I have a reading list consisting of highly acclaimed work that failed to evoke any response in me on the first reading. It includes notably The Gulag Archipelago, Ulysses, The Clockwork Orange, Allen Ginsberg's Howl, Gravity's Rainbow among a number of others.
This morning, Anil's Ghost by Michael Ondaatje made it to my list too (I did not fare any better with his English Patient either). I am at page 118 and have not seen the point. There is beautiful language that catches the attention often. Ondaatje is a word-craftsman without doubt. Anil is fairly interesting as a character but not riveting. I feel mired by the technical details of her job.
The backdrop of Sri Lankan civil war is so strident that the story pales before it. If past a third of the book I don't begin to feel oneness with the narrative and the cast of characters the book has all but lost me.
What is more the "suggestion-of-incest" prop has already been used to lend that special aura. This has become the sub-continental writer's devise of choice and a done to death one at that. One glaring example of overkill that comes to mind is The Blue Bedspread by our very own Raj Kamal Jha.
Each addition to my "Later" list marks a disappointment because I know I will never have the time to revisit. Life does not typically allow such luxury.
An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no matter how flawed and imperfect. We have both spent over a decade outside India and have kids who were born abroad and have spent very little time back home. Returning "home" is something a lot of new immigrants like L and myself think about. We want very much for that to be an option because a full assimilation into our country of domicile is likely never going to happen. L has visited India more often than I have and has a much better pulse on what's going on there. For me the strongest drag force working against my desire to return home is my experience of life as a woman in India. I neither want to live that suffocatingly sheltered existence myself nor subject J to it. The freedom, independence and safety I have had in here in suburban America was not even something I knew I could expect to have in India. I never knew what it felt t...
Comments
It was 10 or 12 years ago that I started Ulysses...and could not get past the 10th page. I thought I would retry a month ago....the book has a very pretty bookmark at page 2 and has a thin layer of dust on it now....:-)))
Buck!! that does not sound like such a bad idea either!! Lollz!! do u ever pretend to discuss them?? ;-))
http://www.bway.net/~hunger/ulysses.html
(Ulysses for dummies:)!
all ur laters are my fondest... The Clockwork Orange, Gravity's Rainbow .....havent yet ?? get out of here:))
and reg ulysses im very notorious for that, i tell u its the worst:))
oh man u dint finish english patient? its my one of the favorite love stories...i wept like a child when i was reading it...
anyways theres always *the firm* to feel good:)
bottled-imp - Zen and the art of etc was not much fun for me. But I went ahead and read Leela too. Not much to write home about.
God of small things - lovely lyrical language but what's the point ?