving Saleem to claim Mary’s song is “the greatest lie of all” (552). Saleem may want to place himself at the center of everything, but he admits early on that there are many things he did not have control over: “From ayah to Widow, I’ve been the sort of person to whom things have been done . . .” (285). He later observes that “Most of what matters in life takes place in our absence” (509). Throughout his story, Saleem attempts to insert himself at the center of his country’s history and prove his own importance. But John J. Su points out that Saleem does not become the traditional hero: “In contrast, the novel is preoccupied with his failures” (554). In the end, Shiva still surpasses Saleem by becoming “India’s most decorated war hero” while Saleem himself ends up in the magicians’ ghetto and then a pickle factory (486). Life has a funny way of working itself out.

In spite of Saleem’s pessimism about not achieving greatness, his story doesn’t leave us feeling hopeless. In fact, it is none other than Shiva who brings a glimmer of hope for Saleem in the end. After being captured and sterilized by Indira Gandhi “the Widow,” Saleem is depressed by the thought that the midnight children can no longer pass on their magical abilities to achieve his desired “third principle.” But while contemplating their sad fates, Saleem begins to laugh heartily at a happy realization. If the stories about Shiva fathering countless children during his military career are true, then, as critic Indira Karamcheti explains, “it is Shiva who is the progenitor of the sons of history, and a link to India’s precolonial mythological past” (84). Furthermore, “like the Hindu god of procreation and destruction” Shiva has now fulfilled both meanings to his name (Karamcheti 84). In that moment Saleem sees “a new generation of children, begotten by midnight’s darkest child . . . being raised towards the future” (Rushdie 525). And of course Saleem’s own son, Aadam Sinai, is one of these children.

Aadam Sinai is named after Aadam Aziz, Saleem’s grandfather. Karamcheti points out that because Aadam Aziz’s actual grandson is Shiva and Shiva is the true father of Aadam Sinai, the original family line is back on track: “So Rushdie’s genealogy takes us full circle: from Aadam Aziz in Kashmir through the displaced Saleem and Shiva to Aadam in Bombay, the true great-grandson of his great-grandfather. No one is who or what they claim to be, and yet, at the last, they are exactly where and who they should be” (84). Saleem is also aware of this, and because he knows Aadam actually belongs to Shiva and Parvati, he naturally compares Aadam to the “elephant-headed Ganesh” (500). This comparison is only strengthened because like Saleem and Shiva, Aadam has a defining characteristic: enormous ears. According to Sumanta Sanyal, Ganesh is “reputed to be a remover of obstacles” and is consequently “propitiated before the beginning of any new venture” (“Encyclopedia Mythica”). So both the prophesied family line falling into place and the incorporation of Ganesh are suggestive of a prosperous new beginning. Additionally, little Aadam has already shown an incredibly strong willpower and Saleem sees him having great potential: “We, the children of Independence, rushed wildly and too fast into our future; he, Emergency-born, will be . . . more cautious, biding his time; but when he acts, he will be impossible to resist” (507). Here is where I see the optimism coming through. Perhaps the child that represents a combination of Saleem’s ability to dream and Shiva’s realistic view of hardship holds the greatest promise for India’s future.

Works Cited

Booker, M. Keith. “Beauty and the Beast: Dualism as Despotism in the Fiction of Salman Rushdie.” ELH 57.4 (1990): 977-97. JSTOR. Web. 02 May 2014

Cartwright, Mark. “Shiva.” Ancient History Encyclopedia. Ancient History Encyclopedia Limited, 20 Nov. 2012. Web. 09 May 2014.

Karamcheti, Indira. “Salman Rushdie’s ‘Midnight’s Children’ and an Alternate Genesis.” Pacific Coast Philology 21.1/2 (1986): 81-84. JSTOR. Web. 09 May 2014.

Rushdie, Salman. Midnight’s Children. New York, NY: Avon, 1982. Print.

Sanyal, Sumanta. “Ganesha.” Encylopedia Mythica. Encyclopedia Mythica Online, 26 Aug. 1997. Web. 09 May 2014.

Su, John J. “Epic of Failure: Disappointment as Utopian Fantasy in ‘Midnight’s Children’” Twentieth Century

Literature 47.4, Salman Rushdie (2001): 545- 68. JSTOR. Web. 13 May 2014.