Love in Burma

Tin Win, a prosperous New York émigré lawyer originally from Burma, suddenly goes missing. His American wife and their grownup daughter Julia are as mystified by this turn of events as anyone else. Investigations yield a trail of flight and hotel bookings that goes cold in Bangkok. What becomes clear is that Win, of his own accord, chose to vanish without informing his family. Four years pass before his wife gives their daughter an unmailed letter she has had in her possession for a couple of decades, penned by Win and promising his childhood sweetheart he will return one day. It is addressed to a lady named Mi Mi, in the hill-town of Kalaw, and Julia wastes no time in leaving in search of her father and his Burmese past.

Upon arrival she goes to a ramshackle teashop where a courtly old man by the name of U Ba greets and tells her in ornate language that he has been expecting her. Over the next few days, U Ba proceeds to narrate to Julia the love story of Tin Win, an orphaned boy who went blind, and Mi Mi, a beautiful girl with defective feet who had to crawl on all fours. A sceptical Julia initially tells U Ba, who essentially narrates the novel to her, that she doesn’t believe in fairy tales–but later, she feels the story has ‘cast a spell’ over her.

Set in semi-rural, pre-World War II Burma, Jan-Philipp Sendker’s story of love and loss has the quality of a fable. Originally written in German, this debut novel has sold over 2 million copies across the globe since it was first published in 2002, and inspired a sequel, A Well-Tempered Heart. Part of the book’s appeal lies in its straight plot and uncomplicated characters, making it read like a folktale.

It is the story of a blind boy, whose blindness was foretold by an astrologer, and a crippled beauty who he lugs around on his back while she acts as his eyes. They have no other defect in appearance or character. The girl is very beautiful; the boy is brilliant. Abandoned as a child by his mother, who holds him responsible for his father’s death, he is brought up by a kindly lady. There is also the venerable old seer in the local Buddhist monastery—with a backstory of his own profligate past—who takes the boy under his wing.

Win develops a keen sense of hearing to compensate for his blindness and then, quite remarkably, gains a sixth sense to clearly hear the heartbeats of other people even when they are not standing next to him. Here he is, newly blessed with this extraordinary ability: ‘[T]he first thing he noticed was a perpetual thrumming on all sides. All the hearts of passersby. To his astonishment he observed that no two sounded alike, just as no two voices did. Some were clear and light, like children’s voices, while others beat wildly, hammering like a woodpecker.’

Just when things are beginning to look good for the young lovers in their Arcadian setting, and they begin to think of a future together, Win is suddenly summoned to Rangoon by a distant uncle who is a business tycoon. Overnight, his life changes. His cataract operated upon, vision restored, and his childless, widowed uncle begins to make ambitious plans for him; the boy is too polite and indebted to him to demur.

There is no contact between him and Mi Mi because, unbeknownst to them, their letters to each other are intercepted by the uncle. Two years pass and Win sets sail to study law in New York. Despite the depth and purity of his love for Mi Mi, and the fact that he is now a grown man who should be able to act on his own at least sometimes, fate conspires against Win—he is not coming back to her anytime soon.

Decades pass before we find Julia listening raptly to U Ba. Has her father come back to Kalaw after all these years to seek Mi Mi once again? Where is he? Julia is anxious for answers, but U Ba is a patient storyteller and expects the same patience from his listener as his tale unfolds.

Despite an affective ending, accessible language, and the profusion of characters and stories, The Art of Hearing Heartbeats fails to satisfy. This romance is not quite convincing because, ultimately, neither the plot nor the characters come across as believable. For all the description and attempts at delineation, the characters remain one- dimensional, failing to evolve or develop much as the story progresses. The plotlines too mostly feel static. For instance, a central conceit of the novel is Win’s ability to divine things by listening to heartbeats, but this supra-natural ability of his doesn’t propel the narrative at any point. It is reduced to a pointless device that sheds no light, serves no purpose. Perhaps Sendker realised this when he observes towards the end (though, in a different context): ‘Hearts sounded different from person to person, betraying age or youth, joy, sorrow, fear, or courage, but that was all.’

A Well-Tempered HeartbooksJan-Philipp SendkerThe Art of Hearing Heartbeats