11. The Reading Promise
"I am terribly afraid of falling, myself," said the Cowardly Lion, "but I suppose there is nothing to do but try it. So get on my back and we will make the attempt."
-- L. Frank Baum, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
Also part of what I am now calling the Birthday gift series, this little gem was gifted to me by darling Rehab. The Reading Promise is a meta book - a book about books and reading. Alice Ozma's first book as an author recounts her 3218 nights of her father reading aloud to her without missing a single night in between.Alice however, hardly recounts the books read (there is a reading list at the end of the novel) but instead talks about the way in which the nights of reading shaped her relationship with her father and her relationship with books. One of the things I enjoyed most about this book are the quotes at the beginning of each chapter from books that Alice and her father read
From L. Frank Baum to Dickens to J.K. Rowling to Shakespeare, Alice’s father read to her every night without fail until the day she entered college, a remarkable eight years later. In this deeply affecting memoir, Alice tells the story of her relationship with the extraordinary man who raised her – from his steadying hand on the back of her wobbly bike to his one-man crusade to keep reading in schools – the words they shared and the spaces in between.
I particularly loved two chapters: the first in which she talks about how she went from reading snuggled up on her father's arm to lying in a spot of her own on the bed. The quote at the beginning goes
Shutting my eyes tight, I try to erase that memory, but it plays over and over in my mind. And the strangest thing is I don't even remember what the argument was about.
-- Kimberly Willis Holt, When Zachary Beaver Came to Town
The second one was the chapter where she talks about how she came to be known as Alice Ozma. Christened Kristen Alice Ozma Brozina, she came to be called Alice Ozma as she insisted that people drop the first name.
My parents made a deal that my mother could pick the first names of the girls and my father could pick the middle names, and vice versa, so Alice and Ozma are his doing. They are names appropriate for the daughter of The Streak, though I wasn't that girl yet when he picked them.Alice from Lewis Carroll and Ozma from the Oz series - curioser and curioser combined with wisdom.
The end of the book raises an issue that is highly relevant across the world today - that the charm of reading is fast fading and more importantly it is not considered a great loss. In her description of her librarian father's struggle to convince his school authorities to not cut down the reading program at the school, Alice Ozma brings to fore the ironies of the digital world. Even though information and reading material is more accessible today than ever before, there is lesser and lesser value placed on the art of reading. In fact, and I've come across this often enough myself, people wonder why we read so much.
We read because we are curious, we read because we want to explore, we read because it makes us who we are, we read because it's a much more fun way to learn than being "taught".
In the end
I promise to be there for books, because I know they will always be there for me.
10. The case of the Missing servant
Meet Vish Puri, India's most private investigator. Portly, persistent and unmistakably Punjabi, he cuts a determined swathe through modern India's criminal classes.Vish Puri is India's Hercule Poirot or at least that is Tarquin Hall's attempt. Having employed a number of people to do his investigation for him - they go by names such as Facecream and Tubelight - the detective himself believes in his "deductive powers". Puri is a typical Punjabi who loves his food and tries to keep his voluble mummyji from interfering in his work. Puri looks at Sherlock Holmes with disdain and pays homage to Chanakya, that master statesman and strategist of Ancient India.
I love Tarquin Hall for how he has captured the idiosyncrasies of lige in Delhi, particularly amongst it's punjabis. Loud, garish and very very fond of the good life. Hall captures all this without any condescension, as naturally as the British may call the French eccentric, as Hastings finds Poirot endlessly amusing.
The plot of The Case of the Missing Servant is not complex but then it is not dead give away either. It has enough clues to help the reader along with Vish Puri. It keeps you riveted enough to get through to the end but it isn't the most thrilling of stories. I loved it though for how Hall writes about Delhi, its people and places.
9. The Black Book
But under the love story is the story of a nation and a city coming to terms with its past and traditions as it modernises. Pamuk captures the alienation of the people of Turkey in the 1980s through his cast of characters - each one complex, as they try to find their way in a rapidly westernising world. My favourite is the story of the mannequin maker as he wonders why stores prefer mannequins that look nothing like the turkish people. He continues to make and hoard "turkish mannequins" as he rejects a world that seeks to imitate the west and looks down upon itself and even it's own appearance.
Much as I love Pamuk and his stories, I've always found it difficult getting through his books. Maureen Freely's not on the translation in this book explained that to me. Reading her note, I realised how much was lost in translation. As Freely explains, Turkish is a complex language with the words often appearing in an order that is contrary to custom, long complex sentences that not only convey "the point" but also explore the origin of that thought in the mind. Reading this book was as much an exercise in understanding translation as it was in reading a novel.
PS: I definitely want to make that trip to Turkey and walk on the streets and take a ride on the Bosphorus.
8. The Secret Lives of People in Love
Love drives lovers, partners, spouses, parents. It also drives friends and children. Love can drive anger, loneliness, sacrifice, achievement, happiness, the ability to give and to cherish. I loved the story of a child try desperately to cope with the death of his mother, the reminiscences of a man who lost his friends at sea and himself escaped by sheer luck and the traces of guilt he feels, the way a parent buys cake to make his child's birthday special and how a love of the twenties comes to fruition in middle age, after both have lived lives with others, the father who stops speaking after the death of his son, the man who lives at the airport as passengers remind him of a family he once had.
What I loved about this book is that it is about the emotions of people in love and not necessarily the actions they take. It's a peek into their heads and hearts, of what they may be thinking when sitting with a cup of tea on a rainy afternoon or winter morning.
I want to end with a quote with which the author begins the book, a quote that I have fallen in love with:
... we could all be rejects in a rejected world and never known or dream that simultaneously the chosen flourish elsewhere in a perfect world
Janet FrameMany of the characters are like that - unfinished symphonies mourning their loss and waiting for fulfillment.
7. Slaughterhouse Five
Vonnegut’s critique of war is scathing and ironic. Especially so since the destruction and devastation caused in World War II does not seemed to have reduced our appetite for organized violence. In Slaughterhouse 5 Vonnegut not only brings to fore the destruction caused by war and its impact on the soldiers who becomes the state’s machinery for delivering violence and destruction, but also the notion of duty. The refrain of So it goes for me captures the fatalism, unthinking acceptance and sometimes even helplessness that afflicts those who are called on to perform dastardly acts in the name of violence.
I found three sections particularly powerful - the notion of existence, death and time that Vonnegut voices through the Tralfamadorians, the speech of Harry S Truman announcing the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and lastly the alternative version of the Gospels by the Tralfamadorians.
In fact, while brief in their presence, the Tralfamadorians add significantly to the philosophical subtext of the book. Through them Vonnegut conveys his view of time, life and duty. Reviews I read before picking up the book likened the Tralfamadorian view of life to that of Krishna’s. And yes, there are similarities in how the two view actions because of their ability to see the entire spectrum of time. However, Krishna does not have the fatalism of the Tralfamadorians and does believe in causality. Whether Krishna like or not, Tralfamador and it’s inhabitants are effective in bringing out the ludicrousness of human behaviour, of our limited perspective and utter shortsightedness and the political and subjective nature of religion.
Truman’s speech, placed as it was at a point where Billy Pilgrim is in the hospital, laid out next to a Colonel writing a book on the Army Air Force in World War II draws out the arrogance in proclaiming the ability to bring absolute ruin. In a moment one is struck by how absurd it is to boast of the ability to destroy. The American rhetoric has clearly undergone change since 1945. America no longer talks of ruin and surrender but of bringing “change” and “democracy” however, still through its power to destroy and bring ruin to people.
War, ultimately, impacts soldiers more than anyone else. The machinery of delivering destruction, those who are simply “following orders”. As they are witness to inhuman sights, their psyche permanently scared, the trauma a lifelong companion. They are not only putting their lives on the line but also their sanity. And that is a great price indeed to extract for power - power wielded by a few individuals in the name of the state. States win a war, for soldiers then is there peace?
That’s the only question I would ask after Slaughterhouse Five.
6. Flute of Vrindavan
Flute of Vrindavan belongs again to Kamsa in his quest to prove himself to his father in law and kill his slayer. In this he is helped by his ancestor Yadu who instructs him. Banker's ability to use mythological characters unexpectedly surfaces here as he continues to add layers to what would otherwise be a predictable plot for those of us who have heard infinite variations of these stories over the years and even seen them on television.
In a wonderful twist, the game of Kabbaddi gets center-stage as father-in-law and son-in-law face off through sport. It is not only a show of strength but becomes the medium through which Kamsa comes to recognise his true potential as Banker weaves in a little philosophy about goals and recognition and the role of sport in team building (and army building).
Kamsa's father-in-law, Jarasandh, as is typical of Banker's villians is not just a big muscled goon, but a highly knowledgeable man and astute strategist; a man who can see the larger drama of the eternal conflict between Devas and Asuras and attempts repeatedly to use that to his advantage.
Banker also does not shy from introducing another rather grey character from Hindu mythology - Narada Muni, the messenger of the Gods - and uses Kamsa and Jarasandh to draw out the apparent contradictions and manipulativeness of Narada's actions. He however, leaves Narada's motives unexplained for now and I look forward to seeing the development of this rather questionable character from the myths.
Once again, it is these characters who delight, because their complexity is unexpected. And they were a complete godsend in a book that does not cover much ground in terms of plot. They are also probably more instructive than any amount of commentary or preaching can be in conveying the philosophies and morals that underlie these mythological epics. As the next book of the series is not out here, I'll leave the story of Krishna here and move to other tales.
5. Dance of Govinda
I first started reading Ashok K Banker in College, which right now seems a really long time ago! (I am getting old... Sigh!). Prince of Ayodhya, the first book of the Ramayana series was recommended to me by a family friend and after reading that book, I absolutely had to read the entire series. So I would wait eagerly for each part of the series to release and by the way, I still have to get my hands on the last one - Sons of Sita. What drew me to Banker's writing was that he made Indian mythology contemporary. He took the moralising and preaching out of the Ramayana (that is a very big deal in a country where the Ramayana is almost like a moral guide on how to conduct oneself) and told it like a thriller, a story of power and conspiracy and of war.
Dance of Govinda is the second book of the Krishna Coriolis - The story of Krishna, perhaps the most mischievous, endearing, cunning, practical and instructive God in the Hindu Pantheon.
If Slayer of Kamsa, the first book in the series, was about Krishna's birth and the prophesy proclaiming him the nemesis of his uncle, the demon king Kamsa, Dance of Govinda is about the coming of age of Kamsa. In it Kamsa, the King of Mathura, matures from relying on brute force to the strategic use of his strength. Kamsa's complex relationship with his father-in-law Jarasandh provides the backdrop for this change in him.
Alternating with Kamsa's rediscovery of himself are the charming antics of the new born babe, his developing bond with his foster mother Yashoda and her realisation that she is bringing up no ordinary child. A third side plot is the plotting of rebellion against the tyranny of Jarasandh by the kindgoms he has conquered.
What I have always liked about Banker's retellings, and Dance of Govinda is no exception, is how he combines the super-power elements and mythical creatures of Hindu mythology with contemporary story telling (Can see some clear Tolkien influences there). I love how something so Indian does not sound absurd in English, the use of Hindi and Sanskrit words to add richness to the tale. Dance of Govinda is fast paced, switching continuously between Kamsa, Krishna and Vasudev, weaving in side plots from the Mahabharata as the Yadavas plot to rebel against Kamsa and Jarasandh with the help of Hastinapur.
I also enjoyed how Kamsa's character was so well developed. Most tellings of these stories have Krishna as their focus, so much so that there is never any exploration of characters like Kamsa, their backgrounds and their motives. They are just simply Evil and must be destroyed by God Incarnate. Banker's Kamsa is also evil, no doubt about that. But there is an evolution in that evil too - springing from a childhood hatred of his mortal father. The evolution of Kamsa's character makes for interesting, engrossing reading and adds a twist to a story other wise so well known that it could hardly have an element of suspense for an Indian reader.
Dance of Govinda, to me sets the foundation for Krishna to take center stage as Kamsa begins to make attempts to kill the child God in Flute of Vrindavan, which I am now eager to begin. Bless my mommy for buying both!
3&4. Two books on Love - Jane Eyre and Love, Again
Last night was a good night. I couldn't get myself to sleep (I have no clue why) and as a result ended up finishing two books I've been reading rather slowly. The first one I finished was Jane Eyre. I saw the 2011 movie when I was in the middle of the novel and that, I am sure hastened my progress.
Charlotte Bronte's heroine definitely has more spunk than Jane Austen's. For all the independence of mind that Elizabeth Bennett showed, she made her way in the world by marrying well. Jane Eyre on the other hand, mostly quiet, always frank and sometimes teasing shows a desire to stand on her own two feet. Bronte makes this amply evident in how her heroine reacts to being taken shopping for fine dresses by Mr.Rochester. Jane doesn't want to be a "kept" woman in any sense of that word by her own admission.
(Plot spoiler alert)
I particularly enjoyed the confrontation between Jane and Edward before she leaves Thornfield. It has all the agony and heartbreak of two people who love each other but must part and yet there is an uprightness to it and Jane refuses to compromise on her principles.
I found Bronte's writing more vivid and engaging than Austen's. There seems to be so much more happening. Also more contemporary, if I can use that word for something so Victorian in every aspect. I didn't feel so far away from the action and could identify much better with the situations in the novel. The suspense element is also built well to the point of its unraveling in the middle of the story. I found in it some of the dark spookiness that accosted me when reading Rebecca here also. It goes rather well with English weather and I wish the movie had not let go of it so completely. I've also found that I enjoy first person narratives much more. While it may limit perspectives, it makes me much more involved in the story as happened with Jane Eyre. Definitely one of my pleasanter experiences with Victorian classics.
The second book that I managed to finish while burning the midnight oil last night (by the way, if this happens with any regularity, I will not only finish the number of books I've set as a target this year, but also run through a fair amount of make up so that I don't look like a hag in the morning. Funnily enough, I am still not sleepy. Maybe it's early morning perkiness talking.) was Love, Again by Doris Lessing.
Lessing's love story is set in fairly modern Britain (1960s I would guess) and centers around the lives of a members of a theatre troupe as they write, rehearse and practice a play centered around the Enigmatic Julie Vairon and the music she wrote. Lessing explores Love in many forms - the infatuation of a young man for a much older woman, the clinging love that the weak have for those they think strong, the ardour that the older woman feels for the younger man and the obsession that it threatens to become, the fantasy love nay obsession nourished by one of the script writers for Julie.
Lessing explores these in a leisurely fashion at first digressing, as real people would as they strive to find an anchor as they are buffeted by a woman who was as intelligent as she was beautiful, as acute in her observations and as engrossing in her art as Julie Vairon. Julie captures her short and tragic life through music, self portraits and her journals and as each member of the cast and crew of the play go through these materials they make a journey through their desires and loves. Some come out on top, others sink lower and lower into the mire.
I found Love Again a little difficult to get through. Especially in the beginning. It got a little better in terms of pace later on but by then the characters had become far too eccentric and depressing for my liking. I can handle an eccentric character or two but 10 of them is a bit much for me. On the whole, I finished it because I didn't want to leave a book half read not because I couldn't wait to know the end. Maybe it would have been more engrossing if it had focused on a few main characters instead of all of them. As a result for many of them there is not enough background to understand their reaction to Julie - Henry for instance or even Sarah, one of the pivotal characters in the story. What is it about Julie that captivates her? Julie's many loves or Julie's abilty to be utterly self critical in private or her wealth of autobiographical talent or her tragic and mysterious death?
For me to be able to empathise, it's important to be able to get into the head of the character, imagine him or her as a friend, put myself in their shoes. These people were too distant for that.
2. River of Smoke
The second book of the Ibis trilogy by Amitav Ghosh, The River of Smoke centers around events in Canton in China that lead up to the start of the Opium wars in the region. As a former student of history, the richness of historical detail and painstaking research in this novel definitely excited me especially since it did not come packaged as a textbook.
Amitav Ghosh uses a combination of third person narrative and first person letters exchanged between two principal characters to tell the story of Opium trading by the British, Americans and Indians in China. The Munshi of a Parsi Merchant, the Parsi Merchant, A botanist's assistant in search of a rare flower, the illegitimate son of a painter, British and American traders and Chinese merchants form the main cast of characters of this 500 odd page novel - each with their own perspectives and layers on the events that unfold as the Chinese emperor attempts to shut down the trading of Opium in Canton.
Without preaching or getting into lecture like passages, Ghosh examines the hypocrisy of British imperialism, of the doctrine of free trade and of the rule of law through his cast of characters. Free trade of opium, as desired by many of the merchants, is posited against the fact that it is a contraband in Britain and morals and religious beliefs come into conflict with economic demands. One of the characters I liked best is that of the Parsi merchant - Bahram Moddie, who while recognising, as events unfold, the ill effects of opium, is bound by the demands of business and the money that investors have put in his shipment of opium.
Given that River of Smoke is written in flashback, I am waiting for the last novel of the trilogy to fill in the remaining gaps between the end of the Sea of Poppies and the beginning of the River of Smoke. And Amitav Ghosh is definitely only of my favourite Indian authors in English!
PS: I also loved the infinite variations on Paulette's nickname 'Puggly' that Robin uses in his letters. Pugglanova, Pugglesmore, Pugglabad and all of these had me in splits even in the middle of grim scenes.
1. The Beauty Myth
This book by Naomi Woolf looks at how notions of beauty can and do undermine the freedom that women have won; the freedom to participate in public life - at the workplace and in the corridors of power. Her main hypothesis is that the idea of the "perfect beauty" serves to reduce the self esteem of women even as they acquire economic freedom and power.
Her argument is powerful especially as it examines how women harm themselves in order to attain that "perfect body and face". Plotting the evolution of the beauty my alongside the evolution of the beauty and cosmetics industry makes for a powerful case, accounting for the role played by films, magazines and other popular media in perpetuating the notion of the ideal woman - an ideal that women can achieve at great economic and biological cost.
I personally thought that the later chapters on sex and violence were far more insightful as they examined how men are also affected by the beauty myth and the impact that this has on the relations between men and women. These chapters make up somewhat for the conspiracy theory like initial chapters. Conspiracy theories are something that I cannot get myself to believe - All Men do not hold a SECRET meeting to decide how to keep women subservient. I wish she had examined in greater detail the subtle and usually subconscious processes by which societies seek to maintain the status quo in power relationships instead of heaping all the blame, in conspiracy theory fashion, on rich and powerful men and the beauty industry.
Yes, the beauty industry has played a not small role in the creation and sustenance of the beauty myth but it is not alone in this. I would have liked to read about this from the point of view of how notions of beauty have evolved and imprisoned women from time immemorial (Chinese women for example, kept their feet bound up as small feet were considered beautiful) and have that lead up to how the industrial revolution gave a market logic to this myth. The market logic comes not just from scientific progress and the development of chemical products for beauty but also from the fact that women in the 20th century have had more disposable income to spend on themselves thereby expanding the number of categories - from clothes, accessories and cosmetics to Gadgets, cars and now even financial products - that have begun targeting them.
This larger perspective being missing, I did get peeved off by the Conspiracy theory tone of the book. For "how not to sound conspiracy theorist while talking about feminist issues", one should definitely read The Means of Reproduction by Michelle Goldberg.
Why this page?
I've decided to create a separate page on the blog for the Books of 2012 primarily so that I end up writing other stuff on the blog and limit the book reviews to this page. Otherwise, every time I feel like I've neglected my blog for too long, I show up and write about what I am reading or have read recently.
To those who are are going to follow this page, the most recent book will be write on top and so on and so forth!
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