Critical Summary
Coming of age is
never easy. Coming of age as a woman is even harder. But coming of age as a
female immigrant in a foreign country may be the most difficult of all. For
many women born into societies with restrictive social and political codes,
however, immigration may be the only real way to come of age. In An American
Brat, Pakistani-born novelist Bapsi Sidhwa reveals with a humorous yet incisive
eye the exhilarating freedom and profound sense of loss that make up the
immigrant experience in America.
Sidhwa begins her
novel in Lahore, Pakistan. Feroza Gunwalla, a 16-year-old Parsee, is mortified
by the sight of her mother appearing at her school with her arms uncovered. For
Zareen Gunwalla, Feroza's outspoken 40-something mother, it is a chilling
moment. The Parsees, a small sect in Pakistan, take great pride in their
liberal values, business acumen, and—most importantly—the education of their
children.
It's 1978 in Pakistan
and 16-year-old Feroza Ginwalla, the heroine of the novel, An American Brat, is
beginning to worry her relatively liberal, upper-middle-class Parsee parents.
She won't answer the phone; she tells her mother to dress more conservatively;
she sulks, she slams doors, she prefers the company of her old-fashioned
grandmother; she seems to sympathize with fundamentalist religious thinking.
What to do? “I think Feroza must get away,” says Zareen, the girl's mother, to
her husband, Cyrus. Feroza is packed off to visit her Uncle Manek, a student at
MIT. But as Zareen waves goodbye to her daughter, she cannot know that in
America Feroza will become more independent than Zareen ever dreamt, or hoped,
was possible. “Travel will broaden her outlook, get this puritanical rubbish
out of her head.”
And indeed it
does—although to a disastrous degree, from Zareen and Cyrus' point of view, for
Feroza's three-month sabbatical with her uncle in Massachusetts turns into a
three-year sojourn in many parts of the United States.
By the time Zareen
decides, toward the end of the book, to reassert parental control by flying
from Lahore to Denver—where Feroza has become a hotel-management student—it's
too late. Her daughter is already an “American brat,” a woman with a mind and
opinions of her own, able to relish the ability to choose.
An American Brat is
an exceptional novel, one of such interest that the reader's reservations,
while significant, are ultimately of little consequence. Bapsi Sidhwa, author
of three previous works of fiction and frequently referred to as Pakistan's
most prominent English-language novelist, has produced a remarkable sketch of
American society as seen and experienced by modern immigrants.
America, to Feroza
and her Uncle Manek, is in many ways a paradise—as indeed it appears to be for
Sidhwa, a Parsee who has lived in the United States for many years—but An
American Brat is nonetheless a measured portrait, often reassuring and
discomfiting at the same time.
It's both wonderful
and startling, for example, to hear the fully Americanized Manek say to the
newly arrived Feroza, as she grapples with some well-wrapped container,
“Remember this: If you have to struggle to open something in America, you're
doing it wrong. They've made everything easy. That's how a free economy works.”
In style, An American
Brat is nothing like Henry James' The Ambassadors, being straightforward,
humorous, easygoing and unpoetic. In plot, though, it bears some similarities,
with travelers finding themselves unexpectedly transformed by their encounters
in a new land. Feroza soon realizes that Manek's years in the United States
have changed him: He is now “humbler and, paradoxically, more assured and
quietly conceited, more considerate, yet … tougher, even ruthless.”
One of the first
things Zareen notices about Feroza at the Denver airport is her gaudy tan:
“You'd better bleach your face or something,” she tells her daughter, “before
you come home.”
But even Zareen
proves vulnerable to America's charms:
Although she has come
to break up Feroza's engagement to a “non”—a non-Parsee—she glories in the
shopping and amenities of Denver life, “as happy as a captive seal suddenly
released into the ocean.” Zareen, her American mission at least partially
accomplished, returns to Pakistan but wonders momentarily whether she has done
the right thing. And that's the issue lying at the heart of this novel—the
competing loyalties immigrants feel toward family, culture, heritage, self. The
problem only flashes through Zareen's mind because she is too old to be fully
taken with American ways; Manek can almost ignore the contradiction because,
being male, he will be celebrated for living in the United States so long as he
takes a Parsee wife.
Feroza, by contrast,
feels the brunt of the conflict, newly aware of the severe sexism in Parsee
culture—men can marry outside the faith, for instance, while women cannot—and
thrilled at the idea of having her own money, her own career, her own identity.
Feroza has come to America, she discovers moments after first landing in New
York, to be “unself-conscious”—to be free, once and for all, of “the thousand
constraints that governed her life.”
An American Brat
suffers from a meandering, literal plot and a tone that doesn't distinguish
major insights from minor ones. Page by page, though, Sidhwa keeps the reader
engaged, for one can never predict which mundane American event she will
display in an entirely new light.
At the hospital: A
Parsee couple is presented with a ?15,000 bill for their daughter's delivery,
where-upon the shocked father replies, walking out, “You can keep the baby.” At
home: Feroza, gushing over Manek's vast supply of canned frankfurters and
sardines, saying, “I could eat this all my life!”
At an expensive
restaurant where Manek has sent back half his meal, to Feroza's horror, because
he can't possibly pay for it: “If you weren't so proud,” Manek tells his niece,
“you wouldn't feel so humiliated, and you'd have enjoyed a wonderful dinner.”
He has a point,
however twisted, and it's moments like that which make An American Brat a funny
and memorable novel.