The Anthropologists, Aşegül Savaş
Ayşegül Savaş writes with an undeniable grace as she puts a magnifying glass to the stillness of a couple’s life in a forever-moving city.
Asya and Manu are living in a foreign city, whose name has been purposely avoided. They begin apartment hunting and mortgage seeking whilst living out their tranquil lives. Other than their close friend Ravi, with whom the couple spend many days and nights relatively isolated from the rest of the hive that makes up the city. Asya attempts to connect to others, mostly other ‘outsiders’ who have come from other countries. She even finds herself referring to a group of emigrants as ‘the foreigners’, distancing herself from a group she qualifies for.
As a documentary filmmaker, Asya is incredibly observant. This is reflected beautifully in the short extracts that make up the novel, all titled after elements of anthropological fieldwork. She is more interested in the little routines that make up daily life rather than the big, often hollow, dreams that we’re told to live for but can rarely achieve. Using a recently awarded grant, Asya begins to make a documentary about the local park. Asking its regulars why they visit and how often. Her infatuation with the ‘everyday’ is inspiring. Asya, and in-turn, Savaş remind the reader that what’s important is the moments we are living for now, the life we are living now.
Asya and Manu’s families are constantly checking up on the couple, via visits or the phone. The two believe that their families may be dissatisfied with their way of life, their small and happy bubble. The big question mark surrounds the prospect of children, something which Asya and Many rarely discuss. They don’t seem to rely on the notion of bringing a baby to the world as a way to move their life forward; for now, they just want a home.
A home means routine and ritual, something Asya values more than anything. She wants something more than a tame and comfortable life with Manu. Their relationship is admirable and written with perfect relatability. They understand each other in a way that the reader can infer without it being explicitly written, a testament to Savaş’s ability to create real and grounded characters. She also explores the complications with friendship in an adult world, where life is an unstoppable force. So many worries and insecurities go unspoken between Asya and her few friends, mostly Ravi and Lena. She often finds a distance between them, more so as the two develop a not-so-simple relationship, putting Asya in a less-than-ideal position. This all shows how humans get so caught up in their heads that open and honest communication between friends can become one of the hardest barriers to surpass, often transporting us back to playground tensions.
Savaş has written a couple that we should all admire, in a novel we should all read. She packs so much life into a novel less than 200 pages. It’s the little moments that make up your days that are the most precious elements of life. Without content in those moments, you’ll never find satisfaction.
The Pear Book 