Books can push the boundaries of our knowledge and force us to think of things in a way that we otherwise could not. They offer us an experience through the eyes of others and it’s easy to read into them more than was intended, but there is a gift in how a story can play on our imagination. Any book whose cover compares it to Ellison’s “Invisible Man” Wright’s “Native Son” and Dostoevsky’s “Crime and Punishment” has a pretty high standard to live up to. “The White Tiger” by Aravind Adiga lives up to it. The story telling is great, but the depth of social criticism/observation is what makes it smart. Plenty of people will read it and find it interesting, but when you consider it in the light of its call from the darkness it is so much more.

Dostoevsky’s Raskolnikov makes the case for the extraordinary man; the person who can commit a crime, even a murder and it should be excused because of the greater good which is possible due to of the existence of this extraordinary person. Part of his own personal reasoning is that in ridding the world of a bad person he is able to rise up and do more good (not that he actually does a whole lot of good, but the argument is more about potential). Munna/Balram, aka. “The White Tiger” doesn’t try to make the argument, he tries to live the argument, to show that even though his crime is a crime, the result has offered something new and good to others. His rise offers a different perspective to others that are like he was and creates a new way of doing things, maybe even a better way of doing things. They are two men with potential whose circumstances are preventing them from realizing the possibilities they imagine. On the other hand “The White Tiger” is also a version of Bigger Thomas driving around the rich man who is part of the establishment, which suppresses him and feeling empowered by every step towards the eventual end. He feels stronger when the deed is done. He is the invisible man not even really understood by those in his own world and who is discovering his eloquence by telling his own narrative, but he has also become one of the visible even when it seemed impossible.

The liberation from the chicken coop, the breaking of the cycle and the defiance of caste hold in them the power to inspire (though hopefully not to murder, but perhaps to revolution). It’s a modern tale of oppression and a person finally having enough. The portrait is of a reality, which contains an understanding of how things are and yet at the same time his refusal to be limited by them. That truth is revealed by the clarity with which he can be both critical and contemplative in the portrayal of his own life. Perhaps the most important realization is that it is not just his own culture, his own country, but the influences of the whole world, which both created his cage and pushed him to get out of it. You can’t help but hear the underlying critique of western culture and the almost playful prodding into the vagaries of Chinese culture as well.

Wrapped in the framework of cultural criticism, corruption, murder and personal narrative we are forced to ask: What must we be willing to do to accomplish the impossible? How do the powerless rise? Can one person’s triumph be called a revolution? Do the ends justify the means? Is Raskolnikov right about extraordinary men and their ability to bend the rules or even break them so that something good, something “extraordinary” can happen? Or on a personal level, who are your invisibles; the people that you don’t see or who you fail to recognize the value of?

This summer there was a show called “The Philanthropist” that aired six or seven episodes. The premise was that a billionaire looses his son and on a business trip to Africa he ends up saving the life of a little boy about the age his son was and it inspires him to a kind of ultra philanthropy of risking his life and using his money to make positive things happen in the world. There’s more to it than that, but my point is not to give a review of the show, but rather to ponder the motivations for why we do things for others.

It is truly a gift to know what you want. To be consistent in your likes and desires (not in a sense of excluding those things which you may not like, but rather a confidence in the things that you do) can make some of life’s decisions much simpler. When I asked my daughter what she wanted her pumpkin to look like there was no hesitation; “cheese.” Cheese is one of her favorite things (especially orange cheese) so I suppose it just seemed obvious that her pumpkin should be carved to represent something she likes. It was just as simple for her when asked what kind of birthday party she wanted to have; “orange” and she has already decided on “white” for her three year old party. If only every decision we make could be this simple. “This is what I like, there is no need for it to be something else, so this is what it will be.” Maybe most of our decisions probably should or at least could be that simple. It’s not a question of denying variety or of avoiding new things, it’s a question of finding that thing which you truly love or which you enjoy and letting that love or joy be your guide.