The Inheritance of Loss

Before I go into more detail, I will first summarize this book in two words: Eloquent and Depressing. With an emphasis on depressing.

Okay, now for my more detailed thoughts on this book, of which I have many. So get ready.

It wasn't exactly a page turner, in fact there were definitely times when I felt like I was slogging through it. I talked to someone at work today who said they tried and just couldn't quite finish it and she knew of someone else who had the same problem. I think part of this is because there are so many references to the seemingly trillions of regions and countries, former countries, and former regions in the surrounding areas. And it seemed like each region had like 3 different names for its people and then like 3 new names based on their religion and it all just got very confusing and served to highlight my complete ignorance of that area of the world.

Also, without spoiling it, I'll just say that I did not like the ending. I hate it when the ending of a book sucks! It's such a disappointment.

All of that said, the virtues of the book aren't really in the characters or even the plot specifics. The beauty of the book is in its prose and the way it tells the story of India (and Indians). It almost seemed like the author viewed the characters not as individuals with their own stories to tell, but rather as tools to tell the bigger story of India, colonialism, and really, the rest of the world. The characters felt more representative than specific.

I thought the language was really beautiful. So much so that I actually had to borrow Jeff's nerdy highlighter and use it a few times. There were a few passages that were so eloquent that I wanted to go back and reread them. Here is just part of a paragraph where a main character witnesses a riot in the 1980's:
"How can the ordinary be changed? Were these men entirely committed to the importance of the procession or was there a disconnected quality to what they did? Were they taking their cues from old protest stories or from the hope of telling a new story? Did their hearts rise and fall to something true? Once they shouted, marched, was the feeling authentic? Did they see themselves from a perspective beyond this moment, these unleashed Bruce Lee fans in their American T-shirts made-in-China-coming-in-via-Kathmandu?"

And another about a young Indian guy named Biju trying to make it in New York (and failing):
"Biju walked back to the Ghandi Cafe, thinking he was emptying out. Year by year, his life wasn't amounting to anything at all: in a space that should have included family, friends, he was the only one displacing the air. And yet, another part of him had expanded: his self-consciousness, his self-pity -- oh the tediousness of it. Clumsy in America, a giant-sized midget, a bigfat-sized helping of small... Shouldn't he return to a life where he might slice his own importance, to where he might relinquish this overrated control over his own destiny and perhaps be subtracted from its determination altogether? He might even experience that greatest luxury of not noticing himself at all."

So there you have it. I hated it and I loved it.

I started The Pillars of the Earth tonight right after finishing The Inheritance of Loss. I leave for Alaska tomorrow night so I probably won't be posting until Wednesday of next week, at which time I will hopefully have a "review" ready for The Pillars of the Earth.

Bookends

I finished Bookends by Jane Green last night. I'm not going to lie, I really liked this book. In my opinion, it is by far her best book, at least of the ones that I've read so far.

It had all the solid qualities of a good chick lit book - main character in her early 30s, working single professional, dating and romance, and of course the witty, gay best friend. Better yet though, there was more to it than just the basic formula. The characters all seemed like actual people and the story was well written. I genuinely liked (and related to) the main character and her relationships with her friends. It also touches on many of the things that we go through in our late twenties/early thirties - career changes, having kids, realizing it's been 10 years since college, reuniting with old friends and the guilt surrounding having lost touch with them in the first place. I'm not sure the book warrants a more in depth analysis than this, but I would definitely recommend it if you're looking for a break from some more serious reading.

On a side note, I think I really am on to something with the whole gay best friend in chick-lit thing. I should probably go back to grad school and write my thesis on "The Role of the Queeny Best Friend in Modern Fiction Targeted at Females ages 25-35". Do we all have an inner fag hag dying to come out? These are the types of serious questions I will address in my thesis.

So I plan to start The Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai during lunch today. The back of the book describes it like this:
In a crumbling, isolated house at the foot of Mount Kanchenjunga in the Himalayas lives an embittered judge who wants only to retire in peace, when his orphaned granddaughter, Sai, arrives on his doorstep. The judge's cook watches over her distractedly, for his thoughts are often on his son, Biju, who is hopscotching from one gritty New York restaurant to another. Kiran Desai's brilliant novel, published to huge acclaim, is a story of joy and despair. Her characters face numerous choices that majestically illuminate the consequences of colonialism as it collides with the modern world.

Sounds good, right? I'll let you know what I think. In the meantime, I think I may take Amy up on her comment suggestion and buy Into the Wild or Thunderstruck (or both!) for my upcoming Alaska trip.

Slowest Reader Ever

I was right. I was way too excited in LA to read much. I read about 4 pages while on the beach in Malibu before a seagull shat on me. Then I think I read about 2 pages on the plane ride home before falling asleep with my head on the pull down table (my chatty single neighbor did WAKE ME UP to offer to let me rest my head on his shoulder while I slept, but I declined - creeeeepy). I'm still reading Bookends by Jane Green, and hope to be done in the next couple of days.

Jeff and I leave for Juneau, Alaska next week for my cousin's wedding which is on the 21st. We'll be there for 5 nights. I'm getting the distinct impression that I'll have more time in Alaska to read than I did in LA (less excitement = more time to read), so my plan is to tackle The Inheritance of Loss on that trip. I might even have time for a second book. Any recommendations? Please post any recommendations in the comments section!

In defense of chick-lit

I swung by Half Price Books on Roosevelt last night. Visiting Half Price Books when I normally shop at Barnes and Noble is a bit like stepping into TJ Max after spending your life shopping at Nordstroms. No pretty displays, no "recommended reads" or "new in fiction" section. While the place is no B&N, I have to admit that I felt rather cost-savvy as I walked out of there with 3 books for under $16 (total, not per book).

The first book I bought is just what I need after reading The Alchemist - classic chick lit. It's called Stuck in Downward Dog and it's by Chantel Simmons. In my last post, I said I was hoping for a book about a 30-something woman living in England and working in PR. I couldn't quite hit that nail on the head. Instead this book stars Mara who is 28, living in Toronto and working as a receptionist at a plastic surgery clinic. I started it last night and should be finished soon. Check back for a "review" later this week.

I also picked up a Jane Green book - Bookends. I've already read 4 of her other books (Jemmima J, Babyville, Mr. Maybe, The Other Woman) and while they cannot be called high brow literature, I love them all the same. I think this one will be perfect reading for my upcoming LA trip.

My addiction to chick lit can be kind of embarrassing, but at the same time I feel the need to defend it. Life isn't always as romantic and happily-ever-after as I'd like, so sometimes it's fun to read about lives that *are*. Because chick-lit is a reading staple for me, it always feels a bit like coming home when I pick up a book by someone like Jane Green, Marian Keyes, Elizabeth Young, or Sophie Kinsella. I find the familiar plot-lines and characters in these books very comforting. Particularly if they are wittily written, which many are. Jane Green's books always contain just the right amount of British slang - bum instead of butt, wobbly bits instead of cellulite, chap, bloke, and I really love it when people say bloody or bugger off. Interestingly, I just googled Jane Green looking for her book list and it turns out she has her own blog! In case you're interested, here it is: http://www.janegreen.com/

I also picked up The Inheritance of Loss, which sounded very familiar, but I'm sure I haven't read it. It's a bit more serious, so I think I'll start that that up after my trip, when I'm feeling like I need a break from chick-lit.