A 2008 Man Booker Prize nomination , Amitav Ghosh’s eye-opening work of historical fiction touches upon many contemporary social issues.
Set in the pre-Independence, colonial Indian subcontinent, Sea of Poppies by decorated historian and author, Amitav Ghosh is the saga of a phenomenon. In the first installment of the Ibis trilogy, the narrative of the book traces the lives of a diverse set of characters, forced together into complex social set-ups by the opium trade of British colonies with China and a slave-carrying ship.
On the face of it, the book seems only to be characterised by a Dickensian cast and crew that includes an out-of-place American, an opium addict from China and a European girl who’s actually native; but, there is definitely a lot going on under the surface.The book has many unconventional, honest, and raw women characters who break moulds. There’s Deeti, the widow of an addicted opium farmer, who choses and fights for her freedom by marrying outside of her caste after her husband’s death. There’s Paulette, who decides to run away to Mauritius aboard a slave-ship to escape the dire realities of her life back home and there’s Muniya, a young albeit naive girl who wears her heart on her sleeve. These women not only reflect the verity of our sociological growth as a country but also exhibit a deep insight into the kind of lives that women of our land have had.
The book also delves into an exploration of the caste divide in both rural and urban India before Independence and also talks about the rigidity of the society. Panoramic and rich in satire, Ghosh’s writing expresses what we already know in a manner that is opaque yet atrocious. The story-telling is engrossing and well-punctuated by his masterful weaving of local dialects and colloquial slang into the narrative. Painstakingly detailed historical accounts from the 19th century that reflect deep philosophies of an economically strained and colonised nation make the book a delightful read and coerce you to discern the deeper consequences of the historical events of a two hundred year span of imperialism.
With an absolutely appropriate title, Sea of Poppies is a meaningful read for all those interested in historical fiction that provides a lens to look at our nation and society in the contemporary world.
With the announcement of the winner of this year’s Man Booker Prize due to be made at Guildhall, London tomorrow, we analyse all the six shortlisted books and their odds to win the coveted prize.
What makes a book, or as it goes, an author win the Man Booker? Is it writing which lives upto every parameter of greatness and only further enhances it, or is it a work of unconvention, taking by storm the entire idea of a great read? Or is it way beyond the two, and hence beyond any attempt of confinement to a definition? To these questions almost every literary analyst will have no singular answer. The Booker, right since its inception, has been notoriously unpredictable with its awardees, and not every winner has gone down well in literati circles globally. However, what remains unchallenged is the fame of the prize as one of the greatest prizes a writer can possibly get.
Six books this year contest for the Man Booker Prize and the 50,000 GBP that come with it. Almost every book is a groundbreaking text in literature, redefining in its own way the overall understanding of fiction. 4321 by Paul Auster is the story of Archie Ferguson. The four incarnations of his life have been splintered into four versions. A bildungsroman, the narrative takes the reader to four intriguing episodes of the protagonist’s business endeavours. The creme de la creme of this Paul Auster flagship is that the ambitious storyline does not add to the bulk but rather stand out separately, making it an engrossing read altogether.
Elmet is narrated from the perspective of Daniel, a 14-year-old boy. The struggle of his family to secure an existence in an elemental, this contemporary rural noir is steeped in the literature and legend of the Yorkshire landscape and its medieval history. What makes this novel by Fiona Mozley special is its graphical description and lyricism. The narrative is soft and deliberate, and the characters are implicitly complex yet relatable. On the whole, in spite of being mooted as a wild card entry in the list, the novel is one of the best reads among the fellow nominees.
Ali Smith’s Autumn is a masterpiece. As the name suggests, it is the first installment of a series of four, as Smith explores “What time is, how we experience it”. A relatively shorter text, the novel is beautiful cover to cover. The story is of a young girl, Elisabeth, and her relation with Daniel, an old man in his 90s, as Daniel introduces her to the world of art amidst the crisis of Brexit and her personal dilemmas. The depiction of emotions and longing of the characters are almost lifelike. The fear of death, agony, personal crisis, and alternate cycles of hope and despair entangle the reader with the characters and make them believe in the perpetuity of emotions on the face of fleeting time of our lives.
Exit West is a story of Saeed and Nadia, as they try and seek romance and existence in their war-torn city. They travel across places through this metaphysical door which connects cities. The personal crisis in the times of social dilemmas, and the inherent intricacies linked to immigration forms the narrative of this novel by Mohsin Hamid. An elegant, simple read, this has been one of the most popular reads this year.
History of Wolves by Emily Fridlund is the story of Linda, and her coming-of-age narrative centred around her school, neighbourhood, and the people around her. This novel is powerfully written, as the melancholy and sombre existence of characters reeks out of the pages, and the gloom transfers onto the reader. It would be safe to say that Emily Fridlund’s first novel could not have come better than this.
George Saunders’ genius, original, unnerving, and first full-length work, Lincoln in the Bardo, is everyone’s guess for this year’s winner. This is one strange story that the author had been nurturing for twenty years, researching and redrafting. As he tells in an interview, “I could feel that there was a beautiful book there but began to fear that it would have to be written by somebody else. The problem: I was not confident of my ability to express sincere human emotion straightforwardly, while maintaining the required (by me) stylistic verve. That is: I felt myself rickety around the expression of positive emotion.”
Based around the anecdote that Abraham Lincoln used to pay visit to this ghost-ridden cemetery where his son lay, the superlative treatment in this avant garde piece renders nothing less than an absolute masterpiece. Imaginative, unusual, and staggeringly well-researched, this novel is a journey to embark upon, and by far the best read of this year.
So yes, for the announcement that comes tomorrow, you can safely put your money on Lincoln in the Bardo, a novel class apart by one of the best authors of our times.
“Maybe there is a way to climb above everything, some special ladder or insight, some optical vantage point that allows a clear, unobstructed view of things. Maybe this way of seeing comes naturally to some people. Maybe if I’d been someone else I’d see it differently. But isn’t that the crux of the problem? Wouldn’t we all act differently if we were someone else?”
The crisis of coming-of-age identity and the adult world’s inherent debacle over thinking and doing forms the central motif in History of Wolves, the debut novel by Emily Fridlund and one of the six Man Booker Prize shortlisted novels of 2017. Quite certainly a more literally and thematically complex read compared to its competitors for the coveted prize, the initial storytelling and the ability of the author to paint detailed pictures even in an economy of words stands out while her inability to bring any substantial coherence to the plot devices disappoints.
The novel is narrated from the perspective of now adult, but primarily a socially outcast girl in Madeline Furston, also known as ‘Linda’ or ‘Freak’ or ‘Commie’ by her classmates. Her quest of self centres around her new neighbours in an otherwise secluded and disturbed upbringing in a lakeside commune in Northern Minnesota which later develops in her teenage experiences with her newly appointed history teacher Mr. Grierson and her classmate Lily. Throughout the text, the storyline traces its path notoriously meandering across time and space, expanding from her childhood days to her life as a grown-up adult leaving the reader with multiple interpretations of how things turn out to be.
Every page of the book is overpowering, leaving the reader with chills running down the spine and a feeling that something bad is going to happen. So powerful is the narration that an icy, soul-wrenching gust of air seems to blow throughout, and so grim is the dark and wintery portrayal of the geographical diameters of Linda and her school that the tale feels almost haunted. The treatment of the characters is powerful. Even for their grey underlined side which is always distinct, the reader is forced to sympathise with their paralysing loneliness, but the author invariably creates an emotional remoteness which prevents any emotion in a reader other than cold sympathy. That said, the remote plotline and the author’s inability to bring to a sensible closure the various parallel story strands leave the reader invariably dissatisfied and sad.
History of Wolves does not fail to retain the tension of the plot, making the readers frantically turn the pages and identify the scandalous restlessness building up in their hearts, but the disappointing coda makes the novel fall yards short of greatness. Nevertheless, the promising abilities which Fridlund exhibits in coming up with an atypical coming-of-age thriller and retaining an almost unfailing control over her diverse characters and expansive and parallel storylines is sure to establish her as one of the most promising authors of our time.
“Maybe there is a way to climb above everything, some special ladder or insight, some optical vantage point that allows a clear, unobstructed view of things. Maybe this way of seeing comes naturally to some people. Maybe if I’d been someone else I’d see it differently. But isn’t that the crux of the problem? Wouldn’t we all act differently if we were someone else?”
The crisis of coming-of-age identity and the adult world’s inherent debacle over thinking and doing forms the central motif in History of Wolves, the debut novel by Emily Fridlund and one of the six Booker Prize shortlisted novels of 2017. Quite certainly a more literally and thematically complex read compared to its competitors for the coveted prize, the initial storytelling and the ability of the author to paint detailed pictures even in an economy of words stand out while her inability to bring any substantial coherence to the plot devices disappoints.
The novel is narrated from the perspective of now adult, but primarily a socially outcast girl in Madeline Furston, (also known as ‘Linda’ or ‘Freak’ or ‘Commie’ by her classmates). Her quest of self-centers around her new neighbours in an otherwise secluded and disturbed upbringing in a lakeside commune in Northern Minnesota which later develops in her teenage experiences with her newly appointed history teacher Mr. Grierson and her classmate Lily. Throughout the text the storyline traces its path notoriously meandering across the time and space, expanding from her childhood days to her life as a grown-up adult leaving the reader with multiple interpretations of how the things turn out to be.
Every page of the book seems overpowered with a chill running down the spine, and a feeling that something bad is going to happen. So powerful is the narration that an icy, soul-wrenching gust of air seems to blow throughout, and so grim is the dark and wintery portrayal of the geographical diameters of Linda and her school that the tale looks almost haunted. The treatment of the characters is powerful. Even for their grey underlined side which is always distinct, the reader is forced to sympathise with their paralysing loneliness, but the author invariably creates an emotional remoteness which prevents any other emotion in a reader than cold sympathy. That told of the remote plotline and the author’s inability to bring to a sensible closure the various parallel story strands strikeout, the reader left invariably dissatisfied, and sad.
History of Wolves does not fail to retain the tension of the plot, making the reader frantically turn the pages and identify the scandalous restlessness building up in their hearts, but the disappointing coda makes the novel fall yards short of greatness. Nevertheless, the promising abilities which Mrs. Fridlund exhibits in coming up with an atypical coming of age thriller and retaining an almost unfailing control over her diverse characters and expansive and parallel storylines are sure to establish her as one of the most promising authors of our time.
