Book Review: Hellfire by Leesa Gazi

In my last post — a review of Ocean Vuong’s On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous — I wrote, “If the fences are eventually lifted, where will we go from there?” Strangely, Leesa Gazi’s Hellfire, translated from the Bengali by Shabnam Nadiya, starts from there. Lovely gets out of the house for the first time all by herself. She is 40. As the book begins, the narrator tells us, “Getting out of the house, however, was a task as hard and complicated as crossing the pulserat, that final bridge of the afterlife spanning the fires of hell.” Hellfire answers the questions — why did Lovely take 40 years to do something that’s as unassuming as stepping out of the house by herself? Does Lovely cross the bridge? Or does the fire engulf her? If Lovely crosses the bridge, is she the same person when she reaches the other end? Or will she be permanently marked by Freedom?

Leesa Gazi’s Hellfire is 198 pages long. The rich, layered story of Farida Khanam and her daughters Lovely and Beauty unfolds like a fast-paced psychological thriller in those measly 198 pages. I keep harking back to the number of pages because despite being ridiculously short, the narrative bursts forth like water that gushes out just after a dam collapses. There is real force in Gazi’s storytelling, and Nadiya’s translation ensures that the force is not impeded.

For 40 years, Farida Khanam has always kept Lovely and Beauty on her watch. For children raised by Asian mothers, being under the constant supervision of their mothers is an everyday thing. But Farida Khanam stalks her own children. For instance, when Lovely and Beauty sit in their classroom, Farida Khanam watches them from their balcony that’s right opposite to their school. When they go out, she accompanies them. Every contact with the outside world is severed. The daughters’ privacy is limited to their bedrooms. The house is their bubble. They age, arrive well into middle-age, without experiencing the conventional milestones, trials, heartbreaks, joys, and triumphs of life. A golden cage is a cage all the same.

The reason why Farida Khanam keeps her daughter under lock and key is the story of what patriarchal societies do to women. We meet the important women in Farida Khanam’s life, and how they transfer their trauma to her. We see how they make Farida Khanam a woman of steel and a woman who cannot see the pain and damage she inflicts on her daughters. We meet the not-so-important men in her life, and how they are victims of patriarchy themselves, and how women continue to bear men’s cross. Gazi narrates each character’s story with the unwavering confidence of a creator who knows about every fibre of her characters’ being. But the most fascinating aspect of Gazi’s narration is how it’s impossible to guess the path the story would take despite knowing the characters and their motivation. In my copy, the last line of the story is the last line in the book itself. There are no acknowledgements, and notes about the author and the translator after the story ends. So, I was left reeling in shock when I read the last line. The punch in the gut was so sudden that I was breathless for a brief moment.

Hellfire is wild and disturbing, and it’s incredible and important. What makes it outstanding though is how the horror is omnipresent and surreal. Imagine this — you are ensconced in your bedroom, but the clouds suddenly become dark, and terrifying thoughts cross your mind. You just can’t say what’s bothering you, but you can feel a sense of impending doom. The horror that Hellfire holds is quite like what Shirley Jackson wrote in We Have Always Lived In The Castle. Nothing is explicit. In Hellfire, there is no mention of physical violence too. But the terror rises out of the characters’ realisation that how seemingly normal things are on the surface, and how just a chink is enough to see how deeply ruined they are.

5 thoughts on “Book Review: Hellfire by Leesa Gazi

  1. Vishy April 21, 2021 / 7:54 pm

    Beautiful brilliant review, Deepika! I’ll add this to my reading list. Stepping out of the house (metaphorically) for the first time is so terrifying. All of us have done it at some point, but defying people around us and doing it for the first time is so terrifying. I want to find out what happens in the story. Thanks for sharing your thoughts 😊

    Liked by 1 person

    • Deepika April 22, 2021 / 8:50 pm

      Thank you, Vishy. Leesa Gazi is a terrific storyteller. The story is gripping for the themes it explores. I hope you would like it. 😁

      Like

  2. buriedinprint May 12, 2021 / 2:59 am

    This sounds fascinating. Your gut-punch description makes me want to turn immediately to the last page (but I wouldn’t).

    Even though I can’t think of an example in this moment, I know I’ve had that feeling with short and powerful and traumatic stories before (often works of translation, so maybe they didn’t have the budget to both translate and secure supplementary materials)…where I turned the last page and desperately wanted something else to flesh out the experience I’d just had and instead it simply ended…but there’s a certain kind of poetry in being just left alone with the story too, I guess.

    You must need a happier story for a change, no? 🙂 Having read a long string of climate crisis books lately, I can relate. LOL

    Liked by 1 person

    • Deepika May 17, 2021 / 1:56 pm

      Hi! I have returned to WordPress after almost a month. Your beautiful, heartwarming, and enlightening comments have been waiting for me. Thank you very much for taking the time to read all of my blogs and leave comments as well. I am grateful for your time and attention.

      I agree with you. When the story ends, there is nothing to cushion the blow. No epilogue. Nothing. We are left reeling in the shock. In ‘Hellfire’, the story ends not to shock the reader but I can’t imagine another ending now. What Gazi was unimaginable, but now that she has ended the story this way, my heart refuses to accept anything else. I will look out for her work.

      You are right. 😀 I certainly needed something happy. So, I read something restorative. I read Robin Wall Kimmerer’s ‘Braiding Sweetgrass’ with my favourite reading-buddies. Reading the book felt like watering my soul. ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  3. buriedinprint May 24, 2021 / 3:28 am

    I haven’t read that one yet but I am holding it in reserve. She’s been on my TBR since I read her book on moss (well, not all of it, I’d not anticipated that it wouldn’t be renewable at the library, because it’s a book about moss LOL) which I thought was just amazing. Glad you’re back to bookchatting. I’m sure I’m not the only one who has missed your sensibility and tenacity as well as your reading recommendations.

    Liked by 1 person

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