From Chutnification to Pickling
In Salman Rushdie’s Mightnight’s Children, the cucumber-nosed master cook Salem is often aided by his sensational sense of smell. Aside from the warnings Salem’s nose provides, I argue that Rushdie uses Salem’s olfactory-based talents as a pickle and chutney cook to show the transformation of Salem’s interpretation of his story, away from his “chutnification of history” to the pickling and preservation of his chapters. As he completes producing his 30th and final unique bottle of pickles, Salem writes, “Every pickle-jar (you will forgive me if I become florid for a moment) contains, therefore, the most exalted of possibilities: the feasibility of the chutnification of history; the grand hope of the pickling of time!” (529). Rushdie takes advantage of differences in the preparation of chutneys and pickles, both spicy condiments in Indian cooking to provide insight into Salem’s approach and motives in his story-telling.
In Indian cooking, chutneys require complicated daily preparations, as evidenced by Mary’s hard work throughout the novel, while pickle preparation is simpler and lasts for months, replete with salt and preservatives. Salem’s description of his “chutnification of history” provides evidence towards his biases in his reinterpretation of complex historical events. The idea of “chutnification of history,” suggests that Salem’s descriptions of historical events are not always based in pure fact, and the he openly recognizes his errors and is rarely perturbed by them. In contrast, Salem views each of his chapters as unique creations, just as his bottles of pickles are, and is far more vested in their preservation. Ultimately, Salem hopesdto be judged on his pickles, writing “One day perhaps, the world may taste the pickles of history. They may be too strong for some palates, their smell may be overpowering, tears may rise to eyes; I hope nevertheless that it will be possible to say of them that they possess the authentic taste of truth…that they are, despite everything, acts of love” (531). Through the junxtaposition of chutneys and pickles, Salem asks the reader not to focus on his historical accounts, but his character.
Vivek Chellappa
So insightful Vivek!
Saleem our storyteller is also our chef. With a “mastery of the multiple gifts of cookery and language,” he prepares a delectable feast for his guests the readers (37). We sit at his dinner table, our tummies swelling with each and every sentence and spoonful. His mind is a pantry; his “nocturnal scribbling” a type of Magimix food processor. In cooking, Saleem demonstrates how “things – even people – have a way of leaking into each other . . . like flavors” (37). Perhaps the secret to our storyteller’s winning recipe is his ability to take seemingly random ingredients and concoct a meal that literally oozes in meaning and significance. No matter how spontaneous and uncalculated certain details may seem (the birth of a boy and the stumping of a big toe), Saleem convinces us of an undeniable connection/”leaking” that binds us all together – an interdependence. Like a hungry child, I have swallowed his story and something tells me I will be digesting it for quite some time.
I may be cheating by writing this comment after reading the Huggan’s article for Monday about comodification of India, but the choice of a chutney for each chapter is particularly suited to illustrating Huggan’s thesis. Through the voice of Saleem, Rushdie is making a direct appeal to his audience to taste his “pickles” with an open mind. He warns that the substance of each chapter may bring tears to the eyes, etc., but reminds us that they are an act of love. It strikes me that this statement comes towards the end of the book, after the reader has imbibed in most of Rushdie’s “pickles” and is coming to a final judgment. A wester reader at this point in the novel who has found the first 29 chapters enjoyable may pride him- or herself on being worldly enough to appreciate that which some may find unpalatable, much as a Westerner in an Indian restaurant who has just imbibed in a particularly spicy dish may take pride in his or her hearty, worldly taste buds. Rushdie’s choice of chutney and pickles speaks directly to the marketing of the exotic upon which many of the books on the syllabus have capitalized.