Category: Fiction

  • The Indian Clerk

    David Leavitt 

    The Indian Clerk is a historic novel based on real events and real characters, but mixes actual history with a bit of fiction. It begins with a lecture given by the great British mathematician GH Hardy in Harvard in 1936, quickly zooming back to 1913 when Hardy was working on the Riemann hypothesis. He receives a letter from Ramanujan, a clerk in the Madras Post Office, who seems to have come close to a solution to the problem.

    Soon Ramanujan arrives in England, and the genius of the ‘Hindoo calculator’is quickly acknowledged. The narrative is then shown through different perspectives – Hardy’s, Alice Neville’s and though Ramanujan plays a key role, it also brings into focus the various other events, people and even attitudes in the timeframe that Ramanujan lived in England – World War I, the collaboration between Hardy and Littlewood, Bertrand Russell’s antiwar activities, the Apostles’ meetings and so on. It is interesting to note that though his genius is acknowledged, both Alice and Hardy have conflicting views on how Ramanujan can be given the perfect conditions to flourish and both have sexual undertones in their relationship with him.

    The thing that didn’t work for the book was that in the middle, it meandered away from the central theme – Ramanujan and his mathematics – into the politics of the era. Where it does work wonderfully is in bringing out the person in Ramanujan – a normal person with his own set of problems, desires, insecurities and even a capacity to feel insulted at what some would consider the pettiest of things. It is quite heart rending to see a man trying to cope with conditions completely alien to him, separated from a wife from whom he craves attention (if only through letters) even as he understands that it is a better stage for him to shine. It is difficult not to feel for the man. What it also does is show mathematics in a new light “…mathematics had tantalized us with a pattern, only to snatch it away. Really, it was rather like dealing with God”

    So if you don’t have some kind of natural aversion to mathematics and don’t mind wading through the politics of the time, this is quite a good read, especially towards the end, when the focus is on the person within the greatest mathematician of his time.

  • This Time Of Morning

    Nayantara Sahgal 

    The books set in the era after independence (that I have read) have mostly dealt with partition and its aftermath. This one is different because it is set in a later period, but one that captures the challenges before a nation and its people. People who have had to change from being freedom fighters to bureaucrats, politicians and ordinary, but free citizens who all have to play a part in nation building. People who know they’re being watched by others across the world as they set about laying the foundations of a country.

    As a member of India’s first family in politics, Nayantara Sahgal is very well suited to write this tale. The anecdotes on Gandhi, the notes on Nehru’s room, all add to the authenticity of the narratives. Though we begin to see India through the eyes of Rakesh, a foreign service officer who returns to the country after six years, a long list of characters soon appear – bureaucrats, politicians, and their families, all of whom have to cope with the changing landscape.

    The book offers a view of the early stages of corruption that’s now an epidemic in India – when industry meets bureaucracy and politics, and a new generation of politicians, who have had little role in the freedom struggle, suddenly get their taste of power. An older set is forced to watch vested interests take precedence over morality and integrity. Power struggles and manipulations among them are interspersed with cultural clashes between generations and outlooks, providing a wholesome snapshot of an era.

    With so many unique characters, whom the author uses to provide perspectives on various facets of life and mindsets in that period, I did feel that a longer story was needed to do justice. The narrative of a few characters seemed to have been cut short purely for some kind of closure before the book ended, and the hasty conclusions sometimes worked against the hard work done thus far. But yet, it is quite a good read, especially because it is set in an era which is rarely talked about, or understood.

  • Six Suspects

    Vikas Swarup

    The second novel by Vikas Swarup, after Q&A, the book that now has a life of its own. Six Suspects worked essentially as a superb suspense thriller for me, but it is also a commentary on everything that happens in India – from militancy and racism to reality TV and call centres. Through six of the most stereotyped characters that you could ever find (okay, five), the author manages not only to create a gripping tale that shakes up the mix every time you think you have cracked the mystery in your head, but also manages to share a perspective on many of the things that makes news and even the probable behind-the-scenes machinations. All delivered not in a preachy tone that one would expect when such topics are involved, but the most amazing wit and sense of humour I have read in recent times.

    Right from the time the author shares a brief history of Vicky Rai, the ‘victim’, and in three paragraphs narrates the deeds that brought India’s sense of justice into the spotlight, I was hooked. He then proceeds to set up the suspects – the bureaucrat who is yet to get over his loss of power, the actress who tries hard to maintain her image and reputation and not mention Nietzsche in conversations, the tribal who seemed to be the only non-stereotype and displays a sense of deep rooted compassion and understanding that humanity seems to have lost, the mobile thief who lives out the Bollywood cliche, the politician who will go to any lengths for power, and the American, whose tale – right from his name, Larry Page – is such a bizarre laugh riot that it deserves a sequel!

    The story lines develop independently, but with clear connections that add to the intrigue. The politician’s spiritual advisor, the actress’ man Friday, the underworld’s ransom kidnaps, the honest cop, the Bhopal gas tragedy and its victims, Pakistani militants, naked sadhus in Prayag, and even the Indian American university grad, all cliches that add volumes to the narrative. But the real craft and genius is in how the stories and backstories are connected, and all the details are tallied. From the motive to the execution, every character, primary and secondary, and his/her action is accounted for, all while making us believe, for instance, that Gandhi’s spirit has entered a corrupt official!

    After all of this, the author takes us through the night itself and just as I thought that the climax itself was an anti, it turned out to be the setup for a riveting series of events that provides a deserving end to a fantastically written work of fiction. Must read.

  • Revolution 2020: Love, Corruption, Ambition

    Chetan Bhagat 

    As usual, Chetan Bhagat sucks the reader into the story from the first page. The narrator speaking to CB has become quite the signature prologue now, though he played it slightly differently in the last book.

    The overall concept of the book reminded me of several books/movies, and the one that came specifically to mind when I read the ‘summary’ on the jacket was Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi. That actually made me think of the author’s themes across his books. For me, the first three were unique because the story itself was new. (though FPS could be seen as a rendition of “poor hero – rich heroine – evil father” set in an IIT. But there was something refreshing enough in it for it to spawn a cottage industry) The last book seemed to be inspired by the author’s own life (it’s probably marketing) and to me, seemed like a nadir in the author’s imagination and storytelling capability. This one is a clawing back, and though the theme itself is jaded, CB manages to bring life into it with the storytelling. At least, it didn’t annoy me like 2 States.

    Gopal Mishra is a protagonist who you can easily root for, even as his ‘grey shades’ continue to darken as the book progresses. Despite being quite stereotypical, it’s probably this that holds the book together, as all the other characters are quite cardboard. The climax itself is quite predictable, especially if you’ve watched a typical love triangle in 80s/90s Bollywood. But the pace is relentless, and despite the predictability, the narrative was reasonably interesting to hold my attention.

    The mentions of CCD in every tenth page made me wonder if this is part of the author’s ‘special friend’ deal with the coffee chain. And that also made me wonder about the Taj and Ramada hotels as well. But hey, the book costs all of Rs.140 (maybe a hat tip to Twitter), I think that makes it all fair, even if the conjecture is true.

  • Caesar’s Women (Masters of Rome, #4)

    Colleen McCullough

    The fourth in the ‘Masters of Rome’ series, covering 10 years from 68-58 BC, chronicling the rise of Gaius Julius Caesar, with most of the narrative set in Rome itself. Despite being part of the book’s name, the first half of the book does not really focus on Caesar himself. Much of it is spent on building up the rest of the cast who would play an important role in Caesar’s life during this period – from his allies like Pompey the Great and Marcus Crassus to enemies like Cato and Bibulus, and even those who, in modern terminology could be called frenemies like Cicero and Clodius. However, the author remains true to the title by delving into the minds and lives of the various women who essay a key role in Caesar’s life – his mother Aurelia, his lover Servilia, his daughter Julia and even the non-influencer – his wife Pompeia, whom he later divorces – though to a minimal extent.

    Cicero, in this book, is shown in poor light, and the author does say in her notes that his peers didn’t think too much of him, as per the documentation available from that era. The other important character who makes an extended appearance is Brutus, originally betrothed to Caesar’s daughter Julia.

    It then follows Caesar’s political career covering his curule aedileship, his election as Pontifex Maximus, governorship of Further Spain and his first consulship. The book also highlights possibly the only chink in Caesar’s otherwise impenetrable armour – an indifference towards money – though he manages to learn his lessons in that respect towards the end of the book.

    The book not only chronicles how Caesar uses various tools, even marriage (his own as well as his daughter’s), to out-manoeuver his enemies and further his rise to prominence, but also manages to give a good idea of how Roman society functioned, in terms of culture, belief systems and hierarchy. It minimally shows Caesar’s military genius but quite elaborately showcases his political and legal brilliance, aided in no small measure by his mother Aurelia, and which culminates in the formation of the triumvirate with Marcus Licinius Crassus and Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus.

    The book sets quite a lively pace though it does require concentration to follow the various alliances that are made and broken at regular intervals. As in the previous books, and probably more so because of the new characters, the large secondary cast is not easy to follow. The final pages of the book point to a change in Caesar after his year as consul and sets the stage for the next book.