Funny Boy isn’t just a coming-of-age novel, but a beautifully crafted narrative that weaves together the journey of its protagonist, Arjie, with the political landscape of Sri Lanka in the late 1970s. Through Arjie’s eyes, we discover the pain of societal expectations, and the resilience required as he begins to realise that he is queer.
In the first story Pigs Can’t Fly, Arjie is a young child who looks forward to the monthly playdates with his cousins at his grandparents’ house. The boys play cricket, while the girls – and Arjie – play ‘bride-bride’. Arjie always plays the bride, until a new cousin ‘Her Fatness’ arrives and tries to take the role from him. An argument ensues, and Her Fatness’s mother drags a sari-clad Arjie into the room and in front of all the relatives, where an uncle calls him ‘funny’, and his parents are horrified. Young Arjie can’t seem to understand what he did wrong, and why he is now being forced to play cricket with his male cousins. Although he doesn’t understand it, he is forced to deal with societal norms from a very young age.
Arjie’s conventional beliefs in love begin to fade as he witnesses the effect of societal upheaval on familial relationships. When Radha Aunty first comes home, she is set to marry Rajan, a family friend. Young Arjie is thrilled to see his fantasy game of bride-bride coming to reality. But Radha falls in love with a Sinhalese man, much to the chagrin of both families. After an attack on her train by a Sinhalese mob, Radha is conflicted and eventually chooses to marry the man her family chose. Later in the narrative, we are introduced to someone Arjie’s mother had a brief affair with. When the man is killed, Arjie’s mother is unable to seek justice fearing it will bring their Tamil family into the spotlight. These instances are among the many more which shape a young Arjie’s mind into believing that love does not conquer all in the end.
During adolescence, Arjie’s interpersonal struggles begin to intertwine with the social and ethnic tensions that were rife in Sri Lanka at the time. On multiple occasions, he encounters hatred between different ethnicities and is forced to navigate his relationships through the Tamil-Sinhalese conflict. Through Arjie's eyes, we witness the complexities of growing up in a society where rigid norms and expectations shape one's sense of self. Selvadurai expertly portrays the conflict between Arjie’s internal truth and societal expectations.
The latter half of the narrative begins to focus on political strife and Arjie’s exploration of his sexuality. His relationship with Shehan, a classmate from his new school, plays an important role in his self-discovery. Although conflicted and guilty at first, he slowly begins to accept his homosexuality and realises that his ‘funniness’ isn’t just a phase, as his family believes. The tender moments that the two boys share are contradicted by images of a nation being torn apart by ethnic tensions. Selvadurai’s ability to evoke time and place once again hold us captive as we are transported back in time to war-torn Sri Lanka through his vivid descriptions.
Towards the end of the story, Arjie’s parents are forced to come to terms with the ethnic disturbances around them. As they prepare to flee the country, they get news about Arjie’s grandparents being murdered. They take refuge in their neighbour’s house and watch with horror as their house is burnt by an angry mob. Before they leave the country, during a brief lull in the curfew, Arjie meets Shehan and painfully realises that they have withdrawn from each other.
In summary, Funny Boy follows Arjie’e journey from childhood innocence to the complexities of adulthood, using his experiences to shed light on societal issues like sexuality, identity, and ethnic conflict. Selvadurai’s unmatched talent of storytelling weaves a rich tapestry of characters and emotions, offering us an extremely thought-provoking narrative.
Happy Reading!