The Anthropologists by Aysegül Savaş is ostensibly about a couple, Asya and Manu, who are looking to buy an apartment in a foreign city that they have decided to call home.
But the real action is in their very small social circle – emphasis on the ‘very small’. Asya and Manu have two friends in the foreign city (Ravi and Lena), and another two acquaintances (another couple, Sharon and Paul, who host showy brunches for the ex-pats they know).
For most of the people we were acquainted with, Manu and I were nothing much more than our countries of origin, our accents, our work. And I yearned for a specific existence.
The story plays out amongst this small group of people, as well as at the local park, where Asya, a documentarian, spends her days gathering footage about ‘daily life’, to ‘…praise its unremarkable grace.‘ She notes, it’s a ‘… difficult story to tell.‘
I didn’t want to travel anywhere, to investigate the ways of other places, but to remain in the city, and establish some rules.
As the title implies, this book is about the small details and local customs that allow the couple to identify with their chosen city. Savaş explores what it means to create a home, and what constitutes ‘family’ when you are separated from relatives. The story is structured as vignettes, alternating between Asya and Manu’s day-to-day life and scenes from the park. As the story gently unfolds, we become increasingly aware of the fragility of the couples’ life, predominantly because of their small social circle – a tiny change causes a seismic shift.
I was particularly impressed by how well Savaş created characters that are not defined by their occupation. This was obviously intentional but it struck a chord because I’ve had lots of discussions with a friend recently about the risks in having your sense of identity tied too closely to your work.
It was often the case, for people our age, that an interesting job was tantamount to being an interesting person.
and
…it seemed that our interests could be legitimized only if we made something of them – a book, an exhibit. We often said what a shame this was; we romanticized artists of past decades, doing work with great joy and creativity without turning it into a product. Still, we belonged to our times.
I won’t go off on a tangent about work, interests and identity (because I might not stop…) but I’ll leave you with this charming quote, which feels somewhat prophetic for the year ahead –
I worry about wasting the day. I don’t mean productivity, I just mean enjoying it.
3/5
On the dining table was a heaping dish of fried peppers, another of herbed and spiced yogurt. A casserole of whole chicken.
I read this one recently (but didn’t review it extensively as it was December and I was running out of time), felt very familiar as both an anthropologist and an immigrant!
I bet it did!
The other thing that I thought the author captured well was the ‘exhaustion’ associated with being in another place. It is very tiring having to speak another language and pay attention to different rules of etiquette for an extended period of time, and I thought that was done well with Asya and Manu having moments where they relaxed and laughed about aspects of their chosen city.
I noticed how relaxing and easy it felt having friends from the home country over for Christmas – almost like one could let one’s hair down!
The question of defining yourself by your occupation is an interesting one. I have a friend who had a huge range of interests when we first met and a job that left her enough energy to explore them. That dwindled when she joined a large corporation and her focus changed.
It comes up a lot for my clients, and I was talking with my friend about it because she works in HR and sees a lot of issues for people when they retire, and then suddenly have mental health problems when their identity is altered.
There are many elements to this, but essentially it highlights the importance of having a range of interests (that you can do independently and some that you can do with others); that you put effort into nurturing friendships; that you continue to ‘learn’; and that you have a sense of ‘contributing’ (this is not necessarily significant for everyone but incidentally the whole topic came up because my friend and I are both ‘committee’ people ie. pretty much always volunteering for community/ nonprofit organisations, and it’s an important part of our identity).
The retirement point is a good one. For me, the blog fills the gap. It’s close to what I ended up doing in my working life, but I no longer get paid for it. I worked from home for well over a decade and needed to build up some kind of daytime social contact all of which stood me in good stead. I’ve been lucky but it’s not so easy for some.
I think the key is being proactive, as you were. Many people leave it too late and then feel overwhelmed.
This sounds very interesting but the cover reminded me of publishing conversations in the early days of online bookselling – we were told never to have covers with white backgrounds because they got lost online.
Is the city identified in this book or is it just meant to be any alien city?
My mother (86) has been retired a while but feels so guilty when she is “just reading” – despite having been a librarian who loves reading. I hope I never suffer from that but am much more likely to avoid cleaning than reading.
Interesting about white covers as I’ve read a few books lately with white covers. Maybe they’re back on-trend?
The city is never identified but I got strong Parisian vibes… don’t know why!
‘Just reading’ is my dream 😀
Nice picture of peppers!