Now that some kind soul has reopened Anna’s post on “A Suitable Boy”, I’ll use it as a segue to write a post about a few lightweight Indian books published recently.
Siddharth Chowdhury’s Patna Roughcut is an edgy, cynical take on the life of Ritwik Ray, a young journalist in Patna. Patna Roughcut uses a fractured narrative to trace the events and people that shape Ritwik’s life – from his childhood in Patna, to Delhi where he goes to college, and then his return to Patna with dreams of writing a book. It “is a story of love, idealism and sexual awakening” – a refreshingly different theme for a desi book. Chowdhury’s prose is delightfully unadorned – the rough, untrammelled writing is just what a book like this requires. This is by far the best book out of India I’ve read in a long, long, long time.
Chandrahas Choudhury, in his review at The Middle Stage says
… the last section of the book, “Waiting for Godard”, is one of the very best pieces of extended prose I’ve read this year. […] Patna Roughcut is worth your money just for this section alone. [Link]
And here is Jai Arjun Singh, at Jabberwock.
Patna Roughcut shows its hand early on; the very first paragraph of the book ends an overwrought analogy with the observation: “The poor shouldn’t dream. They can’t afford it.” The remaining 180 pages are an illustration of this statement. Cynical though the idea is, it defines the lives of untold millions in this country – people who reach for greater intellect and “culture” and find that it destroys their pragmatism; that they are still unable to escape the vicious circle of their existence. Chowdhury’s achievement is that he filters this pessimistic worldview through a style that is tender, empathetic and even humorous when appropriate. This is crucial to the book’s success as a story of the aspirations and dashed hopes of young Indians caught between different worlds. [Link]
The book is available online through abebooks, UK. (Thanks Selena).
At the other end of the spectrum is Sonia Faleiro’s The Girl. Weighing in at a hundred and twenty odd pages (any smaller and it would’ve been a long short story), Faleiro’s debut novel is set in Goa, and is supposedly about two men who loved a girl trying to find out why she committed suicide.
But the book and whatever plot it has are just excuses to showcase Faleiro’s exquisite writing – every little action is described in detail, and even the most insignificant of things get an unusual metaphor or two to themselves.
A large clod of lumpy grey earth was being shovelled on top of her casket as we arrived. We heard the flat, grimy thud and watched as it spilt down the sides of the smooth, nut-brown teak, crumbling in deathly slow motion, encrusting the casket like pastry bubbling into hardness until it was firmly covered and could be seen no more.D’Silva never understood how Breto’s flourished in the neighborhood that it did. The two were as mismatched as vegetarianism and a Goan, as profoundly antipodean as the Rua’s many little old ladies and the one young lady who lived opposite Breto’s in a stone mansion, and many years later flung herself into the well in the corner of her garden. She had had two children and a husband she called ‘Hey you.’
While the writing creates a rich portait of life in a small Goan town, it is so distractingly detailed that it draws the reader’s attention away from the plot. But such flaws aside, this is a promising debut: the beautiful writing alone makes it worth a buy. Plus, you can finish it off in a couple of hours and check one item off on your New Year’s lists. Here is an excerpt and here’s a list of places that sell the book online.
At the other, other end of the spectrum from these two books is Chetan Bhagat’s One Night @ the Call Center, a book that is is neither well plotted nor well written, but was a guaranteed bestseller even before it was released. It is the only book among the three that is on almost all bestseller lists in India (and it has been there for several weeks now). Bhagat and his publishers have managed to replicate the successful formula that made his previous book – Five Point Someone – possibly the bestselling Indian English book of all time. An accessible, contemporary plot and accessible (even if undercooked) writing. And most important of all, an incredibly low price: the books sell for Rs. 95 a pop (about $2), compared to the $5 that you have to dish out for the other books mentioned here. I guess size does matter sometimes…
PS: You can buy The Girl online through the official website. I couldn’t find any place that sells Patna Roughcut online, but that could be because I didn’t look that hard.
What do I come to Sepia Mutiny for?
Posts like this about new books and writers!
Thanks you Karthik 🙂
Ciao!
xXx
I like the sound of both this novel and Sonia Faleiro’s book.
Ciao!
Hello Karthik. I’m rather intrigued by your post title, ‘wrist-friendly reads’. What is a wrist-unfriendly read? Maxim India?
Leave it to our dear Bongsy to take it there. No, friend, he meant as opposed to the quarter-watermelon sized HB
How could Maxim India hurt your wrists? I always thought exercise helps, not hurts. And even if it hurt something, it would be the elbow… but that could be just me 🙂 And before this thread goes off on a different track.
From Anna’s post that I linked to:
I think you were far to generous to Chetan Bhagat’s book. I haven’t seen such a sophomoric book published by a real publishing house in a long time. I am just glad I didn’t pay money for it.
I would also put in a plug for Vandana Singh’s children’s books and Sumit Basu’s fantasy novels.
I was going to mention Samit Basu’s “Simoquin Prophecies” and the (recent) “The Manitcore’s Secret,” but they exceeded my weight limit. I’ve read the first one and would wholeheartedly recommend it to fantasy lovers.
Who read Bhagath. Not IITians I am sure and do the others care? I suppose they do if the book is a bestseller.
Still stuck with my 2 copies……..
Ah come on, I was kidding. Of course I know what karthik meant, due to the fact he said “lightweight” in his opening line. Remember, this is a field in which I have ample knowledge.
thanks for this post, karthik. I did a google search of SM and there hasnt yet been mention of an up and coming, talented, and most importantly brown writer called Anosh Irani. For a change, this one lives in Canada. He debuted with The Cripple and his Talismans in 2004 and is on the cusp of releasing his second novel The Song of Kahunsha. Irani grew up in Bombay and moved to Vancouver in 1998 where he began writing in earnest. Hence, both his novels deal with life on the streets of chaotic Bombay (still in denial about the name change). Cripple is written in an interesting magical realism style – for those of you interested check it out online. Here’s a link to his new book: http://www.thebukowskiagency.com/Song%20of%20Kahunsha.htm#authorbio. Definitely falls under the category of wrist-friendly reads! And for female SM readers, as an aside, Irani is very easy on the eyes 🙂
Amitava Kumar on Patna Roughcut:
Manish,
The less said about desi reviewers, the better. It is very common to see a review (of a book or a movie) giving out important plot points. (The Indian Express review of Faleiro’s The Girl nonchalantly gives away a plot point). Guess we should be glad that reviews don’t have the make-or-break potential in India that they do in the US.
Sonia Faleiro is one of those self-promoting types. Pathetic that she’s exploiting the crony system — Tehelka where she works, India Today where she used to etc etc — to get decent reviews. What happened to the days when writers didn’t sell just because of self-advertising thru cronies and good looks? This is the real reason why that V.S.Naipaul controversy happened. Genuine talent scores so little these days. I personally found the read disappointing for the same reasons you mentioned. Pushing detail instead of plot and contacts instead of talent, see the connection?