How Does the Concept of Shame Affect the Characters in The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy?
Arundhati Roy’s The God of Small Things is a poignant exploration of emotional, cultural, and social shame. Shame in the novel operates as both an internal and external force that shapes the destinies of characters across generations. It manifests through familial expectations, caste hierarchies, and societal taboos, influencing how individuals perceive themselves and others. This paper examines how shame affects major characters like Ammu, Velutha, Estha, and Rahel, illustrating that shame in Roy’s narrative is both a weapon of social control and a deeply personal burden. Ultimately, The God of Small Things teaches that shame, when internalized, destroys identity and human connection.
Shame as a Tool of Social Control
Shame in The God of Small Things is primarily a social construct imposed to maintain hierarchy and conformity. The conservative Syrian Christian community in Ayemenem enforces rigid moral codes that shame individuals who challenge societal norms. Ammu’s transgressive relationship with Velutha, an Untouchable, exemplifies how social shame becomes a punishment for crossing boundaries. As Roy notes, “They all broke the rules. They all crossed into forbidden territory” (Roy, 1997, p. 31). The community’s reaction—ostracism, violence, and silence—reflects the institutional nature of shame as a mechanism of discipline. Through this dynamic, Roy exposes how shame sustains the caste system and patriarchal order, discouraging defiance and ensuring submission.
Moreover, the caste-based discrimination Velutha faces demonstrates how shame functions as an inherited stigma. His “untouchability” marks him with perpetual humiliation. Even his exceptional craftsmanship and intelligence cannot shield him from social disgrace. Scholars such as Anuradha Dingwaney Needham (2002) emphasize that caste-based shame in Roy’s narrative “embodies the cultural logic of exclusion, where visibility becomes vulnerability.” Thus, shame becomes not only an emotional reaction but also a political instrument that polices class and caste boundaries.
Familial Shame and the Destruction of Identity
Within the family, shame operates as an inherited legacy that distorts love and communication. Mammachi and Baby Kochamma embody generational shame by repressing emotions and imposing rigid values. Mammachi’s resentment toward Ammu’s independence stems from her own experience of humiliation in marriage. Her tolerance of her husband’s violence and later submission to patriarchal norms highlight how shame perpetuates silence (Roy, 1997). Ammu’s attempts to assert autonomy only reinforce her mother’s internalized shame, resulting in a cycle of emotional repression.
Baby Kochamma, too, projects her shame into moral superiority. Her unfulfilled love for Father Mulligan leaves her bitter and judgmental. Through Baby Kochamma, Roy portrays how unacknowledged shame mutates into cruelty. Scholars such as P. K. Rajan (2000) argue that “Baby Kochamma’s sanctimonious behavior masks her deep insecurity and emotional deprivation.” Consequently, Roy suggests that shame within the family suppresses individual desires and fosters hypocrisy, turning love into a weapon of judgment.
Ammu’s Personal Shame and Social Condemnation
Ammu’s life is shaped by the intersection of personal shame and societal condemnation. Divorced and impoverished, she occupies a liminal space—“a woman without a man is like a fish without water” (Roy, 1997, p. 45). Her affair with Velutha brings both liberation and ruin. The shame society places upon her relationship transforms love into sin, leading to her social exclusion and eventual death. Ammu’s internalized guilt after Velutha’s death reveals how deeply shame infiltrates the psyche.
Roy presents Ammu’s shame as the embodiment of postcolonial gender constraints. The female body becomes a site of moral policing, where desire is equated with disgrace. Scholar Brinda Bose (2001) observes that Ammu’s sexuality “destabilizes patriarchal norms by asserting female agency, yet it simultaneously invokes the wrath of a society built on shame and purity.” Thus, Ammu’s tragedy underscores how women in patriarchal contexts are taught to internalize societal shame, even when their actions stem from love and authenticity.
Velutha: The Shame of the “Untouchable”
Velutha’s character symbolizes the external imposition of shame through caste discrimination. Despite his talents and intelligence, he is perceived as inferior due to his birth. His relationship with Ammu defies social hierarchies and therefore becomes a source of scandal. The public humiliation and brutal death he suffers expose how shame is used to justify oppression. As Roy writes, “They killed him in the night. He was darker than the darkest fear” (Roy, 1997, p. 307).
Velutha’s existence challenges the idea that shame is moral; instead, Roy presents it as a social construct reinforcing inequality. His quiet dignity contrasts with the hypocrisy of the upper-class characters who condemn him. Scholar Meenakshi Mukherjee (2000) notes that Velutha “becomes the moral center of the novel precisely because he refuses to internalize the shame society imposes upon him.” Thus, Velutha’s death is not merely a personal tragedy but an indictment of a culture that weaponizes shame to maintain power structures.
Estha and Rahel: The Inherited Burden of Shame
The twins, Estha and Rahel, inherit the emotional residue of their mother’s and society’s shame. Estha’s silence after being molested by the Orangedrink Lemondrink man symbolizes how shame suppresses truth and voice. Roy writes, “It wasn’t a secret. It was a shame” (Roy, 1997, p. 112), encapsulating the paralyzing power of shame in childhood trauma. His muteness reflects how victims internalize guilt for acts committed against them.
Rahel’s bond with Estha is deeply influenced by shared shame and loss. When they reunite as adults, their relationship reflects both healing and the lingering weight of unspoken trauma. Scholar J. D. Mukherjee (2001) observes that “the twins’ incestuous act is less about taboo than about reclaiming wholeness after years of internalized shame.” Their love, forbidden yet pure, symbolizes resistance against the emotional fragmentation imposed by social norms. Roy suggests that only through confronting shame can the twins achieve emotional reconciliation.
Shame, Memory, and the Silence of Trauma
Roy uses narrative fragmentation and nonlinear structure to mirror the disruptive effects of shame and trauma. The novel’s circular storytelling—oscillating between childhood and adulthood—represents how memory is haunted by unprocessed shame. Each recollection revives suppressed emotions, revealing how shame resists temporal closure. The fragmented narrative style thus becomes a metaphor for psychological disintegration (Roy, 1997).
In this context, silence functions as both a refuge and a prison. Estha’s muteness, Baby Kochamma’s denial, and the family’s collective refusal to speak about Ammu’s affair all illustrate the destructive power of suppressed shame. Scholar Rukmini Bhaya Nair (2002) argues that “Roy’s narrative silence embodies the unspeakability of shame in postcolonial India.” By intertwining shame with memory, Roy exposes the lasting psychological scars of moral repression and social exclusion.
Conclusion: Shame as the Core of Tragedy and Resistance
In The God of Small Things, shame operates as both the cause of tragedy and the catalyst for resistance. It enforces conformity but also reveals the fragility of moral authority. Ammu and Velutha’s defiance, though punished, challenges the legitimacy of a society built on humiliation and exclusion. The twins’ eventual reconciliation demonstrates the possibility of healing through acknowledgment rather than denial. Roy thus transforms shame from a symbol of defeat into a commentary on resilience, love, and human vulnerability.
Through her exploration of shame, Arundhati Roy critiques the social, cultural, and emotional structures that perpetuate inequality. The novel teaches that shame, when left unexamined, destroys lives—but when confronted, it unveils the deepest truths about human connection. The narrative’s enduring relevance lies in its universal message: liberation begins with dismantling the walls of shame that society builds around love and freedom.
References
Bose, B. (2001). Transgressions and Resistances: Re-Reading Arundhati Roy’s The God of Small Things. New Delhi: Oxford University Press.
Dingwaney Needham, A. (2002). Caste, Gender, and the Politics of Shame in Arundhati Roy’s Fiction. Modern Fiction Studies, 48(4), 857–884.
Mukherjee, M. (2000). Postcolonial Realism in The God of Small Things. Indian Literature, 44(3), 105–116.
Mukherjee, J. D. (2001). Family, Shame, and Transgression in The God of Small Things. Journal of Postcolonial Studies, 3(2), 45–60.
Nair, R. B. (2002). Narrating the Unspeakable: Silence and Shame in Roy’s The God of Small Things. Journal of Indian Writing in English, 30(1), 15–29.
Rajan, P. K. (2000). Colonial Shame and the Reproduction of Patriarchy in Roy’s The God of Small Things. Social Scientist, 28(9–10), 23–39.
Roy, A. (1997). The God of Small Things. New Delhi: IndiaInk.