‘Slow rot of a day’ | Review of ‘The Anthropologists’ by Aysegul Savas

In the Turkish writer’s new book, the protagonist finds inspiration in the unremarkable grace of daily routine

If we believe columnists and podcasters, then the real struggle of modern romantic relationships is keeping it fun, exciting and spicy, constantly. There seems to be this insurmountable social pressure to never ever have a dull moment. 

But the truth might be that our relationships in the world are simply a series of subtle logistical adjustments with the other person. While some days might be noteworthy, let’s be honest, we’re all mostly scrolling through our phones, waiting in supermarket checkout lines, sitting in noisy traffic jams and browsing the Internet for longform essays we never actually read, or finding gossip to coax conversations with our friends over text.

Asya, the protagonist of Turkish writer Ayşegül Savaş’s third novel, The Anthropologists, understands this routine of contemporary life. In fact, as a documentary filmmaker, she says, “For now, I knew little beyond the fact that I wanted to film daily life, and to praise its unremarkable grace.” Savaş sets out to do the same with her novel. 

Asya is one half of a couple living abroad in an unspecified foreign city. Her husband, Manu, works at a non-profit. At the start of the novel, we find the couple trying to “make things a bit more solid” and looking for an apartment to buy. And we learn that for Asya’s next documentary, she will film a local park. Both of these decisions are fuelled by Asya’s anxieties that they “weren’t living by the correct set of rules”. 

The novel follows Asya and Manu visiting a number of prospective homes, meeting their few friends, Asya talking to her grandmother and mother over video-calls, and other little peeks into the couple’s everydayness. This is the spine of the novel. But like with everything in life, it’s the little cracks that give way to something more delicious. 

Outsider’s view

The Anthropologists is peppered with observations of being an outsider looking in, and Asya allows us to see the weird ways the world still isn’t open to difference. The ways that modern autonomy clashes with our ancient human need to be smothered, how annoying neighbours might simply be looking for attention and kindness, how grandmothers giving advice aren’t always condescending but a call to construct as well, and that general civility to one another simply gives us all “an illusory sense of harmony and permanence”.

Another element of contemporary life that Savaş’s book nails is our fierce protection of being self-made. But, through Asya’s observations of the older generations — her parents — we’re shown this self-mythologising can be extremely isolating; and not the gift it has been made out to be. In accompanying Asya and Manu while they “make a life”, we’re invited to stroll through our own, stop and value the textures and tensions therein. The Anthropologists isn’t cold, clinical notes on daily life in a contemporary world, instead, it manages to be a warm, wonderful take on how we come to be in the world at all. 

The reviewer is a poet and writer based in Bengaluru.

The Anthropologists

Ayşegül Savaş

Simon & Schuster

₹599

Published - November 01, 2024 09:20 am IST