Thoughts on The English Patient (a departure from my book reviews)

 I found myself rewatching The English Patient after a really long time.  No doubt it is a beautifully shot film with a superb cast; one of the few films that does the book it is based on justice.  The romantic in me still sighed the way I did all those years ago when I first saw the movie. However, the middle-aged wise woman in me began questioning the film.  I could not help wonder whether Katherine and Almasy would have fallen for each other if they were not so good looking; after all pudgy Colin Firth was really no match for lean Ralph Fiennes.  Moreover, I was wondering what sort of love was this--it seemed just physical, where was the meeting of minds?  Clearly, at this stage of my life I realise that good looks are great but more attractive would be a keen mind, (with the added bonus of being packaged in a gorgeous body); a sentiment best summed up by a favourite character of mine--Dr Yang:  "Oh, screw beautiful. I'm brilliant. If you want to appease me, compliment my brain".

Jaipur Literature Festival 2024

 

Jaipur Literature Festival 2024….the middle-aged me was quite content to watch the JLF sessions online from the comfort of my cosy home.  The mere thought of early morning dashes and seat grabs was enervating enough, forget the reality on ground.  The literary eager beaver in me though was determined to catch as many sessions online.  While I did not find this year's line up the most exciting, I nevertheless ended up watching quite a few sessions and would have seen a couple more had they been telecast on the festival website.  In keeping with my yearly tradition, here's my account of the good, the bad and the ugly at JLF 2024.

Paul Lynch's session on Prophet Song was preceded by an engaging introduction by the Irish Ambassador to India reminding us of the shared and yet different experiences of the revolutionary freedom fighters of both countries.  What made me want to read the book was Lynch's serendipitous mention that his formative reading comprised of The Prisoner of Zenda and King Solomon's Mines—two books that I also grew up on and loved!  The guy does have good taste in books.

Bonnie Garmus's talk on Lessons in Chemistry was charming though it did not give one any new insights into the book per se — as there are plenty of interviews of hers available online and having read her book for The Clannish Book Cult one had been through all of those.  What I did find noteworthy was that her book is being studied in boys' schools for 15+ and that one of them even remarked that it was way better than Lord of the Flies.  This revelation made me realise that when trying to update the canon, one should not hesitate to think outside the box.  Also, it was her reference to Eve that made me add that book to my TBR list.  

Jonathan Freedland's talk on his book The Escape Artist about Vrba's audacious escape from Auschwitz and his subsequent attempt to publicise the horrors of the camp was absolutely riveting.  It's amazing how you think everything has been written about a period and then new information comes out adding another layer to the story.  This was one of the books I ordered as part of my JLF haul.  What was a bit disconcerting to observe was the sudden jump in the recording, resulting in a missing fragment of a significant conversation.  The skip occurs when Cohen brings up the current war in Gaza to explain how the Holocaust still propels Jews today to ensure that such a horror would never happen to their people again.  This missing clip felt almost like a censoring of the discourse, intentional or not.  Given the leftist leanings of many of the organisers one cannot help but wonder if it was the former.

Mary Beard's session on the Twelve Caesars was a mis-marketed talk.  Supposed to be a look at how these twelve men were portrayed in art, Beard spent most of her time talking about how the Roman Empire for the most part was quite static.  One con of the JLF telecast online this year was that slide shows were not shown online, which meant one missed out on a huge component of talks accompanied by slideshows.  Having heard Beard on Pompeii at JLF in person many years ago, I was most disappointed; and I was not the only one to be let down by the talk, for I subsequently learned that so was my dear friend AS who caught the talk live.  

Thubron's account of his travels and observations along the Amur river was absolutely riveting and made me want to pack my bags at once and head over there.  I was particularly tickled by the Russian comment on the Chinese being very hard workers but having closed hearts, something I found myself agreeing with since I found the Chinese on the streets not the most friendly or helpful of people during my travels there.  

The launch of the book The Loharu Legacy was all the more fascinating for me, as I found myself connecting various dots.  Dot number one being the total absence of Wazir Khanam from the conversation. Given that she was the protagonist of SR Faruqi's The Mirror of Beauty which was so feted by the Indian literary world, winner of awards, and featured in the JLF festival, it was odd that she was not even mentioned in passing by Dalrymple.  Even odder, given that Dalrymple mentioned how Shamsuddin Ahmad Khan had killed his wife's ancestor the then Chief Resident of Delhi for the East India Company (according to The Mirror of Beauty this was because Fraser was eyeing Wazir Khanam).  The plot thickened further when the present scion of the Loharu family, Durru Mian (who has penned the forward of the book) stated that while some people considered the poet Dagh (Wazir Khanum's son sired by Shamsuddin Ahmad Khan) to be a member of his family, in fact he was not.  Proof of the same being Mian's father's assertion.  Sure some could argue that Faruqi got things wrong, quite possible, though unlikely for such an erudite scholar to do so.  In my opinion, this seemed to be a bit of a case of writing someone out of history.  

How the World made the West was a session that highlighted the current approaches of looking at history in terms of cultural impacts.  Josephine Quinn made some fascinating assertions. Firstly, that the use of the lens of 'civilisation' only gained currency in the 18th Century at the same time that notions of race and nations became important, implying that the civilisational view of history stems from imperialistic ideas and is problematic.  As an Indian, I loved how she mentioned that  India was important in ancient times to the Western ways of thinking.  While Rome had no clear idea where China was, they had detailed knowledge about India, smart!

The Lighthouse Family was one of many books to be formally launched at the festival.  I was intrigued by how this slender novella had received so much attention: a vigorous pre-sale in Delhi and a video teaser to the book by Penguin.  Mystery solved—Firat Sunel, the writer, is the Turkish ambassador to India!!!  While Sunel peppered his talk with insights into his book regarding themes and characters, am not sure whether this is a book I do want to pick up.  I think I will wait for an unbiased review before I do.  

I was so excited to catch Georgi Gospodinov talk about his book Time Shelter, as the novel is sitting on my bookshelf waiting for the right time to be read.  Georgi pointed out how Bulgarians love to complain and are the champions of sorrow.   He mentioned how the novel form is new to Bulgarian literature, which traditionally favoured poetry and the short story. Georgi then cautioned the audience on how politicians use the past as a weapon of propaganda.  This was a session peppered with many interesting observations which I know will make my reading of Time Shelter all the more insightful.  Defintiely a recommended session, enjoyed by both me and my friend Anjali.

Leonardo da Vinci Painter at the Court of Milan by Luke Syson was essentially an explanation as to why Syson is confident that the Salvator Mundi which was recently auctioned off was indeed painted by Leonardo da Vinci. This session was a prime example of why one needs to attend the JLF in person as the slideshow was not visible to the audience at home!  Maybe this is something that could be rectified next year. 

I ended my online JLF fest by attending the panel discussion on Traders, Teachers and Travellers.  Naman Ahuja pointed out how Gandharan art did not just have Roman influences but also Egyptian.  Sureshkumar Muthukumaran, while acknowledging the Indian influence in South East Asia, emphasised how the Indian there had a very local flavour.  I do find it irritating how the Indian influence in other regions is always toned down.  Continuing with this approach in SE Asia,  Dalrymple used this session to question Sanjay Sanyal's view of the significance of Indian raids of South East Asia.  Why are Indian forays questioned and not those of other empires like that of Ancient Rome I wonder?

This year, I had friends and family attending the festival and sharing their feedback with me.  Time Shelter was a hit with Anjali Sethi who also enjoyed the sessions on The Amur River and Black River, and Rajiv and Bhargav's Between Hope and Despair.  According to her, Murugan's session was not that interesting.  I think members of The Clannish Book Cult have oded on Murugan a bit.   She found the session on Yashodhara and Women of Sangha a bit lacklustre.  

Sessions that Reeta Chopra enjoyed were  Prophet Song,  Lessons on Chemistry. She found Writing War interesting along with The Great Experiment: Democracy, Elections and Citizenship and Imagination Muscle.  Her update on other sessions was:

"Heard Hernan Diaz talk about his book Trust today. He was born in Argentina but grew up in Sweden. Speaks Spanish, Swedish n is in love with the English language! Dreams n  writes in English! His writing form has been greatly influenced by Henry James. N his book Trust apparently is 4 books in one, written in a style very much his own!  Also interesting today was Shumona Sinha, an Indian, who writes in French. Her recent novel is  Down with the Poor.  Tania James' Loot n Anjum Hasan's History's Angel also sound like  interesting reads!"

Sessions that I would like catch eventually include: Diaz on his book Trust, John Boyne on All the Broken Places, Galgut on Promise, Theatre of War with Mukund Padmanabhan and Mmhonlumo Kikon.

What I particularly love about JLF is that it gives my reading a focus with a plethora of books to add to my wish list.  Already I have indulged in shopping by ordering Eve, The Great Flap of 1942 (have read two chapters already and have to say it is a really fascinating book) and The Great Escape.  Books I do want to read include: Trust, The Prophecy, Time Shelter (already have a copy at home), The Amur River and His Majesty's Headhunters.

To have caught eleven JLF sessions in the midst of dealing with the hurly burly of Delhi life is pretty good, I must say, and hats off to the JLF team for making them available to literary  aficionados all over the globe!

2023: A recap

Where did 2023 go?  Am absolutely stupefied that I have not uploaded a single post on my blog for the past year.  No wonder I do not get any fresh followers….resolution of 2024: definitely to rectify such lapses, to which end I already uploaded a book review yesterday. As for this post, will do a recap of books I read in 2023:

Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Gramus: my top book of 2023.  A highly relevant tale peopled by quirky, endearing characters.

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tommorrow by Gabrielle Zevin:  A close second for the top book of 2023.  For a non-gamer like me to enjoy a book set in the world of gaming is testament to the writer's prowess.  This is an engaging novel about friendship through its various ups and downs.

The Mountains Sing by Qai Mai Phan Nguyen: an absorbing narrative set during the land reforms of Vietnam.  

Big Swiss by Jen Beagin: An extremely overrated book!  I cannot get over the buzz and hype that surrounds this book. The books' premise sounded like so much fun, unfortunately, it could not live up to such expectations.  Spoiler alert: the writer resorts to a cop out by attributing the protagonist's strangeness to mummy issues!

When the Emperor was Divine by Julie Otsuka:  Another novel which seemed very promising; it deals with the Japanese internment during WWII; but while it did provide one with insights it failed to go beyond that.  What caught my attention though is how the writer clearly referenced Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men; but this is no great American novel even though it deals with the shattering of the American dream.

Island of Missing Trees by Elif Shafak:  Standard novel by Shafak that is engaing and tugs at one's heartstrings but falls short of Forty Rules of Love.

The Blind Matriarch by Namita Gokhale: Delhi's Covid novel serves as a chronicling of life in pandemic struck Delhi.

Summer Fishing in Lapland by Juhani Karila:  A delicious romp in irreverent Northern Finland peopled by both humans and creatures of another dimension.  Great for fans of Gaiman.

We Measure the Earth with Our Bodies by Tsering Yangzom Lama is a really first-rate novel.  It has it all: engaging characters, an engrossing storyline and a variety of themes.  What makes it all the more refreshing is that it is a Tibetan novel that deals with complexities that faces Tibetans today ranging from eviction from one's homeland to art theft.  

The Covenant of Water by Abraham Verghese made it to both Oprah's and Obama's book lists.  While this is not the most sophisticated of novels I have read, I think that the appeal of the book for the Western audience lies in it's exotic Christian world, where strangely enough the Indian is a shadowy backdrop at best.  Change all the names of both places and people and you could be anywhere in the Christendom.  Even the themes are so Christian such as the punishment of adultery or the treatment of lepers.  Not a brilliant book but compared to some of the duds one has read in the recent past not a bad book, just not something I would really reccomend though.  

Day by Michael Cunningham

 For a review of Day by Michael Cunningham please head over to the Overrated page of this blog.  

Febuary--March 2022

Beginning of April means it is time to take stock of my reading over the last two months.  The past two months saw me tackle a diverse range of books across different mediums.   I completed my first audible book: The Lost Daughter by Ferrante.  Simultaneously, I read Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 by Cho Nam-Joo on the Kindle.  Also on the Kindle, I read Pip Williams'  The Dictionary of Lost Words and in actual book form I read Ancient Stone Riddles by Srikumar M. Menon and The Eighth Life by Nino Haratischvili.
Reading The Lost Daughter and Kim Jiyoung at the same time was a real serendipitous pairing in that the two of them are united by the theme of the toll motherhood extracts from women—the sacrifice of their dreams and aspirations and how this can push them over the edge.  The two are stylistically and culturally very different books—the former a conventional novel set in Italy, the latter in South Korea where each assertion is backed by meticulously collected statistical data.  By the time I was finished reading them, I was quite angry about how unfair it is that being a mother means constantly having to choose between oneself and one's child!
In contrast, The Dictionary of Lost Words which does question patriarchy in England does so though a gentler narrative.  A book about the creation of the Oxford Dictionary it serves as a commentary on how women in England were treated as inferior to men reflected in the way the way they were treated and paid in the work place.  The book also raises the issue of the gendering of language with the only words used by a section of society (namely upper class male) making its way to the dictionary, resulting in a fascinating read!
My non-fiction read was Menon's book on Megaliths—a very well written and illustrated book where the writer's enthusiasm for his subject is so evident.  This would serve as a wonderful introduction to the Megaliths of South India—I just wish it was available for purchase (according to the writer there are plans to reissue it as an ebook—hopefully soon)!
March saw me hooked to The Eighth Life: a meaty (at 934 pages) old fashioned novel tracking a family over the generations.  Set in Georgia the book offers a novel perspective on the Soviet years—that from the periphery and yet not quite!  I highly reccomend this book if you are looking to get lost in the pages of a tale for quite a while 😊.  

JLF 2022 Part I

 JLF--it sure is an addiction.  I just can't seem to not attend the sessions and this year is no exception.  The fest this time is being held in hybrid mode, the first few days purely online and then the last five days in person in Jaipur with the sessions being streamed online.

I must confess, after having attended the fest many times in person, I do prefer attending the sessions from the comfort of my home where I have the liberty to mutli-task during a session which not be as interesting as I might have imagined it to be.

So, what are the sessions that I have caught so far?

Yesterday, I caught James Fox's The World According to Colour which proved to be a fascinating session with a lot of trivia on various colours, such as the blue butterfly does not have any blue pigment but is actually brown and its blue appearance is actually a result of scales that reflect the blue or that the Arabic word for green is the shortest line in the Quran.  This is definitely a book I want to pick up to dip into every now and then. Having lost track of time resulted in me catching the end of the conversation with Padma Kaimal on the Kailash temple of Kanchipuram--definitely a book to read before visiting the temple! Elif Shafak's session had me putting her book The Island of Missing Trees on my wish list.  I just hope it lives up to its promise.  

Today, I attended the talk by Marc David Baer whose book on the Ottomans deviates from classical approach of the likes of Bernard Lewis and others who saw the Ottomans through a rather Orientalist lens.  Instead, he presents them as constantly evolving and at its zenith as being a dynamic empire which fostered learning and inquiry and which was a force to reckon with not just on land but at sea too. The end of this session had me adding The Ottomans: Khans, Caesars and Caliphs to my wish list:)  Let's see how many more get added to my list over the next week!  

Definitely, time was well spent while attending the sessions.  The only thing that rankled is how in referring to Indians who challenge the Mughals, Dalrymple referred to them as Hindus!  Clearly the colonial gaze of identifying Indians by their religion rather than nationality continues--but more on that another day!

January 2022

A new year, new resolutions and hopefully plenty of new books.  Fortunately, despite living in a house struck by covid I did manage to read three books in January, not a bad start I would say.  Even better, all three were really good books.

I began the year with Catherine McCormack's Women in the Picture, which was a real eye opener.  She takes off from John Berger by examining how women in Western Art are depicted in the nude as they have no agency and that these were images produced by  men for men.  She then goes onto explain how art normalises problematic attitudes.  What made the book all the more interesting was how she looks at present day media and how it has been influenced by the canon and how certain artists are challenging these tropes.  Even more impressive is the fact that the book is a riveting yet easy read despite all the complex ideas it was dealing with.  Definitely a must read for anyone who is interested in art and culture of the Western world.

2022 saw me return to a French novel after a long time.  Our book club read was Our Lady of the Nile, and by chance the French version was available on amazon.in so I decided to read the book in its original.  This novel is set in Rwanda of the early 80's in a girls' boarding school.  Yet this is no school of innocents and the Hutu-Tutsi conflict overshadows the daily life culminating in a savage denouement.  What I found quite fascinating was how the antagonist Gloriosa reminded me so much of Jack in Lord of the Flies—clearly, even children are not exempt from the depravities humans are capable of.  Recommended if you want to gain an insight into the complexities of the Hutu-Tutsi strife.

Anxious People by Fredrik Backman was the third book I read—-a book that I've been meaning to read for a long time, but finally picked up as I wanted to read it before watching the Netflix series.   Am so very glad I read the book first, as the series doesn't do real justice to the book.  This is an endearing novel that reminds one of the good there is amongst ordinary people and how human connections are so important in lifting one out of seemingly tight spots.  A book that bought many smiles to my face and left me feeling good and happy at the end.  Do read to instill faith in humanity (especially after a bleak book like Our Lady of the Nile).

When We Cease to Understand the World by Benjamin Labatut

 For a review of When We Cease to Understand the World by Benjamin Labatut please head over to the Good Reads page of this blog.  

Wendy Doniger's The Hindus: An Alternative History

Writing this review, makes me feel how David might have felt facing Goliath.  How can one, a layman, have the gumption to take on a world renowned scholar, an accepted expert of her field.  But then, perhaps like David, I know I am right, so here goes (by the way I am also tickled by the interesting reversal of appropriation of religious narratives here).

Banning a book is great for business, for there is always a perverse thrill in indulging in proscribed activities.  So when Anjali suggested we read Wendy Doniger's The Hindus: An Alternative History which was just off the banned list of books, my fellow book club members and I jumped at the opportunity, after all what could be so objectionable in a book on Hinduism.

We were ambitious and decided that it would be one of our summer readings, when the club takes a two month break.  When we met after our sojourn, we discovered that we had all been a tad bit errant and not tackled the mighty tome.  Realising that reading the mammoth book in one go was setting ourselves for failure, we decided that we would read a chapter from  The Hindus: An Alternative History alongside the novel of the month to ensure we completed the book.  As a result, we finished the book in a little more than two and a half years.  

At first, the book seemed fabulous, confirming what we have always known about Hinduism: the way it incorporated any new threat into the fold and the way it allowed each person to choose their own path to salvation.  Of course, every step of the way, Doniger did not shy away from showing how casteism and the patriarchy marginalised so many voices, which we all agreed was a huge failing of Hinduism.  Thus, for the first year of our readings of Doniger we wondered why there was such a hullabaloo about her book.

Then we reached chapter fifteen of the book where Doniger states that the "Orissan temples…may have escaped because they were too remote to attract Muslim attention" (Doniger, pg 443) which made me pause, for I vividly remember the cut off arms and defaced visages of the statues at the sun temple at Konarak.  How then did Doniger contend that these temples evaded any destruction.  

In Chapter sixteen, Doniger makes even more sweeping generalisations displaying a superficial and cavalier handling of history ignoring the complexities that make India.  She contends that with the Delhi Sultanate and the Mughal Empire India finally had "two moments when there are serious contenders for a centre" (Doniger, pg 446).  Evidently, this renowned Indologist is oblivious to the fact that at both such moments there were various strongholds in the subcontinent, most notably of course the Vijayanagara Empire.  It was here that I began to realise that Doniger does not have a nuanced understanding of Indian history and instead adheres to the myopic Delhi-centric view that has plagued historians of yore.  Guilty of the same, she claims that the Turks introduced polo into India (Doniger, pg 453), when the Manipuris had already been playing the game for centuries before.  She then goes on to claim that "Throughout India, Hindu dynasties responded to the entrance of Islam not only by building forts and massing horsemen but by asserting their power through extravagant architecture, most spectacularly at Hampi, Halebid and Badami" (Doniger, pg 468).  This assertion is a gross oversimplification of the complexities of royal architectural projects in India.  Furthermore, I would like to know what Muslim threat were the Chalukyas of the 5th-8th centuries responding to? 

Doniger's Orientalist perspective comes into sharp focus when talking about Indian architecture.  She writes:  "The mosque, whose serene calligraphic and geometric decoration contrasts with the perpetual motion of the figures depicted on the temple, makes a stand against what the early Muslim architects regarded as the chaos of India, creating enforced vacuums that India cannot rush into with all its animals and peoples and colours, and at the same time, providing a flattering frame to offset that very chaos" (Doniger, pg 469).  Firstly, has Doniger not seen the seen some of the most curvilinear, floral designs on these mosques which are themselves so full of motion.  Secondly, most of the craftsmen of these mosques were Indian and the so-called chaos of India was the norm for them.  Then again, this Indian chaos that Doniger sees as a profusion of animals, peoples and colours while foreign to Europeans and Americans, to Muslims of Central Asia and the Middle East would not have been so out of place.

Chapter nineteen is when I found the ultimate proof of Doniger's shoddy scholarship. She begins by glossing over Humayun's blinding of his brother by casting aspersions on Humayun's spirituality (Doniger, pg 531), not acknowledging the fact that Humayun resorted to this act only after a series of betrayals; blinding his brother was the action of a monarch!  She then comments on how Akbar after leaving Fatehpur Sikri moved his capital to Delhi (Doniger, pg 532)—when in fact he actually moved to Lahore.  The final nail in the coffin was when Doniger on page 536 writes that when Shah Jahan "built the great Jami masjid, the Friday mosque, in Delhi he included a rather miscellaneous arcade made of disparate columns from twenty-seven demolished Hindu temples. Despite the alleged aniconic nature of Islam, the pillars are still graced with figures, some of Hindu gods, a few of them still with their heads on."  Having visited the Jama Masjid many a time, I knew for sure that there were no such pillars in the Jama Masjid.  So what was Doniger referring to?  Could it be the Qutub Mosque at Mehrauli?  I then carefully reread Doniger's text and noted an endnote number. I quickly referred to the endnote number 44 and saw that she was referencing page 87 of Partha Mitter's Indian Art.  I immediately checked out the said page (very easily done since I had his book at home) to find that yes Mitter does state that columns from 27 demolished Hindu temples were used in the mosque—the Jami Masjid of Qutub ud Din Aibak: the Quwwat ul-Islam mosque at the Qutub complex, not Shah Jahan's Jama Masjid!  This is an error that no Indologist would make—so how does Doniger get away with it all?

After this chapter, my friends and I found ourselves losing interest in the book and having to force ourselves to trudge through it. The smarter ones of the group  just chucked the book out all together.  As a group, we now realised that we could not trust anything Doniger had to say, even about Ancient India.

So I wondered how could she have made such grave errors, which is when I chanced upon the lecture she delivered for the Charles Homer Haskins Prize in 2015 where she provided a brief of her various learning experiences (the video of the lecture is available on youtube).  Life at university for Doniger was quite an unstructured affair with minimal supervision.  She began as a student of Sanskrit at Radcliffe, followed by life as a graduate student at Harvard where she had no qualifying exams for her Phd.  Her year in India was spent travelling around the country instead of studying Sanskrit.  Given her huge mix-up regarding the Jama Masjid in Delhi referred to above, I do wonder about the nature of her travel.  Her Oxford DPhil was virtually unsupervised, as she would only meet up with her supervisor once a year, which I heard straight from the horse's mouth (if you have read Doniger's book, you will understand what an apt metaphor this is). I guess Doniger's academic laxity at university has resulted in this slipshod approach to scholarship as evident in her not paying careful heed to sources and misquoting from them, in her making broad sweeping generalisations and in being caught in a time warp when it comes to looking at Indian arts.  It probably also explains why when she discusses Hinduism during the Raj her primary reference is Kipling!!!

While writing this critique I stumbled upon Invading the Sacred: An Analysis of Hinduism studies in America edited by Krishnan Ramaswamy which had many criticisms of Doniger.  Chapter seven of the book was particularly revealing as it showed that Doniger's knowledge and understanding of Sanskrit are flawed resulting in incorrect translations—and this was pointed out in detail from findings by Professor Michael Witzel of Harvard University.  

Mistranslations, misquotes, misunderstandings…clearly The Hindus: An Alternative History is a rather questionable book, which at best misinforms and at worst is calculated to mislead.  What is really sad is that most people would consider this volume the definitive work on Hinduism, when it is anything but. 

Apeirogon by Colum McCann

Apeirogon is at its heart a very intelligently crafted novel, which is also so very well written. Reading the book, I found myself alternating between feelings of despair in the sections which deal with  the tragic senseless deaths of the two daughters: Abir and Smadar and those of admiration for the elegance of McCann's writing and the seemingly random but yet so interesting facts he weaves into his narrative.  

On the surface, McCann's novel seems an attempt to present the complexities of the Israel-Palestine issue, while suggesting dialogue as the way out.

However, when chancing upon Susan Abulhawa's critique of the novel (click here to see Abulhawa's review), I realised that perhaps there is more to the book than meets the eye.  Is this indeed a book propelled by pro-Israeli forces?  Are the references to Steven Spielberg in the latter half of the book a result of a film deal between the writer and publisher? What to make of McCann's judicious selection of facts?  Needless to say questions like this brought to mind the age old question of who gets to tell the stories? Is it not possible for an outsider to present an authentic narrative? And what about freedom of expression?

So then, how does one approach a book like Apeirogon, which is so very well written and yet problematic. I guess, as a responsible reader one needs to be mindful of the writer's perspective so as to have a nuanced reading and yet let oneself be free to be transported by the words.

Recommended for when you want a well crafted novel.

The Jaipur Literature Festival 2021

Being the JLF junkie that I am, it was quite obvious that I was not going to miss the fest this year albeit in its virtual avatar.  I cleared my schedule ahead of time for the ten day extravaganza and studied the schedule carefully to strategise which events to attend.  Finally after a long wait, Friday, 19th February arrived and for all practical purposes I disappeared from the home front.  

Day one, in typical JLF style, highlighted the intersection of art and science, what normally are seen as opposed disciplines actually have a lot in common.  Blyth and Blatchford in the inaugural session pointed out the importance of imagination and creativity for both artists and scientists.  In fact, the very depiction of the universe, the way we imagine it has been shaped by the work of artists.  In a similar vein, Carlo Rovelli in the following talk explained how Nagarjuna's notions of interdependence gives us a way of looking at Quantum mechanics!

What draws me to JLF year after year is that it introduces me to writers and books that I normally would not consider.  Books that I really want to read after attending the session this year are Kishwar Desai's biography of Devika Rani based on a careful study of primary sources titled The Longest Kiss.  Another volume I want to read is Mehr Farooqi's Ghalib: A Wilderness at my Doorstep for a nuanced presentation of this most famous poet's life.  The session with S. Hareesh and Jayasree Kalathil on The Year of the Moustache convinced me that there was depth to the book Moustache and I must read it, as it was not the typical award circuit book.  What impressed me most was S. Hareesh's statement that writing a story is a fundamental part of democracy and therefore novels should be a safe space, an assumption that is so often brought into question in today's intolerant world.  Colum McCann's talk on his novel Apeirogon—based on a friendship between a Palestinian father and an Israeli father, both of whom lost their daughters in the senseless violence that afflicts the region—intrigued not just me but my friends too and so now it is our Book Club read for the month of April.  Rodaan Al-Galidi in his talk shed light on the twilight zone that refugees awaiting legalisation exist in for years on end, the subject of his book Two Blankets and Three Sheets.  In contrast, Doireann Ni Ghirofa drew one's attention to Eibhlín Dubh Ní Chonaill’s keen: Caoineadh Airt Uí Laoghaire, again reiterating how little one is aware of literary traditions around the world.  Ben MacIntyre, a JLF regular, is such fun to listen to, his sessions all the more fascinating for the true life spy stories he shares with us.  This time I was kicked to have my question asked to the author (by the end of the festival some q/a sessions were being enabled) all about Killing Eve and its inspiration.  

Now more than any other this is really the time for history lovers, as such diverse approaches to the subject are emerging.  One of these is Yashaswini Chandra's The Tale of the Horse: A History of India on Horseback.  Julia Lovell's Maoism a Global History does what no one has done in one volume, to look at Maoism in its various forms across the globe.  Priya Atwal presents a refreshing perspective on Ranjit Singh's Durbar.  Camilla Townsend's talk about her Cundhill History prize winning work Fifth Sun: A New History of the Aztecs made me realise how much I have to learn and explore—-the dilemma of every bookworm: so much to read and such little time.  A fan of Richard Eaton ever since I read his Sufis of Bijapur while in college, presented his latest book India in the Persianate Age, which relooks at the so called Hindu-Muslim clash of the medieval world which he attributes to the colonial construction of Indian history.  

While the session by Mehreen Chida Rizvi on Jahangir's paintings was pleasing to the eye, there was nothing new that was being presented—if you've read Ebba Koch you know what Rizvi has to say!

Though I am not much of a poetry reader by the end of the festival I was really inspired to explore some.  In particular, I can't wait to read Rupert Snell's translations of Bihari Satsai especially after he explained how rich and difficult these poems are to translate.  Mahmood Farooqi talking about his uncle the later SR Faruqi not only reminded me that I needed to read the latter's Mirror of Beauty but also had me wanting to read his translations of Mir.  The dohas of Abdur Rahim are also another work I want to explore, especially since I have been driving past his tomb ever since I can remember.

Apart from providing leads on what to read next, JLF has always been a place of learning for me.  While the session with Amita Baig and Tripurdaman Singh on The Taj Mahal highlighted the dilemmas that the city of Agra has faced because of the presence of theTaj, such as the shifting of traditional industries, which are often glossed over.  On the other hand, with Meelis Friedenthal one gained a glimpse of Estonia of yore where the upper class members of society were not Estonians.  The sessions by Kevin Barry and Mark Haddon were interesting but the highlight was the one with Colm Toibin for one truly felt in the presence of a literary master.

It was while attending the session on Phoolsunghi that the limitations of the online version of the festival really hit me—the absence of a q/a session with the speakers, especially since I had been waiting to ask Choubey a question regarding the novel.  

Also, the festival literally proved that money talks, for while each session was carefully monitored to ensure that time frames were not overshot, Bill Gates was allowed to speak at length, cutting into the following session. 

So at the end of the experience, which do I prefer….the physical JLF or the online one?  That is a tough choice.  While the virtual festival saved me a lot of time and money as no travel was involved and I no longer had a hassle of finding a seat at the venue; the in person experience of interacting with authors or browsing in the bookstore (though there was a virtual bookstore) was missing.  Moreover, the sessions were a bit shorter and most did not have a q/a which one did miss.  Given a choice next year what would I do, probably attend the virtual session for its convenience as I have attended the festival a number of times in person and am now after a year of Covid quite attuned to the virtual world.  

Ladakh a Wanderer's Spectacle by Nabarun Bhattacharya

The present pandemic has rendered most of us armchair travellers, attempting to slake our wanderlust by poring through a variety of travelogues.  I chanced upon this particular book in the library and am so glad I picked it up for it's not the traditional coffee table book. Yes, it does have gorgeous drool-worthy pictures of Ladakh which does make one feel all the more terrible to be stuck here in the dreary plains.  More than the pictures I found myself pulled in by the writer's account of a faith-healer's session.  At the end of the book I was swept by the realisation of how brutally frank the author has been about himself. It was with a heavy heart that I put the book down knowing that there would be no more, for Bhattacharya died before he could complete this book at the age of forty-seven.  I am so glad that the Niyogi Books decided to publish this book posthumously for it is a most worthy addition to the existing literature on Ladakh.

Firefly Lane by Kristin Hannah

 For a review of Kristin Hannah's Firefly Lane head over to the Overrated Page of this blog.  

JLF 2021--Two days to go!!!

Just two days to go for this year's edition of the JLF.  Needless, to say Covid has done what nothing else could—make JLF go online.  In all fairness, JLF was quick to adapt to the new normal and had started streaming live sessions with writers under the JLF Brave New World series from April 2020, providing all of us in lockdown times something to look forward to.  Continuing with the online model, from Friday one will see the JLF in its new avatar—online over ten days…instead of the usual six!  I am definitely looking forward to the fest. However, before lauding JLF for being so cautious regarding Covid and therefore taking the festival online, do bear in mind, JLF conducted a private 2 day in person festival at Mehrauli, not very responsible I would say!  Then again, given the state of the Indian public who is behaving as if there is either no Covid or they are immune to Covid, how can I expect anything else from JLF which has such a desi soul!!!  Now in case you are feeling sore at having missed some of the sessions, fear not…they are all part of the 10 day online extravaganza.

 

January 2021

 A new year, new resolutions, new books to read.  This past month I read three books, each one was enjoyable for different reasons.  Here are the books I read:

Sudden Death by Alvaro Enrigue

It is one thing to present a possibility of what might have happened…but as a reader what do you do with a book that presents events involving historical characters that could never have happened…and yet manage to present a very plausible reason as to why things are the way they are?  In the case of Sudden Death, Quevedo and Caravaggio could never have met; and yet the outcome of a tennis match between the two explains the former's prejudices so well. And also, what do you do with a book that poses many a  question such as what did happen to Anne Boleyn's hair?  But more importantly what is the book trying to convey?  In the words of Enrigue, when he wrote the book he was angry because the "bad guys always win"; elsewhere he commented, "a whole host of people can manage to understand absolutely nothing, act in an impulsive and idiotic way, and still drastically change the course of history".  Enrigue seems to suggest that the world as we know it is the result of totally unplanned, random juxtapositions/confluences/meetings changing not just the lives of people but maps and canvases and objects of the world?  Despite all these questions, this novel was a wonderful, exhilarating, refreshing read; it is always so exciting to see how the form of the novel can be experimented and tweaked with.  After all how often does one come across a novel featuring Anne Boleyn's hair, tennis, the Conquest of Mexico by Cortes, the Counter-Reformation, Caravaggio and the Spanish poet Quevedo?

Bhairavi by Shivani

Bhairavi: The Runaway by Shivani, translated from the Hindi by Priyanka Sarkar

Shivani is a writer one has heard a lot about but been too afraid to pick up as her books are in Hindi.  When I heard about Bhairavi now having an English translation, I leapt at the chance to finally read one of her books.  Not being pressed for time, I decided to challenge myself and read the Hindi original simultaneously with the English translation.  Lo and behold, this exercise finally made clear to me my friend's reservations about reading a translation, for Sarkar's translation of Bhairavi is a clumsy one which fails to do justice to the rich evocative language of the original.  Initially I thought that perhaps Sarkar was a writer who was not too comfortable with the English language, but then I read her preface to the novel and realised that was not the case.  More galling is how she positions information differently in the translation from the original—most evident being the very first paragraph of the book (spoiler alert: the original just mentions a woman in pain while the translation mentions that the same woman was an accident victim—thus, reducing the mystery of the woman in the translation).  Even more mystifying was the fact that Shivani's daughters Ira and Mrinal have given her access to Shivani's papers and have endorsed this translated volume.  The act of translation is an art that not everyone has mastered, clearly not Sarkar, which is such a pity as Bhairavi deserves so much better.

As for the original novel itself, while many of the Hindi words were unfamiliar to me,  I found myself slowly lost in the sounds of the poetic language, rich descriptions which created vivid images in my mind.  Initially, I was slowly making my way through the novel but towards the end I was in a tearing rush to find out how things would work out, or not.  On reaching the end, I found myself very, very angry; not with the book but with the reality of Indian society that Shivani presents one with—men unable to control their lust and the women who pay the price for that, while the men carry on with their lives as if nothing had happened!  Apart from the plot, Bhairavi provides a window into Kumaoni culture and life in an ashram of Aghori yogis.  While one may like to think that this is a dated perspective of Indian society (1978), deep down not much has changed unfortunately.

Romancing Mr Bridgerton by Julia Quinn

Dear Reader, I have a confession to make: I too have succumbed to the Bridgerton mania courtesy Shonda's latest venture.  Season one of Bridgerton, left me wanting to know more and so I had to pick up the fourth in the Bridgerton series, Romancing Mr Bridgerton as I wanted to know how Penelope and Lady Whistledown's column would unfold.  Being a Regency romance, this was a quick read and reminded me why I read so many of them in my youth…an easy read featuring some gorgeous men…a most soothing balm in frayed times. Intellectuals may frown on my reading tastes, but frankly I do believe that every type of book serves a purpose and this did prove most delightfully entertaining!

Readings in the Times of Covid-19: Part II (and hopefully the last!)

It's December now and one is nearing the end of 2020, please let the good times recommence!  While one is waiting for an end to Covid, I figured this was a good time to take stock of my readings since the last post.  

Continuing with the theme of travel writings I picked up Rory Stewart's The Places in Between alternating it with Frederick Starr's Lost Enlightenment: Central Asia's Golden Age from the Arab Conquest to Tamerlane which proved to be a real serendipitous pairing: reading about the dazzling past of Central Asia in Starr's book juxtaposed with the grim present day reality of one of the most traumatised areas of the region—Afghanistan—as recounted by Stewart.  With Stewart's book I was delighted to have finally found a travelogue this year that does what it should: transport one to another land—so needed in the these times of house arrest.

After this pair of books, I reverted back to fiction and read the following:

The Secret of Santa Vittoria by Robert Crichton 

This book had been highly recommended by my aunt MP and was well worth the read.  This was quite a rollicking yarn about an Italian village hiding their precious wine from the Nazis.  While The Secret of Santa Vittoria could have just remained a facile tale, Crichton does not shy away from the grim realities of World War II, thus reminding the reader that sorrow and laughter can co-exist, a lesson that proves to be all the more relevant in these times. 

The Prospect of Miracles by Cyrus Mistry  

A slender novel set in Christian Kerala.  This was an interesting read about all that can go wrong in a family, all the while providing a window into life in Christian Kerala.

The Unlikely Adventures of the Shergill Sisters by Balli Kaur Jaswal 

I picked this up looking for a mindless but entertaining book. A story of three sisters forced to embark on a trip by their deceased mother, this read more like a rather boring travel blog. Jaswal does manage to redeem her novel with a twist at the end which anchors the book in the sombre reality that is the Indian patriarchy.

Straight to Normal: My Life as a Gay Man by Sharif D. Rangnekar 

A brutally candid memoir that made me realise how sheltered and unaware I have been about Delhi and her LGBTQIA+ community.  The book showcases how difficult it is for the LGBTQIA+ community to find a loving companion.  Both laws and societal norms have been stacked against members of this community from finding a partner in the normal course of life. Instead, they had to depend on furtive meetings in parks after dark, helpline groups or specially organised parties where there were always unscrupulous people waiting to take advantage of an innocent.  I think this is a must read for any Delhiite to understand the different harsh and cruel realities of one's city.

BearTown by Fredrik Backman

This was not the feel good book that I was looking for.  It was a book that made me angry, so very angry. A tale about date rape and a town's reaction to it.  At the end of the day, no matter where in the world one is, women are always vulnerable and considered fair game.

The Lying Life of Adults by Elena Ferrante 

Great expectations are often not a great thing as they have a tendency in resulting in great letdowns, such was my experience of The Lying Life of Adults.  On its much anticipated release, I   rushed to the bookshop to pick it up and started reading…and soon I found that I really had to push myself to read the book as it wasn't very engaging.  While it is, I guess, a coming of age story, it seems to be more about how parents' divorces mess up their kids who then lash out through sexual escapades; basically, a rather Freudian take on teenagers.  Ferrante seems to write more to shock than to engage and at the end I was left confused and wondering what was the point of it all.  Read only if you have nothing else to pick up

Happiness, As Such by Natalia Ginzburg

Would this be the redemption of Italian novels?  Having heard a lot about Ginzburg, I figured I was in safe hands…or was I?  I kept turning the pages, waiting for everything to make sense, only to reach the end and wonder, so?  This book might work for many, but not for me, sure the randomness of events may mimic life…but it did not make for a very interesting read.  

Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh

A book that numerous writers referenced at the various sessions at JLF, that when I had to read a banned book for my book club, I figured this was the perfect opportunity to read Waugh.  Yes, Waugh has that typical British command over the English language and I guess captures life in Oxford in the inter-war years rather well and does bring to life rather eccentric characters. Its facile ending, spoiler alert, of conversion to Catholicism by a protagonist who had no interest in the faith, was rather trite and just did not seem very realistic.  At the end, I guess the virtues of this novel lies in the nostalgia it evokes of life at Oxford in a bygone era.

Tell Them of Battles, Kings and Elephants by Mathias Enard 

This is such a gem of  a book, which made me fall in love with fiction all over again, especially since the past few books I had been reading had not really struck such a chord.  It was a book that made me re-read it—-and being such a slender novel, that was not a problem.  And on re-reading, I found more treasures in this book along with the discovery of what a clever craftsmen Enard is; drawing his raison d'être from the preface of Kipling's Life's Handicap to weave this layered tale.  Look carefully at the narrative voices to unravel his message.  A Renaissance tale set in the Ottoman Empire, with Michelangelo and poetry thrown in makes this novella a clear winner for sure.  While Pamuk & Shafak work with similar ingredients, Pamuk's Red is too bulky and dense losing the reader at times and Shafak's weaving of the contemporary with the Renaissance results in a book that is good in part.  Enard's slender volume rises above the latter two by avoiding any distractions from his tale and simply focussing on a taut, evocative narrative.  Definitely my favourite read of this past year!!!

Circe by Madeline Miller

Miller is a gifted storyteller who weaves a compelling narrative; granted myths always make for interesting narratives but her alternative tellings just make them all the more entrancing.  This time she takes the so called witch Circe who turned men into animals and weaves a far more fascinating tale around her than the conventional references to her in mainstream mythology.

His Father's Disease by Aruni Kashyap

Sometimes, Amazon can get it right.  This book popped up as a recommendation, and so I downloaded it.  It's an anthology of stories set both in America and India that tackles diverse issues: big city intellectual snobbery, the immigrant experience, metal-health, rural life, same-sex love, living under military rule, insurgency with a special focus on Assam.  Everyone of these stories was a thought provoking one.  This was a book that ended too soon.  I will definitely be picking up Kashyap's other books.  

The Hero with a Thousand Faces: A Historical Novel by Karma Ura 

Bhutan is a magical place and in an attempt to relive my holiday in there I picked up The Hero with a Thousand Faces during this time of Covid.  This book is hailed as the first Bhutanese novel, which inevitably leads to a let down for the reader, as this book has no real plot or conflict per se.  Instead, it is a record of life in the mid-20th Century Bhutan and how Bhutan was brought out of feudalism into the new world order courtesy the foresight of its monarchs.  Therefore, this book is of interest to those who want to know what life in Bhutan was like in the past; it is certainly not meant for anyone looking for a good story.

French Exit by Patrick Dewitt 

Supposedly a brilliant satire, this book left me questioning my intelligence as I did not quite seem to find these witty episodes.  Yes, the novel did have its moments—especially the first section set in New York, thereafter, however I found myself turning the pages in search of the brilliant satire only to find myself at the end and wondering what was the point of this book beyond the obvious critique of the jet-setting crowd. To placate myself, I decided that this was just an absurd novel and that was that.  So not a recommended read—a rather avoidable book.

The Pull of the Stars by Emma Donoghue

This book was a gift—and a great one.  Like Donoghue's Room, I just could not put down this book and devoured it in 2 days.  A book about the 1918 Spanish flu that hit the stands in 2020 during the Covid 19 pandemic—talk about timing!  This novel is crammed into a tiny space both spacial and chronological and yet is jammed with so many issues.  Set in Ireland, it offers a glimpse into so many matters:  maternal health, same-sex love, the Irish struggle for Independence, the Catholic Church and its failings and of course the Spanish Flu.  The Pull of the Stars was an engrossing read and is highly recommended. 

Eat the Buddha by Barbara Demick

Of course, I guess it was only matter of time before the history lover in me would pick up a non-fiction book; this time the book of choice was Eat the Buddha by Barbara Demick.  Tibet has always fascinated me, so when I chanced on this book I just had to pick it up.  It's a book about Tibet under Chinese occupation told through individual narratives which makes this book read like a novel.  In fact, it could easily be one of those troubling novels set in communist China that I had to remind myself that this was reality and not a figment of someone's imagination. Focusing on one town in China, Demick begins her narrative with the start of the 20th Century and brings us all the way to the present day.  It's a story that we all know, one of how China had taken over a land that is not its own and has systematically proceeded to exploit it.  It is a tale of how a population has managed to survive and adapt in the face of a daily adversity.  It is the tale of an oppressed people who have chosen extreme forms of protest—that of self-immolation—and a writer's quest to understand what has driven such protest.

Read if you want a clear and lucid understanding of Tibet.

And now I find myself in no-man's land again…not sure what to read next, starting books only to drop them after a chapter or two.  Hopefully, I will find an engaging read pretty soon :)

Readings in the Times of Covid-19: Part I

Rather than recommendations of books to read during a pandemic, this is a brief account of my Lockdown readings.

The lockdown period has been an ironic time, for now that I am at home and should ideally be able to read a lot, I have not been able to read much. I guess the stress of all the uncertainty has taken a toll—with reading being its victim.  So the first two months of lockdown saw me read at a snail's pace as I found I just could not concentrate.  It was just my book club deadlines that kept me turning the pages or rather tapping the Kindle. Fortunately, the books were light reads  such as Tea Obreht's The Tiger's Wife and Binodini's The Princess and the Political Agent (review here), and, therefore, did not pose much of a challenge.  In fact, when the lockdown began I thought oh perfect time to read War and Peace…am so glad I did not pick that up, for nothing is more demoralising as being unable to make one's way through a book!  To this mix, I added variety by making my way through Gaiman's American Gods (review here), which at least for me, did not meet the high bar set by his Samdman series.  

Once I finally came to terms with the lockdown and the changed scenario, I found myself turning to travelogues: Matthiessen's The Snow Leopard (review here) and Vikramjit Ram's Tso and La: A Journey in Ladakh (review here)] in a bid to drown my sorrows regarding cancelled holidays.  Then again I don't know how smart an idea that was, for reading the evocative mountain descriptions was bittersweet…while I was transported away from Delhi, the descriptions were a reminder of all that is not to be.

Now that I have gotten over the hump, I am looking for meatier reads so let's see what I will pick up next.

PS: This post is possessed--it insists on underlining words, despite my reformatting the post n number of times--so please excuse the erratic underlines of this post.

Good Reads & Amazing: New Additions

I have just added the following titles to the Good Reads and Amazing sections.  Lets see if your classification matches mine:

A Man Called Ove by Fredrick Backman
Honour by Elif Shafak
The Sandman Series by Neil Gaiman
Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin
The President's Gardens by Muhsin Al-Ramli
Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman
Where'd You Go Bernadette by Maria Semple
Sikkim: Requiem for a Himalayan Kingdom by Andrew Duff

Some Overrated Books

The following are overrated books I have recently read and should be avoided:
If Cats Disappeared by Genki Kawamura

Bride Test by Helen Hoang

The Magician of Lhasa by David Michie

For reviews of the these books head over to the Overrated page of this blog.

Babu Bangladesh by Numair Atif Choudhury

For a review of  Choudhury's Babu Bangladesh head over to the  Amazing section of this blog.