Her book is a virtuoso act of interpretation of what one can discover and rediscover through one's own past. Her intensely original style and flair for description leave the reader with the sense of having read a complete and utterly true story. Each chapter is brimming with anecdotes from her past and present, interwoven with dialogue, thought, and breathtaking description. The book, which is written in a free flowing form, resembles in many ways the way a mind thinks: constantly drawing upon different musings in order to come a final conclusion.
The most striking aspects of Meatless Days are how credible the story feels and the uniqueness of Suleri's personal ethos. Suleri, who appears to bar nothing from the reader, presents herself as a warm and trusted interpreter. She is unlike any other writer whom I have yet encountered thus, although her credibility is unfaltering and her personal ethos is strikingly well defined, I find that discerning the methods by which she creates them is quite challenging. The works of two other accomplished writers can help us to see how Suleri achieves these effects.
Perhaps the most expedient method by which an author can create credibility is to prove that she knows more about a topic than the reader does; more intricate details; more complicated names and histories. Including exhaustive detail about a topic proves to us that our author was truly a part of the event, or that she studied the issue in great depth, either outcome solidifying our faith in her credibility. Suleri, McPhee and Didion all use this method in their work. Throughout Meatless Days, Suleri intermittently updates us about the changing political situation in Pakistan, each time mentioning exact dates, and numerous names which have not made the evening news for many decades:
How different Pakistan would be today if Ayub had held elections at that time, in 1968, instead of holding on until the end and then handing military power over to-of all people! -- Yahya . . . If Ayub had held elections there might still have been a deathly power struggle between Bhutto and Mujib: Mujib, the elected leader of East Pakistan; Bhutto, of West Pakistan.
Suleri's father was a politic journalist and the political crises of Pakistan became crises in their home. Her substantial knowledge of Pakistani politics and her strong opinions about their outcome confirm her credibility as an interpreter of the postcolonial nation.
The detailed descriptions, facts, and citations that an author puts in a book help to build her credibility, yet strangely, what the author leaves out can be just as important. Although Meatless Days recounts her own thoughts and history, Suleri admits that there are aspects of her life in Pakistan that she will never fully comprehend and thus can not explain to us. When writing about her brother, Shahid in the section entitled "The Right Path; Or, They Took the Wrong Road," she confesses her imprecise understanding of her brother: "We had always thought of him, having as he did, the greater mobility of the male, as the most Pakistani of us: it never crossed my mind that he would choose to stay away or choose a life that would not allow him to return" . Though she confesses that she does not have a full knowledge of the topic on which she writes, we continue to value Suleri's interpretation. Her disclosure of her lack of certain understanding, in fact adds to her credibility. Nonfiction pieces are meant to be loyal to actuality and, as fellow human beings, we understand that when one is writing about certain significance or the inspiration of another it is impossible to possess complete understanding. Thus, admitting a lack of expertise in certain areas helps to confirm the actuality of the story.
What authors leave out of their stories is just as important as what they leave in. It helps to build credibility when an author admits to us that she will not tell us about something because her lack of understanding will not allow her, but it is also effective when an author tells us that there are some topics about which she chooses not indulge us. Scattered throughout Meatless Days are mentions of a woman named Dale. It is apparent that Suleri cherishes her, yet she never divulges where they met our even the nature of their relationship. The modest amount of information about Dale is a clear choice made by Suleri, who even writes in the closing pages of her book: "I will not mention Dale at any length, although great length occurs to me (be distracted, elsewhere, Dale, as you read through this shortest sentence)". This line adds further to the mystery of Dale and to our frustration about our lack of knowledge. But Suleri's refusal to bestow upon us her entire story creates credibility. Her story is a personal one. Thus, it is expected that there are certain people and memories from her past that she would want to keep for herself. Although we may be frustrated and curious, we expect that if her story is in fact credible she, like the rest of us, holds certain memories sacred and will shield them from the world.
The powerful and effective nonfiction writer like Suleri is a trusted interpreter of events. The greater the displays of knowledge, prowess in written word, and alluring personal style, the more effectual the author is as a trusted interpreter, yet she must make heed not to inject her writing with too much of her own opinion and judgments. The most beloved and effective fictional narrator of all, Nick Carraway, of F.Scott Fiztgerald's masterpiece The Great Gatsby, bashfully admits to readers in the opening lines of the novel that is "inclined to reserve all judgments" (5). We want to have a sense of our author's personality but including a great deal of personal opinion and reaction can take away from her credibility as an interpreter.
Suleri's seemingly emotionless and judgment-free writing style can at times take readers by surprise because her writing is so extremely personal. Her writing about her father's sudden divorce from his first wife, Baji, after having fallen in love with her mother, is completely free from any judgment of her father's insensitive action toward his daughter Nuz:
Mamma at twenty-five must have been a talking thing-but I would hardly have thought that sufficient for him to pick up his life with Baji and just put it in his pocket. Oh, knowing his makeup I have no doubt he sang with pain, but he went through with it anyway. The divorce was conducted by mail, and in Karachi Nuz at nine was told that her grandparents were her parents, that Baji was her sister.
Suleri was wise in wringing many of her own judgments out of Meatless Days. The book is already charged with her very personal and very painful stories. Thus if she had included more of her own judgments and emotions, her credibility would have been threatened, and the book would be at risk for appearing too slanted a view.
In brilliant displays of her writing expertise, Suleri, like Didion, often uses other means then direct statement to convey her emotions or opinions. Much of the uniqueness of her style comes from her ability to substitute other images as metaphors for her emotion. In the chapter "Goodbye to the Greatness of Tom," Suleri hauntingly describes her relationship and its end with a man named Tom by piecing together images of their time together, thoughts about being alone, and scraps of conversations with her sisters. At the conclusion of the chapter when she describes Tom's final words to her, she does not write about her own sadness but instead lets her interpretation of his words portray the emotion for her:
I knew it meant that had I in Bombay -- leaving India in the opposite direction from the gateway that should have heralded me -- visited the Elephanta Caves, I knew already what I would have found. The wind would have whipped its warmth around the caves, emptying them of echo, and wrinkled out of sight across the flatness of the sea: all that would remain for me to hear would be the way one howled to the other, "Goodbye to the greatness of Tom!"
In these closing words of the chapter, Suleri successfully uses the image of the wind whipping through an empty cave to portray her sadness. Further, her certainty that she would hear Tom's name in the wind clearly conveys that she was affected by the ending of their relationship. Suleri's subtle yet stirring manner of conveying her emotions is unparalleled. This ability enables her to weave her own personality throughout her writing while still maintaining her credibility.
Just as central to the effectiveness of a piece as an author's credibility is her personal ethos. A writer's personal ethos is the lens through which she views the world and the manner in which she projects this view to her reader. The writer's voice is of course extremely significant to the personal ethos of the piece. The words of the people about whom the author writes also help to create its message.
In Meatless Days, Suleri's quotes people in a style that is uniquely her own; so much her own in fact that she often seems to be feeding her own eloquent words right into the characters mouths. In "Goodbye to the Greatness of Tom," she quotes what her former boyfriend supposedly said to her once in sadness: "'I am sick,' he said in self remorse when he last spoke to me. 'It clutches at my heart and does not let me move,' he wailed; 'It puts me out of pulse and frightens me' (89). It can be safely assumed that her boyfriend, in a moment of intense emotion, did not speak so poetically and explain himself in symbols. It is also safe to assume that when her mother expressed her worry about her biracial children she did not wonder to herself, as Suleri tells us: "What will happen to these pieces of yourself‹you, and yet not you‹when you dispatch them into the world? Have you made sufficient provision for their extraordinary shadows?" (161). Although it is apparent that Suleri gives us her own lyrical interpretation of other people's words, the constant weaving of her own voice throughout every aspect of her story is enormously effective in creating the personal ethos of Meatless Days. The book is a memoir and as such we look to be taken to Suleri's world as she sees it. By shaping the character's words into a voice that is more her own, she creates a world held together with the majesty of her own prose. The fluidity of her voice as narrator is never broken, not even broken in the words of other people.
It goes with out saying that Suleri, McPhee, and Didion are all masters of prose. Credibility and personal ethos in the nonfiction piece can be helped by detailed information, subtlety in employing judgment, and well placed quotations, but what ties any great piece together, any piece that makes you quiet with inspiration, twinge with recognition or shiver with emotion, is the writer's ability to create brilliantly crafted words.
Suleri's greatest strength in Meatless Days is her flair for description. Her book focuses a great deal on
I went in search of another cure from him, back to the Himalayas of my childhood, the winsome gullies that climb up the hills beyond the more standard attractions of Murree-a mere hill station of a place, with its mall, its restaurants, and its jostle.
In this short description of a hill side, we can truly envision the mountain with "its winsome gullies", a sweet haven from the bustle of the city below. Each of her chapters are infused with awe-inspiring descriptions which make the world of
Meatless Days is a jewel of a book, full of emotion and astounding insight. Sara Suleri is a master writer, who creates a warm and effective personal ethos and develops a bond of trust with the reader. Her writing style is unlike any other that I have encountered and as such it is difficult to discern the methods and techniques she uses to shape her words. However, by means of studying great nonfiction, it is clear to see that writing is not deemed "great" or "effective" simply by its own merit. There is clear technique and skill involved in nonfiction writing, and just as a blacksmith must learn the tricks and steps to shaping metal, writers too have steps to follow in their craft.
To read Meatless Days is exhausting. Not because the book is boring by any stretch of the mind, but because Suleri writes so effectively that the reader feels transported to her world. We are involved in the arguments with her father, emotionally wrenched by the death of her sister, and touched beyond words by the enduring love of a family that cannot be together. Sara Suleri must have tirelessly studied the techniques and methods used by remarkable nonfiction writers, for her implementation of their craft in Meatless Days is breathtaking.