The Vine of Desire
To a frivolous reader, the story is simple. Two young girls grow up in a conservative woman-lead household, sharing their darkest secrets, deepest sorrows, greatest pleasures, and intense passions. As they grow up, the physical distance between them broadens, but emotionally, they are one – Soul Sisters. Lightening strikes, destiny makes its move, but the two women hold hands to see the other through the ocean of sorrows. This is where this book, which is a sequel to Sister of My Heart, begins.
The two cousins meet after years, expecting to feel the same warmth and affection for each other, that they felt as a child. But soon they realize that they were mistaken. Even their altruistic love could not be saved from the harsh realities of life. Do my words sound dramatic? Well, one cannot express a story written with so much passion in any other way.
Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni spins a complex web of human relationships. Her forte is giving words to human emotions – affection, sorrow, guilt, romance, passion, lust, compassion, jealousy – and making you a part of the character’s life in the process. She draws vibrant images with her sensual words.
While I read this book, I was in the cramped apartment in California. I went for the evening walks with Sudha and Dayita, took the bus to the University with Anju, and stared at Sunil’s computer screen. I was jealous of Lalit, when he swept Sudha off her feet, my heart broke into pieces when Anju saw lust for the other woman in her husband’s eyes, and I was filled with joy when Dayita napped by Sunil’s side. This is what Divakaruni does to you. She writes a lot, pages after pages describing a thought, a dream, a moment, but she captures the idea so beautifully that it affects the reader.
Her language is lyrical and vivid. Her knowledge of the two cultures, immaculate. Her understanding of the disarrays of human mind and heart, incredible. I think it is this very knowledge and understanding that limits the subjects that Divakaruni explores. She talks about what she knows best – a woman’s mind.
The Vine of Desire is a dazzling collection of feelings. Pick it up only if you want to plunge into an emotional whirlpool. Not a light read from any angle, clearly, this is not a book for one and all.
5/15/2005
The Sandman – Preludes & Nocturnes
The fact that you are reading this review allows me to make a safe assumption that you like reading books. Tell me, do you read graphic novels as well?
- Yes? Great!
- No? Ah…I urge you to read The Sandman by Neil Gaiman. And, after you are done reading it, answer my question again.
Gaiman’s story line for the first volume of The Sandman series is simple: A weird wizard in search of eternal life captures Dream – Death’s little brother. Dream spends many decades imprisoned in a glass bottle before escaping back to his Dream Land, which is now in ruins. Here begins Dream’s journey to find the three objects of power, to regain his strength that’ll enable him to rule the Dream Land again.
The author adds a lot of spice to this seemingly simple storyline by introducing Lucifer and other demons from hell (BTW, hell is being ruled in coalition), members of the old Justice League of America, and John Constantine! No need to say, this is a super-treat for any comic reader. Each character of the novel is equally fascinating, be it a writer who waits the tables to gather writing material for herself or the brothers, Cain and Abel. The surreal representation of dreams (or lack of them) of a common man, and the thin line of distinction between the world as we know it and as the King of Dreams sees it, is marvelously treated by Gaiman. However, the character that won my heart over was Dream’s, perky yet practical, big sister – Death. Goth girl at her best!
Gaiman’s brilliant story is well supported by Sam Keith’s illustration most of the time. I especially like the way he has done Dream in imagery, dark, deformed lines. Nevertheless, I’ve seen much better art. In some panels, the illustration actually hinders my reading the text. When the graphics overpower the story, I am slightly put off. But, don’t let this little thing hold you back from reading this graphic novel. I’ve a feeling that once you plunge into this Dream Land, you aren’t going back. So as Gaiman would say, Pleasant Dreams.
5/13/2005
Neither Here Nor There
Bill Bryson travels across Europe with a backpack, a journal, and a tight hold on his wallet. The journey (and the book) begins from Hammerfest, located in the far north of the continent, and ends in Istanbul, which is located on the cusp of Asia. The book combines scenic details of Rome, Copenhagen, Naples, Paris, Florence, Austria, among many others, with brief History as he knows it. This makes the Historical accounts a fun read as the author relates the historical facts with the present day’s boring-to-the-verge-of-being-funny events.
The book totally lacks glamor. Bryson stays in the cheapest hotels, travels by the most inexpensive mode, eats at local places, and hence, experiences the places in their true essence. He has no plans, no calendar exists for him. He buys a railway ticket to a city, gets himself a hotel room, roams the streets until he gets bored. Then, he moves on. If he catches a sight of something exciting like Northern Lights, he is tempted to stay longer, but mostly not. The author has a way of expressing the routine activities, such as buying a railway ticket, ordering food at a local restaurant, paying bills, and browsing sex shops (okay, this one is not really a routine activity for most of us!), in a very engrossing fashion. He has a passion for traveling and an acrid eye for details and this comes across beautifully in the book.
Bryson gives an unbiased but personal opinion on the culture of different places. He is not afraid of dissecting the popular myths about countries like Switzerland and Rome.
Neither Here Nor There is an extremely mirthful travelog that is mystical in some parts and extremely pragmatic in others. Bryson’s knack for blending picturesque descriptions of places with humorous anecdotes of mundane life of a small town is the lifeline of the book.
Don’t think of this book as a guide to Europe. If you are looking to learn about the culture or history of Europe, look someplace else. Here, you get entertainment. Three hundred pages of pure entertainment!
-Anupma Bakshi
5/12/2005
Batman:Broken City
Broken City is the story arch covering Batman #30-32 in the current Gotham Comics run, the last issue ending the story that turns the Dark Knight over to Brian Azzarello and Eduardo Risso, the writer/artist team behind the series 100 Bullets.
Because it is Risso, it is genuinely eye-pleasing, but the story is no great shakes. The plot about a murder investigation among new and old villians, meanders a lot and culminates in a sort of mayhem, all set to Bats’ voiceover musings—a hard-boiled noir like narration that seems forced after a while.
There are predictable replays of his parents’ murder all through the story, though the tough as nails Bats smoothly investigating through Gotham City are kind of fun. What is NOT fun is the Spider-man-ization of Batman. Gone is the loathing he had for the Gotham’s corrupt and gone is his dark brooding manner. He is all jokes and puns and being pally with the riff raff, albeit in a rough way, so’s to get some information.
Azzarello ignores Batman’s larger-than-life, brooding persona; he turns him into a sadistic vigilante. Risso’s art, however, as brilliant as in 100 bullets. The images are sharp and crisp, the page flow dynamic, and the pencil work is masterful, mirroring Tim Sale’s earlier work on the Dark Knight. This gives the book a very distinctive european flavor, rarely seen in mainstream DC.
The plot in itself, meanders, as well as confuses the reader a fair bit. But as any body who has read Azzarello’s work knows, he takes a long time talkin about something, but he delivers a sucker punch in the end. The end, however, is a bit of a let down here, the shocker only lasting a page or two, and offering no explanations.
To sum it up: Visually great, confusing to read, but worth it if you’ve ever thought Killer Croc was one dimensional.
5/9/2005
Tokyo Cancelled
A storm grounds their flight to Tokyo, and thirteen strangers are stranded overnight at an airport. The travelers huddle togeteher, and decide to spend the night telling each other stories. And so begins Rana Dasgupta’s first book, Tokyo Cancelled, where thirteen stories about lives in transit are told and linked together. This schemeis not exactly novel, being borrowed from Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. But Rana does more than give the classic format a modern flavor. He weaves his own post modern stories about lives uprooted, in transit, dislocated people.
All the stories are told ina aflavor best suited for their ethnicity and location. All the cities covered in the tales are modern, contemporary cosmopolitans and Rana views them through a dystopian eye and inserts his views on consumerism and present day commercialization in a sometimes witty and sometimes poignant manner.
A Ukrainian merchant is led by a wingless bird back to a lost lover; Robert De Niro’s son masters the transubstantiation of matter and turns it against his enemies; a man who manipulates other people’s memories has to confront his own past; a Japanese entrepreneur risks losing everything in his obsession with a doll; a mute Turkish girl is left alone in the house of a German man who is mapping the world.
The stories are largely fantasies told with huge dollops of didactic undertones and satire. They work sometimes, and not very often, fall flat. It is an experimantal project that fails to innovate, yet the stories linger. The project as a whole leaves an exotic flavor with you.
While I can not recommend this book to everyone, I personally liked a lot in the book; I look forward to Rana’s next outing, where he hopefully delivers a more uniform and decisive stroke.
