Running in the Family by Michael Ondaatje
This pendant, once its shape stood still, became a mirror. It pretended to reflect each European power till newer ships arrived and spilled their nationalities, some of whom stayed and intermarried - my own ancestor arriving in 1600...and a new name with a Dutch spelling of his own. Ondaatje. A parody of the ruling language. And when his Dutch wife died, marrying a Sinhalese woman, having nine children, and remaining. Here. At the center of the rumor. At this point on the map.
Michael Ondaatje spent his childhood in Sri Lanka, but moved to England and then Canada for his adult life. One day, though, he decided to go back to Sri Lanka and find out more about his family, a bunch of rich party-lovers with English, Dutch, and Indian blood.
He has trouble telling the difference between fact and fiction in what people tell him about his family, especially his father. So he tells us everything, all the wild stories, and mixes in poems, photographs, and conversations.
We learn that his grandmother, Lalla, used to steal flowers from her friends and neighbors, so his father started growing cacti. People say his father drunkenly hijacked a train by waving a rifle and getting the driver drunk too. A man who tortured his wife's chickens was cursed and died clucking and pecking at pillows.
Eventually Running in the Family convinces us to agree with the author: it does not really matter how much is made up, as long as it is a good story. Few books will ever be as much fun.
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