Bayou Pages | “The Covenant of Water” by Abraham Verghese

review by Meredith McKinnie

“We don’t have children to fulfill our dreams. Children allow us to let go of the dreams we were never meant to fulfill.”

In Abraham Verghese’s sweeping new novel The Covenant of Water, the real-life physician, turned author, takes us into the story of three generations on the Parambil estate in 1900s India. It opens with 12-year-old Mariama preparing to marry a man almost 30 years her senior, leaving her family for an unknown place, never to return, as is the custom. The opening of the novel feels ominous, even as Mariama seems strong and capable despite only her handful of years. Time moves both slowly, and then speeds up quickly, as Verghese labors through long narratives, only to leap ahead 20 years without warning. Mariama becomes Big Ammachi, named by her stepson Jojo, and we see the next 70 years of tragedy befall this family due to its condition with water – someone drowns every generation. Mariama is both trusting in her faith and frustrated with the fated hardships she can’t seem to overcome. Verghese writes, “Sometimes we have to “live the question,” not push for the answer.” 

Sagas sometimes nail the passage of time, but too often authors muddle with it to the point of reader exhaustion. Just as I was getting invested in a Covenant character, the arc disappeared. I realize this is a side effect of long novels, but I found it frustrating. I debated a few times on whether to even finish the text, considering the book’s 700-page length, but Verghese’s beautiful prose lured me back in. Verghese writes, “Roses would be annoying weeds if the blooms never withered and died. Beauty resides in the knowledge that it doesn’t last.”

This novel involves the interweaving lives of many doctors, including memorable character Digby Kilgour who works for the Indian Medical Service. We see humanitarian efforts on health of leprosy patients, illicit love affairs, and tragedy after tragedy. The characters seem almost imaginary – I noticed one critic suggested reading the text as if it isn’t real. I found myself skimming the long passages of detailed medical procedures, including surgeries and complex diagnoses. If I had one adjective to describe my reservations with this book it would be sluggish – how I felt reading most of the text and how I felt about the story itself. I hesitate even using the term as this book is so beloved by readers. But while Verghese does bring it home at the end with a beautiful, yet again, tragic conclusion, it just was a consistent uphill climb to get there, and one I wouldn’t suggest unless hard, heartbreaking sagas are your thing.  

“To see the miraculous in the ordinary is a more precious gift than prophecy.”