F. Scott Fitzgerald - The Great Gatsby

Glitz. Glamour. A love that has survived the War. Extra-marital affairs. Grand parties. Opulence. Alcohol. A yellow Rolls Royce. Chauffeurs. Friendship... and New York in the 1920s (the 'Jazz' age). This pretty much sums up 'The Great Gatsby' - a classic piece of literature from the 20th century.

The story revolves around the rich and glamorous party-goers in New York in the 20th century - in a time when alcohol has been prohibited, when the economy is buzzing (post World War I), and when people are enjoying life to the fullest

The book starts off on a note that grabs the reader's attention, and instinctively makes them want to flip over the page, to figure out what the narrator is 'reserving judgment on':

In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since. 'Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone,' he told me, 'just remember that all the people in the world haven't had the advantages that you've had.'

And then the story kicks off, with the introduction to Jay Gatsby - the narrator's (a 22 year old Nick Carraway) wealthy neighbor. Gatsby is an important part of the circle of the rich and famous socialites in New York. Holding alcohol-heavy parties regularly, which carry on 'til the wee hours of the morning, where people turn up, invited or otherwise, Gatsby seems to be at the heart of the socializing. However, ironically enough, he never seems to be drunk or an active part of these parties - instead, he seems to be a mere spectator. No one seems to know who he is, and when Nick asks, people look at him puzzled.

However, there are rumors about Gatsby - his lineage, where he comes from, and where he has earned his money. People indulge in hyperbolic assumptions and wonderings, which Nick himself is fascinated by. However, as the story progresses, Gatsby tells our narrator about why he purchased his place - it's bang opposite Daisy's house across the river. Daisy, Nick's cousin, used to be Gatsby's lover prior to the war, but when Gatsby left for the War, she married Tom. Tom, also opulent, comes across as obnoxious and arrogant; much unlike Gatsby. He boasts of his mistress, and in fact, insists that Nick meet her.

Gatsby clearly has just one mission: to sweep Daisy off her feet, and make her leave Tom. Tom, in all his arrogance, cannot deal with this, and the book ends tragically, where we come to see that all the wealth in the world doesn't buy friends, and people are quick to judge based on nothing; where people act without thinking of the consequences, and how jealousy and anger combined result in an act of ultimate unfairness. It's this ending that makes the book as heart-achingly sad and depressing.

This beautifully written book vividly brings to life the society of New York in the 1920s. From the fact that women are meant to be beautiful and not much else (I'm glad it's a girl. And I hope she'll be a fool -- that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool. -  Daisy on her daughter) to, people indulging in idle gossip about their host. It highlights the jealousy of a jilted lover, and the passion of an old one. It stresses on pride and money, of opulence and fair-weather friends.

The prose itself is almost like poetry, with some philosophical meanderings, and thought-provoking quotes. A powerful book, this book has made an impression me, like very few other books have.

Overall, an 8 on 10, and a must-read. I'm off to find another book by Fitzgerald now, and it's much to my dismay that due to his death at a relatively early age, there aren't that many.

Gyorgy Dragoman - The White King

Dragoman's The White King is a coming-of-age tale, based in a communist Romania, under the Ceausescu rule. 

11 year old Djata, the book's protagonist, lives alone with his mother, after his father has gone away on 'business'. While his father had told him that he will be back within a couple of weeks, months have passed with no word. 

However, as the book goes on, we learn that his father has not actually gone away on 'business', but he's a prisoner, and is forced to do manual work on the Danube. However, Djata still clings to hope, that his father will be back soon, and they can continue making plans together. 

While this is the main theme of the book, interwoven are many chapters and episodes, about the boy's life, growing up in a communist state. Occasionally reminding the reader of Mark Twain's Huckleberry Finn, the truants and events described in this book range for terrifying to humorous. Each of the eighteen chapters holds as a short-story of its own, linking to the main story in bits and bobs. It tells of the sadistic football coach, contractors forcing schoolboys to carry out their task, child-gang 'wars' and bullying. It illustrates the child-like innocence of Djata as he plucks a bunch of tulips for his mother, the brattishness as he steals the white king, in a game of chess against a robot, to ensure he doesn't lose; the gang war that takes place, for the sake of a ball, and the risks the boys take, to ensure they don't get into trouble in school as a consequence of their own mischief. Of course, in the midst of all this is Djata's complex relationship with his family - his grandfather who once had a political career, but has now fallen from grace due to his son's capture; his mother who pines for his father and wishes for him to come home; and the strained relationship between the only two adults in his life. 

This is an insight into childhood in Romania in the 1980s, and how violence breeds violence. It makes the reader wonder whether childhood in that time and age can actually be called that? And, it brings a smile, as it reminds us that no matter what, children will always be children. 

7/10 for me.

Booking Through Thursday - Best Book You've Never Read

 

We’ve all seen the lists, we’ve all thought, “I should really read that someday,” but for all of us, there are still books on “The List” that we haven’t actually gotten around to reading. Even though we know they’re fabulous. Even though we know that we’ll like them. Or that we’ll learn from them. Or just that they’re supposed to be worthy. We just … haven’t gotten around to them yet.

What’s the best book that YOU haven’t read yet?

This is a great question, although it makes me feel like quite the illiterate. These books... you just keep on adding it to your wishlist and you promise it's going to be the next one, but it never is. I hope to finish at least five of the ten books mentioned below this year! And then make a whole new list next year..........

• Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
• The Lord Of The Rings - JRR Tolkien
• Middlesex - Jeffrey Eugenides
• Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
• The Count Of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumus
• Tender Is The Night - F. Scott Fitzgerald
• Half of a Yellow Sun - Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
• The Namesake - Jhumpa Lahiri
• Life of Pi - Yann Mertel
• Shantaram - Gregory David Roberts

I'm going to end this now... I think ten's enough for the time being :) 

Michael Morpurgo - Waiting For Anya

Twelve year old Jo, a shepherd boy, lives in a small French mountain village, during the late 1930s-early 1940s. World War II's broken out, and Jo's father is away in action, while Jo is assuming some of his father's responsibilities, and simultaneously attending school. The War is far away from this village, and to Jo it almost seems quite unreal, and he's unsure of his opinion about it. What Jo thought about the war and about the occupation seemed to depend on whether he had just talked to Maman or to Grandpere: he could never make up his mind.

His mother just wanted the War to end, and his father to come home, whereas his grandfather was eyeing victory.

However, things change drastically for Jo, when he discovers that Widow Horcada and her son in law are smuggling young Jewish children into Spain, in order to help  them escape a worse fate at the hands of the Germans. The Widow is supposed to be an unpopular woman in the village, due to her sharp tongue and dislike for children - The children in the village called her 'The Black Widow', and not just on account of the long black shawl she always wore over her head.

Bernard, the son in law, and the Widow insist that Jo keeps a secret, and Jo, albeit unhappy about lying to his mother and grandfather, agrees to do so. He even takes on the responsibility of helping the Widow with her food-shopping, as more and more children find shelter in her barn. However, when the Germans start patrolling the Spanish border, danger for the children and the adult pair seems imminent. Jo continues to stick to his convictions to help them, at all costs, and earns the trust and respect of the Widow as well, over time.

This is an adventure story, a story about the Holocaust, and World War II. More importantly, it's a story about unity, human nature, bravery, friendship and a child's innocence. It talks about the pointlessness of War, and how both parties stand to lose. It touches upon how some Germans don't understand what they're fighting for, and how they are losing their families and loved ones as well. It poignantly shows the difficulties a soldier faces on coming back home, after four years, when life has moved on for this family, despite his absence. And it is essentially a story about a few people who are ready to sacrifice everything to do the right thing.

A descriptive, eloquently written text, Waiting For Anya is one of those books that is bound to bring a tear to the eye, specially right at the end, when Jo is introduced to Anya, Bernard's daughter. Anya and Bernard left Paris together, but got separated en route to the Widow's place. They had a promise that they'd wait for each other there, and Bernard had full faith that his daughter would be back one day: Two years, ten years, however long it takes. She'll come. And when she does, we'll be waiting for her just like I promised her.

Overall, a 7 on 10 - probably a notch below the likes of The Book Thief and The Boy In The Striped Pajamas, when it comes to children's books based during the World War II era, but, a must-read anyway.

Milan Kundera - The Book of Laughter and Forgetting

This book is a novel in the form of variations. The various parts follow each other like the various stages of a voyage leading into the interior of a theme, the interior of thought, the interior of a single, unique situation, the understanding of which recedes from my sight into the distance. It is a book about laughter and about forgetting, about forgetting and about Prague, about Prague and about angels. That's how Kundera sums up his book, within the text, as he reflects on life, the characters he's created, and how we're all bound by just one thing: the past; which is why, the children are our future. "Children have no past, and that is the whole secret of the magical innocence of their smiles".

The book is divided into seven stories, each independent of one another, but for the fact that the stories are based in and around the same time and place: a Czech Communist state in the 1970s. It's a book about love, about losing, about moving on, about laughing, about philosophy.

I don't know what inspired this book, but it's beautifully written, and I challenge anyone to open a page and not find some quote, reflection or dialogue that completely blows your mind away. The stories are interesting, be it about Tamina, the young widower  who tries to recollect each and every memory of the 'happy' life she shared with her husband, or about litost (a state of torment created by the sudden sight of one's own misery); be it filial love and devotion, or about going to see an old loved one - who the protagonist has truly loved, but never admitted - for his lover's ugly; or, be it about poets getting drunk and talking through the night about nothing at all, but at the same time, talking about everything.

A poet's pride is not ordinary pride. Only the poet himself can know the value of what he writes. Others don't understand it until much later, or they may never understand it. So, it's the poet's duty to be proud. If he weren't, he would betray his own work.

Kundera's observations, as he creates his characters, and gives them life, adds to the charm, specially when he talks about Tamina - and literally dedicates this book to her (in the text itself), while she seems to be a fictional character, consumed by pain and a dire need to forget, and get away. Move on, if you like.

And then there's the misogyny. From the opening chapter, where Mirek is ashamed of his passionate love of Zdena, a woman few years his senior, only because Zdena was guilty of something differently serious. She was ugly, to later on, where a character defends rape, and almost discusses how beautiful it is - because, women are prone to saying 'no', by default, even if they mean yes. Yes, that made me wince.

It's also a book about sex, and seduction. Sometimes, the attempted seduction results in litost, and sometimes, it results in the girl going to the bathroom and throwing up.

Ironically enough, it's a sad, despondent book; beautifully written. It invokes pangs of sadness, moments of reflection, and it does beg the question: what will the future bring, and like children, will I be able to laugh and forget, instead of being weighed down by the past, and subsequently, forgetting to look to the future.

So far, it's the best book I've read this year.

Michael Morpurgo - WarHorse

I don’t know why I picked up this book. It might have been because I’ve got The Butterfly Lion and Private Peaceful on my reading list. It might be because it was the only book that looked tempting at Waterstones the other day (and I couldn’t find a copy of The Great Gatsby - the book I actually wanted to purchase). I don’t know - but, I picked it up, and silently cursed myself, for... the last couple of times I’ve picked up a book without reading any reviews, I’ve regretted it (Suspicions of Mr. Whicher being a prime example). But, this book ended up restoring my faith in impulsive book buying.

The gist at the back of the book only lets you know that it’s a story of “truest of friendships in the worst of wars”. What it doesn’t tell you is, the book is written in first person, and the protagonist is a horse. Does the title of the book give it away? Maybe so - but, frankly speaking, it wasn’t what I expected when I started reading the book, and for a moment I despaired - I mean, not every author is like Sewell, who succeeded in making the story of Black Beauty one of the most loved horse-stories ever. I was prepared for a painstakingly unimaginative pathetic fallacy, where the story has been done in a gazillion other equine-books. But... like I’ve already indicated: the book was a pleasant surprise.

The book follows the story of Joey, a half-thoroughbred, who was bought by a drunk farmer during an auction, only to outsmart one of his rivals. However, the farmer’s son seems to be the diametric opposite, and trains the horse with love and care, and surely enough, the horse reciprocate the feelings:

They (father and son) stood together at the stable door. I noticed with infinite pride and pleasure that my Albert was already taller than his father, whose face was drawn and lined with pain.

One does wonder why on earth they’re training a half-thoroughbred to be a plough-horse, but there you have it.

War (World War I) is on the verge of breaking out, and when it finally does, the farmer sells Joey to the Cavalry, without letting Albert know. This is probably the only time in the book where we see the softer, more remorseful side of the farmer, as he apologizes to Joey, saying he is desperately in need for the money. And so it is - Joey becomes part of the Cavalry, and instantly befriends Topthorn (another Cavalry horse).

The horse, with a penchant for poetic language, describes the horrors and destruction that War brings in its wake, focusing on the emotions, the hardships, the frustrations and the futility of it all, as he sees horses and people dying, guns being fired endlessly, and people (and horses) struggling to find food or warmth in the bitter winter.

Still the guns bellowed out their fury and the ground shook beneath us. We passed the field hospitals and the light guns before trotting over the support trenches to catch our first sight of the battlefield. Desolation and destruction were everywhere. Not a building was left intact. Not a blade of grass grew in the torn and ravaged soil.

As the war progressed,horses were used for transport, as opposed to for charges. When Joey and Topthorn (and their respective riders) are taken as German prisoners of war, the two fine horses end up pulling German ambulances. At that time, they’re kept in stables, for the first time since the war began, and their care-taker is a young girl, who pours affection on them, and always wants the best for them. Again Joey describes why horses like children, their softness and gentleness unparalleled, and allows the reader another glimpse into the psyche of the horse.

The book is heartwarming, and sad, as people die, horses die, and there seems to be a remarkable injustice. But, to be fair, that just about sums up war: where people sometimes lose track of the reasons they’re killing others, and kill only because the other man wears a different color uniform, and speaks a different language. As tragedy strikes, as Joey loses multiple owners, as he’s starved and freezing in the winters, and as he sees his friends losing the will (and strength) to go on, he ends up pushing himself and the reader cannot help but admire the horse: the loyalty, the sense of friendship, and the determination.

This is a story of a horse (surprise!), but more than that, it’s a story of affection, trust, and love - between master and horse, between horses, and between people. The ending stands testimony to that, and somehow, it ends up being a feel-good book, despite the horrors and atrocities detailed and described by the war horse, and war veteran?

Overall, five stars! And yes, I’ll definitely be reading more by Morpurgo.

Haruki Murakami - Norwegian Wood

So far, this year, I’ve read two books that can only be described as ‘coming of age’ books. This year, I’ve read two books based in Tokyo, where the protagonist comes from some small village in Japan, and have come to Tokyo with a purpose. This year, I’ve read two books that have the title of a Beatles song (well, one of them has a title from a Lennon song). And both books have been written by different authors! (The other book was David Mitchell’s Number9Dream. Mitchell’s oftened been likened to Murakami, so...)

As the plane touches down in Germany, an instrumental version of the Beatles’ Norwegian Wood comes on, which results in the protagonist, forty year old Watanabe, reflecting on his college days in Tokyo in 1968, and his two great loves. The book’s title, inspired by the Beatles song, pretty much sums up the story:

I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me...

The two great loves: Naoko, the girl who used to go out with his best friend from high school, Kizuki, who killed himself when he was seventeen; and Midori: the impulsive, slightly twisted girl, who delights in talking about sex and wearing short skirts.

After Kizuki’s untimely and sad death, Naoko and Watanabe lose touch, until they bump into each other on a crowded train. They attempt to revive their friendship, and while they don’t talk much about the only common factor, they start going for long walks and its mostly Naoko that does the talking, and the protagonist that listens. On her twentieth birthday, the two of them end up sleeping together, after which Naoko troubled by emotions and vulnerability admits herself in a sanitarium far away from civilization.

While she’s in the sanitarium, the vivacious Midori befriends Watanabe, and they end up spending a fair bit of time together, talking about life and things. Midori’s a less emotional, more practical girl, who speaks openly about things most other girls would consider taboo (this is highlighted by the fact that Watanabe is surprised about how open she is, specially when she asks him to take her to a pornographic movie). As their friendship grows, so much so that they spend almost every Sunday together, and Watanabe even spends some time taking care of her father in a hospital while she takes some time off for herself. However, while she’s open and shares the details of her life with him, he’s still not told her the truth about where Naoko is, and why they barely spend time together, leading her to believe that she’s a married woman.

In the mean time, Watanabe visits Naoko in the sanitarium, meets Reiko (Naoko’s roommate) and is pleased to find that Naoko is doing better, and he promises to wait for her, ‘til she’s ready to return. He even asks her to move in with him, when he rents a flat in Tokyo. While he visits her, the three of them (Reiko, Naoko and Watanabe) sing songs, with Reiko playing the guitar. The songs they sing include Norwegian Wood (obviously), Michelle, Nowhere Man, Julia, Lemon Tree, 500 miles, and other classics.

That’s who Watanabe is, to both girls: the savior; someone who’s always there, with a shoulder to cry on and a sympathetic ear; someone who is intelligent, and caring. He tries to amuse them with funny stories about his dorm mates, when they look like they need cheering, takes them to porn movies when they want to see one(!), goes to the ‘facility’ a couple of times to visit Naoko, and writes to her every weekend. He even relates the story of Reiko, and how she ended up where she was, after she feels at ease with him and talks to him. In fact, she says that he’s one of those people who’s good, and can save someone from their monsters. However, at this point, I am compelled to say that while some critics have said his character is close to Holden Caulfield’s, I beg to differ. For starters, Caulfield was the one who needed saving in that book, he wasn’t the savior. While Murakami’s tried hard to stress on the fact that Watanabe ‘talks funny’, it’s not “Caulfield”-esque.

This is a sad book, reverberating of death, suicide, losing people and trying to move on. It almost seems like a reprise of Norwegian Wood, which is haunting, and melancholy (and when I awoke, I was alone, this bird had flown). Another property of this book is that it’s full of sex. Unusually so - casual sex, with Watanabe and one of his dorm mates going out to pick up girls for one-night stands regularly, despite Watanabe having Naoko, and his friend a girlfriend. Sex and love are distanced, and at occasions, the author seems to resort to the ‘sex seems like the most appropriate thing at this point’ cliche. At some times, it genuinely surprised me (wouldn’t want to ruin it for you), as did the detail and the emphasis on it. There is also a lesbian scene, detailed, between a married thirty year old woman and her thirteen year old student. It begs the question: Was sex in the 1968-70 Tokyo, in the midst of civil unrest as the students called for a revolution really that casual and indifferent?

This is the first book I’ve read by Murakami, and while I have mixed feelings about it, there is something about the book that makes me want to read more by the author. I can’t quite put a finger on it - whether it’s the simplicity, the beautiful writing, some great music references (from Bach to Beatles to Rolling Stones), or some great literature references (F Scott Fitzgerald, Thomas Mann etc). The characters are interesting, and while I found Naoko slightly annoying (although, to be fair, her character’s witnessed the suicide of her older sister and her high school sweetheart, both of whom had apparently perfect lives), Watanabe a little too goody-two-shoes and Midori half-crazy, at some point or the other, I could relate to and sympathize with all the characters.

Overall, a 7 on 10, and more Murakami on my reading list.

Orhan Pamuk - The White Castle

Pamuk’s The White Castle won the Nobel Prize for literature in 2006, and after reading this book, it is not difficult to figure out why. The Turkish author offers immense insight into the life, philosophies and the psychology of the Hoja (master or teacher) and his slave - a young Italian intellect who was captured by the pirates, and auctioned on the Istanbul slave market. in the 17th century.

The book is narrated by the ‘slave’, who is described as a scientist, a doctor and a scholar. Initially, when he reaches Turkey, he is thrown into prison, and earns minimal money by diagnosing and treating the other inmates. The news of his medical ‘superiority’ spreads far, and eventually, the pasha asks him to diagnose and treat his medical ailments - which the Italian succeeds in. Following this victory, the Italian is asked to help someone who we know only as the Hoja, a courtier to the sultan, who is supposed to create a wondrous never-seen-before firework display. Working together, the two of them manage this great feat, and throughout, the Italian scholar contemplates asking for his freedom as his reward. However, when the time comes, he is told that he can acquire his freedom if he converts to the Islamic faith. When he refuses, the pasha sells his contract to the Hoja, and the narrator ends up becoming his slave. The Hoja wants to use him to gain all the knowledge the narrator has on the science of the Western world. In fact, the clause for freedom is grounded in the narrator imparting all his knowledge to his master.

This is where the story actually builds, and takes shape: in the complex master-slave relationship, where the two men continuously try to play games with each other, to outdo the other, and feel superior. The Hoja is a scientist, a man who yearns to learn, and consistently asks his slave about the Western culture and science. Sometimes, the narrator tells the truth, sometimes he exaggerates it, and sometimes, he merely lies. However, when their games become more psychological, we see how despite everything, the slave still loves his master, and wants the best for him. He tries to encourage the Hoja to play to his strengths, helps him in each endeavor to wow the sultan - from discussing weapons of mass destruction, to try and determine when the plague will leave the city, to writing children’s fantasy stories. The book climaxes when the Turks go into battle with the Poles and want to employ the weapon created by the Hoja in an attempt to destroy the ‘White Castle’ (hence the name).

This book, albeit only 145 pages long, is slow and sometimes painful. It almost seems as if nothing is happening - but, that, I think is the very essence of the book: to capture that feeling of endless waiting (be it the Hoja awaiting a call to the sultan’s palace, or the slave longing to go home). We also see the (in)famous east meets west clash, where both parties feel they are superior to the other, and try to provoke each other into feeling inferior. It explores the challenge of each individual asking the question: “Why am I what I am?” (the Hoja, a proud man always ends up dismissing his fellow countrymen as ‘fools’, who have no keenness towards science), and then... it shows how the two men’s personalities rub off on each other, and they imbibe a part of the other. A beautiful passage is devoted to the sultan entertaining both men, and accurately determining which thought (or action) originated from which person, while the master and slave are engaged in a conversation with him.

This is the first book I’ve read, by a Turkish author, and while I’m none too wiser about life in Istanbul in the seventeenth century, this fictional tale, with its philosophical meanderings has won me over. I’m looking forward to the next book I read by Promuk.

Overall, a 7.5 on 10.

PS: I’m still contemplating on why the book is called ‘The White Castle’ and what it represents. I have a few opinions, but I wouldn’t want to share that, lest I ruin the (semi-predictable) ending.

Kurt Vonnegut - Breakfast of Champions

You know how it is - People recommend a book to you, you read the gist at the back, it looks interesting, you buy it, you live to regret it. That pretty much sums up Vonnegut’s Breakfast of Champions, for me. I read the first 50 pages, and attributed the dullness to the book kicking off slowly. Read the next fifty, and figured, it’s bound to get better. The next fifty was even more painstaking, and by the time I hit the 200th page, I figured this book was as pointless as it gets.

It’s experimental writing - I’ll give the author that. But, that’s about all I’ll give him. The story (if you can call it that?) revolves around two men: Trout, a poor sci-fi writer, and Hoover, a well-off car dealer who’s on the brink of insanity. The story meanders through their lives, and it comes to a close when the two men meet, Hoover reads one of Trout’s books and actually goes over the edge, because he thinks the Creator wrote the book, addressed it to him, and told him how he’s the only human and everyone around him is a machine. Don’t curse me for giving the ending away - the author tells us this almost at the very outset. It’s the meanderings that apparently make the story, not the ending.

The author tries, almost too hard to be funny. He stoops down to the level of illustrating apples, underwear, flags, and actually centers a lot of the book around the vital stats of various women, and men. Completely irrelevant, pointless, and frustrating... it’s supposed to be a social satire. It’s really not. (My two bits).

Don’t even bother... you’ll wish you hadn’t.

Rohinton Mistry - Such A Long Journey

This book is not in the same league as A Fine Balance, or even, for that matter, Family Matters. However, the more I think about this book, the more I appreciate it. Mistry has this amazing knack of bringing to life a realistic Indian society, and how they handle various crises and catastrophes that life brings in its wake.

This book centers around the life of Gustad, a god-fearing bank clerk, who puts trust, loyalty, good work ethic and friendship above all. Despite living in a congested and small apartment in Bombay, where the windows are perpetually blacked out (it’s based in the 1970s India, when war was imminent. However, the windows had been blacked out since the 1960s Indo-China war, and Gustad, much to his wife’s chagrin, had left them in that state, certain that it was only a matter of time before the ‘blackout’ was reinforced), the wall opposite is used as a public bathroom by many people, and the resultant stench attracts flies and mosquitoes, Gustad tries to make the best of everything he has without complaints or regrets. So imagine his happiness when his eldest son, who he always had the highest of aspirations for, gets admitted into IIT, an academic institution renowned world-wide for its superiority.

However, his life soon starts falling apart, with his son suddenly shunning the whole IIT ideology, and wishing to remain an Arts student in his present college, his nine year old daughter having some mysterious illness which the doctor is unable to diagnose, and an old friend who he hasn’t heard from in many years, asking him for a favor that seems to have its roots in some corrupt activities. And if that’s not bad enough, his present-day closest friend seems to be very ill, and hiding his illness behind a facade of sorts.

Gustad attempts to do the right thing: help his friend (against his better judgment), and pray continuously, hoping things will turn for the better. He meets an old friend in the local market, who accompanies him to a church where miracles are known to happen. On the other hand, his wife, influenced by one of their neighbors, is convinced the horrors that is affecting her family is being caused by an inauspicious ‘evil eye’, and she follows directives provided by the neighbor to cast off this evil eye.

This book is descriptive, seemingly accurate in its narrations, and is beautifully written - the funeral scene/’Tower of Silence’ scene specifically comes to mind. The characters are well-drawn, and well-built, and as the story unfolds, you can’t help but admire Gustad who continuously adheres to what he believes in, and genuinely attempts to make the world around him a better place.

This is not a feel-good book. It’s a book about India in the 1970s, where the government is corrupt, and money meant for the greater good is channeled to the secret bank accounts of the then Prime Minister, Indira Gandhi. It’s a book about a middle-class family who try to stay together, while the world around them is falling apart. It’s about friendship at its very deepest. It’s about seemingly silly superstitions, albeit the ‘remedies’ actually seem to work. And it’s a book about humanity, morality and integrity in a world tainted with greed, corruption, selfishness and if I may say so - the ‘evil eye’.

Overall, a 7.5 on 10. And yes, I’d definitely recommend Rohinton Mistry. The more I read books by him, the more I like them... which is saying a lot, considering the first book I read by him is probably proclaimed his best!

Alice Sebold - The Lovely Bones

This is Sebold’s debut novel, and while there’s lots of loopholes in the story, the premise in itself is interesting.

A 14 year old girl is raped and killed by a neighbor on her way home from school, one evening. In the story, the girl, Susie Salmon (the book does start: My name was Salmon, like the fish; first name, Susie), observes her family and her friends in the aftermath of her disappearance, from heaven, as they struggle to come to terms with it, and deal with it in a variety of ways. I say, ‘her disappearance’ as her body is not found, all the cops find is an elbow, which they identify as hers.

While the family falls apart; with the mother leaning on the cops for support, and eventually running away to California; the father correctly suspecting one of the neighbors and being hell-bent on proving his guilt; the sister swinging between missing her older sister and dealing with people staring at her and only noticing her dead sister; and her younger brother not knowing why his sister isn’t coming home. A very unlikely person takes on the role of trying to bring the family together...

The story touches on many interesting ideas, like how the dead watch their near and dear ones and want to be close to them, as much as possible; as well as, how their near and dear ones can actually sense them at times. It addresses ‘the cold chill’ that people feel when someone dies, and the soul touches them on its way to heaven, and how they’re perpetually haunted by them (imagine being a doctor in the ICU!). There are also traces of wistfulness in Susie’s narration, as she sees her friends and sister growing up, going to college, having their first love and everything else which she’ll never be able to do. Some of the detail and emotions present in the book (specially in the first chapter, when the rape and subsequent murder actually happens and the family reports her missing and later on, when her father remembers her) is well carved out (excuse the crass pun), and beautifully written. It does remind us that the author herself was a victim of sexual assault during her college days.

However, like I said, the premise is interesting, but... the book doesn’t work like a mystery story with people being intent on finding the guilty party (it only seems important to the father and sister). Then you have the whole chapter where Susie occupies her friend’s body, to kiss her crush, which, in my opinion, is pushing it. It’s not supposed to be the X-Files after all. And of course the whole idea of an ever-expanding heaven just seems like overkill.

It’s a book with potential, probably well-written for a first novel. Overall, a 6 on 10?

Kate Summerscale - Suspicions of Mr. Whicher

A book with so much potential, and a book I struggled to finish... I just finished it because I hate leaving books half-read.

The author (Kate Summerscale) writes about the non-fictional Road Hill House Murder, also known as the case of Constance Kent. A young boy is murdered by one of thirteen people in a house, and a detective from Scotland Yard (Mr. Whicher) is assigned to the case, six weeks after the actual murder took place. The local police are an incompetent lot, who try to undermine the value of Mr. Whicher, which the latter attributes to jealousy.

A proper whodunnit, this book could honestly have been one of the most gripping mystery books around. However, the author has focused on Victorian social values, details into the emerging field of detectives and the Scotland Yard, and she freely discusses other cases and murders of the time. This obviously causes a break in the story, and draws the reader’s attention away from the main plot: who killed Saville Kent? The point is, that’s what this book is about! Why try to meander around the subject, and have lots of filler-kind of writing? It’s almost like a student dissertation, where she’s struggling to make the word count.

I concur, a lot of research has gone into it. However, this book’s touted as ‘The Murder At Road Hill House’ and not, ‘Mystery Solving in the 19th Century’. It’s factual, with no imagination whatsoever. Just a little hyperbolism always helps a mystery book - but this is banal, dull, and well, I regret ever buying it, let alone reading it. Ironically, it’s probably one of the most expensive paperbacks out there - I actually voluntarily paid thirteen quid for it, and spent over five hours reading it. Thank god time’s not money, for if it were, I’d be broke by now. Five hours of my life I’m not getting back (and that’s after skim-reading the last 200 pages)!!

Overall, a 3 on 10, and the 3's only for all the research effort put in.