When Scarcity Blurs the Line Between Right and Wrong

"At the turn of the 20th century, a young Sicilian woman who will soon marry a "rich American" presents two postcards, supposedly from the United States, to a village elder. The first depicts a man holding a wheelbarrow that contains a massive onion, so large that it dwarfs both the wheelbarrow and the man. The second postcard displays a tree that is bursting with coins, as if money is sprouting from the branches."

"Many immigrant novels contain similar scenes, in which hapless characters embrace improbable visions of America, only to be chastened upon arrival. These passages reflect how divided the planet once was, how easily myths about the United States could become rooted in other countries. Yet these images also contained a kernel of truth: America once seemed to be a place where hard work inevitably yielded prosperity; where, with time and effort, you could eventually purchase as many onions as you pleased."

"A Guardian and a Thief is not an immigrant novel in the traditional sense, though its protagonist hopes to leave India for America. (Majumdar's best-selling debut novel, A Burning, takes place in contemporary India.) Set in the near future, when an environmental crisis has decimated India's economy and landscape, A Guardian and a Thief unfolds as a mesmerizing morality play that demonstrates how categories like "victim" and "thief" collapse under conditions of scarcity."

A Guardian and a Thief is set in near-future India after an environmental crisis has devastated the economy and landscape. The protagonist hopes to leave India for America but remains within a society racked by scarcity. The narrative unfolds as a morality play showing how labels such as "victim" and "thief" break down when resources are limited. The book juxtaposes elegy for life left behind with the seductive myths of the new world. The characters exhibit worldviews shaped by previous centuries, producing a tension between their beliefs and the harsh 21st-century conditions they face.

Read at The Atlantic