Fate is Fate. When Behula’s bridegroom was fated to die of snakebite on their wedding night, did building a steel fortress prevent his death? A magic snake will penetrate solid walls when necessary.
The fortune-teller who predicts that Jasmine will live widowed and in exile refers to a story from the Shiva Purana as an example of the inevitability of fate and how the course set by the universe cannot be altered by human efforts or desires.
There are many things I deserve, not all of them better. Taylor thought dull was the absence of action, but dull is its own kind of action. Dullness is a kind of luxury.
This quote is an early instance of how Jasmine contrasts the Hayes' experience with her own. The Hayeses seek thrills and avoid "dullness" and "flatness," but for Jasmine, who has traversed several oceans in the undercarriage of ships, dullness is a welcomed respite from insecurity and danger.
The villagers say when a clay pitcher breaks, you see that the air inside it is the same as outside. Vimla set herself on fire because she had broken her pitcher; she saw there were no insides and outsides. We are just shells of the same Absolute.
This quote introduces a motif repeated throughout the novel, a truism referenced by the residents of Hasnapur which may, depending on one's interpretation of it, seem awfully bleak, about the futility of upholding or maintaining facades. For Vilma, her shell was the notion that by following tradition and marrying a rich man and remaining pious, she would avoid tragedy and remain in the "good favors" of the gods, but when her husband dies, she sees that its all the same, and all that effort still led to this moment. For Mother Ripplemeyer, maintaining her "shell" consists of trips to the beauty salon.
Out there. I am not sure what Mother imagines. On the edge of the world, in flaming deserts, mangled jungles, squelchy swamps, missionaries save the needy. Out There, the darkness. But for me, for Du, In Here, safety. At least for now.
Jasmine refers to Mother's generalization of places other than America, particularly non-Western, impoverished places, and the way she generalizes their conditions as one unknowable shadow of "Out There."
The incentive, I should have said, is to treat every second of your existence as a possible assignment from God. Everything you do, if you’re a physicist or a caregiver, is equally important in the eye of God.
This quote refers to Jasmine's many conversations with Taylor about the possible role of God and fate in people's lives. Taylor, a physicist, regards the idea of God in a slightly bemused way, whereas Jasmine finds this idea of a mission, no matter how small, life-affirming.
For the uncle, love was control. Respect was obedience. For Prakash, love was letting go. Independence, self-reliance: I learned the litany by heart. But I felt suspended between worlds.
Jasmine compares Prakash's philosophy of love to that of his more conservative, traditional uncle. Prakash's aunt and uncle wish for Jasmine and Prakash to live in their home with them after they marry, but Prakash insists that they have their own place as a way of distancing themselves from what he considers the "feudal" traditions of their upbringings.
I grieved. I read slokas with swamis in mountainside ashrams. For every fish, there is a fisherman; for every deer a hunter. For every monster a hero. Our highest mission, said a swami, is to create new life. How many children do you have? When I bowed my head, he offered prayer.
In the wake of Prakash's death, Jasmine describes her grieving process. She speaks to a swami, who offers a way forward through child-rearing, thus demonstrating how in the ashrams and the traditional culture of Jasmine's upbringing, her primary purpose as a woman is considered to be that of raising the generation rather than steeling herself, bettering herself, and exploring and fulfilling her desires as an individual.
I fell in love with what he represented to me, a professor who served biscuits to a servant, smiled at her, and admitted her to the broad democracy of his joking, even when she didn’t understand it. It seemed entirely American.
Here Jasmine describes the nature of her initial love for and attraction to Taylor, which was not a physical attraction necessarily but a symbolic one. He represents a benevolent, generous, and democratic spirit; loving him was loving the possibility of sharing his ease. It represents the most flowery, optimistic shade of America's mythology of social mobility.
The Chinese I had always thought of as genetically cruel to women and children—even in Hasnapur we knew about foot-binders—and my experience of Caribbeans was a mixture of fear and pity.
These thoughts follow Wylie's assurances that the Hayeses, as a progressive, culturally sensitive family, did not expect Jasmine to be somehow "naturally maternal" just because she's Indian. Jasmine then betrays her own prejudices in narration, exposing some of the cultural biases and stereotypes she was raised with.
I remember the thick marking pen in his hand printing a confident RETURN on packages of books, records, knife sets I’d thought I wanted. The cord feels dusty.
Here Jasmine recalls one of Taylor's lessons to her about ways to manage the onrush of materialism she experiences when she starts earning a steady wage and buying nonsense out of catalogs. He says she can simply "RETURN TO SENDER" the things she realizes she doesn't need. At this point, she's considering leaving Bud, and Taylor is assuring her that she has no obligation to stay. The way her non-committal behavior is reflected as a function of returning merchandise shows how American values differ from the values she was raised with, where obligation, commitment, and sacrifice take center stage.
