Tuesday, April 7, 2009

The God Of Small Things- A Book Review

During this warm summer months it is always nice to find time to just soak up the sun. Some of us have been out to the beach already, went on pool parties, and enjoyed bonding time with family at a resort. There are a lot of fun things to do during summer, and I hope you will include reading a fine book while you have your cocktails by the beach.


The summer this year came in a little early and the heat as well is warmer. Yes I admit that I can’t stand the heat and do spend most of my time either in any air conditioned room, or just sit back at my mama’s garden reading a book. The warm heat inspired me to look for a book suitable for this occasion. I wanted to find a book where the climate helps define its people and its culture. A book where everything takes place in complete beauty and is exotic. A story where it all took place in India. Why India? Because nothing compares to it. No place is as warm and yet so wet, where people are molded through ancient religion and mysticism. Where devotion is defined by culture. Where fragrant spices and colorful saris are abundant. Where the rich Maharajas live excessively and the poor paravans roam. India is a place of extremes and I was determine to look for a book where it all happens in this exotic country.


“The God of Small Things” by Arundhati Roy, winner of the Booker Prize is the perfect story which took place in Kerala, India. I wasn’t picking any book just for the sake of the plot. I needed to get a book where it will take me to India itself. And this book, through its pages brings so much color and life to the country as much as it tragically wrote the lives of the people involved. Twins to be exact. Estha and Rahel whose live changes dramtically in one day. A tragic story on how their lives are torn away from them through the slow decline of their family, of a forbidden love. On how they lost their innocence and on the beauty of life at a very young age and on how it shaped and affected them as adults.


The novel is once again beautifully written, it gives so much color and life to characters as much as it gives to the plot. The story is unique bringing you back and forth, past to present, connecting each dot to the other. A puzzle full of pickles, of Katakali artists, of a river where readers want to complete eagerly.

I end this book review with the first paragraph of the novel where it will take you away to exotic India and bringing you to this tragic story;

“May in Ayemenem is a hot, brooding month. The days are long and humid. The river shrinks and black crows gorge on the bright mangoes in still, dustgreen tress. Red bananas ripen. Jackfruit burst. Dissolute bluebottles hum vacuously in the fruity air. Then they stun themselves against clear windowpanes and die, fatly baffled in the sun.”

M.
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