An anti-war novel

Most reviews of Palpasa café stress the author’s poignant depiction of the country at the height of the Maobadi insurgency. Despite being a fictionalised account, the novel refers to a number of events rooted in the political and military situation during that period. A large part of the book narrates the travels of the main character, Drishya, through the Western hill districts during the conflict. In these villages, Drishya (the narrator) encounters various witnesses to the civil war and some of its actors. Among them is an acquaintance from the past, Siddhartha, who has become a Maoist leader. Their positions on the civil war radically differ. What is the use of violence? Are deaths and martyrs necessary to give birth to a new world, supposedly more equal than the present one? Drishya has doubts about revolutionary ideals. The book is punctuated by deaths including that, at the end, of Palpasa, the girl the narrator has fallen in love with.

The story is overall melancholic, sad, sorrowful, just as the 10 years of civil conflict were. Palpasa café has often been described as an “anti-war novel” (Kunda Dixit), stressing the atrocities of the war. Schools are blown up, villages emptied, poor peasants in the hills instrumentalised by the guerrillas. The fate of the common people caught in the crossfire between the two belligerents, as in many other zones of conflict throughout the world, is eloquently expressed.

However, it is worth noting that the narration is highly fictionalised. The characters for instance do not seem to belong to any caste or to any specific community. Who is Palpasa? A first-generation American Nepali who has returned to her motherland after 9/11. Besides this, little is known about her. Palpasa is a Newari name, meaning ‘lightning’; but the reader remains uncertain about her specific ethnic/caste identity. For the author, these are obviously not the central issues.

Realm of a happy few

Drishya also belongs to the more globalised section of Nepali society. He is a modern painter (and incidentally a writer), an occupation that is emblematic of Kathmandu and Patan society, but totally unknown outside the overcrowded valley. When travelling through the hills to his native place, he remains for the most part an outside observer of the realities of the country. In addition, the dramatic structure is non-linear. The gossamer-like storyline contains a number of holes. As such, the book strikingly differs from more realistic Nepali novels in

the past.

I personally see the book as portraying a constant balance between tradition and modernity. The first chapter is situated in Goa, a fashionable tourist destination for the Nepali middle class and Westerners. The story then shifts to Kathmandu’s modern atmosphere, especially in Thamel, the tourist hub, and then finally to the districts where peasants live in close contact with the seasons. Drishya and his friends lead westernised lives. They eat momos but also smoked chicken-sizzlers. They listen to Western music, Bob Marley, the Beatles. They meet in cafes not in chiya pasals, teashops. Palpasa brings a bottle of French wine to her new friend’s party; other guests bring flowers. We are in a typical avant-garde life, the realm of a happy few.

Drishya personifies the new importance of the individual in modern society, in stark contrast to Siddhartha who, as a Maobadi, stresses collective issues and relies on more traditional forms of belonging. This opposition is recurrent in the book. The scene of the young girl in the hills who leaves her choice—to join Maobadi squadrons—in the hands of her father, “I will do what he decided”, is remarkable in this regard. Even when faced with revolutionary choices, the young peasant girl is compelled to adhere to traditional relations of authority within the family.

The contrast between Christina, the Dutch visitor to Drishya’s art gallery—and a prevailing character in the book from beginning to end—and Palpasa is also striking. The first speaks unrestrainedly, openly expressing her feelings in a manner that leaves the painter bewildered. Despite being superficially Westernised, Palpasa is much more reserved. She conforms more to the Nepali traditional stereotype of the unmarried young girl.

The modern, the traditional

Today, all Nepalis have one foot in the modern world and another in traditional life. Palpasa café illustrates these two opposite trends. The elusive dialogue and the silent love between the two heroes are in many ways typical of Nepali traditional models, seemingly light-years away from Western modernity with its crude exchanges between persons of the opposite sex. The dialogue between Drishya and Palapasa chiefly reflects a flirtatious relationship, with its usual entreaties and minor exasperations. Instead, the undecided couple exchange romantic love letters. Moreover, the two main characters are significantly immaterial, incorporeal. They are idealised figures, almost spectral. To express her feelings towards Drishya, Palpasa says, “You have stolen my soul”.

Here, we are in the conventional Nepali world of possession and soul-searching.

The absence of any psychological analysis, corresponding to the customary Nepali repertoire of hidden feelings, also characterises the novel. In my view, the metaphors and the poetics of the book also reveal traditional Nepali patterns. Palpasa café is replete with poetic images about colours, birds, flowers, and trees. These devices pertain to a clearly defined, long national literary heritage. Blue jacaranda flowers (siris ko phul) are very present here.

On the whole, Palpasa cafe illuminates a confused world that is pulled in different directions. The narration reflects current uncertainties and the conflicting situations that many Nepalis experience when torn between both modern and traditional values.

Toffin is Research Professor at the National Centre for Scientific Research, France