While I Was Gone Sometime in 2016

While I Was Gone Sometime in 2016

[I had written this post three years ago, only to have misplaced it on my computer.  Today while cleaning up I realised that I had never got around to posting it, so here goes.]

The problem about multi-tasking when one is not really a multi-tasker is that often something gets neglected, which is why last year for almost six months I was away from this blog.  To make amends I have decided to write about all the books I read during this long hiatus in this single entry, so here goes:

The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins is a real page turner and am so glad that S recommended this book.  I was a bit hesitant to dip into it as the title was too reminiscent of Gone Girl and I thought that this book might be very similar in content.  Just as well I put my reservations aside as this novel was a real gripping read.  Like Gone Girl it is a thriller but quite different and perhaps a tauter book that hooks one immediately.

Resistance by Barry Lopez and Letters from A to X by John Berger, both suggested by V, are akin in the questions they pose, in a world both similar and yet different from my reality.  The former is a collection of short stories wherein the protagonist of each has been labeled an enemy of the state and has to go into hiding.  What is so ominous is that to one, these people have done no wrong and yet their lives are at risk.  Letters from A to X is a collection of letters from a woman to her lover, a political prisoner.  One is never told where they live, though the government is a brutal, dictatorial one, persecuting its citizens where even basic commodities are scarce.  What binds these two engrossing books is that each one in its own way questions totalitarian regimes.

The fact that North Korea might just be more of an enigma more than Uncle Joe (Stalin) ever was is reiterated by two books I read during this hiatus.  The first one is a graphic novel  by Guy Delisle chronicling his time in North Korea (Pyongyang: A Journey in North Korea).  The glimpses of the dystopian world Delisle alludes to is vividly brought to life by Adam Johnson’s oeuvre of fiction The Orphan Master’s Son.  Johnson’s novel is brilliantly crafted to bring to life the horrors of North Korea, once again proving the relevance of fiction.  The book is divided into two parts.  The first part recounts some crazy events through the course of Jun Do’s life peppered with a lot of dark humour.  Interestingly, a lot of the seemingly crazy events actually happened such as the kidnapping of Japanese citizens by North Korea.  In the second section, the book takes a very grim turn, and even though there are lighter moments, the tale remains a dark one.  By the end of the book, I felt that N.Korea is perhaps worse off than Soviet Russia ever was, for no citizen, however loyal, is safe, the moment you have outlived your usefulness to the state you cease to exist. This book coupled with Doer’s makes me feel that The Pulitzer Prize is much more credible than the Booker, for the Pulitzer Prize Winning books that I have been reading are excellent reads.

Everything I Never Told You by Celeste NG is two books rolled into one.  One trajectory charts the misunderstandings in a family that can unfold into an unintended, senseless tragedy.  The second trajectory is that of a mixed marriage in America and the immigrant experience.  The latter is interesting to note, as the experience of the Chinese immigrants to America was in marked contrast to that of Europeans entering the country at the same time.  While the latter were welcomed on large steamers, the former had to make their way in surreptitiously.  Such discrepancies found themselves translated when the American public is confronted with a Chinese professor and his Caucasian wife, a match that raised more than eyebrows in the America of the 60s.  This book in its quiet unassuming manner actually ends up addressing a lot of issues, from familial ties, to racism, to a woman’s role to teenage rebellion.

The next trio of books, read in succession coincidentally, proved to me how little I know about my own country.  In part, such ignorance is because a lot of narratives have never been allowed into the mainstream North Indian narrative.

The Gurkha’s Daughter by Prajwal Parajuly is a collection about Nepalese living in India.  Parajuly has a lovely way with words, yet his stories fell flat.  Each one of the stories began with great promise but unfortunately their endings did not match up to the openings. It’s a real pity that he was unable to live up to the expectations cast as he has touched on some really interesting issues including how Nepalese settlers in Bhutan were evicted from Bhutan and rendered homeless.

Written in Tears by Arupa Patangia Kalita and translated by Ranjita Biswas is an achingly sensitive portrayal of life in Assam during the insurgency movement.  Each story lives on in the reader’s mind.  By the end, one realises how hard life in Assam was for the common citizen, harassed by both the army and extremists.  A book well worth reading.

The Adivasi Will Not Dance by Hansda Sowvendra Shekhar.  I am so, so, so glad that I bought his book.  It’s an absolutely brilliant collection of short stories, each one better than the last.  Apart from shaking one to the core, these stories are so relevant to us Indians, stories that one can relate to as they deal with issues that so prevalent in today’s world.  This collection is a fine testament to the writer’s skills.  I enjoyed this book so much that it has been passed on from friend to friend to cousin to my teenage daughter; each and everyone of whom have been floored by this book. This book is definitely a must read.

The Music Room by William Fiennes is a sensitive account of a family’s life and how they cared for an epileptic child set in the English countryside.

Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi is a fascinating account of the writer’s difficulties in teaching western literature in Khomeini’s Iran.  As a last stand, she and a select group of students set up an undercover book club reading books that were frowned upon.  It was interesting to see how reading literature can be an act of political defiance.  At times the book drags a bit, but is still worth the read.

Crazy Rich Asians by Kevin Kwan is sheer entertainment.  It’s primarily a love story revolving around Chinese jet setters and their crazy lives.  Recommended when you want an easy but fun read.

The Search Warrant by Patrick Modiano fleshes out the few available details of a holocaust victim.  It’s a quick but engrossing read, which drives home the senseless destruction of life by Nazi Germany.

Waiting for Doggo by Mark Mills is breezy read about the add biz with a small role for the dog.  The tiny role for the dog was a bit of a let down as one was expecting to see the dog in the lead role.  That aside it was a cute read.

All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr reiterates the tragedy of war.  This is another Pulitzer Prize winning book, affirming my stand about the credibility of the award.  With two protagonists we get to see the War from two sides: that of the French and that of the Germans.  This is a tale told from multiple perspectives that allows one to understand that the tags of victim and aggressor cannot be uniformly applied to the French and Germans as there were good and bad on both sides.  Definitely a book worth reading about World War II.

The Pregnant King by Devdutt Patnaik is perhaps his masterpiece.  The book is a fictional account set in the world of Indian mythology peppered with references to the epics.  The key question that is posed is what makes one a mother—is it one's gender or the bonds and caring one has for the child.  Do read for all the thought provoking questions posed.

Sleeping on Jupiter by Anuradha Roy is a book to be avoided, as it is more a case of how not to write a book.  The novel begins with a lot of promise but then fizzles out as it devolves into a checklist of issues (including allusions to the Mahabharata), rather than focusing on a few and doing them justice.  In terms of the plot and characters there is a lot of ambiguity.  Roy in the book presents a very western picture of an Indian coastal town as an exotic temple town where no local language is spoken, even the songs sung by Johnny are English.  And then if you move past the exotica, nothing seems new in the book be it the Albino monk so reminiscent of the one in The Da Vinci code, or the pigs in the beginning clearly borrowed from Mr Pip, Suraj drowning and then not quite—one has read a countless of times.  At the end of the book, I really wondered what's wrong with the Indian literati circle—why did they gush so much about this book.  Perhaps here in India, it is more who you are, who your friends are and the picture you present rather than the book you write that matters most.