Recreational:
Another Roadside Attraction, Tom Robbins
Tom Robbins is my favorite source of absurdity in a country – not to mention a world – that has a sometimes surprisingly deep and abiding love for boxes. I was skeptical when I was given this book as an apology, and I waited a long time to read it – until the American thanksgiving crossed over the end of the Mumbai terrorist attacks. It became my first auto-rickshaw reading, balanced on the edge of the bench next to the driver and immediately behind the exhaust pipe of a bus, against the edge of a bag pressed against my chest – which is, in a sense, exactly where Robbins belongs. This was not my favorite of his, but it was magical and familiar and twisted and enlightened, and that was enough.
A Backward Place, Ruth Prawer Jhabvala
It is stunning, and humbling, and in the end not at all surprising, how little the expat experience, let alone ‘scene,’ has changed in India over the last fifty years – an insightful sliver of individual ambitions and reformed identities in a world where everyone seems to be living out of context.
Siddhartha, by Herman Hesse
A classic, which I have very little right to review here. I found it contained a lot of wisdom, many forms of which had passed through my mind at various points, but rarely with Hesse’s elegant poise.
The Shadow Lines, Amitav Ghosh
This made an excellent commuting book, as large sections of it took place in and around Gol Park, which I passed every day on the way to and from work. Although it is not considered one of Ghosh’s best books, it provides a quietly powerful analysis of fantasy and of lives built between worlds.
The Age of Kali, William Dalrymple
Somewhere between feeling guilty of being an escapist reader and wanting to both judge and improve my own writing about India, I decided it was imperative that I read this book. Written as Dalrymple was converting from a travel writer to a historian, these brief and brightly colored essays on travels through India are at turns disgusted, amorous, and incredulous – but my favorite thing about them is that they lay out contrasts, and rather than spelling out the difference, allow you to make your own judgments about the serious spectacle of life in and around the country.
The Argumentative Indian, Amartya Sen (second half)
As carefully written, and as equally dry and brilliant, as the first half – very academic, but definitively worth reading.
The White Tiger, Aravind Adiga
The winner of the 2008 Booker prize, I read a very Indian counterfeit copy of this book (probably wrapped in cellophane and sold by a boy at a traffic light or an illiterate man in stack of books on the sidewalk – but I borrowed it from a friend, so I wouldn’t know the details), and enjoyed the rush of the story and the knowing details. I’m far from convinced of its enduring brilliance, but I do think that it provides a valuable portrait of one more mustachioed entrepreneur.
Theoretical:
Same-Sex Love in India, Ruth Vanita and Saleem Kidwai
This revered book presents a thorough review of the depiction of various forms of same-sex love in Indian writing from ancient to modern times, accompanied by detailed and insightful essays on the patterns, pressures, and paradigms that the authors have identified in the texts.
Sexuality, Gender and Rights: Exploring Theory and Practice in South and Southeast Asia, edited by Geetanjali Misra and Radhika Chandiramani
The title says it all.
Current:
Temptations of the West: How to be Modern in India, Pakistan, Tibet and Beyond, Pankaj Mishra
The introductory essay is tantalizing, and although the main sections of the book seem to be less personal (I got about halfway through the Gandhi-Nehru dynasty, for the umpteenth but still relevant time), Mishra seems to be an author to keep an eye out for.
Gravity’s Rainbow, Thomas Pynchon
Around page 130, I realized that this book was about (among other, both larger and smaller, things) World War II, and was ready to start reading it. I’ll report back in another seven hundred pages.
Another Roadside Attraction, Tom Robbins
Tom Robbins is my favorite source of absurdity in a country – not to mention a world – that has a sometimes surprisingly deep and abiding love for boxes. I was skeptical when I was given this book as an apology, and I waited a long time to read it – until the American thanksgiving crossed over the end of the Mumbai terrorist attacks. It became my first auto-rickshaw reading, balanced on the edge of the bench next to the driver and immediately behind the exhaust pipe of a bus, against the edge of a bag pressed against my chest – which is, in a sense, exactly where Robbins belongs. This was not my favorite of his, but it was magical and familiar and twisted and enlightened, and that was enough.
A Backward Place, Ruth Prawer Jhabvala
It is stunning, and humbling, and in the end not at all surprising, how little the expat experience, let alone ‘scene,’ has changed in India over the last fifty years – an insightful sliver of individual ambitions and reformed identities in a world where everyone seems to be living out of context.
Siddhartha, by Herman Hesse
A classic, which I have very little right to review here. I found it contained a lot of wisdom, many forms of which had passed through my mind at various points, but rarely with Hesse’s elegant poise.
The Shadow Lines, Amitav Ghosh
This made an excellent commuting book, as large sections of it took place in and around Gol Park, which I passed every day on the way to and from work. Although it is not considered one of Ghosh’s best books, it provides a quietly powerful analysis of fantasy and of lives built between worlds.
The Age of Kali, William Dalrymple
Somewhere between feeling guilty of being an escapist reader and wanting to both judge and improve my own writing about India, I decided it was imperative that I read this book. Written as Dalrymple was converting from a travel writer to a historian, these brief and brightly colored essays on travels through India are at turns disgusted, amorous, and incredulous – but my favorite thing about them is that they lay out contrasts, and rather than spelling out the difference, allow you to make your own judgments about the serious spectacle of life in and around the country.
The Argumentative Indian, Amartya Sen (second half)
As carefully written, and as equally dry and brilliant, as the first half – very academic, but definitively worth reading.
The White Tiger, Aravind Adiga
The winner of the 2008 Booker prize, I read a very Indian counterfeit copy of this book (probably wrapped in cellophane and sold by a boy at a traffic light or an illiterate man in stack of books on the sidewalk – but I borrowed it from a friend, so I wouldn’t know the details), and enjoyed the rush of the story and the knowing details. I’m far from convinced of its enduring brilliance, but I do think that it provides a valuable portrait of one more mustachioed entrepreneur.
Theoretical:
Same-Sex Love in India, Ruth Vanita and Saleem Kidwai
This revered book presents a thorough review of the depiction of various forms of same-sex love in Indian writing from ancient to modern times, accompanied by detailed and insightful essays on the patterns, pressures, and paradigms that the authors have identified in the texts.
Sexuality, Gender and Rights: Exploring Theory and Practice in South and Southeast Asia, edited by Geetanjali Misra and Radhika Chandiramani
The title says it all.
Current:
Temptations of the West: How to be Modern in India, Pakistan, Tibet and Beyond, Pankaj Mishra
The introductory essay is tantalizing, and although the main sections of the book seem to be less personal (I got about halfway through the Gandhi-Nehru dynasty, for the umpteenth but still relevant time), Mishra seems to be an author to keep an eye out for.
Gravity’s Rainbow, Thomas Pynchon
Around page 130, I realized that this book was about (among other, both larger and smaller, things) World War II, and was ready to start reading it. I’ll report back in another seven hundred pages.
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