The Hungry Bookworm

A Poem

2012-01-26T22:52:00.000-08:00

Tanha chandni apne yaar se milna chahti hai
Lekin kya kare yeh uski kambakht kismet mein nahin
Door se hi usey dekh kar
dil behla leti hai
Kabhi kabhi apni roshni ki ungliyon se
uska chehra sehla leti hai

What I've been reading lately...

2011-12-28T04:18:00.000-08:00

Have been a lazy blogger this year so haven't blogged at all about the several wonderful books I read this year. A quick summary of recently read and thus top of mind books:

Basharat Peer - Curfewed Night - a memoir set in Kashmir of the '80s onwards. The book is a series of anecdotes from various people in Kashmir impacted by the militancy and the army crackdown, following along Basharat's own life from his school days to his studing at college in Aligarh, his career as a journalist in Delhi and his eventual return to Kashmir. I read this for the book club and found myself quite emotional by the end of it. I couldn't decide whether he wanted this to be a journalistic account or whether he wanted to make a point. In fact, I couldn't figure out what he himself felt about the events in Kashmir, whether he sympathized with the militants or the Indian army...At one point in the book his parents are almost killed by a bomb thrown by the miliants and while he is shocked and grieved at the fact, he doesn't really express any anger against them. In a way, I felt his lack of a point of view, either way, robbed the book of depth for me. At the same time, possibly he and most others like him, are highly ambiguous in what they feel towards the militants, the Indian army( well, maybe less ambiguity there), the dream of a free Kashmir and the help/ threat from Pakistan. It's so much easier for those of us who can have black and white views on the major events, possibly because we have not been caught up in them, willy nilly.

Alexander McCall Smith - the entire Mma Ramotswe series, set around a detective agency in Botswana. Again a gently ruminative series, like his Isabel Dalhousie books, pondering on the many small conundrums of life rather than the big 'mystery' as the genre typically pursues. Interesting, gentle characters lead the stories and their ltitle quirks and foibles just make them the more endearing - could certainly relate to Grace's love of shoes!

Indu Sundaresan - The Feast of Roses. Beautifully written, like The Twentieth Wife, and highly evocative of royal life in the Mughal period. Intricately detailed and beguiling, it was a great peek into the mind and life of Noor Jehan, the way that her life panned out, the great love that she and Jahangir shared, her struggle for power in the palace, and how she ended up competing against her own niece, Mumtaz Mahal, for power and ascendancy. The Mughal court was reconstructed in fabulous detail and it took me a while to come out from there and back into the real world. Now looking forward to reading The Shadow Princess...

Alex Rutherford - A Kingdom Divided, Brothers at War and Ruler of the World. I really enjoyed the first two books - again a great peek into Indian history and some of its rulers. The story of Humayun was interesting - a mystic, opium-addict, who frittered away his father's legacy for several years, caught in fratricidal wars and his own weird beliefs - like different colours for different days of the week, or different days of the week for trasacting different kinds of business. It was also a very detailed look at the life and times that prevailed, and great follow-ups to raiders of the North which detailed Babur's life. However, Ruler of the World was a real letdown. Akbar has always been known as one of the greatest Mughal kings, if not Kings in general, for a variety of reasons, ranging from his ability to temper aggression with justice to his skilful compromising which led to a vast network of allies and put a halt to internecine warfare. His domestic administration was as well thought out and wise as his foreign policy, and of course his broad outlook on religion was highly unusual. However, in this book, almost the entire focus was on Akbar's poor relationship with his sons, especially Jahangir, and his lack of empathy as a father and his fractured relationship with Salim's mother. It was a real let down for the reader and a let down of Akbar himself, who surely deserved a broader framework. In despair, I turned to Abraham Eraly's Emperors of the Peacock Throne, where I found a much more well-rounded picture of Akbar and his reign.

Walter Isaacson - Steve Jobs. I had never been a big user of Apple products, having acquired an iPod just last year, but somehow when Steve Jobs died, it really hit me hard. I felt like a hugely brilliant mind and a truly intelligent innovator had been extinguished, so we were very happy to get this book as a prize at the Pub Quiz. Let me say at the outset that it was painstakingly researched - unfortunately, the pain shows in the writing. I wish the book had been a little more peppy and zesty as befitting Steve Jobs. But it was a very thorough biography and painted a true picture of the man, warts and all. There were so many angles to him that left me thinking hard, from his reaction to having been adopted to his own relationship with his kids, the way he befriended people and yet stayed detached, almost ruthlessly so...Clearly a very complex genius, whose real strength lay in his ability to visualize what people wanted to be able to do and then connect the dots with technology.

Philippa Gregory - various...highly detailed, and yet emotional and evocative accounts of women who stayed behind the scenes and yet played major roles in English and European politics in the middle ages.

Jean Plaidy - The Queen's Husband. A fictional biography of Prince Albert, Queen Victoria's husband, and their life together. He came from a small principality in Germany, and yet was brought up to be very correct and had a huge sense of noblesse oblige. In contrast, though Victoria was the only heir in England, she was brought up in a much more haphazard manner. The relationship between the two was deep and loving, and her image to the contrary, Victoria was a highly passionate and emotional young women. Under Albert's influence, she learned to put country above her own emotions. Yet they had a fascinating relationship as he was never crowned King and was just a consort, while she had grown up knowing she would rule. Jean Plaidy does her usual excellent justice to both characters and their milieu including the ups and downs of English politics of the time.

Elif Shafak - 40 Rules of Love. My first by this author and am going to head for more. A lovely juxtaposition of the modern-day humdrum and safe life of a housewife in the US with the lively and exciting love of Rumi the poet and Shams Tabriz, a sufi dervish, in the 13th century. Brilliantly written, it took me right to the heart of Rumi's household in the middle east and the whole cast of characters who populate his and Shams' story. Told from the points of view of the various characters who inhabit the stories, it's a great insight into sufism as well as a thought provoking read.

Julian Barnes - The sense of an Ending. Not quite sure where I am with this book. On the one hand, I found the concept of looking back at life fascinating - it's almost like you never know who you are because your own history eventually becomes a story you told yourself and others. So when you go back and confront multiple perspectives or find other people's parts of your story, suddenly the narrative gets deconstructed and you're back to square one. On the other hand, I didn't understand the fuss and the Man Booker part of it...

Currently reading and loving Kunal Basu - The Yellow Emperor's Cure

What I've been reading

2011-03-20T08:38:00.000-07:00

I've been doing a lot of good reading since this year began. Henning Mankell was one such new discovery. I'm also enjoying India by Patrick French and Jaya, an illustrated retelling of the Mahabharata by Devdutt Pattanaik. For my bookclub, I read The Alchemy of Desire by Tarun Tejpal. A had very mixed feelings about it and I typically have similar reactions so I began it hesitantly, but soon found myself drawn in by the story, the characters and the writing. The way that the author wrote about the stage of a relationship where one partner has lost interest but still cares for the other, and wants the other person to read their mind so they don't have to do the bad job of actually breaking up was beautifully and poignantly described. The story of the American woman was intriguing, and overall the quality of the writing was beautiful. I have to confess I skipped several passages of purple prose but I loved reading the book, and I loved the conclusions about the nature of desire and relationships.

I read Louis XIV by Antonia Fraser. He is someone who has always fascinated me, because we know such superficial things about him, like his long reign and the Sun King who built Versailles. The book brought him alive as a person, the many women he loved, his attitude towards the duties of kings, the fact that he was deeply religious, the reasons behind the pomp and splendour, his strategising in terms of foreign policy and much more.

I also read Marie Antoinette by Antonia Fraser, and found it a compelling and revealing read, despite the fact that I have read several books about her and am quite well-versed with her story. The book brought home the fact that she was much more sinned against than sinning; even that famously fatuous 'let them eat cake' remark attributed to her had also been attributed to Louis XIV's mother a hundred years before. She was neglected in terms of upbringing and education by her ambitious mother, and taught conflicting things. on the one hand, her mother wanted her to be a true 'daughter of France' after marriage, on the other, she wanted marie Antoinette to influence French policy in a way beneficial for Austria. With an unhappy marriage to a boorish, suspicious, sullen and self-conscious husband who didn't consummate the marriage for 7.5 years, in an age when princesses were only valued or their ability to give the country royal heirs, she turned to all kinds of amusements, from the Trianon to Opera and gambling.

The famous extravagance that is cited against her was a royal habit, with none of the French royals ever sticking to their allowances. Her chief desire was to be a good wife and especially a good mother but the ceremoniousness of the French court at Versailles prevented even that. In the end, after her husband's vacillation had caused their escape efforts to come to nothing, after his execution, her infant son (8) was forced to turn against her and accuse her of all kinds of indecent behaviour so she could be found guilty and executed. The book brilliantly brings all this to light, and her to life as a character. I found myself in tears by the end of it.

Another series that I am reading and enjoying tremendously is the Isabel Dalhousie series by Alexander McCall Smith. Set in Edinburgh, the books bring the city vibrantly to life with its contrasts of a rich cultural city life and the boon of amazing views and countryside within easy reach. The key character is a 40-ish female philosopher who thinks deeply about everyday decisions and leads a reflective life, even while she hooks up with a boyfriend 15 years younger, who also happens to be her niece's ex-boyfriend, and has a baby at over 40.

I love the way that McCall Smith shows such deep insight into the female mind, and it's a suspension of disbelief to realise it's a he who wrote the books. The books have an investigative problem at the heart, though nothing as gruesome as violent crime, and their resolution is always rooted in philosophy, the simple art of courtesy which seems to be disappearing from modern life, and John Donne's famous poem, 'Send not to ask for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee'.

Jaipur Litfest

2011-01-25T01:17:00.001-08:00

We had been hearing about JLF for the past 6 years, and it always sounded interesting, but somehow not like something we could do. Partly, we thought it'd be one of those fearfully intellectual events that always numb my brain. I guess somewhere we were also busy having babies 2 and 3 and bringing up baby # 1, and working…all that jazz that one uses as reasons and then when you stop using those excuses and decide to go, you wondered why you didn't go earlier. So sometime last year, the idea of planning to go to Litfest germinated, and finally during the IIMC reunion, my BFF/ soulsis and another dear friend said they would both go this year. Another dear friend has been going to JLF the past two years, so it seemed like a no-brainer – literature in the company of good friends. A unfortunately was stuck holding the fort/ kids as my parents were out of town, though I have told him we have to plan so we can both go together next year.

I couldn't stay for 5 whole days, so we went from Friday to Sunday evening…and it was blissful. From the very first event, where Dr. Karan Singh and Stephen Pollock spoke about the need to preserve Indian culture and literature through creating avenues where people could access and enjoy it, to further sessions, where you sat on dusty floors, cheek by jowl with David Godwin or Vikram Seth, or had a brush with greatness ( Coetzee brushed past me on his walk to the stage ), or made a blithering idiot of yourself in front of Javed Akhtar, it was such a joyous celebration of the power of literature, to move a diverse set of people, both physically, since everyone had travelled some distance to be there, and emotionally. What made it special was the diversity of the writers, and the fact that most of us growing up in the India of the '70s and '80s could never have imagined them traveling to India and speaking to a crowd of us, rather than going off on intensely guarded private holidays. I was also immensely pleased with the democratic nature of the festival – attendance is free, and there's no special seating for anyone apart from the speakers. Even the organizers, if not in action at a particular event, have to find squatting space wherever they can, there's none of that obsequiousness and obligatory bows to the famous/ notorious (i.e. politicians) and 'people in power' that marks a typical Indian event of any kind.

Some of my takeaways:

Javed Akhtar speaking as eloquently as only he can about the Urdu Zubaan and how the two-nation theory has given it a religious context due to which it is dying. How Urdu was never the language spoken by Mughals, and actually was spoken by the common people, more Hindus than Muslims. He spoke a simple sentence in daily-speak Hindi which he then broke down etymologically into Urdu, Persian, Arabic, Turkish, Sanskrit and a few other languages. And he mentioned that Akbar in fact was born in Multan and never travelled outside of India, so how could one call him a foreigner. And that Akbar actually spoke Punjabi and a couple of other languages but not Urdu/ Persian. I came away with this mental image of a short, portly Akbar, wearing a white lungi and safa, which apparently was his preferred mode of dressing, calling out to Salim of Dilip Kumar/ Devdas vintage in the popular imagination, "Oh Salim! Itthe aa. Us laundi wich ki karr riya 'ai?"

Rita Chaudhury's book Makaam. She is an Assamese novelist and her novel is based on a real and shameful incident in India's modern history. Many Chinese people had migrated to India after Communists took over China, and some of them had settled in Assam, married the locals and thought of themselves as Indians of Chinese origin. Suddenly in 1962, on the penultimate day of the Indo-Chinese War, the Indian Government rounded them all up from this village, Makaam in Assam, and transported them in subhuman conditions to Rajasthan. The Government had decided that all Chinese were spies, but they had no way of telling in this group who was of Chinese origin and who was not, so they picked the ones they thought were the most Chinese looking ( how's that for racism?), and shipped them off to China. Husbands and wives were torn apart, siblings, parents and children were all rendered bereft. When those left in Rajasthan went back to Assam, they found that al their hard-earned property had been sequestered by the State as 'enemy property'. The people shipped off to China had no family, no money, no contacts there, many didn't even know the language, they spoke only Assamese. Some were even of purely Indian origin. Their life plans of becoming doctors or engineers, marriage and children were all put on hold as they struggled to survive. Even today, they live scattered all over the globe including mainland China and Hongkong, speak Assamese and remember the old days with fondness. But they still carry the fear they felt then and are scared to come back. Rita Chaudhury went and met many of them and their video-taped interviews had me in tears. They sing old Hindi songs from the 50s and 60s, have cultural festivals where they all sing and dance to Indian songs and yet carry these scars and fears deep within. Rita Chaudhury read out one passage from her book translated into English, and it was beautifully written. I am just waiting for the English version to come out.

Orhan Pamuk was merciless in dismissing his interviewers, on-stage and off, pithily asking them to keep their questions short. He was also extremely funny, especially when asked at length by an elderly gentleman, as to whether philosophical love was better or physical love. His brief response: "I can't resist saying this – that depends on the depth of penetration!"

A 6-member panel moderated by Barkha Dutt on the AfPak issue. The one Afghanistani represented on the panel, Atif, lives in France, and had a translator as he said his English was very poor. When asked about the Afghanistan issue, he replied, "It makes me laugh when people talk about this, because always, when it comes to Afghanistan, everyone else decides what is to be done, Afghanistanis never get to decide." Barkha underlined his point when, for the rest of the discussion, she never gave the gentleman the floor. Later that day, I happened to catch the tail-end of a session with him, in which he was speaking eloquently and fluently in English, so I guess he gave Barkha hers, in spades!

A session on Gaata Rahe Mera Dil by Javed Akhtar, Gulzar and Prasoon Joshi was packed to the rafters – it was very hard for the speakers to get in. In fact, the organizers had to organize a second session of the same at a larger venue, and even that was packed out. The three of them discussed what's happening to the songs in Indian cinema. Javed felt that it seemed as if filmmakers in India had become ashamed of our Indian idiom of including songs in the movies, so they were turning to movies without songs, to impress the West, whereas the whole world loves our colourful and melodious cinema. Another point made by all three was that there seemed to be a 'jhijak' or shrinking away from deeper emotions in today's songs, so there were no soulful sad songs or songs of yearning, lullabies. A crudity was creeping into the language and the stories told. Earlier, producers used to have a wholesome fear of the 'public' and hesitated to do anything they feared would offend the public, but today the new God was youth, and everyone followed what they thought youth would lap up. A young girl in the audience made a thoughtful comment about how youth loved the wholesome and thought-provoking lyrics of Taare Zameen Par and Rang de basanti etc, so it was more a matter of a lack of better choice available to them than that their standards had fallen.

A wonderful debate on Why Books Matter – how they help take us out of our own setting and miniscule problems which nevertheless loom large, and place us in a different context. One elderly gentleman in the audience deplored the poor reading tastes of the modern-day public, where cookbooks and film-books sold more copies than literary works. Javed Akhtar, also in the audience, was called in as an ad-hoc member of the panel and he replied in his inclusivist style that he was not a puritan or a purist and he would be the last to advocate that the public read only literary masterpieces, but that they should read everything. In the same vein, the previous day, he had said that he loved songs like Beedi Jalaile or Munni Badnaam. His only issue was that they should have all types of songs, not just 'item songs'. (Are you getting the feeling I have fallen in love with Javed Akhtar? I certainly am!)

A session on 1857, which was supposed to feature William Dalymple and Mahmood Farrouqui had an added bonus of Mrinal Pande. She has recently translated a Marathi first-person account of 1857 from the Hindi to English, and it was hot off the presses. The story is fascinating – a couple of Marathi Brahmin priests decide to do a pilgrimage and set off for the holy places in the north just before the stirring events of that year. Somehow, each place they wind up in is a hotbed of insurgency/ rebellion against the British – they land in Gwalior and report on Scindia, in Kanpur where Nana Sahib has to decide what to do with a party of English women and children trying to find their way to safe territory, in Jhansi, where they find that Lakshmibai is incensed with the Company usurping regal powers and fights back…After safely making their way back, one of the Brahmins wrote down a record of the events, with instructions that it be published after his death. He dies in 1904, and two versions of the book came out in 1907 from different publishers, so that in case the British confiscated the work of one, the other would at least survive. It sounds like a fascinating story, and Mrinal Pande narrated it like a grandmother telling her grandchildren a bedtime story, with humour and affection. Again, a book I am dying to get my hands on.

cross-posted at We are like this only

The Immortals of Meluha

2010-09-02T21:24:00.000-07:00

Sounded like a very interesting concept so the book club picked this as the last book to read. And the book did live to sme of its promise in terms of the various concepts the author has come up with, or even the basic premise that Shiva was a tribal who then became a God...

However, we all felt that the execution was weak, particularly the writing itself which sometimes was pedestrian and sometimes trying too hard. The descriptions were rich and evocative though, and one could almost imagine it being made into a movie...

The next book up for discussion is The Case of the Missing Servant by Tarquin Hall...

Nine Lives/ Songs of Blood and Sword

2010-07-17T10:30:00.001-07:00

The Nine Lives discussion is getting documented after hazaar time, so please do forgive my somewhat hazy recollections. As I remember, some of us loved the book - Rachna, Rohit and Munna in particular. We found some of the stories absolutely fascinating, and it was interesting given that we live in such materialistic times to observe the lives of those who seem to live completely spiritual ones. Munna felt that it was a wonderful glimpse of the kind of people that we otherwise would never meet.

However, Bhavna and I, admittedly having read only a couple of the lives, found the book depressing on the whole. Possibly the choice of the first story, the Jain nun, was what lead us to that conclusion. It seemed like the Jain nun hadn't really imbibed the philosophy she stood for, since that is all about detachment from everyday emotions/ other people and yet the nun was so attached to her recently dead traveling companion that she was in deep mourning. If the whole point of her having given up a 'normal' life to follow Jainism was for her to learn these spiritual lessons and after years of leading that life she was still prey to the same emotions...well, let's just say that if finances had permitted, I would have been making a beeline to the nearest mall after reading her story!

*************************************************************************************
Songs of Blood and Sword:

We began by saying that a better editor and in fact a better writer would have made even more of this book than it already is. Certainly, the way the book began was a lame opening to a cracker of a book that kept one hooked throughout. Honestly, if we were not from the subcontinent, we would have suspected Mario Puzo of having ghost-written the book.

Fatima Bhutto makes it very clear that she is antagonistic to her aunt Benazir from page one, and by the end of the book, she certainly had all of us convinced as to why that was, and we also started viewing Benazir through her eyes. While fatima Bhutto's adoring, subjective view of her father blurs out some of the rougher edges of his personality or doings, it still seems like he at least had some definite principles, whatever the means he may have adopted to fight for them.

The Bhuttos are a very interesting family - rich, landed, powerful...in some ways reminiscent of the Gandhi-Nehru family or the Kennedys. Despite their education at liberal institutions like Oxford and Harvard, feudalism seems to run in their veins and colour their worldview, their every action. From Zulfikar down to the latest generation, eventually their lives become about the power struggle, and it is both repellant and fascinating to read about how the hunger for power changes relationships and characters.

Eventually, we became even more fascinated by the thought that despite having a class of politicians that is no better than those in Pakistan, somehow India has managed to remain saner, and is not a failure as a state. Despite Indira Gandhi's best efforts during the Emergency, our institutions have remained, and thus preserved us as a democratic country, and a free one. We debated the various reasons why that was so - Hindu philosophy, the diversity, Nehru setting the tone, the army that never wants to take over the state...Obviously it wasn't a definitive discussion, but after reading the book, we all collectively said, "There, but for the grace of God..."

We also thought Fatima was one ballsy woman to continue living in Karachi after what happened to her father, and especially after writing this book!

The book is highly recommended for anyone from India/ Pakistan...

Silent Raga - a mystery/ suspense novel

2010-02-06T03:51:00.001-08:00

This is a book that has more questions than answers, and thus remained a mystery/ suspense to most of us.

Why was the book named Silent Raga? What was the connection between the musical notes announcing each chapter and the goings-on of the chapter? Why did Janaki run away to Asgar whom she had just met once? Why did Asgar agree to marry her having met her just once, when nowhere is it indicated that she is either a divine beauty or a divine veena player, leaving his paralysed first wife? Why did said paralysed first wife make so nice to second wife, i.e. Janaki, including playing chief advice-giver/ baby sitter? What was the relevance of Janaki's veena/ music center to the story? What was the relevance of the interview Janaki gave to the 'bob-cut' haired journalist? Why did Janaki buy the childhood home in which she never had a single positive experience? What was the relevance of Miss Nalini's friend's suicide to Kamala's suicide? Why did Mallika never evolve/ grow a spine? Why did Mallika always take Chitti with her to the hospital if she hated her so much? What was the relevance of the riots the day Mallika went to visit her father? What was the point of the American boss driving Mallika home that day? What was the point of the party at Mallika's colleague's home? Why did Mallika not express anything to her sister whom she'd been carrying a grudge against for so many years? What was the relevance of them driving past Sriperumbudur the day of Rajiv Gandhi's assassination, given that the assassination is barely a footnote? Why did the father go mad ( maybe because he was in this book?)

Why did we have to know in such excruciating detail what the chai walla was wearing? Why ten pages about jattis and 'rivulets of womanhood'? Why don't we see any explanations for what most of the characters did? Why don't we see any resolution in the end of anything? Why is the ending such a damp squib? Why didn't the book have an editor who cut out the pretentious over-writing? How did the guy manage to peddle this book to a publisher (maybe the Indian exotic/ intricate culture thing?)

Overall the book club gave this book a rating of 2.5-4 on 10 (those who managed to read it). We liked the details of agraharam life, but felt it would have been better reserved for a scholarly treatise on life amidst Tam-brahms. Then, of course, Savvy who is a Tam-Brahm arrived and said she read the first two pages and they didn't strike her as authentic so she postponed reading the rest of it. Regarding the lack of resolution - someone suggested it may be there's a sequel in store. Well, guess which book club will not be queuing up to buy that one!

Book resolution

2010-01-09T00:50:00.001-08:00

After I told myself I wouldn't make any resolutions this year, here I am again. Que sera sera and all that. My book resolutions...well, A and I made one towards the last quarter of last year that we'd be a little more stingy about buying books. In fact we went on a book diet, and only bought books for book club reading in the last 3 months, as a disciplinary and cost cutting measure. let's face it, it was also because our library is already overflowing with books and we don't know where to store them.

Anyway, my new resolution is to blog about every single book I read, even if it's just a couple of sentences. So here goes...

In December I read...

The Millennium Trilogy by Steig Larsson

Raiders from the North: Empire of the Moghuls by Alex Rutherford (juhu book club)

The Palace of Illusions by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni (delhi book club)

The Silent Raga by Ameen Merchant (delhi book club)

Cary Grant, A biography, by Marc Eliot

Ava Gardner, Love is nothing, by Lee Server

2 States - the story of my marriage, by Chetan Bhagat

That's a pretty short list, by my usual standards so I'm going to cop out by saying that the Millennium trilogy was a pretty thick set of three, not to mention my crazy schedule in December. I also started reading The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende but haven't finished yet.

When I began the Millennium trilogy, I have to admit that I wasn't all that impressed with the Girl with the dragon tattoo. I read murder mysteries on a regular basis so apart from the somewhat dysfunctional or at the least unconventional lives that the characters lead, the 'surprise' ending didn't really surprise me. But I was intrigued by Liz Salander. The Girl who played with fire, on the other hand, just reeled me in from the very first word. I just gulped it down, so engrossed was I in Liz Salander's past and in wondering what would happen to Michael Blomkvist and her. The third book continued the magnificent obsession and I spent sleepless nights submerged in their world of icy Swedish fields and hospitals, police conspiracies and internal politics. I thought as a series it was superbly written and the characters became more and more...well, I can't say likeable because sometimes you can't identify with their emotions or what they are doing, but people that you cared about and wanted to succeed and emerge with victory at the end. It sounds more than a little shallow to say you're sorry the author died and there can't be any more books in the series, but I am that shallow and greedy.

What's interesting is that in typical murder mysteries, say by Mary Higgins Clark and the like, the heroine is always someone who subscribes to middle or upper class values - she usually hetero, for one thing, she's attractive, dresses well thought not necessarily expensively, has a regular job and then unwittingly gets drawn into a world of chaos and evil, and in love with or falling in love with someone and finding resolution to that in the book. In Liz, we have a character who lives by her own rules, dresses punkily most of the time, is bisexual and casual about sex, falls in and out of love with Blomkvist, seems to not care about what happens to herself, doesn't trust the system and yet emerges as a character for whom you have such sympathy. Not just because of what happened to her, but because of her feisty take-no-prisoners attitude, for pure spunk, for her independence, for her cheek...even when she goes outside the law you feel like cheering her on.

I had been meaning to read Raiders of the North, having bought it in October, but had been lazy about it till it came up as the required reading for the Juhu Book Club. I've always wished someone would take up the cause of Indian history and bring periods of it to life like Jean Plaidy has done for British and French history, so I was quite excited about this one. Overall, I was disappointed by the quality of writing. It was extremely functional and pedestrian, and just didn't live upto the richness of subject matter. I got a better idea of what his life was like, his ambitions and all that but I didn't end up identifying with him and feeling with him through his triumphs and defeats. I wonder if the Genghis Khan book by Conn Iggulden is better - I have been eyeing that for a while.

The Palace of Illusions I already blogged about and I'm going to save The Silent Raga for after the book club meeting this month. So on to the biographies. I learnt a lot I didn't know about Cary Grant who would be on my list of 5 if he weren't dead. I've always loved his screen persona and it was fascinating to go behind that and learn more about him. Interestingly, he was one of the first stars to go idnependent of the studio system in Hollywood, apart from United Artists, and that's why he never won a single Academy award, except for Lifetime achievement which he won when Gregory Peck headed the panel and insisted on it. All the powerful producers of the day apparently resented him for striking out on his own so he could get a better deal for himself. He had quite a turbulent life, from a mother who was committed to a sanatorium by his father so he could get married to someone else, to being bisexual, having a strong of marriages and constantly needing to fall in love with the heroine of the latest film he was starring in. It's sad to think that someone who was that famous and that attractive constantly needed reassurance as to his own worth.

Ava Gardner's story was also an interesting one. I've never watched too many films of hers and so didn't really know too much about her. It came as a surprise to me to learn that she was once married to Frank Sinatra. She was another classic Hollywood story - a girl from a really poor family who was discovered and then became a superstar in Hollywood but also a victim of both the studio system which in those days gave all the power to the producers - moguls like Louis B Mayer - and of the Hollywood lifestyle. Too many men, too much hurt, too many nasty surprises, too many questions about self worth...eventually, the siren who was a phenomenon world over lived and died alone in London, apart from a loyal maid and her pet dog. It was sad reading about her but also interesting to read about Hollywood's heydays, which is one of my areas of curiosity.

2 States was a book I bought and read while Bojjandi was in hospital, and I have to tell you that even under those horrendous circumstances, there were passages which made me laugh. The north-south divide is something I've lived with all my life, being a South Indian brahmin born and brought up in Delhi. First of all, hardly anyone can place me as a Southie, since I don't sport the stereotypical dark complexion, singsong Hindi accent and oiled hair. My husband is a Northie, so I have had to fend off irritating comments from his uncle about 'idli-vada-sambar khaati ho' to his family friends wondering when I was going to start eating meat. Some of my rellies on the other hand were worried about the 4 marriages funda, since A is Muslim, and one of them said I'd have to wash the sacrificial goat every Id. Well, we've never owned a goat, and I think with three kids A has his hands and bank account full, so that's that.

Some of the scenes were classic ones out of my own experience, though my parents don't live the stereotypical Southie life. I remember way back when a new South Indian family had moved into the government colony where we lived and mom sent me over to say hello and ask if they needde anything. I stepped in and it was like I'd gone through a time/ geography machine. The room - same size as our drawing room - was bare, save for 4-5 of those folding-type steel chairs, made expressly for the purpose of causing maximum discomfort to the sitter. The light fixtures were naked of shades, and 20 watt bulbs, at max, were dangling from the wires. There was also a straw chaape or mat rolled up in one corner. Pictures of Gods and Goddesses lined the walls. It looked like a room transplanted straight out of Basavanagudi or Mylapore, and the only things missing were the red oxide flooring and the pastel pink, blue or green walls. It didn't take long for me to run out silently screaming to myself and vowing never to return. I thought this bok was a fun look at the stereotypes that operate and the ones that are true too. I'd recommend the book to anyone from a mixed-up marriage.

This month, I've been reading lots of Asterix and Blake-Mortimer comics. I have also been reading some Danielle Steel books and rediscovering them. I just finished one called Bittersweet, in which a woman gets married to her sweetheart, gives up her career when they have kids and move to the suburbs and about 14 years down the line, finds herself missing a piece of her own identity. What shocks her is that her husband never once realises that she has made a sacrifice in giving up her career and never gives her points for it, and then the book moves on to a slightly more predictable love story. But I found the central theme very resonant.

I'm planning to read a book called When it's raining in Brazil, buy Starbucks, hoping to rev up my investing skills. I also have on my list Jeffrey Sachs The End of Poverty. And I still gotta finish Isabel Allende's book. But one thing that cropped up on my reading list last night after watching an episode of The Cosby Show, was the plays of Shakespeare. A weird thing happened to me a few years ago. I was flipping through my copy of The Complete works of Shakespeare, and all of a sudden, the prose was as clear to me as if it had been written in contemporary language by a contemporary author. I figure while the going is good, let me enjoy this serendipitous gift!

The Palace of Illusions...

2009-12-23T21:29:00.001-08:00

...was our book selection for December. Written by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, it's the Mahabharata told from the perspective of Draupadi, and therefore quite different to other retellings of the epic which typically focus more on the sequence of events than any one character's motivations.

The book provoked a wonderfully rich discussion. While suggesting it, I had thought that since most of us have grown up with this story, reading a fresh perspective on it would be interesting. At the discussion we found that some people had never really gotten into it and this book wa stheir first detailed look at it, while others had been more familiar with BR Chopra's teleserial of the same which, while very well done, stuck to the traditional line.

There were very strong and opposing views on Draupadi. Vatsala had always thought of her as a strong woman and a feminist icon, and found herself a little disappointed by the pettiness of her issues which ended up being among the goads for the war. While Anju felt that it was a realistic portrayal of the way life works for most of us, and completely related to Draupadi's lifelong quest for validation of herself. Jayshree thought that good or bad, Draupadi came across as a strong woman, not the long-suffering Nirupa Roy-esque Sita of the Ramayan who meekly keeps taking what everyone around her dishes out and finally, once the last straw is loaded on her back, runs home to mother. But Draupadi stands up for herself, dares to question the roles of women and the behavious of those around her, and is a very real power. Ali felt that she played a strong role in everything that happened through both arguments and gestures like keeping her hair unwashed and unbound for 13 years. As he said picturesquely, "The Pandavas must have said let's do this war otherwise this stinky hair of hers will stay that way forever!"

We debated whether the key motivation of Draupadi was her quest for love or her need for recognition as an individual, not the add-on to Dhri or the bounty to be equally shared among five brothers. We all thought it was interesting that she has a relatively unconventional view of her role, be it because of the prophecy she had to fulfil or because of her own strong will - she was not particularly involved with her children, and was much more focussed on her life with her husbands.

Many things in the book struck a chord with us - for instance the fact that despite Vyasa's specific warnings about the three occasions which will prove turning points, Draupadi pursues the very course of action she was warned against. Very like life's oh-no-seconds. And the fact that at the end Draupadi wishes she could have loved Bhima back the same way he loved her, since his love for her was the most uncomplicated and the purest. Don't so many of us wish we could have loved the nice guy/ gal back?

Karna, always one of the most interesting characters in the story, again stood out here as in fact the most honourable character, apart from his one lapse in Dhritarashtra's court at the vastraharan. Yudhistra, being Dharma Raja, loves drinking, gambling, loses control of himself while doing either, and then has to be persuaded to take up the right course of action in pursuing the war, while Karna pursues his Dharma without making the same fuss about it.

We found it interesting that while Chitra focuses the story on Draupadi, she called it The Palace of Illusions, thus giving it a greater philosophic scope for debate, as opposed to Pratibha Ray's Yajnaseni which continued to focus on Draupadi herself. One of the best truths in the book is the line that Krishna says about Sikhandi, which I am paraphrasing here - He believes it to be the truth, and therefore it is the truth. In fact the Palace of Illusions is an allusion to the Hindu concept of maya, which believes that the whole world is in fact just a creation of Maya - an illusion.

Taipan

2009-09-29T03:36:00.000-07:00

I had always wanted to read this series of books by James Clavell but somehow or other, though I had bought a couple of the books years ago, I hadn't gotten around to reading them until recently. I started with Taipan as I found Shogun somewhat intimidating to start with, and I found it engrossing reading. The book painted a fabulous picture of HongKong's start as a colony, a lonely, forsaken outcrop of rock in the North China Sea, a place that the Chinese couldn't see why the British wanted and the British couldn't see why they had accepted, to start with.

The book was action-packed and it was hard to put it down. The characters particularly of Dirk and Culum Struan and Brock stay with you after the book is finished. I found it an interesting technique by the author, wherein there is so much of back-history to each character and relationship but it is revealed almost as if he is merely reminding you of what you already know. The nature of each character also comes to light more through their actions than through a description of what they are thinking or planning.

Interestingly, the sequel doesn't pick up immediately where the previous book left off but twenty years later, so I am actually finding it hard to get as enthused since I was so keen to find out what happens immediately after the events concluding Taipan...But ecventually I will finish the series...

Book Clubs and so on

2009-08-30T09:13:00.000-07:00

I really enjoyed attending the book club meeting in Bombay back in July. Even though I didn't love the book assigned for the month, it was really fun to discuss it and to find out how other people reacted to it, get new perspectives on it and so on...So after I got back, I floated the idea of forming a book club to various friends and most of them agreed to be a part of it. We didn't get much of a consensus on what book to pick for the first month so I finally decided on the Sea of Poppies.

I don't really know what prompted me to pick the book. I had to go out and buy it after setting it as the book, and I'm usually pretty wary of Indian authors - I find many of them rather depressing, especially as one can identify with the misery portrayed - one sees it on a daily basis. And my one experience of trying to read Amitav Ghosh (The Shadow Lines, way back in college) hadn't been great...

But I was so glad I had picked this book. I found it an adddictive read and had to consciously pace myself so I wouldn't finish it off too quickly (that was my only book during some travel), and almost found myself 'coming to', when the book ended. I couldn't believe that I'd now have to wait several months, if not years, to get the next instalment of the story of the unforgettable characters.

Luckily, everyone who attended the book club meeting yesterday felt the same way. Most of them loved the book and found it incredibly visual as well. The characters were very involving. It was also interesting to examine the many layers of 'class wars' that were taking place, vertly or covertly - the indian caste one, the British versus Indian one, the full versus half breed one...And some of the moments in the book were harrowing to think about for those of us who were parents. Everyone gave the book a thumbs up 'must-read' rating.

Ali felt that not a single word in the book was wasted, though the book was long. Rohit had marked out several passages where he found the descriptions transporting him to that era. We also had a lively discussion about the history of the British raj - when the Crown took over from the East India Company and the changes that brought in the British-Indian relationship, how going overseas was taboo in those days and so on.

Most of all, I enjoyed the experience of sharing a common liking of the book and the purely intellectual debate that we had...took me back to the good old days of college/ school wherein we would really dissect a piece of literature. Looking forward to more such as time goes on...

So long, Murakami, and thanks for all the fish

2009-07-28T05:20:00.000-07:00

I was finally going to get to join Sonya's Juhu Book Club for one of their famed meetings. The entry fees: reading Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami. He and this book have got a lot of press over the last few years, and even if I've been ducking the reviews and interviews alike, I remembered it as an important book, and more importantly as one I didn't have to rush out and buy, having been gifted a copy that had lain pristine in our new bookroom for over a year. Fine, sue me for being lazy but I'm going to trot out the now well-worn excuse of being mother of three and fulltime worker...

I made sure I wouldn't keep any easier reading material around to tempt me on the flight, and during that and the long drive to Mimi's place where I was staying on vacation last week, I had gotten through a good two-thirds of the book. It was a rivetting read, in which you get engrossed in the characters and their lives. It went pretty fast. It had unforgettable imagery, from fish and leeches raining from the sky to the serenely lovely Komura library, the isolated cabin in the forest and the horrifically savage cat-story ( which made me want to throw up).

I'm not sure how I feel about the book and its author, though. I didn't get emotionally entangled in the lives of the characters, and that's something I like to do. The book didn't lead to a resolution of the events in the neat way that one would like. I still don't understand a good chunk of the events and characters...

However it made for a very lively discussion. Shubho thought its lack of neat endings was very Eastern as opposed to the linear progression of western thought. There was tremendous symbolism to be uncovered, from the yin-yang of Nakata and Miss Seiki to the detailed descriptions of food and sex, the cheshire-Cat-ish Colonel Sanders and Johnnie Walker. There were many arguments back and forth and insights about why this or why not that...

And I realised that though I may never pick up another book by Murakami, it was a terrific experience to have read him once. For the pure intellectual challenge of trying to interpret him, for the fun of engaging in a stimulating debate about the whys and wherefores. For the spurt it's given me into finally trying to start up a book club in Delhi. And of course, for the name-dropping value, I mean how much more intellectual can you get?

Bringing Up Vasu

2009-06-29T00:28:00.000-07:00

I rushed out to pick up this book as a fellow mommy blogger and someone I know slightly though virtually has written it. Though the mommy genre is pretty huge overseas, this is the first book of its kind in India.

Parul has a wickedly funny blog that always makes me smile so I guess I was expecting something similar in her book. And yes, there are many moments in the book which make you smile or relate to it if you're a mommy. However I do feel that there were significant weaknesses in it, which a good editor could have helped Parul to refine.

The protagonist for instance, was someone whom I simply failed to understand. What were her motivations, how and when did she decide to either give up temporarily on her career or become a yummy mummy with kid at famous playschool, and why? Most of the time it seemed like events were overtaking her and she was at best reacting to them with a slightly left of center reaction.

I found most of the other characters in the book, with the exception of the husband, Anand, rather boring and one dimensional. The friends added nothing to the protagonist's discovery process or to either her growth or the turbulent emotions that accompany first time motherhood. The husband was chuckle-worthy, though, meeting all his spouse's hysterical reactions with patience, tact, good humour and unflappability, all the while making it clear he was behind her one hundred percent. he was the best part of the book.

I felt the book had a great concept but the execution could have been much more polished and real.

The Virgin's Lover

2009-06-09T00:33:00.000-07:00

I'm on a historical fiction kick lately, having found new editions of 3 Jean Plaidy books about the Plantagenet reign, and then this, by Philippa Gregory, the author of The Other Boleyn Girl. It's a completely new look at the Elizabethan Age, and at Elizabeth herself. Typically Elizabeth is portrayed as ballsier than Henry VIII, as soneone who always knew what she was doing and strategically wove her toils to a greater England.

But Philippa Gregory is someone who delights in looking at history froma new perspective. Take The Other Boleyn Girl ( a sad movie now) - where most writers have focussed on Anne Boleyn, this one focusses on Mary Boleyn, who was one of Henry's mistresses but who had either the sense, the lack of ambition or just the luck ( good or bad is a matter of perspective) to get away and build a happy life for herself far away from court.

Her book about Katherine of Aragon again propounds an unusual theory, that Katherine was in love with Arthur, Henry VIII's elder brother and that they had consummated the marriage but that because of a vow she made to Arthur on his deathbed, she lied and pretended to be a virgin for the benefit of England.

The Virgin's Lover focusses on the first few years immediately after Elizabeth came to the throne. Rather than have her be the superdiva of legend, Gregory portrays her as a lost, scared young girl who has neither the familiarity with royal power and pomp, nor the assurance of a steady crown. Lost in love and scared of the circumstances that crowd upon her soon after she comes to power, she is indecisive and almost looking for a master. That's when Robert Dudley steps into the picture, and then it's a story of the intrigue and the battle of wits between Cecil, her chief advisor who always has England's long term good at heart, the Queen who loves Robert but doesn't want to lose her crown, Robert Dudley who loves the Queen and power both, and poor Amy Robsart, Robert's ignored wife.

It's a whole new perspective on Elizabeth, and as believable as one that paints her as a diva. More, in some ways, given her genes - the daughter of passionate Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, and her life thus far as a sometimes ignored, sometimes imprisoned and 'deemed bastard' princess.

Crossposted at Juhubookclub.

Finally a book tag...

2009-05-08T02:16:00.000-07:00

Here goes:
1) What author do you own the most books by?
Jean Plaidy

2) What book do you own the most copies of?
Chronicles of Narnia

3) Did it bother you that both those questions ended with prepositions?
Nope

4) What fictional character are you secretly in love with?
Bulldog Drummond, William

5) What book have you read the most times in your life?
All by Richmal crompton, Biggles, Narnia Chronicles, the Hobbit, Bulldog Drummond, books by Jean Plaidy and Georgette Heyer, PG Wodehouse, Noel Streatfeild

6) What was your favorite book when you were ten years old?
Kim

7) What is the worst book you’ve read in the past year?
dunno really but I suspect I have outgrown Mills and Boons...what a pity!

8)What is the best book you’ve read in the past year?
Digging to America by Anne Tyler
The reluctant fundamentalist

9) If you could force everyone to read one book, what would it be?
My book, so I can get the royalty :) (Just kidding!)

The Far Pavilions...

10) Who deserves to win the next Nobel Prize for literature?
Me, if I can get off my A@# and start writing all the books I have planned out in my head! (Just kidding) ...
Iain Banks

11) What book would you most like to see made into a movie?

Ballet Shoes; the hobbit

12) What book would you least like to see made into a movie?
roots

13) Describe your weirdest dream involving a writer, book, or literary character.
Dreamed that like Scarlett I didn't recognise the most important things in my life until I lost them. Thankfully not true!

14) What is the most lowbrow book you’ve read as an adult?
too many to remember :)

15) What is the most difficult book you’ve ever read?
Siddhartha by Herman Hesse

16) Shakespeare, Milton, or Chaucer?
Shakespeare

17) Austen or Eliot?
Eliot

18) What is the biggest or most embarrassing gap in your reading?
Indian authors - find most of them too bloody depressing

19) What is your favorite novel?
The Far Pavilions

20) Play?
Cats - love the TS Eliot poems

21) Short story?
Saki; O Henry

22) Work of non-fiction?
biographies; emotional intelligence by Daniel Goleman

23) Who is your favorite writer?
No one writer... PG Wodehouse, Bill Bryson, Helen Fielding, J K Rowling, JRR Tolkein, Jerome K Jerome, Dickens, Austen, Shakespeare, TS Eliot, MM Kaye, Jean Plaidy, Enid Blyton, CS Lewis, Noel Streatfield, Richmal Crompton...

Sarojini Naidu

2009-02-12T01:24:00.000-08:00

Known as one of India's foremost women poets, part of India's freedom struggle, Sarojini Naidu has always intrigued me. A strong woman at a time when there were no role models to follow, she in some ways reminded me of my paternal aunts, who were extremely strong and independent women. I remember way back in school we had one of her poems as part of the subject matter. Those were the days when at school you wouldn't discuss the poems you read or analyse them - oh, no the goal was just to memorise them and be able, in an exam paper, to fill in blank verses from the poem correctly.

But this particular poem always stayed in my mind, as much for the lilt and the rhythm as for the imagery - so delicate, so intricate and so vivid. You can almost see the palanquin swaying to the tune as the palanquin bearers sing this song:

Palanquin Bearers

Lightly, O lightly we bear her along,
She sways like a flower in the wind of our song;
She skims like a bird on the foam of a stream,
She floats like a laugh from the lips of a dream.
Gaily, O gaily we glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string.

Softly, O softly we bear her along,
She hangs like a star in the dew of our song;
She springs like a beam on the brow of the tide,
She falls like a tear from the eyes of a bride.
Lightly, O lightly we glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string.

Varying the pace...

2008-07-28T22:20:00.000-07:00

I finally read Barack Obama's autobiography, Dreams of my father, over the weekend. It is extremely well-written and engages the reader from page 1, and Barack raises a lot of questions about race, people's assumptions about it and the different ways in which they choose to address their own ambiguities on the issue. As you read through the book you realise it can't have been easy to be the child of a white American and a black african, with an Indonesian step-father and step-sister, growing up in the 60s and 70s, even if much of that happened outside the continental United States. Throughout the book you see how people try to go outside their comfort zone or even their reality, trying to prove how 'non-racist' they are or how true to their own race. It certainly gave me a lot of food for thought, to the extent that I couldn't sleep...like the time I read Roots and was haunted for weeks by images of slavery and the anguish of Kunta kinte...

So I descended to the ridiculous and picked up some Hardy Boys books to calm me down. The first one I picked up was hilarious - somehow beset with Indian characters with names like: Ramhud Ghapur; Tava Kapoor; Bangalore; Mr. Bhagnav and Nanab!!! The only Indian name they got right was a character called Ragu. I was just imagining the coterie of writers responsible for this series randomly scanning menus from Indian restaurants and coming up with these strange monickers. Not to mention a priceless climax straight out of a Hindi movie in the 70s, where the book states that Indians love wrestling so the gang of villains agree to let Frank and Joe Hardy engage on a wrestling bout with some members of the gang, with 2 out of 3 falls being the condition for winning...

Old Tag

2008-07-25T02:22:00.000-07:00

Doing Mystic Margarita's tag after ages...and what a fun tag it is too - to talk about your 10 most favourite fictional characters...
1. Ashton Pelham (Pandy) Martyn - the protagonist of my favourite book, The Far Pavilions. Ashton is a mixed up, idealistic soul who believes passionately in justice and fairness and thus is always at loggerhorns with the world. Torn between two culture, he is also unable to decide which one he belongs to and is forced, yet unable to compromise at every turn, and eventually turns his back on the world, looking to found a new one where, like in Martin Luther King's dream, 'people will be judged not by the colour of their skin but the content of their character'...Delightfully complex, idealistic...Not a guy I would fall in love with but would love to chat and get to know
2. William - irrepressible, mischievous, imaginative, frightful...no amalgamation of adjectives is enough to describe this eleven year old who lives in his own world and causes such disruptions to the world of others around!
3. Ramona - the female equivalent of William, with her own unique take on the world.
4. Mr. Darcy - I'm not sure if I'm more in love with the character from the book or Colin Firth's portrayal of him - both are yummy.
5. Sherlock Holmes - how could anyone not be intrigued by this strange mixture of a person who knows everything about obscure alkaloids, rare strains of mud and knows so much about human nature in the course of his investigations yet fails to know as much about human nature in his own life...and of course, the television series starring Jeremy Brett...
6. Tommy and Tuppence Beresford - Agatha Christie's most charming detective duo, blithely romancing their way through life...
7. Jo Bettany - the heroine of 62 Chalet school books, and of my own first book
8. Winter de los Ballesteros - the heroine of Shadow of the Moon, by MM Kaye - passionate, wilful, determined and in love with India
9. Scarlett - yes, despite all her faults - for her passion, her belief that whatever happened she could make it right, her never-give-up attitude, her love for the land...
10. The Fossil sisters - the heroines of ballet Shoes by Noel Streatfeild - original, funny, charming, self-willed...do I see a theme here?
I pass the tag on to: Mad Momma, Kiran and Asha

Childhood Books

2008-04-15T21:06:00.000-07:00

From the sublime to the...

From poetry, when we went book shopping over the weekend, I descended to the good old books of my childhood and bought 2 sets of Famous Five books. There is a new edition, priced at Rs. 200, which contains 3 stories in each volume. I've really been enjoying re-reading these though the FF are not my favourite Blyton characters. I do have several bones to pick and always did, with the rather bossy Julian who seems to call all the shots, and Anne who is a typically 'girly' girl which didn;t appeal to tomboy me. I also thought the gender-stereotyping was quite unfair, with the boys getting to do all the fun and dangerous things, while George, who was pretty adventurous herself, had to stay back to babysit Anne who was always scared of the adventure.

Oh, well, I still hugely enjoy the books, especially the spirit of adventure and daring, all the weird places they discover and the way the kids go off by themselves. Those must have been much safer times than these, when we wouldn't let Chubbocks so much as go cycling by himself if we didn't live in a gated community. I was reading one where they go off in a caravan and I immediately thought what fun it would be for us to do something like that, or a driving holiday, in England sometime. The countryside there is really gorgeous in the summer.

The other thing I love is all the mention of food - the kids always have a slab of chocolate on hand - and for those of us who grew up in India in the 70s, a slab of chocolate was unheard of - at best we had 5 star bars or those skinny Cadbury's Dairy Milk bars and even those were few and far between. The kids always used to exclaim at things like tomatoes, potatoes boiled in their jackets and fresh radish and lettuce - how healthy! Wherever they went, they hauled copious amounts of food - sandwiches, plums and the like - and drink - gingerbeer for choice. Farmer's wives use dto be super-generous and hand out 'a jar of brawn' - which I don't know what it is, or cold tongue or scones with lashings of butter or cream...I can't read a FF book without something to munch on.

What I appreciate is also how self-sufficient the kids seem to be - no running about to daddy when the problems appear; they just take charge and solve it for themselves. They wander all over the countryside by themselves and don't get intimidated by random, rude grown-ups.

I'm really enjoying my time capsule, and am pretty sure my kids will like the series too, apart from the girl/ boy divide. The values are great - honesty, loyalty, being brave and standing up for oneself, carrying on when things get tough, helping others...

Poetry

2008-04-13T20:52:00.000-07:00

There is something about good poetry - the careful editing, the exact juxtaposition of one right word next to another, the cadence and rhythm - which makes it so much more evocative than the best prose. I used to be a poetry buff when I was younger - both reading and writing it - and even now find great delight in dipping into it from time to time. Many years ago, i came across this poem by Rabindranath Tagore which I fell in love with. For some reason, most anthologies of his poetry don't have it and when I look for a poem called The Gift, a different poem pops up. I recently re-located it through Google ( Google ki Jai) and had to share it here.

O my love, what gift of mine
Shall I give you this dawn?
A morning song?
But morning does not last long -
The heat of the sun
Wilts like a flower
And songs that tire
Are done.

O friend, when you come to my gate.
At dusk
What is it you ask?
What shall I bring you?
A light?

A lamp from a secret corner of my silent house?
But will you want to take it with you
Down the crowded street?
Alas,
The wind will blow it out.

Whatever gifts are in my power to give you,
Be they flowers,
Be they gems for your neck
How can they please you
If in time they must surely wilt,
Crack,
Lose lustre?
All that my hands can place in yours
Will slip through your fingers
And fall forgotten to the dust
To turn into dust.

Rather,
When you have leisure,
Wander idly through my garden in spring
And let an unknown, hidden flower's scent startle you
Into sudden wondering-
Let that displaced moment
Be my gift.
Or if, as you peer your way down a shady avenue,
Suddenly, spilled
From the thick gathered tresses of evening
A single shivering fleck of sunset-light stops you,
Turns your daydreams to gold,
Let that light be an innocent
Gift.

Truest treasure is fleeting;
It sparkles for a moment, then goes.
It does not tell its name; its tune
Stops us in our tracks, its dance disappears
At the toss of an anklet
I know no way to it-
No hand, nor word can reach it.
Friend, whatever you take of it,
On your own,
Without asking, without knowing, let that
Be yours.
Anything I can give you is trifling -
Be it a flower, or a song.

Then there is Invictus, which has always sent shivers down my spine for its indomitable spirit and inspirational theme. In some ways, it reminds me of Beethoven's 5th Symphony which is my favourite - that is the one in which the composer rails against the malign fates that made him deaf; starts out by rebelling, slips into despair briefly and then thunders back his defiance at the Gods and concludes with the triumph of his will over fate.

The poet, Henley, went through a similar fate - he had TB of the bone and one leg had to be amputated at the knee. Doctors suggested amputating the other one too but he persevered and kept that and lived on till the age of 54. Invictus was written from his hospital bed.

INVICTUS
William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever Gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of Circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of Chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

The Key To Rebecca

2008-04-10T22:32:00.000-07:00

We've been doing a lot of WWII at home, what with watching The Battle of Britain and The Battle of the Bulge, and that prompteed me to dig out my well-worn copy of The Key to Rebecca. I always think this and The Eye of the Needle are amongst the best things that Follett has ever done. Many of his later books seem to tread a well-worn territory and wear a been-there-done-that look.

But 'Rebecca is really interesting - believably set in Egypt, which at the time was struggling for independence - and with an interesting cast of characters. Unlike many later and American thriller writers, Follet spends a lot of time detailing the background of each character and actually shows character development through the book - in a way that affects the denouement of the novel, which is always interesting.

'Rebecca is a really interesting spy novel, with its twists and turns and many points of suspense - Hitchcock would have loved filming it, and I can almost imagine it, with Ava Gardner playing Elene. I was reflecting later on the reason why many people are such WWII buffs and came to the conclusion that it was rather mythological in its construct - you knew who the good guys and the baddies were, the baddies got their come-uppance, and there were many Homeric heroes and tragedies enroute to the final victory.

The current situation with terrorists is much harder to engage in - firstly because there's no end in sight. In a way, terrorism can be likened to the Hindu demon, Raktabeejasura. Any time anyone fought him, with each drop of his blood that was spilled, a thousand more Raktabeejasuras sprang up, finally requiring a Bhadra Kali who came, fought him and drank up all his lifeblood.

Am tempted to read something comforting again, like Eye of the Needle!

Dorothy L Sayers

2008-03-17T21:20:00.000-07:00

I've been doing an intense course of DLS lately. For some reason, Wimsey never made it to my list of favourite detectives while growing up, though Holmes, Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot all found a place. I discovered DLS when I had started working, and immensely enjoyed her style of writing - a very rich, layered and erudite version of detective fiction. Most of the other authors, though well-versed in the classics, didn't weave them into the story as much as DLS did.

And DLS spends a considerable amount of time painting a portrait of her flawed hero and heroine. Wimsey belongs to the Bertie Wooster class of hero, upperclass, rich, titled and all too prone to twittering. But of course, he's a lot more intelligent than poor Bertie, and not only works to manage his inheritance and income, but also at detecting and has serious hobbies like collecting first editions. A host of titled acquaintances and relatives make their way through the books.

Wimsey, like Bertie, is ably supported by a Man Friday, Bunter, though Bunter is less brainy than Jeeves, since Wimsey is bright himself. Bunter also 'demeans' himself by doing a variety of things that I'm sure Jeeves would never deign to, like taking photographs of assorted corpses, fingerprinting and engaging in romantic interludes with a variety of domestics to dig out information about each mystery.

There is an air of seriousness and tragedy that hangs about Wimsey, who has also suffered from nerve shock after WWI. Unlike the typical detective, Wimsey stays involved way after the murderer has been unmasked, and suffers agonies of self-doubt over his self-appointed role as the arm of justice. The murder victim, like in many other detective stories, is often an unlikeable or plain wicked creature, and the murder is almost 'asked for', which is what plants the seeds of doubt. Unlike Poirot, though Wimsey too does 'not approve of murder', he sees the world in shades of grey.

Gaudy Night, set in Oxford in a female college, is a rather detailed and interesting study of life in a Women's college, in a day and age when it was still not that common for women to study beyond school. One of the books I find most interesting is Strong Poison, which is where Peter Wimsey meets his nemesis - his future wife, Harriet Vane, who's been accused of poisoning her lover. A most unusual heroine for those times, one would think.

Reading a Sayers is a serious occupation, because each book has so many allusions, seemingly thrown away in a random bit of dialogue or prose, and unless one works out the source and the full context, the allusions don't make sense. It's almost like turning detective yourself. Sayers is a good author for those who enjoy detective fiction but prefer it to be intricate and laced with detail as well as heavy on atmosphere.

Books for kids

2008-03-13T01:55:00.000-07:00

By now this is becoming a familiar theme on this blog. But the good news - my son has started reading. Of course, like the lazy bum he is, he starts out by protesting that the words are too hard but when I refuse to budge and read to him, he starts off and has read a whole Reading Level 2 book about Lions, and started on the Ladybird edition of Wizard of Oz.

One of the books I rediscovered recently and that we both love reading together is a series called Amelia Bedelia. It's about a young housekeeper named Amelia, who always manages to misunderstand the instructions she is given. For instance, when she is asked to separate the eggs, she carefully puts the 6 eggs in the basket at different corners of the room. When she is told to baste the chicken, she whips out her needle and thread. And when she plays baseball, she is funnier than ever - she runs all the way to her house, when told to take a home run, and argues that stealing is wrong when told to steal a base.

The books are easy reading and loads of fun but they also help build vocabulary and are a great introduction to synonyms and homonyms as well as colloquialisms. I'd recommend them to any beginning reader since the stories are so interesting it keeps kids engaged and wanting to read more.

Cross-posted at Rainbow days

The TamBrahm Bride

2008-02-29T01:11:00.000-08:00

The title intrigued me as well as the theme which is about a typical arranged marriage among TamBrahms, so I hunted this book down at Landmark and read it last week. Overall, it is a good description of the arranged marriage process - the 'viewing of the girl', the ritual of making her serve tea or coffee, and the stupid questions asked, e.g. can she sing? Who cares - and how's it going to affect her marriage if she's tone deaf? The equation between the Boy's side who are to be venerated, and the girl's side, who are always meant to be eager to please. The horoscope-matching business - as if some random matching of two horoscopes can guarantee peace and felicity in a marital home. The focus on the looks and complexion of the girl, while the boy is only to be evaluated on his education and job...It was a great capture of all of these.

However, I did feel that characterisation suffered at the hands of the incidents needed to make the plot move on. One didn't really end up getting a good understanding into the heroine or her family and certainly there was no character development. I find myself wondering whether that would be the case in real life as well, i.e. with someone who's not only agreed but happy to go through the arranged process, would the person really change while going through it? I'm not really sure of the answer, especially because anyone I've met who's had an arranged marriage has pretty much only met 1 or 2 people before deciding on it, whereas the heroine here meets some vast number of eligibles. Plus the epilogue was really not required - it was quite pointless.

More interesting than this was Mahashweta, a book by Sudha Murty ( yes, the Narayana Murty one). it's about the problem of Leucoderma and how it can impact people's lives, how little knowledge or understanding anyone has of the issues. The heroine has a love marriage with someone from a much richer family and is tolerated by her MIL but later, when she develops Leucoderma, she is shunned by everyone including her parents and her husband. She eventually goes on to settle in a cosmopolitan city and comes to accept what has happened as for the best. I had no idea that this medical ailment was considered such a big deal and that people with it were treated so badly, so it was a real eye-opener.

The book is also very evocative of the nuances of daily life in a small town and the big city, and using simple language, charts the graph of the heroine's life. It was a great read, but my only complaint is that at the end, when the heroine meets someone who wants to marry her regardless of her problem, she says she has given up on that side of life. I would have been fine if the protagonist had said she wasn't in love with the guy but to have given up on a normal married life because of her past seemed defeatist to me.

Books I read last week

2008-02-27T20:10:00.000-08:00

I read a mish-mash of books last week, ranging from historical biographies to a fantasy-chick-lit. First, the Fantasy chick-lit...was a book called If you coulod see me now by Cecelia Ahern, a 25 year old author who's written 4 books already and whose book PS I love you has just been released as a major Hollywood film. I love a certain genre of fantasy book, where the wisdom is contained in simple little nuggets, like The Little Prince, which is far and away amongst my favourites. Cecelia Ahern's book while not quite as exalted is in the same genre. It is an intensely likeable book full of little incidents and windows upon what really matters in life. It is absorbingly written and one starts feeling for the main characters immediately. It is a book with whimsy, fun and frolic and yet with a message, and is a quick read. It is certainly one I'll be picking up again whenever I need a pick-me-up sort of book.

The historicals were mainly Jean Plaidy's - Victoria Victorious about Queen Victoria, written from a first-person perspective, The Haunted Sisters about the daughters of James II( son of Charles I of England who was beheaded by the Roundheads), Myself my Enemy, about Henrietta Maria, the wife of Charles I and in some ways a key instrument in causing his downfall by her insistence on Catholicism, The Goldsmith's Wife about Edward IV's mistress Jane Shore and The Other Boleyn Girl by Philippa Gregory. They were all fascinating reads, though after going through them, I find myself all the more thankful that I'm a simple member of the proletariat rather than an aristocrat - they just had too many things to live up to and too many expectations imposed on them.

Victoria comes across as not a very shrewd ruler, led hither and thither by her personal likes and dislikes of the ruling Prime Minister of the day and content to listen to her husband whom she elevated into the status of a Saint who could do no wrong. She was a lively, fun-loving person with a temper until Albert came along and with his rather priggish attitudes towards life, made her also more and more prissy until she was unable to take a joke, which may explain why the phrase "We are not amused" is the chief one associated with her. Victoria also had little or no grasp of politics or policies, as per the book, and was content to either listen to Albert and her Prime Ministers on most state matters. Even on issues like the fact that Victoria's mother had tried to usurp her place in terms of importance and forced her to be rude to the King and Queen of England had to be swept under the carpet and Victoria's own resentments sat on because Albert was shocked that Victoria did not think everything her mother did was perfect.

She was also so completely in thrall of Albert that she didn't even bother to protect her own children from his sometimes harsh behaviour. Maybe it's because I'm a mother myself, but I found it impossible to understand why she let Albert treat the Prince of Wales so harshly - any tutor or governess the PoW ever liked was sent or taken away from him and harsher and harsher ones found so they could drive learning into his head. His powers of charm, liveliness and ability to love and protect his brothers and sisters were ignored or belittled, and anyone who spoke in favour of the PoW was promptly banished, while Albert continued to run him down and punish him with both rod and scoldings and harsh treatment. No wonder the PoW ran wild when he grew up! Frankly, Albert does come across as a rather dislikeable gentleman.

The Haunted Sisters and Myself My Enemy are about the Stuart reign. The Haunted Sisters was a rather shocking book in that it was the story of King Lear all over again - the two daughters of James II turned against him, mainly for their own ambition and sided with their husbands or friends who had personal ambitions. The two sisters too turned against each other both because they had advisors whose gains lay in the enmity of the two sisters and because they both nursed ambitions for the throne of England. Henrietta Maria's story is yet another proof, if I needed one, that anyone who becomes too dogmatic about religion and insists their own way is the only way is bound to cause trouble for themselves and for other people. One of the reasons I like being Hindu is because one of its basic tenets is that there are many roads all leading to God and that neither is better or worse. Catholicism has a lot to answer for in its dogmatism, from the Inquisition to the attempts to proselytise, to the disdain for other religions and the way the church reacted to Hitler's policies. It's a bit ironic that anyone with wide tastes is said to have 'Catholic' tastes when it's amongst the least embracing religions.

The Goldsmith's Wife was a glimpse of the Plantagenet period at its height, when Edward IV ruled. There was witchcraft and treachery and strife amongst the brothers, leading to a possible fratricide by Edward of his brother Clarence who was supposed to have died in a butt of Malmsey. Jean Plaidy believes in the anti-Tudor theory that the sons of Edward IV were done away with by Henry VIIth, rather than Richard who certainly thought they were royal bastards but loved them as his nephews. It's always been one of the fascinating mysteries of English history and of the Tower of London, as the Beefeaters will tell you when you visit. It makes me want to re-read another book written on this subject by a detective fiction author, Josephine Tey, called A Murder in Time, which had a fascinating theory, if I recall correctly. Interestingly, in this book, Plaidy makes the point that Richard was the last English King - and if you think about it, it's true - the Tudors were Welsh, the Stuarts Scottish and the Hanovers German. So Britain had its last English king way back in the 1500s.

The Other Boleyn Girl was brilliantly written and has made me curious about more books by Philippa Gregory. It was a very detailed portrayal of life at King Henry the 8th's court, with its scheming, jockeying for power, ambitions and the making of a tyrant who thought any of his desires was justified because it was 'the will of God'. I had never thought much about Mary Boleyn, Henry's mistress before Anne who eventually married him. The depths to which ambition can take you and the description of the long, long courtship dance which Anne had to perform to hold the King's interest long enough to marry him and the barren fruits of that marriage are incredibly well described and too me away into a world where I could heard and see the swishing silks and velvets, furtive whispers behind the doorways and the singing and dancing of the royal court. I hope the film releases here soon - if it's a good adaptation of the book, it should be a spectacular film, though I'm not sure about Eric Bana playing Henry the VIIIth - he looks too thoughtful and intelligent, whereas Henry was a sensual, selfish man given to self indulgence rather than reflection.

If you like historical fiction, read the Plaidys. If you're in the mood for high drama and intrigue, read The Other Boleyn Girl. And if you're in the mood for something fun and whimsical, go for If You Could See Me Now.

Indian Cuisine Book - Updated review

2008-02-07T20:33:00.001-08:00

Haven't had much time or mindspace for cooking lately, with Puddi's illness and hospitalisation. But she's fine now, back to being the family dog ( i.e. begging for scraps off everyone's plate, no matter what they're eating!) and her usual zany self. I celebrated her return home by brewing up a pea soup with spinach greens sauteed with garlic, but haven't done much else.

But I came across this interesting book which I started reading while nursing Puddi in hospital. It's by an Indian food writer settled in the US ( Chitrita Banerji) who specialises in Bengali food but was on a self-imposed quest to find out more about the origins of the different styles of cooking in India. Her chapter on Bengali food, especially that served at weddings made me slurp deliriously, even though I'm vegetarian. I of course immediately turned to the chapter on Karnataka food which I admit was a bit of a let-down because it hardly mentioned the varied types of cuisine and was not informed or knowledgeable enough, in my opinion.

Sadly, the book mysteriously vanished after I had completed these two chapters and I could neither find it in the hospital room or at home so I assume it's vapourised into that great library in the sky. I'll have to buy myself a new copy because I found the little that I dipped into quite intriguing...

Finally found it in a mixed bag at home and finished it. I found it a little disappointing, to be honest, because while the quality of writing is good and the descriptions evocative, the author has a tendency to relate everything back to Bengali cooking, which really was not the point. Even when she goes to have Karnataka cuisine in Bangalore, she spends more time marveling at a Bengali sweet shop which has been there for a while. It was an interesting one time read but certainly not a re-reading type of book. for that, I prefer Madhur Jaffrey's Tastes of India, where she covers different regions in great detail, telling us about their cooking, the evolution of those styles and then shares recipes from people who are from those regions, so that they are authentic.

Bridget Jones's Diary

2008-01-28T20:31:00.000-08:00

I re-read BJD yesterday, after several years, and discovered all over again what a fun book it is. When it first came out, there was so much hype about it that I ran in the opposite direction, as usual. Eventually, I was lent that and Edge of Reason by a friend and was hooked. Of course, ever since that, I have been reading several chicklit authors including Jill Mansell, Marian Keyes, Shiele O Flanagan and Sophie Kinsella and have an almost-finished manuscript of my own. But BJD really was the kick-off to this genre of books, and now one thinks about it, one wonders why someone didn't do this before.

Granted, Georgette Heyer in many ways could have been said to be chicklit, albeit in Regency times. But what defines Chicklit and sets it apart from plain old romance is its focus on not just romance but also friendships and career. Moreover, the 'happy ending' of a chicklit is not necessarily marriage or a proposal but the very act of finding/ getting together with the other person.

BJD is a really wittily written book, with not only laugh-out-loud moments but also a vein of 'taking the mickey' running through it. I was struck by a fabulous piece of writing about women's preoccupation with weight and dieting in which Bridget says that she had almost forgotten that food was meant for nourishment, she had become so obsessed with it as a diet/ self-esteem tool. The only crib I have about the book is the almost complete lack of ambition/ seriousness about career of the protagonist. I have to say, though, that on re-reading the book, I couldn't help but picture Renee Zellweger and Colin Firth ( Mr. McDreamy) , both of who did a great job in the film.

Jean Plaidy

2008-01-24T02:29:00.001-08:00

I have always loved history and, at one point of time, wanted to major in it at college. So it's no surprise that I enjoy writers who write historical fiction/ biography. I discovered Jean Plaidy at one of Kolkata's many second hand bookshops during post-grad. I remember, we used to have a lo-ong bus journey from Joka to Free School Street, on the BaroC bus. The entire street used to have these dingy, tiny little cubby-holey shops stuffed with old books from the floor to the rafters. It used to be like a treasure-hunting expedition to sift the grain from the chaff, then you would bargain for the books you wanted, because every five bucks - or even two - that you managed to save made the difference between being able to order toast at the night-canteen on campus and making do with burnt coffee.

Jean Plaidy books were always from the Pan editions - thick books with tiny print, the pages yellowed and brittle with age. They covered a wide range of historical figures, from the English Plantagenets to the Tudors, the Stuarts, the Hanovers and the Victorian age to the French Capet dynasty - Louis Quinze and his peccadillos, Louis Seize and his poor, silly wife Marie, Mary Stuart, Catherine de Medici...there were some books about the fascinating Lucrezia Borgia and the mad Georges and the Regency in England...In all she must have covered about 800 years worth of history through her books. Each book is incredibly detailed and the mind boggles to think of the amount of research that goes into each and every book, particularly because she did it in the dark ages, i.e. before computers, WWW and Google. I always used to buy two or three Jean Plaidy's and then proceed to get so completely immersed in the period that it used to take me by surprise to find myself in a well-lit, modern cubicle bedroom instead of an ancient stone castle with rush flooring and gloomy tapers.

Over the two years in Cal, while I bought quite a few of her books, I also passed up several due to sheer lack of funds, for which I can only weep now. the last time I visited Free School Street a couple of years ago, the quality of the stock in the stores had really deteriorated, and I hardly found anything to buy ( which is so rare for me, I can barely begin to explain - I buy books the way most people buy groceries - cartsful at a time). Amazon does work out to be an expensive option so if you're not a collector but an avid reader, abebooks.com does the trick. They have literally thousands of second-hand bookstores on their list which stock all kinds of authors. I have lately been adding to my Plaidy collection through abe, and picked up 3-4 relating to the time around the death of Queen Anne of England ( who has always fascinated me for the furniture designed in her reign and the flower named after her - Queen Anne's Lace) and the entry of the Hanovers into England.

The Hanovers seem so much the opposite of what merrie England expected of her rulers that it's a wonder that they not only survived but that their descendants are still around and, going by reports, quite popular. Pompous, eccentric, not too intelligent and the first couple of them far more attached to Germany than England. A far cry from the imperious but merry, profligate but intelligent Tudors and Stuarts who were beloved by the country. The books are written with such insight into the daily life and thoughts of the characters that you actually feel as if you're observing them, as if they are alive...

The Floating Admiral

2008-01-20T20:18:00.000-08:00

I'm a collector of Golden Age detective fiction - Freeman Wills Crofts, GDH and M Cole et al. Over the weekend, at a second hand bookstall in Vasant Vihar, I came across a book that I had never heard of, called the Floating Admiral. It was written by the Detection Club, a group of detective fiction writers in the UK in the 1920s onwards, whose objjective was to form a fellowship that kept the standards of detective fiction flying high and to help each other over the technicalities. Members included GK chesterton, Dorothy L Sayers, Agatha Christie and other illustrious writers.

The Flosting Admiral is a book they all wrote together as a sort of Chinese whisper. Each author had to write one chapter and pass it on to the next one who would build from where the previous one had left off, decipher the clues and add new ones and so on until the last one whose job it was to clean up the tangled web. Just as a pure intellectual challenge it sounds phenomenal - because each has characters thrust upon them, as it were, and situations to which they don't already know the answers beforehand and they each write in their own detection style, i.e. those that are alibi-hunters get busy with their Bradshaws while those that study the psychology of the victim get busy with that.

Dorothy Sayers, in the introduction, says that real life police tended to scoff at the 'amateur' detective beloved of this genre of fiction because the author always knows what is going to happen, and so the amateur 'tec finds the situation all set up for him; all he has to do is to spike the ball over the net, to use an analogy from my favourite game, volleyball. Therefore the writers took this up as a challenge to figure out what they could do when the situation was not of their own orchestration, and discovered some interesting things. For instance, the fact that the detective in the books always says, "There is only one way this could have happened". They were surprised at the varied explanations each of them could come up with for a situation that they themselves had imagined could only come about in one particular way.

I'm barely a few chapters into it, and I know that characterisation is going to be a victim of this type of group-writing. But as a budding writer, i find myself getting excited about the possibilities of intellectual exploration that something like this throws up, and already know that this is going to be one of the prized books in my 'tec collection, even if I don't like it.

Shakespeare

2008-01-10T20:02:00.000-08:00

I just finished an incredibly interesting book about Shakespeare by - surprisingly - Bill Bryson. I expected Bryson to use his characteristic wit to make his point about Shakespeare, and I wasn't disappointed, but I also found a scholarly work that proves an intimate knowledge and understanding of all the many books and analyses of Shakespeare over the years, and uses that to create a vivid picture of Shakespeare. Well, it might be more correct to say of his time, because so little is known about Shakespeare himself, that almost anything we say about him as a person could be called pure conjecture.

In a way, I quite like that, because I really respect the bard and consider his works seminal - as do millions of people around the world - and to find out that in reality he was a pompous popinjay, dirty and unshaven, stingy and rude and money-grubbing, churning out plays for a profit motive would have quite destroyed my pleasure. Somehow we human beings like making Gods of our accomplished and finding out the God has feet of clay mars the accomplishments themselves.

So basically all we know is when he died, probably when he was born and the date of his marriage. Even all the words of the plays may not be the ones that he wrote because editorial ethics and proof-reading were conspicuous by their absence. Many later editors who put together his works apparently deleted or changed whatever they didn't approve of or understand, and some of the purported words from his plays have still not been deciphered.

However, what does come through is that it was a strange and complex world of the theatre that Shakespeare inhabited. Theatres were placed outside the city, along with 'noisome' industries like dyeing and tanning of leather ( interesting but yucky fact - tanners used to soak leather in dogpuddy to soften it!), and the city gates were closed at dusk, which in winter fell at about 4 pm, and were only reopened the next morning. So god alone knows how people got to the theatre and how they got back home.

Plays used to go on for 4-5 hours, with breaks between the acts to trip the lights in the theatre. There was no set pattern as to how many scenes in an act or how many acts in a play. In order to make money, the theatre needed to be full day after day, so the play enacted changed almost daily, and the actors used to have to memorise parts from several plays at the same time. Moreover, due to the limited number of actors and the pay available for them, each actor used to play multiple roles within the same play. One of the factors that enabled the prolificity of playwrights was the constant demand for new material with which to woo back the audience. Given the miniscule pay that most people got, it's a wonder that so many of them seem to have thronged the theaters, but a rough calculation indicates that something like 50 million people - ten times the population of England - saw plays in a span of two years.

Shakespeare was not by any means a lauded man in his own lifetime - that was given more to Christopher Marlowe ( played unforgettably by Rupert Everett in Shakespeare in Love), and to a host of other writers including Fletcher and Beaumont, many of whom are obscure today or known only to scholars. However, he was an incredibly inventive genius who came up with thousands of phrases which now are so often used as to have become cliches - one fell swoop, vanish into thin air etc. He also excelled at creating words - like hereditary or critical, for example - and more than 800 of them are still in use and in the Oxford dictionary.

The book is well-writted, vivid and fast-paced. It very quickly takes you through the years that Shakespeare has inhabited and points out the unnerving lack of factual, verified material about the man known as English literature's genius. And it cobbles together the few facts from a host of sources and yet coherently knits them together to paint a picture( and I know there are 3 mixed metaphors in that sentence). So you come away with an interesting insight into the times that the man lived in, while having reached no further in undertsanding the man himself. Which, as I said earlier, is probably all the better - now we're free to imagine him as the idealistic young lover played by Joseph Fiennes in Shakespeare in Love.

Classic Children's books

2008-01-09T20:27:00.001-08:00

I was chatting with one of my oldest and dearest friends over the weekend and she asked me to tell her about some interesting books that her kids would enjoy. I'm a reader and collector of children's fiction so it's something I'm enjoying doing - Nance, this post is for you! Though it's more about the authors I enjoy than specific books, because in genre writing, many of them do an excellent job throughout their body of work. In this blogpost, I'm only covering the older authors - I'll have to do a whole new post to cover modern ones.

Let's start with the golden oldies. I love the classic children's authors from the 1920s and 30s and even older. Louisa May Alcott is contemporary even today, and Little women and many of her other books relevant and resonant in the characters that inhabit them. You can read and re-read these books from childhood to adulthood and always find something to think about, something to delight you. I enjoy Laura Ingalls Wilder too - her meticulous and easy-to-read frontier diaries of an american family settling the Wild West. It's interesting to note how independent the women were in spite of their traditional roles. Then I've always enjoyed Frances Hodgson Burnett, though I have to admit she errs on the side of the sentimental. Kate Douglas Wiggin and LM Montgomery also spring to mind for their happy yet spirited leading characters.

For ensemble casts combining boys and girls, I like Edith Nesbit and Noel Streatfeild. The children are so real and without any open sermonizing, many messages are driven home. The kids squabble and bicker like any normal children would, and are strong characters. I also admit to enjoying Enid Blyton - particularly the Five Findouters series, The Magic Faraway Tree and The Wishing chair series and the individual books - Those Dreadful Children, the Put-em Rights, The Family at Red Roofs and all the ones about farm and circus life - Six Cousins at Mistletoe Farm and Mr. Galliano's Circus, the adventure series and what are now called the Barney mysteries. Some of the other Blyton's I love are the Books of Fairies, book of brownies series, the Mr. meddle and Mr. Pink Whistle series, which are funny and fun. I've also always loved her Children's version of Pilgrim's Progress - The Land of Far Beyond. For younger kids, Noddy is fun and good reading. Blyton is an underrated and amazingly prolific writer who could as eaily write about the world of fantasy as about real children in the modern world. The only books that I didn't much enjoy were the Famous Five - which were too gender-role stereotyped.

I recommend Beverly Cleary - both her Ramona and Henry Huggins series are both peopled with believable characters and are funny and insightful. I like many of her other books too - Emily's Runaway imagination, for instance. I also really loved Elizabeth George Speare's The Witch of Blackbird Pond - a book about Puritan New England in the 1600s and have all her books including the lesser-known but equally interesting The Bronze Bow. Elizabtha Enright is another author who does lovely Ensemble books, including her series about the Melendy children - vivid, distinct little characters - and the Gone Away Lake.

I also love William, Billy Bunter and Jennings - and feel the enjoyment in particular of William becomes higher as you age ( as I have blogged about before). Adventure stories of all kinds appeal to me, from The Scarlet Pimpernel to Rafael Sabatini to Biggles to the Hardy Boys and the Three Investigators, though these are for pre-teens and not kids.

I also think childhood is a good time to introduce some of the classics - Tom Brown's Schooldays, Tom Sawyer and the many versions of the greek epics - Roger Llancelyn Green is particularly good with the Greek myths. And one of my favourite fairy tale books - which I just rediscovered on amazon - is the World's Best Fairy Tales by reader's digest. This has an exhaustive list of fairy tales from around the world, and is apparently now in two volumes. It had some delightful new fairy tales -from Andrew Lang's collection and beautiful colour illustrations. The copy I had was second-hand when I got it, and is now falling apart, so I am delighted to have found this for my kids to enjoy.

I have carefully refrained from ascribing reading levels to any of the books, because firstly all kids differ in reading ability. Secondly, I feel that if you get the kids interested in a story, they will wind up raising their reading level in order to read what they like - I remember starting the Findouters series at age 5.
So cheers and happy reading!

New Books

2008-01-08T01:22:00.001-08:00

I have made a new resolution - a promise to my husband, rather, that I won't buy more than one book a month this year. In the interests of fiscal prudence. However, being the crafty soul I am, I've already come up with a great way to overcome that limit. Over the weekend we were at Om Bookshop which was having a post Christmas sale. I saw a really interesting cookbook on African and Middle Eastern cooking which I promptly picked up. It said Buy 2 get one free, so I quickly urged A to pick up a cookbook for himself, since his new resolution is to try and cook once in a while. So then we got a third book free. Plus, later when we waded into the fiction section, since I had cleverly forgotten my wallet at home, A got to pay for my book selections as well! I got an interesting historical biography of Boudicca, someone I have always wnated to know more about.

I also picked up a few books just before the last year ended, so I have all that piled up. First of all, Alexander McCall Smith, whom I've never read despite or perhaps because of, his amazing popularity. I've picked the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency to start with. Then I got a couple of edgar Wallace reprints since I collect golden age detective fiction. And lastly, the book I started this morning - Shakespeare by Bill Bryson. An interesting contrast between writer and subject and I can't wait to read more...

The Kite Runner

2008-01-04T00:34:00.000-08:00

First of all, a Happy New Year, and to celebrate the new year, I changed my blog's name to something more appropriate for me. I'm a hungry reader and always three-deep at least in books of different genres. If reading were a sport, I'd be in the pro leagues. So I figured amateur reader just wasn't doing it for me. I'm a hungry bookworm. When I was growing up, my parents often had to scold me because I'd be so engrossed in whatever I was reading that I knew nothing about what was going on in the real world in front of me. When we visited family friends with kids, I was forbidden to take out any books from their bookshelves, because my parents knew that I'd be dead to the world, and highly rude to the host kid, because rather than play with them, I'd read by myself. I even used to smuggle a torch into my bedroom and read under the covers till late at night.

Of course, now being the sleep-deprived mother of two, I often wish I could get those sleep-hours back, but I have to admit, even now I often read until late at night. A often wishes he could get away for a reading holiday, but my idea of one would be to pack the kids off on vac and hang out at home reading through all the thousands of books we have collected. Yes, our collection does number thousands now, which includes many that we want to read but simply have not found the time for. This is what happens when a bookworm and hoarder meet a place with no decent library - they create their own!

In keeping with my resolve not to lazily fall into one of half a hundred easy re-reading books, but to actually read the 'recommended' new books, I finally read the Kite Runner when I was travelling on work. The book was gripping, and I felt I was meeting familiar characters because so many of the terms were the same as Hindi words, and so much of the culture seemed similar. The story was haunting, and yet had an inevitability about it - you somehow knew what was going to happen from page 1. Honestly speaking, the Afghan background was not required - the story could have happened in any one of a dozen places in the world, such are the times we live in. I guess it just had to be Afghanistan because tha author is from there.

How do I feel about the book? I liked it, though I saw shades of A Separate Peace in the story, which is a book I loved in high school. I also felt that many of the other characters remained shadow figures, apart from the protagonist. And I didn't really end up figuring out the protagonist either - who he was, what he was like as a person, apart from his guilt and the expiation of it. Apart from the father, who's easily the most complex character in the book and who yet never fully comes into his own, most of the characters are unidimensional and in a way functional to the story - it's as if everything in the story had to be tailored to build up to the particular climax. That works well for a thriller, but I'm not so sure it works in a character-development novel.

It was interesting to read the descriptions of California, though, as I believe Hossaini lives in Sunnyvale, which is where my sister and one of my best-liked Indian authors, Chitra Divakaruni Banerjee lives. Maybe it's something in the water there - will have to drink copious amounts next time and see if that propels me into best-selling author!

Poetry

2007-12-11T20:47:00.000-08:00

A comment on one of my other blogs talked about Ogden Nash, and that has sparked off a train of thought about poems. I remember how, back in school, we all had to read and mug up reams of poetry, and it was usually up there with Calmpose for most people, because it's seen as 'culture' and 'intellectual' and all that. I've always loved poetry, especially the Romantics - Shelley, Keats and so on - as well as several other poets whom I've come across, and it seems a shame to hang the tag of 'arty' on poetry and so keep people from enjoying them.

Poems are really interesting, because, unlike prose, editing is the very essence of poetry. It's a very precise art. Prose is more forgiving - it's like painting with oils, where if you goof up, there are things you can do. Poetry is more like water colour - just the right amount of paint and water in just the right spot - and there's no repairing a mistake. It's delicate, it's precise..in a way it's like the work of a jeweller. Each word has to be the right size, has to be polished to sparkle in that exact way. Each and every word has a set place which, in the wrong place, would spoil the beauty of the piece.

I have been meaning to put up a wonderful poem I discovered recently about life in olden times, but I've left my poetry book in the car. So instead, here are some of my favourite pieces. In humorous poetry, the poet has to be all the more careful, because each and every word has to have an impact. Ogden Nash is one of the masters in this genre, and his poems are so droll and so wonderfully crafted that generation upon generation will get the same mirth out of them.

"Some primal termite knocked on wood
and tasted it and found it good
And that is why your cousin May
Fell through the parlour floor today."

This one is by a poet whose name escapes me for the moment. It was my favourite during my (neverending) ugly duckling phase:

"For beauty I'm not a great star
There are others more handsome by far
But my face, I don't mind it
For I am behind it
It's the people in front
that I jar!"

And here's a piece from one of my all time favourite poems, Renascence, by Edna st. Vincent Millay:

"I would I were alive again,
To kiss the fingers of the rain,
To drink into my eyes the shine,
Of every slanting silver line,
For soon the shower will be done,
And then the broad face of the sun,
Will shine above the rain-soaked earth,
until the world with answering mirth,
Shakes joyously and each round drop
Rolls, twinkling, from its grassblade top."

I think it taught us something ineffable, to have to by-heart some of the world's great poetry and to have it available as a ready resource at the back of the mind. It added a certain richness to the mind, and I wonder if schools still make you do it. They should - because sometimes poetry has a way of painting such a vivid image that there are no other words to describe the same thing when it happens in your life...'For oft when on my couch I lie, in vacant or in pensive mood, they flash upon that inward eye, which is the bliss of solitude...' He could be talking about poetry!

Monsieur poirot

2007-11-15T02:06:00.000-08:00

It's been a long time since I wrote about books, huh? Not because I never read - I'm addicted to reading, and am usually about 3 deep, but because I've been busy and writing about books takes time for reflection and analysis. Lately I've been doing a course of Agatha Christie - all the old Miss Marples and Hercule Poirots. It's always amazing to me how prolific some of the old English authors were - Christie, Arthur Conan Doyle, Enid Blyton, Noel Streatfeild etc. It's also interesting to note how many of them had a classical education, and how well they wove it into the stories they wrote so that while being erudite, they still appealed to the masses because their style was not erudite and forbidding, but warm and welcoming.

When you compare and contrast Sherlock Holmes with Hercule Poirot, it's almost as if Christie set him up to be an exact opposite. Holmes is tall, with a cadaverously lean face. Poirot has an egg-shaped head and vast moustaches. He leaps to conclusions quickly and gathers clues at the site of the crime. When something happens, he says, "The scent is up", like a foxhound at the hunt, whereas Poirot prefers to sit back in his armchair and use the 'little grey cells'. Holmes is addicted to opium and plays the violin. He is organised but untidy, with the tobacco pouch often in his slipper, whereas Hercule is precise, as tidy as a pin and has a mania for symmetry.

Yet they both share certain characteristics. One of the most humanising things about them is their love for their less cerebral friend - Dr. Watson/ Captain Hastings - both of whom are interchangeable as characters. They both have a touch of vanity, a touch of the conjuror about them - they like dramatic denouements and neither is above bending the law in certain cases. They both believe that "... when you have excluded the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." They both plan to retire to the country, Holmes to do beekeeping and Poirot to grow marrows.

Interestingly, the sidekicks are the same character, under different names. Dr. Watson is straight-forward, gullible and rarely sees what Holmes is driving at. Captain Hastings is straight-forward, gullible and rarely sees what Poirot is driving at. Both have a soft spot for personable young men and pretty women. Both hope their 'hero' gets his comeuppance some day. And both are, thankfully, indefatigable chroniclers of their hero's doings, without which world literature would have been much poorer!

Free Burma

2007-10-04T00:10:00.000-07:00

Stories for Kids

2007-09-18T20:13:00.001-07:00

I don't know why ( maybe a recessive gene), but I seem to have a fascination for the past, be it history, biographies, antiques...even my husband is older than me! Part of that fascination naturally spills over into my choice of books. I collect children's books, and the bulk of my collection dates back to what I would call children's classics. There is a certain innocence to the children and their problems in those books which is endearing and much easier to deal with than the modern children's books which deal with drugs or dating, divorces etc. Even books which do have serious problems at their heart feature children who are lovable and child-like in their outlook.

William has already featured in a blog. Another children's writer whose books I adore is Noel Streatfeild - famously referred to as 'the shoe books' in the movie You've got mail. Her books are set during WWII and thereafter, and feature children who face genteel poverty. There are several different themes, from show business, which she does amazingly well from experience ( Ballet Shoes, Wintle's Wonders, Movie Shoes, Curtain Up, Apple Bough) to catching spies, playing competitive sports (Tennis Shoes) and so on. There is a stock cast of supporting characters of the Nanny type , and the children also fit into broad patterns - there is the vain child, the one who worries about everyone and one with a chip on his or her shoulder. There is also the child who is always wholly, naturally himself or herself. Despite the recurrent themes, there is a universal appeal even to those children born today who may not understand the context of WWII in Europe or the concerns of those children.

Another children's author who is incredibly good at relating to and painting the world of the child is Beverly Cleary. I have just started reading her memoir, A Girl from Yamhill, and am enjoying discovering all the interesting stories in her own childhood that she later wove into the life of Ramona Quimby and Henry Huggins, among others. She is extremely good at painting life from the perspective of the child even while she reports what is going on in the life of the grown-ups in the book.

Laura Ingalls Wilder is another favourite. Her books are memoirs, not fiction, and she has written about life as a pioneer girl going out West with her family in the America of the 1880s. As she grows up through the series, the perspective changes so the reader grows up along side. The language is simple yet evocative and is a wonderful record of life in those times. I am awed by her ability to remember the details of what happened when and where, since she wrote these books many years later - I'd be hard put to it to remember what happened yesterday.

Edith Nesbit is another children's author whom I enjoy reading, though I confess I usually re-read The Railway children more often than Five Children and It or the other stories. There is a certain resemblance to Noel Streatfeild in The Railway Children in the characters of the children in the book, and the issues they face, how they face them. The supporting cast is also similar, which may explain my fondness for the book.

What makes most of these books firm favourites for me is that the characters are alive. As a fledgling writer myself, I am going through the struggle of finding the 'voice' of different characters and differentiating one voice from the other. The plot and character development both complement each other; one does not compromise the other in these stories. And of course, the pay-off, as with Biggles - the good guys always win. Not a win as they would have pictured it, perhaps, but a win nevertheless.

Just William

2007-09-07T01:36:00.000-07:00

William is an endearing child - though only from a distance. If he was my son, I'm sure my BP would be way over normal. He gets up to all kinds of mischief, from running on fences to letting sheep out of their pens. He is constantly into mischief. He loathes school and wants to found a society for suppression of cruelty to boys, abolishing school and baths, among other things. He is always the fearless leader of his gang, and is to be found outdoors, ideally as dirty and mud-soaked as possible. His imagination constantly runs away from him, and he cannot perform the simplest of tasks without injecting an element of fantasy into them. He talks endlessly, he can be shrewd and manipulative when needed, and has a secret soft corner for extremely feminine girls.

William Brown was the creation of author Richmal Crompton, who came up with the boy in 1919. From then until her death in 1969, she wrote 38 novels featuring William and his band of outlaws. What is incredible is that despite somewhat repetitive storylines, there is some twist or other to keep you engrossed through the series. She has managed to capture the mind of the child ina completely natural way, as the best of children's writing does. At the same time, her books are cleverly layered so that they appeal to adults as much, if not more. One of her cleverest stories, for instance has to do with a critique of communism. In it, William's elder broether and the brothers of his friends band together to create a bolshevist society and decide that since everyone should have an equal share of everything, they will ask their fathers for a fair share of everything their fathers own. William and his band naturally overhear all the rhetoric, and fired by it and believeing it implicitly, do their best to even up the injustice of the world by helping themselves to a fair share of their brothers' possessions. That's when the brother and his friends realise the weak spot - it's all very well asking for other people's things but it's a different matter when someone else asks you for their share of your things!

Richmal Crompton also unerringly puts her finger on the foibles of the older generation, be they parents, or youth - William's brother and sister, or the endless stream of relatives and neighbours who populate William's world, from victorian Great-aunts to the vicar's wife, to a nouveau riche culture vulture. The books are set in what I like to think of as 'Merry England', not Robin Hood's time, but a time before the two world wars, when life seemed to have a gentleness and an innately gracious rhythm the world has not seen since. Though several of the books do take place during WWII, encompassing some of the events that Britain went through, including air raids, bomb shelters and rationing, life is still a fun adventure, rather than something serious to be analysed and pondered over.

Reading William always puts a smile on my face, though I daresay I won't let my son read these books before he's in his teens (don't want him to get any more ideas for mischief). I'm sure if I were William's mom I'd go mad. But I do find it sad that we live in a world where I need to send someone to supervise my son, rather than letting him run to the park by himself, and envy William and his friends their ability to range across field and wood, at their will.

Indian rib-ticklingly funny book

2007-08-26T21:47:00.000-07:00

Forgot to mention one really funny book I came across a couple of years ago - No onions nor garlic. It's about caste-politics in a South Indian university. It's by an Indian author based in Canada and so funny that I actually laughed out loud more than once. I'm not sure everyone will get it, i.e. if you're not South indian/ clued into caste politics in South India, so I have given it to a friend as an experiment, but i loved it. Deliciously ironic and peppered with funny characters.

Indian authors

2007-08-23T00:26:00.000-07:00

Let me, first of all, admit to my pretensions to non-intellectuality. That means I'm a little scared of books that seem difficult or intellectually challenging, and usually don't go there. By and large I prefer easier reading - classics like Pride and Prejudice, the whole genre of Golden Age detective fiction including Sapper et all, swashbuckling adventures and romances, fictional biographies etc. One genre that I have unfortunately never been able to get into is Indian Authors.

I have tried to read some of them, and my husband used to buy all of them once upon a time, but now we have decided we're too old to pretend to grey cells we don't have ( anyway post 30 one is supposed to start losing the few we had acquired till then!). I find many of them very difficult to read, angsty and depressing. The one I do like is Chitra Banerji Divakaruni - though she does get repetitive. I used to read a lot of Nayantara Sehgal at one time but not lately. I also feel that what many Indian authors write about hits too close to home - I'm an escapist when it comes to reading and would rather read about a better/ more interesting world than the same old - if I wanted reality, I'd curl up with the daily newspaper!

It's interesting - I had never analysed this before but now that I have and the cat's out of the bag, I feel happier - no more pretending/ feeling intellectually challenged for not wanting to read about the miseries of Parsis/ partition/ urban/ rural Bengal/ whatever!

Speaking of which let me also admit that I thought the book The Namesake sucked. What was the big deal - it was just another second gen immigrant's tale. Gogol never came to life! What was amazing was the luminous film Mira Nair crafted out of it, and the fact that she realised that the story lay in Ashima and her husband, their evolution and the struggle to adjust.

Also, I did not like The God of Small Things, apart from the last chapter which describes the affair between the mother and Velutha. The rest of the book was badly over-written and incoherent!

Liked: Swati Kaushal's Piece of Cake. Light, witty and charming. Contemporary.
Born Confused, I think by Tanu...Desai. Intelligently and movingly written 2nd-Gen tale.
English, August by Upamanyu Chatterjee. Funny and heartfelt.
The Cuckold by Kiran Nagarkar. Poignant and lyrical in its writing.
Chitra Banerji Divakaruni - Beautifully written, real characters, poignant moments
though I do wish all the Indian characters weren't from homes where women were
suppressed, and who found freedom and self expression once exported to America. There
are a few of us self-expressing non-suppressed types even back here in India. In fact,
going by reports about the Indian community in the UK, there may be more suppression
and oppression going on there!

Book-buying spree

2007-08-08T01:57:00.000-07:00

I love it when I go shopping for books - and given my fatal addiction, that happens about once a week on average. It's ruinous on bank account and house space but certainly makes up for it by the happiness generated before, during and after the purchase. I was out for a meeting yesterday evening and found myself in a market I rarely visit nowadays because of its severe parking problems - Saket main market.

It has a couple of bookshops, but I headed for the big one, Om Book Shop, to check out their collection. I had been wanting to buy a cookbook by Jamie Oliver for a while but unfortunately they were all out of stock of those. I eyed several Culinarias wistfully - they look gorgeous and the pictures are wonderful, but they cost such a bomb. And weigh a ton, too. I finally bought Ismail Merchant's cookbook and another interesting one called Spices in the Eastern Mediterranean. The Spices one has lots of interesting recipes from Turkey which is a country I recently visited and have a soft spot for, and the pictures are great too. I find that in cookbooks there are 2 categories - the food memoir and the instructions manual. Tarla Dalal tends to err on the instructions manual side, and while I love her cookbooks, have most of them and admit all her recipes turn out brilliantly, I can't quite curl up in an armchair with her stuff. What I like to read ( even bedside reading) is the food-memoir - Shoba Narayan, Madhur Jaffrey et al.

I also bought an Indian 'chicklit', I guess, though I haven't yet begun it, called The Hindi Bindi Club - one of my friends has been mentioning it for a couple of years - one of her writing club friends began it a couple of years ago - it sounded interesting. And ShahRukh Khan's biography by Anupama Chopra is out, so I got that too.

My husband, who's the complete non-cook apart from making tea, started leafing through the Ismail Merchant book and was tempted to try out some of the recipes, so that's probably a good book to buy for someone who likes non-vegetarian Indian cuisine and can't cook! The Shah Rukh Khan book is well written, and traces the growth and development of India alongside the trajectory of both Bollywood and King Khan. It does a good job of getting inside his head and explaining what he is all about, though it leaves out a few facets. Definitely worth a read and a buy, especially at its price of Rs. 295. Only thing that irritated me - the sanskrit play Mrigacchi Kattika was changed to mirch kattika!

What I love about the process of buying books is the adventure - will I find a new author or a new book by old favourite author today? Will I discover a new genre? Will I bankrupt myself in trying to buy 25 new books all at once?

Ooh, lots of lovely reading to do now!

The Lure of Biggles

2007-08-06T05:49:00.001-07:00

I have been quite stressed at work lately so I decided to head for comfort reading - digging up old favourites. Interestingly, rather than head for humour as my husband tends to do, I tend to go for old favourite authors in the adventure category when I have limited bandwidth. I re-read a whole set of Biggles books, in any old order since at present my library is in a shambles and not organised enough to keep books of a type together. From the one where he first turns up in France to fly to the ones where he is an accomplished Ace to ones where he is outwitting a specific enemy of the 'Hun' type and those where he is merely fighting off a bunch of thugs...it's great bedtime reading.

I found myself wondering what was the appeal of these. To me, first of all, I love reading books about the World Wars - II preferred to I, but either will do. Then, the characters are straight-forward. No bellyaching about their motivations or tortured thought-processes. Simple credo really - fight for your country, defend your friends, go off at half-cock if someone throws you a challenge or implies that you can't do such and such. Don't flinch at danger. And always be up for a bit of fun and adventure.

The stories range across a wide canvas geographically and in terms of specific situations and cast of villains. Characterisation is not the hallmark of these stories - the surrounding cast is pretty mich interchangeable, apart from one or two sidekicks and villains. The stories have a racy pace and display a nice sense of humour and irony from time to time.

But ultimately what gets me is the feel-good payoff - the good guys always win!

Harry Potter 7

2007-07-22T20:44:00.001-07:00

Whew. What a weekend! I've been hooked to Harry Potter since 1999 - when my then boyfriend (now husband) gifted me the first three books. I've wavered in my loyalties through books 5 and 6 in particular, because they just seemd like prologues to the real stuff, i.e. Book 7. And after all the hype, all the news and all the excitement, I hoped it wasn't going to be a letdown.

We had pre-ordered our copy from Fabmall but the kids woke us up at 5 am - not to read the book, they're too young, but JLT - and after that I couldn't get back to sleep. So I lay and brooded and brooded and brooded until by 8 am I couldn't stand it. "Can't wait for the postman", I yelled, and chivvied poor hubby, who'd been out late the previous night, into driving us down to the nearest Landmark to buy us a copy. While there, I also saw the kidebrity who's featured on HT Sunday's front page as the 7 year old who loves the HP books (whether they're suitable or not for a 7 year old is a whole other post).

Despite all our rushing, I could only seriously start reading around 1:30 as we were running around doing errands. I had to force myself to slow down despite the breathless pace of the book itself, as I really didn't want this book and therefore the series, to end.

When I put it down finally, I was in awe of the author - she's my pin-up idol, if I had one today. What is incredible is the little touches of whimsy which show a fantastically inventive brain at work - and once she names something, it seems so natural that one wonders why one never realised that before, e.g. goblins speaking gobbledegook, or the deluminator...She has created a wonderful world which is so real that one is a little dazed when one looks up from the book and sees our everyday world. She has borrowed from the classics, both ancient and modern, and made them so spectacularly her own, that a whole generation of children is likely to say - Doesn't this remind you of Harry Potter?, when they read the myths, rather than the other way around. And she has spun a phenomenon which reaches people across ages, cultures, countries and languages. It's not about the commercialisation of the book - people must have tried that and failed with several other books. But the reason why the commercial aspect of the Harry Potter franchise succeeds is because of the success of Harry Potter, rather than the other way around.

Children and adults in India, Russia, South America, Germany, the US and other parts of the globe overwhelmingly respond in the same way to her books ( I'm talking about the fans here). Seriously, when was the last time you saw so much excitement, so much participation or so much security around a book? When was the last time both parents and children fought among themselves to be the first to read a book or bought individual copies for each person in a house? When was the last time a book release made you so anxious you queued up outside the bookstore at 1 am or thereabouts to get your hands on a copy?

I think people should be thanking her, not only for writing this wonderful series, but for making it cool, in a world where pictures have started to mean more than a thousand words, for people to read more than a thousand words!

I Confess

2007-07-19T20:57:00.000-07:00

I like to think of myself as somewhat intellectual - not necessarily the JNU type, but as someone who lives for and loves mental stimulation, and takes in a wide range of topics as areas of interest. That is true to some extent, but I do have a darker, shallower self too. It tends to be more active when I'm stressed at work - not that that's any excuse - in the form of what I read.

All the most undemanding, comfortable, old friends type of genres and authors get dusted off at this time. Chicklit, naturally, is a big part of this phase, and I really enjoy Jill Mansell whose characters are always fun and not much given to agonising over anything. I like Shiela O'Flanagan too, and I really enjoy the Shopaholic series by Sophie Kinsella though I do wish her heroines would show a tiny bit more of grey matter. Georgette Heyer is also a favourite, for her wonderful mix of adventure, mystery and romance, and her heroines usually tend to be more substantial in terms of character.

GO - Girl's own - literature is another soother for me. I love Elinor M. Brent-Dyer's Chalet series ( should since it inspired my first book) and these effortlessly transport me back in time to an era where all that mattered was another schoolgirl's rivalry/ jealousy, homework assignments and exams (come to think of it, not much different from work, eh?). Anne of Green Gables, Betsy-Tacy and their friends, Katy and what she did, all of them have the same resonance - of a simpler, less harried world in which relationships were not only important but nurtured with time and patience, where kids could run around freely with little worry of either traffic or human predators, and time itself seemed to move less slowly so they could enjoy each day to its fullest.

Adventure/ thrill is another genre I'm partial to at these times, from the swash-buckling stories of Rafael Sabatini and Anthony Hope (Prisoner of Zenda is an old favourite book and movie) to the more modern Biggles single-handedly hunting down huns and assorted villains. Nancy drew sometimes gets a look in though by and large I don't like her, and the Hardy Boys and Three Investigators are visited more often. I just finished a Hardy Boy story set in the Canadian North-West - how can you not like stories with adventure out in the wilds of wherever, in which the villains get captured with a left/ right hook to the jaw instead of a 'wicked automatic' and immediately start fighting amongst themselves and spilling the beans ( no torture needed here)?

Romance is a genre that I do take to now and then, though my appetite for pure romance a la Mills and Boon is dying down - maybe I'm growing up. I prefer M&Bs that have adventure/ detection as a central theme. Barbara Cartland's novels have recently been re-released by an indian publisher so I'm rreading a few of those, though I tell myself it's for the historical detail. It can hardly be for character analysis - all her heroines are in the same mould of being super thin, petite, with over-large eyes for their faces and very fair, spiritual, all interested in the East and reincarnation and abused in some way, while the men always have angular faces with strong chins, are outstandingly handsome and accomplished, usually well-read as well as well-traveled to exotic places including the East, and also very rich and with many mistresses/ lovers panting after them while they have never given their hearts to anyone...Danielle Steel, I blush again to confess, is another of the romance-authors I live, though her heroines have a little more spirit. However they too are typically cast in the same mould, and sometimes I wonder if it isn't the very sameness that attracts me - no surprises, happy ending...

Last of all but definitely not least of all, the humour section of our library gets dusted off. There's the autobiographical books of Bob Hope - screamingly funny, and laugh-out-loud - don't read them in public if you get embarassed by people staring at you strangely! William and his shenanigans are always good for a little bedtime reading to stop thinking about work/ computing numbers in your sleep. Wodehouse's entire oeuvre comes into this category as well. And I love both Cheaper by the dozen and Belles on their toes (don't see the movies with Steve Martin, they are a travesty). Daddy Long Legs is another book that falls between GO and funny.

There, now it's out. Now I can go back to my intel-prententious self (until 21st and Harry potter the 7th, of course)

About books

2007-07-18T02:31:00.000-07:00

As I said on my other blog one day, I love books. They are almost more than the breath of life to me and it is a rare place or occasion that I can't find the time to read. I read while in the car (my husband/ driver driving, natch), while bathing, while reading, while watching TV, while...you get the picture. I also love collecting books and have now amassed a collection that is literally reading us out of home - there are books spilling out of practically every corner of the house. I'm kind of ashamed of the condition my books are in because they've been shoved into a storage area and are rather dusty, since we moved the library out of the spare bedroom to make space for our two kids. But we are expanding the house and plan to set aside a room as the library/ study by the end of the year, hopefully.

Books are my friends, my entertainers, my comfort...I've spent a lot of white nights in my youth, propped up by a stack of books next to my bed. As a result I am pretty possessive and hate it when friends don't return what they borrow - as a result I'm pretty selective about who I lend my books to.

I am a serial hobbyist - you know the type - gardening one day, interior decor the next, and my favourite way to learn more about any of these hobbies is through books - it's also a great excuse to buy more books, if I needed one. I have managed to collect some 'collectables', i.e. out of print paperbacks from the Golden Age of detective fiction - SS Van Dine etc. I love scouring through second hand bookshops, because it's kind of like a treasure hunt - not so much that you may find a book that can make you rich, but that you may discover an old favourite or a gem you had heard about but not found.

I am a re-reader, frequently seeking out old favourites to soothe jangled nerves, but also like discovering new authors. I have catholic tastes, ranging from children's literature, school stories to whodunnits, poetry, classics, biographies, travel writing and books about food. In fact, I have amassed over 200 books about cooking and recipes over the last 2-3 years, to fan one of my other passions.

This blog is primarily going to be about whatever I'm reading, my opinions, loves, hates, things like that, but I would also love to host a book club section - where we brainstorm together about what to read in the next month ( 2 titles, max) for the club, and then have an online discussion about the books.