Books can be many things. They are as varied and unique as the people who write them. They can be vehicles for a personal narrative or a universally relatable story.They can be a sounding board for intimate thoughts or globe-trotting tales.They can thrill or charm, entertain or inform, make you think or make you feel. King of The Sea is a book which somehow manages to do all of those things, often within the same short paragraph.
Author Nandan Gautam admits that the book perhaps wrote itself, or at least he just wrote down what bubbled to the surface of his thoughts once he had set them to the task, and did so sequentially without adding or editing anything as he went along, allowing himself to be guided through this odyssey just as the first time reader now is. The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on? And that isn’t the only time that King of The Sea will remind you of such classical, metaphysical literature. There is a notion that people should not try to write, they should just live their life and make notes as they do so. This is perhaps the logical conclusion of such an approach. Everybody may have a book inside them but it is how you extract it and what form it takes which is the important aspect.
This book takes the form of “a novel, a journal and a musical odyssey” with three intertwining voices weaving their own narrative threads around each other. The story itself is often told through parables and riddles, the unlocking of which lies at the heart of the story. The author himself offers his own innermost thoughts about the writing of the book from his modern and real world perspective and most interestingly there is also a voice talking directly to him as he does so, of which, “It was easier to hear The Voice when I spoke to myself.” Is this as grand an idea as the universe speaking? Is this just his own guiding dialogue for his private, unuttered thoughts? Is there really any difference?
The three narratives, printed in three different type faces for ease, loop in and out of each others stories, sometimes contrasting, sometimes complimenting. Short bursts of wisdom, or at least hidden wisdom, which you are encouraged to seek out, perhaps becoming more obvious and relevant with each subsequent read. Some paragraphs feel like ancient texts, sacred and profound, others sentences would feel perfectly at home as a modern meme, beloved of social media aficionados or as a slogan on a hipster t-shirt. Such is the fluid style of the book.
At turns the narratives are fractured, challenging, opaque and visionary. They are intimate and reflective, soul-searching and relatable, full of mystique and built on fable, analogy and metaphor. But it is in this confusion that the real purpose of the book is found. It has no logical conclusion. It has many destinations. It may be written from a very personal view of life but in it there is room for us to find our own parallels, to see that the journeys taken within the book are paths both physical and spiritual, that we all embark on. It is a book to be mediated on rather than understood. What is life without mystery?
Stylistically it also covers so much ground. Ancient mysticism dove-tails into modern story-telling. Its many-voiced approach is sometimes reminiscent of T.S.Eliot’s infamous The Wasteland, a poem which conjures a feeling rather than a narrative. Its maritime themes also resonate with stories such as Heart of Darkness’ voyage into the self and the soul; the archetypal characters which make up Carroll’s motley Snark Hunting crew and the undersea voices found in and under Milkwood. And it says something about the beauty of the writing that most of the obvious references are poetic rather than prosaic.
At the same time as writing the book, Nandan Guatam was making music and it became obvious that the two mediums were outlets for the same story, just expressed in different ways. There are now two albums of music, The King of The Sea and The Divine Flaw, which complement the book through equally fluid music, taking in western progressive rock, eastern traditions, Sufi mysticism and hazy folk music, pop, world sounds and everything in between. The perfect subtle and supple sound track for such a compelling read.
For a book which is less about the story arc and more about small fragments of understanding, which is about posing more questions than finding any definitive answers, which is a different book for each and every read who comes to it, it is a surprisingly easy read. But don’t let that fool you. It is not a book to be read once and discarded, it is a book to be re-read on many occasions throughout your life, sometimes in short bursts, sometimes via complete immersion. It is a book which revels its secrets slowly and over time, or rather it is a conduit to the reader revealing their own secrets to themselves.
And to finish on yet another famous quote…a wise man once said that it is “better to travel well, than to arrive.” The King of The Sea is all about travelling well and perhaps never arriving. And perhaps for a book full of metaphors that is the one that sums it all up most succinctly.
