Who could be deemed more unfortunate than residents of Manhattan belonging to the middle class? This is the central question running through Rumaan Alam’s novel, Entitlement, which is set a dozen years prior, during what he sardonically refers to as “the era of tranquillity under the Obama leadership,” a monotonous chapter in this ever-spinning globe’s chronicles. Brooke, our central character, is a young, sophisticated and influential lady under the guardianship of a wealthy philanthropic magnate. Despite her numerous advantages, there’s a sense of impending doom as the novel, true to the genre of social satire, generally culminates in the most tragic downfall for the leading character.
Alam’s writing exudes an amusing, biting humour. One of the characters he introduces is described as engaging in “non-stop questioning, not unlike a TV show host – an act of benign intent.” The story unfolds in a world where parents stand surety for the rental agreements of their grown-up children and a young African-American girl is able to pursue a degree in art history, a world where stakes seem elevated. Brooke, who was adopted by a white female barrister, is both helped and hindered by her race, from the minor inconvenience of being mistaken for service staff to the advantage it offers in her professional relationship with her benefactor, Asher. Brooke knew Asher would dislike the thought of Puerto Rican youngsters studying iambic pentameter or Cantonese-speaking schoolchildren being trained in violin. He would instead favour stories highlighting African-American kids dealing with their unique problems. However, Brooke’s greatest adversary is not race but wealth. Despite the claim made by Virginia Woolf about the need for every creative woman to have a space of her own, Brooke, due to her financial naivety, struggles to amass enough for a deposit on a small, single-bedroom Manhattan apartment. The economic difference also eats away at her most cherished friendships. Brooke’s boss, Asher, has the financial liberty to donate $10,000 to a dance school for underprivileged girls, while splurging $875,000 on a piece of art he doesn’t even like.
“Entitlement draws parallels to renowned works such as Edith Wharton’s House of Mirth and Sylvia Plath’s Bell Jar. These narratives, focused on maturity and self-discovery, are both set in New York a decade before the time of their creation. Their respective heroines share an association with Manhattan’s most iconic mode of travel – the train. Lily, from Wharton’s work, is seen in a hurry to board the Hudson Line, while Brooke encounters delays on the 6 Local, and Plath’s Esther is introduced in a subway filled with the scent of peanuts. Although the first sentence of Entitlement directly references hers, Alam includes a jokey apology to Plath. Unlike these characters before her, Brooke is not facing expectancy of matrimony; rather, her virtue of honesty is under threat. Her mother expresses her dismay, mourning the large extent of money spent at Vassar, only for Brooke to become a secretary for a wealthy individual.
Caught in the unsettling time between the infamous 9/11 and the present-day oddities, Enlightenment’s hopeful principles, similar to Brooke herself, are condemned to failure. As a resident of cross-town from the location where Brooke was working, I was curious to see how Entitlement would communicate with readers who may not be familiar with such a context. Nevertheless, works of such quality have the ability to rise above individual experiences. I was carried swiftly by the book, entranced by its combination of humor and consistent sense of unease, leading me to read it once again right after. Only after the second reading was I able to relish in its sharpness, appreciating how everyday dialogues are transformed into bright and lively rhythms, unseen characters’ thoughts randomly flash, and the entirety of the narrative expertly intertwined through the indirect comments from the narrator. The eloquence of the book is not compromised due to the strict discipline followed in its making with no superfluous words. Much like New York itself, the memory of Entitlement will persist, in spite of its seeming nonchalance.
Entitlement, a work by Rumaan Alam is about the inevitable end of idealism in Manhattan’s middle class during the Obama years and Mei Chin is a critic.”