Life Wordsmith - Book Reviews, Poems & more...

Under the Udala Trees: Chinelo Okparanta

2015-10-26T21:42:00.000+05:30

Stop reading whatever you reading now. Keep it aside. Leave it for now. Because the Book of the Year has arrived. Breathtaking in scope, flawless in execution, and brimming with lyrical passion, Under the Udala Trees is a masterpiece.

Those who know me know that one of my all-time favorite writers is Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. She writes of a Nigerian soul in words that I wish I can conjure myself. If I ever meet her, I know I would be reduced to a quacking duck, unable to express the awe and respect her writing inspires me. Now, I have just finished reading Chinelo Okparanta, and I know that I would also be a quaking duck in her presence. Under the Udala Trees is at once a look at Nigeria, starting from the Biafran War that tore the country apart in the 1960s, and also at heart a deep story of love and yearning. It's about the relationships that define and the choices we make. It's moving. It's human. It's filled with emotion. I can't remember a sentence that was out of place. Or even a word that didn't belong. It's simply a story. A beautiful story complex with love, life, and the inexorable passage of time. One that will stay with you long after you finish the last page.

Am I extolling this book too much? No! I feel I traveled to Nigeria, sat on the branches of the udala trees, and savored yam, while seeing luscious guava trees in front of my house. If words were pictures, then Okparanta has weaved an entire cinematic experience. How many books can do that to me? Considering that the previous book before I picked this one up was Margaret Atwood's The Heart Goes Last, Okparanta outshined one of the greatest writers of this century. What's the story, you may ask? Think Civil War. Think Despair. Death. Love. Life. All the scavengers of hope that war brings with it. Think young Ijeoma and her mother trying to resurrect life from the embers of the war. Symbolic that Ijeoma means "journey" in Igbo. On her journey through life, Ijeoma is left behind while her mother tries to return to her parent's house to rebuild their future. Staying with the unnamed "grammar school teacher and his wife," Ijeoma takes the first tentative steps to love. And falls in love with a girl. In deeply conservative Nigeria, which is the second-most religious country in the world, that is a crime. Death by stoning, even. The story then follows her as Ijeoma grapples with her feelings and her often chaotic relationship with her Bible-toting mother. Religious themes are often interspersed in their arguments.

"E’li, E’li, la’ma sab ach tha’ni? My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Ijeoma asks at one point in despair. And as I read through the novel at 1AM on a Sunday night, despite knowing that work awaits me tomorrow, I knew that I wanted to know the answer. Does the answer lie in Ijeoma's surrender to society by marrying a "good decent man?" Will her choice, however logical it may be, define her life? That's the journey that the book invites you to take. I haven't traveled to a better place this year.

Verdict: Masterpiece.

Rating: 5/5

Blankets: Craig Thompson

2015-10-21T04:12:00.001+05:30

I read a graphic novel after what seems like ages. I think the last one I read was, strangely enough, Craig Thompson’s“Habibi.” I say strangely because am reviewing one of his earlier graphic novels named “Blankets,” in today’s post. As always, first a summary of the book below, partially from GoodReads:

Wrapped in the landscape of a blustery Wisconsin winter, Blankets explores the sibling rivalry of two brothers growing up in the isolated country, and the budding romance of two coming-of-age lovers. A tale of security and discovery, of playfulness and tragedy, of a fall from grace and the origins of faith. Blankets is an autobiographical account of Thompson’s childhood, and teen years. It chronicles his dreams, thoughts, beliefs, and relationships till the time he reaches adulthood. It was voted as one of TIME Magazine’s top 100 Best Young Adult Books of All Time in 2012.

I had forgotten the joys of reading a nice graphic novel. To me, a good one combines ease of reading with a good pace, and a good story. Thompson’s novel has all of this and more, making it an arresting page-turner. Beginning with his childhood in snowy, windblown Wisconsin, where he lives with his parents and little brother, Thompson takes us through different stages in his life, and the various relationships that surround him. Right at the beginning, we learn that his family is devout Christian, and has instilled in him a deep faith in the concepts of heaven, hell, and sin. Thompson portrays himself as a vulnerable, quiet, and shy individual who is torn between his own thoughts, and the ones that he grows up with. He also has a strong sense of guilt and wrongdoing, which surfaces time to time, for even the smallest of things.

“I’m sorry, God, for sneaking out of the cabin and lying and not reading the Bible and not witnessing to people and picking on my little brother and calling someone “ASS” and drawing a lady without any clothes on that one time and disappointing my parents and everything else.”

All normal things that boys do but Craig is wrought with guilt.

After a while he meets Raina at church camp. Their feelings of alienation, and that of being “different” are mutual, and they are quickly drawn to each other. A flurry of correspondences later, Craig gets to stay with Raina for a few weeks. Within the space of those weeks, Craig and Raina grow incredibly close. They develop feelings for each other, experience the blush of first love, and all the sweet, adorable things that follow. But it’s not long before they drift apart. Life after that moves fast as Craig leaves his home, and goes to university.

“Blankets” is all about relationships. Ones with the people who stay around all our lives, and the ones that are non-existent but nevertheless exist with their absence. In the first category goes siblings, friends, parents, first loves, and above all, with oneself. In the second category goes acquaintances, friends we separated from, lovers we parted with, and bullies we hated, to name some. All of these people contributed in some way to make us what we are. Craig is close enough to his parents, but he is closest to his younger brother. Like all siblings, they fight, but deeply care for each other. They drift apart in the middle but easily spark up their connection when they share some quality moments after a long time. During the time Craig stays with Raina, we see her love and care for her siblings. While she is willing to take care of her elder sister’s baby anytime, she also attends to every need of her adopted brother and sister, both of whom are mentally ill. But what I loved was how Craig develops a deeper connect with himself through the book. All through, he goes by the teaching of the Bible, which is so ingrained in him. But as he grows up, he realizes that his beliefs are different, and he begins to question the things around him. Towards the end, Craig is freed from himself. I thought this gradual transformation was marvelously done.

Families are tight knit, and very Christian, in Thompson’s novel. Although Raina’s parents are going through a divorce her father is confident that he is only “living in a one bedroom apartment... temporarily.”

Maybe it’s this closeness that Thompson wishes to convey through the imagery of blankets. It is a recurring theme, in the book, signifying the complex threads that knit people together. The book opens with Craig and Phil sharing a bed as kids, and fighting for the blanket. Raina gifts Craig a quilt, and the snow forms an all-encompassing blanket at all times.

And, of course, the illustrations. Rich. Beautiful. Expressive. Blankets has sketches that speak more than words. Many pages have such exquisite detail, not unlike “Habibi,” that it requires a second reading to notice all of it. Sample some of these:

“Blankets” is not a graphic novel that you can get your arms around the first time. Revisit it. For the poetry of the artwork, and the fluency of unsaid words.

Verdict: Beautiful

Rating: 4.8/5

The Girl In The Spider's Web: David Lagercrantz

2015-09-06T17:38:00.002+05:30

I think even a million dollars would not persuade me to be in David Lagercrantz's shoes. It takes guts to write. It takes even more guts to write a sequel to some enduring bestsellers. If Stieg Larsson's partner Eva Gabrielsson is to be believed, the book is just a copycat that is trying very hard to cash in on the fame of the Millenium Trilogy. Greed is what she would have called it. As it is Eva says that she would not read the book. "I read original writers, not people who copy other people's books, so to say. So I won't read it." For those who have been following the saga closely, Eva has been locked in a settlement dispute over the Larsson estate. And she has been especially critical of David Lagercrantz, something that the author himself is aware of.

Who is David Lagercrantz? He is best known in Sweden for having written Zlatan Ibrahimović's biography Í Am Zlatan'. I had read all of Stieg Larsson's Millenium series, despite me not usually falling to hype. I still haven't read any of the Grey books, in case you are thinking I have fallen for that hype too. But like most readers, I came back with one character etched in my mind - Lisbeth Salander. The cocky, brimming-with-attitude girl with a strong moral core and a terrible sensitivity to injustice. Who can forget her? We need characters like her. It's no surprise then that Lagercrantz aims to build on that character. Heck, the book is called a Lisbeth Salander novel!

In keeping with the Millenium trilogy, The Girl In The Spider's Web has all the usual trappings of drama. But with a twist. We are invited into the 21st century world of industrial espionage and high level hacking. The NSA and Sapo are in action again. We have a peek into the world that awaits us in the future called Artificial Intelligence. We also have the same thread of violence against women. And we have Lisbeth somehow doing what she does best - swooping in when there are bullets and punching, kicking, and shooting her way through. Did I mention that Mikael Blomkvist exists? He does. But here the focus is all Lisbeth. Blomkvist is the sideshow here. The journalist who is in the right place at the wrong time. I am not sure what he really does in the novel apart from that, but by then you don't care. You know who you are rooting for. Like the good old Marvel comics, we need our superhero. Lisbeth is one.

So, should you read this book? I would say, why not? It moves fast. I finished it in a day. There are a number of quirky characters introduced. August, an autistic savant, is by the next best character after Lisbeth in the book. The plot does not sag even though I was kind of wondering if artificial intelligence is worth all the killing and mayhem. I wished there was a bit more of a relationship set with Lisbeth. She doesn't seem to exist to talk to anyone except August and his mother in one classic speech. You know the ending is predictable. There is no great build-up. No whodunits. You know who the killer is. The rest of the book is just tracking them down. You won't waste your time. And while it is no Stieg Larrson, not even Lagercrantz, I am sure wants it to be so. This is a very good Lagercrantz novel with an iconic heroine. For that alone, I read it.

Rating: 3/5

Go Set a Watchman: Harper Lee

2015-09-04T17:00:00.003+05:30

In the past few months, if there has been one book that has been unequivocally talked about, torn apart and compared, it’s “Go Set a Watchman” by Harper Lee. I was curious. I finally managed to read it. Here is a brief summary, an extract from the Harper Collins website, before I go into the review:

Maycomb, Alabama. Twenty-six-year-old Jean Louise Finch—"Scout"—returns home from New York City to visit her aging father, Atticus. Set against the backdrop of the civil rights tensions and political turmoil that were transforming the South, Jean Louise's homecoming turns bittersweet when she learns disturbing truths about her close-knit family, the town, and the people dearest to her. Memories from her childhood flood back, and her values and assumptions are thrown into doubt. Featuring many of the iconic characters from To Kill a Mockingbird, Go Set a Watchman perfectly captures a young woman, and a world, in painful yet necessary transition out of the illusions of the past—a journey that can only be guided by one's own conscience.

Almost all the reviews I have read have compared this book to Lee’s award winning book, “To Kill a Mockingbird.” Although inevitable and irresistible, I find this unfair. Harper Lee wrote these two books at two different points in her life and I feel each book deserves to be seen in its own light before going into comparisons. Luckily for me, I read “To Kill…” a long time ago and I deliberately did not refresh my memory prior to reading “…Watchman.”

When I began reading “Go Set a Watchman.” I was reminded of Kathryn Stockett’s “The Help.” Just like the young protagonist in Stockett’s book, we have Jean Louise coming to her father’s place for a two week break from New York. But the comparison ends there. We don’t know what Jean Louise does in New York nor do we have her mentioning any place or person from the city. Her mind is filled with memories of Maycomb and the slow realization that the town has changed from what she knew of it during her childhood.

In only two days, events that happen cause her to feel a sense of loss –

“Why is it that everything I have ever loved on this earth has gone away from me in two days’ time?”

When Calpurnia’s grandson runs over Mr. Healy in his car, Atticus is ready to take on the case. This is where we first get a hint of Atticus’ underlying motives for supporting blacks. He wants to prevent the case from falling into the “wrong hands,” by which he means coloured lawyers. He justifies by saying that the black lawyers who are in the state wait for a crime committed by a black man against the whites, and then “they demand Negroes on the juries in such cases. They subpoena the jury commissioners, they ask the judge to step down, they raise every legal trick in their books…”

This apart, Jean Louise discovers there’s more to Atticus in the coming days when she attends a City Council meeting. She is so shocked by what she sees there that she feels physically sick. What follows is heated arguments with Atticus and his brother Dr Finch, who tries to make her understand that living in Maycomb requires certain attitudinal adjustments.

Jean Louise’s argument with Atticus reveals shades to the aging lawyer that weren’t apparent before. Atticus was the demi-god, someone who was,

“…unique in the history of the county; no machines opposed Atticus Finch, no machines supported him, and no one ran against him.”

He was always right, just and different. Until now. In this book, we see an Atticus who is human, has the same approach to society as many of us, and is trying to create a balance between his innate sense of justice and his place in society. But in reaching this balance, he makes statements that paint him as a racist, like,

“Do you want your children going to a school that’s been dragged down to accommodate Negro children?”

and

“What would happen if all the Negroes in the South were suddenly given full civil rights?”

But is he really? If we see what he says in the same breath, I would not jump to conclusions–

“Would you want your state governments run by people who don’t know how to run ‘em? ... Zeebo’d probably be Mayor of Maycomb. Would you want someone of Zeebo’s capability to handle the town’s money?”

Isn’t there a grain of truth in what he is pointing out? In India, we have politicians who haven’t even graduated and who come from poor, agricultural families. Yet, they have rights and they are definitely part of the society as it should be. But do they have the capability to run the government? I wouldn’t think so. It’s again, a vicious circle. Because they were in rural areas, they did not receive much education and they were never considered part of mainstream society. But now they have more opportunities, and they want to exploit them. Similarly, the blacks are now in a position to command and they are making use of it. It’s a fine line. People like Atticus will help them individually but will work with the system for the greater good of the society. Just like the unique neutrality of his character, he is neither for nor against them.

Emotionally charged reminiscences form a large part of the book along with heated political debates, and the ending fizzles out with the largely vague discussion between Jean Louise and Dr Finch. In the end, we are made to understand that Jean Louise has come round to understanding the situation, and has gained a certain level of maturity. Atticus is her role model again and all’s right with the world.

I would read the book once. It might not have the power to merit multiple readings like Lee’s previous book but it does have more depth in some of its discussions. Let me be like Atticus, though. I am neither disappointed nor enamoured by “Go Set a Watchman.”

Verdict: Definitely worth a read

Rating: 3.4/5

Versedays: Sydney and the Bush

2015-07-16T03:41:00.001+05:30

Missed Versedays last week. So easy to get caught up with life and forget these little pleasures. So I spent some more time this week searching for good poetry and stumbled upon the genre of Australian bush poetry. Stemming from oral traditions in the vast Australian bushland, this genre gained prominence with the advent of colonisation. Highlighting the origins of the Australian people and importance of the bushland in this aspect, bush poetry today is recognised officially and even boasts of the Australian Bush Poets Association.

For today's poem, I chose "Sydney and the Bush" by one of the most acclaimed bush poets, Les Murray. In my limited understanding, the poem addresses the effects of colonisation and the subsequent loss of character of the nation. I found a really nice reading of the poem by Renee and thought that would be more helpful to you in understanding the poem better. Enjoy reading!

Sydney And The Bush

by Les Murray

When Sydney and the Bush first met
there was no open ground
and men and girls, in chains and not,
all made an urgent sound.

Then convicts bled and warders bred,
the Bush went back and back,
the men of Fire and of Earth
became White men and Black.

When Sydney ordered lavish books
and warmed her feet with coal
the Bush came skylarking to town
and gave poor folk a soul.

Then bushmen sank and factories rose
and warders set the tone —
the Bush in quarter-acre blocks
helped families hold their own.

When Sydney and the Bush meet now
there is antipathy
and fashionable suburbs float
at night, far out to sea.

When Sydney rules without the Bush
she is a warders' shop
with heavy dancing overhead
the music will not stop

and when the drummers want a laugh
Australians are sent up.
When Sydney and the Bush meet now
there is no common ground.

The Peculiar Life of a Lonely Postman: Denis Theriault

2015-07-11T21:28:00.002+05:30

Image courtesy: Hesperus Press

I picked up “The Peculiar Life of a Lonely Postman” by Denis Theriault based on the recommendation of a friend. I am glad I did because I thoroughly enjoyed reading Bilodo the postman’s story.

Theriault’s tale reminds me of some of the fantastical Russian short stories like Gogol’s “The Nose.” Realism and poetry mixed with a dash of the imaginary. It begins innocently enough, with Bilodo delivering mail and leading quite the ordinary life. He has a routine – deliver post, eat lunch at the Madelinot, deliver post, go home, watch TV and eat dinner. But afterwards was what Bilodo really looked forward to. Indulging in his “secret vice.” Reading other people’s letters.

Bilodo’s life was enriched by following the stories that flew back and forth in these letters. There were “… letters from beer tasters comparing notes, from globetrotters writing to their mothers…overly reassuring letters servicemen dispatched from Afghanistan to their anxious wives…”

But it was the love letters that caught his fancy in particular. He even made a photocopy for his records and would keep them to reread over and over. It was one such letter that turned Bilodo’s life upside down.

Bilodo is instantly fascinated by Segolene’s intelligent haikus addressed to Grandpre, a poet. And then one day Grandpre dies in a terrible accident. Segolene sends him letter after letter enquiring about the long silence. That’s when Bilodo decides to take matters into his own hands. He impersonates Grandpre and begins a long correspondence with Segolene, which takes him to the world of haikus, Japan and calligraphy.

I absolutely loved the luminous and needless to say, poetic nature, of this book. Magical realism combined with the seductive fragrance of a romance that increasingly becomes more passionate keeps you turning pages. And the haikus. Some of them were simply brilliant. Segolene’s have a lush and luscious quality to them while Bilodo’s are more straightforward with a clear thought. Here are a couple of my favourites:

A hammering in the streets

Shutters are nailed down

The cyclone draws near

Nighttime out at sea

The shark yawns indolently,

Munches a moonfish

You can almost smell the rain in the first one and you can hear the waves in the sea in the second one. Even the prose is as evocative.

“Still the cursed loop. The serpent bit its tail. Time cannibalized itself.”

I particularly liked the way Theriault shows Bilodo’s transformation. He comes alive, slipping completely into Grandpre’s skin, and immersing himself in Japan and poetry. It’s interesting to see how on one hand he gains control of haikus and loses control over himself on the other. As he grows closer to Segolene he goes farther away from reality.

Theriault’s words are like dancing lights skimming the page. They glide over you and you can’t stop turning till you reach the last page. I generally don’t wax poetic in reviews but this one deserves it. Playful, masterful, emotional and with just a hint of the lugubrious, this is a beautiful, little novelette to be savoured.

Verdict: One for the collection

Rating: 4.8/5

Salted Biscuits: Jasper Daniel

2015-07-10T18:00:00.000+05:30

For the longest time, I had put off reading this book because of time constraints. When I finally began reading it, I didn’t realize the time pass. Combining humor and dark thoughts through vignette like short stories, poetry, and illustrations, “Salted Biscuits” by Jasper Daniel is a mixed bag of thoughts.

There is a strong personal flavor in the book in terms of religion, relationships and experiences. Some of the short stories reminded me of haikus. The depiction of a scene or a moment in vivid words that remains with you for a while even after you finish reading. Like “The Timekeeper.” This is a short narration of a man who timed the number of times his wife had to feed their baby by winding a clock on a table in their home. Although barely a page long, the story is chillingly effective.

“Traces” is another example of a prosaic haiku, which projects strong imagery through a few words.

“The forensic experts came this morning with their dusters, blades and little poly bags. Thy searched what was left of his heart, and found traces of sympathy carelessly scattered around its chambers, by the sweet maid who made his bed every morning.”

How evocative. To think of people coming with dusters to clean away pieces of a broken heart.

I liked “Summer” as well. It reminded me of my own summers spent in the sun, enjoying the dirt and grime associated with it.

“Television was for older people. We watched flat stones skip on water and counted how many times they hopped.”

Indeed. Television used to be for older people while, we, children used to play with sticks and stones. I too “think of Summer when she was a friend.”

One of my favourite “haikus” from this collection has to be “My Direction.” Punning on his wife Disha’s name, Jasper says,

“I asked God

To show me the direction.

He got me married to one.”

There were, of course, parts that I didn’t understand or completely comprehend. I am sure a second reading might be beneficial to achieve a different perspective.

I am keeping this review short and sweet, just like Jasper Daniel’s small, little slices of life. Thanks to Disha for sending us this book for review!

Verdict: Read this for a break from the ordinary

Rating: 3.7/5

Versedays: Make the Ordinary Come Alive

2015-06-25T01:57:00.000+05:30

I was browsing the net looking for something inspired me to write a blog post for a content writing project am working on. Something extraordinary, something different that would trigger those thoughts and get the pen flowing. How ironic then that I should come across this poem called "Make the Ordinary Come Alive," by William Martin. A modern reinterpretation of some aspects of the ancient classic the Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu, Martin addresses parenthood through verse.

The reason I selected this particular poem is because I felt everyone, not just children, can try to follow what the author has said. There is no great philosophy. The thoughts are what we have all thought a million times. But he puts it in a beautiful manner that made me read it a few times. Hope all of you enjoy it as much as I did!

Make the Ordinary Come Alive

William Martin

Do not ask your children
to strive for extraordinary lives.
Such striving may seem admirable,
but it is a way of foolishness.
Help them instead to find the wonder
and the marvel of an ordinary life.
Show them the joy of tasting
tomatoes, apples, and pears.
Show them how to cry
when pets and people die.
Show them the infinite pleasure
in the touch of a hand.
And make the ordinary come alive for them.
The extraordinary will take care of itself.

Versedays: Summer Rain by Amy Lowell

2015-06-11T15:36:00.000+05:30

The rains are a constant presence in South India. Sometimes I feel there is no season for them. It can rain anytime. I love watching the rain pouring down, as many of us I suppose, creating muddy little rivulets on the road, and making the leaves look fresh and green.

And that's how I thought this week's poem should be Amy Lowell's "Summer Rain," to denote the rain that occurs at the edge of summer. Lowell was an American poet who posthumously won a Pulitzer Prize for her collection of poems named "What's O'Clock." She was highly influenced by the Imagist movement, which is evident in today's poem, in its vivid imagery making the scene come alive. Lowell's lifelong relationship with actress Ada Dwyer Russell has been the primary subject of discussion in most articles on her, with Russell being described as friend and lover alternatively. Whatever it was, biographer Richard Benvenuto has pointed out that Lowell's "great creative output between 1914 and 1925 would not have been possible without her friend's steadying, supporting presence."

Hope you enjoy reading today's poem!

Summer Rain

Amy Lowell

All night our room was outer-walled with rain.
Drops fell and flattened on the tin roof,
And rang like little disks of metal.
Ping!—Ping!—and there was not a pin-point of silence between them.
The rain rattled and clashed,
And the slats of the shutters danced and glittered.
But to me the darkness was red-gold and crocus-coloured
With your brightness,
And the words you whispered to me
Sprang up and flamed—orange torches against the rain.
Torches against the wall of cool, silver rain!

Movie Review: Evil

2015-06-07T00:20:00.000+05:30

Image Credit: IMDB

I discovered two things tonight. One, that Evil or Ondskan is one of the best movies ever made. And two, that Andreas Wilson, who plays Erik in Evil is also one of the most good-looking men ever made. This movie was on my wishlist for a while, but it took today for me to watch it. I think I was partly petrified because I thought it might turn out to be some kind of gory horror flick on the nature of evil, but nothing could be further from the truth while being close to it.

Image : IMDB

Evil is horror. The horror of depravity that human beings can sink to. But at it's heart, and here I go, becoming cliched again, is a story of redemption and courage. Add that gooey Andreas Wilson to that mix, this makes a wonderful and compelling movie indeed. We see at the beginning of the movie that Erik is expelled from his school for fighting. He has a tempestuous relationship with his stepfather who canes him for the smallest altercations. His mother sells some of her family heirlooms to give Erik one last chance to graduate from a prestigious boarding school. It's Erik's brooding presence that captivates you from the beginning. At Stjärnsberg, Erik decides that there is too much stake and resolves to not pick a fight and get himself expelled. But he is immediately picked on by the seniors. At the school, there is a system of kamratuppfostran" ("schoolmate upbringing"). It's supposed to keep the school orderly, but Erik will follow rules, but not succumb to humiliation. It's here that the drama of the movie reaches its highest point. It's a cat and mouse game where the two members of the school council, Otto Silverhielm and Gustaf Dahlén push Erik to the limit, and you can only watch in frustration as Erik refuses. You know that the thread is going to break, and you watch the movie sitting on the edge of your seat as it becomes taut, then frail, and then...no, I won't tell you.

To me, the rest of the movie is not about fighting back. It's not about knowing that the fight lies in not fighting. It's not about the friendship between Erik and Pierre. It's not the slow blossom love between Erik and the nurse Marja (forbidden at the school). But the movie was just an exploration on the nature of the human psyche. Why was I waiting for Erik to lash out? To turn on his perpetrators? Who is truly evil? Was it Erik? He is shown earlier in the movie violently beating a boy. Is it his step father? Or is evil the bullies at the school? Or is it you? Because you are waiting for the thread to snap? Compelling drama such as this, I believe, deserves more than a 68% score on Rotten Tomatoes.

Watch this movie. I would do so again.

Lifeometer: Ooooh la la. Just movie watching heaven. Even if I sound like a teenager in saying so.

Movie Review: Stand By Me

2015-06-06T12:48:00.000+05:30

There is something about movies made decades ago, isn't there? Stand By Me reminds me of that old song by Ben E King, and the many versions that followed that all-time classic.

Stand By Me has just the right nuances of friendship, a journey, and life lessons to make you watch it with a feeling of nostalgia. The movie is based on the story "The Body" in Stephen King's 1982 collection, Different Seasons. There are no screaming guns. Just a bunch of kids as they take their own little road trip of a lifetime, in the process uncovering some truths about themselves, and the meaning of friendship. Narrated by Gordie (Will Wheaton) after the death of a friend, he talks of how he and his 3 other friends who at the age of 12 go in search of the dead body of a boy presumed missing. That makes you think the story has a dark or sinister element to it. But it is not. The boys, Gordie, Vern, Chris, and Teddy come from a little town called Castle Rock. Each of them have a troubled family life. Gordie and Chris share a closer bond in the movie. Lying to their parents, they set off on a day long hike into the woods to discover the Brower kid's body. All four of them have easily identifiable personalities. Gordie is the serious writer with an air of melancholy about him. Vern is the 'fat' one who is always the target of their jokes. Teddy has an ear burned off by his father, who the town says is in the 'loony bin,' and Chris is the one who you would want as a friend - the one who stands by you. Always. And believes in you.

As they make their way through the woods, they learn that danger lurks on the tracks. They evade trains that come screaming through them - and always, someone is there to help the other out of a potentially life-threatening situation. To me, these are the precious little episodes that mean the most to me. It might seem like a series of capers from boys who should know better. But each scene in this movie is rich with nuanced meaning. Rich with messages. And possibilities and discovery. From fighting off leeches to angry men with dogs, they stick together. Yes, that does sound cheesy. But what's wrong with cheese? It's not unrealistic. It's just a little snapshot of life. Maybe not as we know it, but no one said movies have to stay true to what we go through.

Lifeometer: Up, up, and away.

You can buy the DVD at Stand by Me

In The Mood For Love

2015-05-31T20:43:00.001+05:30

The rain outside. Thunder. Sparkles of rain you can hear. And as you watch on the screen, Maggie Cheung's evocative face dissolves into a hundred emotions. In The Mood For Love is a masterpiece. It's in the list of Empire Online's greatest 100 movies ever.

I started watching this movie on Saturday. It wasn't raining then. And I finished watching it now, on a Sunday. Stretching to a little more than 2 hours, the movie feels like 4 hours. I don't watch run-of-the-mill movies. I watch a lot of movies that may be called 'art-house' or offbeat or non-mainstream or whatever it may be called. I have come across a lot of beautiful movies because of this openness. I was fascinated by In The Mood For Love because it had an Asian and more so, a Chinese connection. But just like Amour, this will be one of those movies that is rendered beautifully on screen, capturing all the nuances of emotions in an understated and subtle way. But it is a movie that will put me to sleep.

Here's what IMDB describes:

Two neighbors, a woman and a man, form a strong bond after both suspect extramarital activities of their spouses. However, they agree to keep their bond platonic so as not to commit similar wrongs.

The key thing here *spoiler alert* is that they suspect their spouses of having an affair with each other. Drawn by this strange bond, Chow Mo-wan (Tony Leung) and Su Li-zhen (Maggie Cheung) form a platonic friendship that belies the strong tension and intimacy between them. While that tension is beautifully captured, their spouses are never portrayed. Only their voices. Their noisy and nosy neighbors form the only lively part of the movie.

So what happens? Leung and Cheung exchange glances. Have dinners in restaurants. Stand next to each other in pouring rain. Pass each other by on their way to buy noodles. And Cheung helps Leung to write a series on manga.

We watch them feel. And I feel for them. Feel for watching such excruciating beauty in such slowness. Mistake me not. The film is beautiful and I know and understand that not all movies have to be fast. But this made me sleep. Sophoric. And may be that's just me. Maybe I wasn't in the mood for love. You can watch the full movie here or buy the CD.

Verdict: One of the masterpieces of world cinema. This was sadly not for me.

Rating: 3/5

Wild: Cheryl Strayed

2015-05-30T15:28:00.002+05:30

Image Credit: Writer's Edit

This is a first for me. Reading the book AFTER I have seen the movie on which it was based. I saw Reese Witherspoon put in a compelling performance in the 'Wild.' And that stayed with me enough for me to pick up the memoir also called the Wild. Cheryl Strayed as been vilified and glorified after she wrote her experience of hiking the Pacific Crest Trail or the PCT as it is more commonly known. I read some of the reviews on Goodreads and I was amused. So many people have vented their ire because they think Cheryl was 'self-absorbed' and doesn't really gain in experience or understanding through her trek on the trail. Others have said that she was inspiring. For me though, I find it hard to dislike a memoir. There is something intensely personal about that genre. Something that invites us to lay bare the starkest of our follies and the most mundane of our experiences to the harshest of public views. It's the relentless exposure to the most private part of yourself - and a good memoir becomes personal to the reader when the writer has stripped all the last layers of selfdom. A memoir screams. This is me. Read me. Hate me. Love me. Or like Cheryl does on the PCT, burn the book.

Cheryl as during her hike in 1995. Image Credit from NY Mag

And that's what we to got as well. A cross of hatred and love for this book. Cheryl Strayed is a deeply flawed individual and her writing has been slammed as pedestrian. But it doesn't matter. There is a brutal honesty to it. To her. I felt at times I was reading a murder mystery or a thriller. I would settle down for lunch at my office waiting to read the next page. I would imagine the snow. The sheer harsh terrain of the desert. I could feel Cheryl's search to find herself almost as my own. It's because I am at on my own search. I am not on the PCT. I have fleeting dreams of me doing it but like everything else in my life, I dream a lot and do not a lot. So, I keep searching for an alternative version of myself. The person who I think is inside somewhere, who can be happier, more laughier, more kind and somehow more of a better person than what I have been.

The book might just seem to be about Cheryl. But there is also the secondary character of her mother who looms large over all of her anguish. For someone who so deeply adored and loved her mother, it surprised and amused me to read that Cheryl has started a new brand of feminism that screams itself as 'motherfucker.'

Image Credit: Melville

But being a motherfucker, it’s a way of life, really… It’s about having strength rather than fragility, resilience, and faith, and nerve, and really leaning hard into work rather than worry and anxiety.

But how much of the book is of the PCT? Not much. Yes, you learn of blackened toenails. Missing toenails. Hardened as a tree bark skin. You read of loving strangers. The agony of blistered feet screaming for rest. But you don't get to read ALL of the PCT. It's not meant to be a travel book in that widest sense. It's a book that was made by the PCT. But it's a book made by Cheryl for a journey that was her own. I am happy she made me a part of it. Yes, she was stupid in not preparing. But she does show us that fragility and resilience exist in equal parts. Which do we feed first?

Verdict: Tough as nails memoir that can change the way we think. I am kidding. It's brutal and effective. Read it because it's worth it.

Rating: 4/5

If you like the book, you can buy it through LW's own affiliate link on Amazon.

Movie Review: Tanu Weds Manu Returns

2015-05-24T00:05:00.002+05:30

Image Copyright: Eros International

This is a first. A movie review on Lifewordsmith. It's been a while since I have been to the movies. I have been watching a fair number on my laptop though. This week though I was back to the world of popcorn, wide screens, and lush seats. Relatively. ~~Along with the stink of 500 people crammed into one space for 2 hours.~~

Last year, I had seen one of the most progressive movies in Indian cinema through Queen. That movie was a celebration of one actress's prodigious talent - Kangana Ranaut. It was a movie that deserved the accolades. So, it was with the same expectation that I went to see Tanu Weds Manu Returns. Having seen a sassy performance in Queen, I thought that Kangana would offer traditional Hindi moviemaking that has been dominated by helpless simpering heroines the same difference she gave to Queen. How wrong I was! I hadn't seen the original, but if it was as bad as the sequel, I would not want to even think of trying this.

The movie opens with a wedding. Predictable. A lot of dancing. And then 4 years later, here we are in front of a mental institute that looks rather like a castle. A what? Yes, you read it right. We are shown inside a bizarre interrogation room where Tanu and Manu attack each other in a battle of "let's look the most immature" to 3 psychologists who I wouldn't want to trust my little finger with let alone my mind. One doctor speaks Hindi. Anger from Manu. Screeching from Tanu. And then for reasons I can't fathom Manu is taken away and locked up inside the mental institute. Yes! Is this the 21st century? There is even a visual of him receiving what looks suspiciously like an electric shock.

Tanu meanwhile is shown moving around London and then after a bizarre phone call with her best friend takes the next flight to India, while courteously informing Manu's friend/relative? about her husband's stay in rehab...or whatever I can think. I thought, ok, movies have bad beginnings. It should improve right? Tanu gets back. Makes friends with a lawyer who is a tenant at her parents house (no one seems particularly aghast she has left her husband), and is shown drinking copiously at varied times. Scene Two of the many bizarre scenes in this movie? A towel-clad Kangana sashaying down to interrupt a bride-seeing ceremony for her sister (?). Don't ask. It gets worse. Manu is rescued and makes his way back to India. Issues a directive asking Tanu to apologize. And that's enough for Tanu to break into a fiesty "Move On" song, where she cavorts around with the lawyer tenant and eyes another guy...who builds buildings, I think.

Mess gets compounded when Manu eyes a lissome young girl who with a pixie haircut he believes looks like Tanu. With his friend, they pursue the poor girl. Right. Best way to win a woman over. Standard Hindi movie formulae. Kusum (that's the poor girl) does give in (shouldn't all women give in to their stalkers?) and then, Manu decides to get remarried while thinking he has been served a notice for divorce.

Some absurd capers in between that I can't understand and then the finale. Tanu comes back teary-eyed and drunken, begging her husband (ex?) to take her back. Manu pushes her away once. Then promises to marry the hapless Kusum no matter what. Tanu vows to watch the wedding because of some internal karma she needs to expunge. Assorted characters hang around, adding to the confusion. Manu and Kusum start the wedding. And then, of course, Kusum asks the guy before they complete the saat pheras if he is sure. Manu grins stupidly and stupidly grins and grins some more. Wedding off. Tanu and Manu reunite,hugs, and kisses. Kusum is seen crying. And then laughing. Frankly, by the end, I was so happy for her that I believe she should have been dancing with joy instead of marrying this nut!

Have I seen anything worse recently? What was Kangana thinking? Yes, she is brilliant as Kusum, transforming herself from suave bitch to athletic chick all the time. But is there a worth in doing so? And what is this podgy Mahadevan who looks like he has to constantly cover his paunch underneath thick sweaters? This is regressive movie-making. The kind that encourages you to think that it's ok to promise to marry another woman and then jilt her at the altar. Of course, critics will say at least he didn't do that after the marriage, so the woman's honor is intact! What about the man? His honor is enhanced because he decides to get married in what seems like 2 days after his divorce?

Sigh. This is receiving fantastic reviews. I must question my own lack of insanity although Firstpost agrees with some of the inane logic. Maybe I shouldn't think so much. Maybe I should scream "Move On,"and take in absurdity as part of the experience of watching a Hindi movie. Along with the smug patronization of women in it.

Movie Sockometer: Stinking

Liked what you read? Give us a shout and tell us what you would like reviewed next.

Versedays: Love and Friendship by Emily Bronte

2015-05-22T03:20:00.005+05:30

Image Courtesy: sadmuffin.net

I have the good fortune of having few but excellent friends in my life. But just like any other relationship, friendships also need hard work to keep them. Friendship is the most neglected of all relationships as everybody gets busy with their lives. For me, it's been my friendship with my closest friend that has always helped me in life in a lot of ways. I am only the better, wiser and nicer for it. Thank you my friend, you know who you are.

Today's poem is thus in honour of friendship. Emily Bronte is known for her novels, most particularly Wuthering Heights. But she also wrote some lovely poems. Here is one that speaks about the nature of love and friendship. Enjoy!

Love and Friendship

Emily Bronte

Love is like the wild rose-briar,
Friendship like the holly-tree --
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms
But which will bloom most contantly?
The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again
And who wil call the wild-briar fair?
Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
And deck thee with the holly's sheen,
That when December blights thy brow
He may still leave thy garland green.

Butterfly Season: Natasha Ahmed

2015-05-19T19:41:00.000+05:30

Image Credit: Goodreads

It feels wonderful to write a book review after so long! The sabbatical from the blog has made me realize how much I missed this. So without further delay, let me get to the book in question. Natasha Ahmed very graciously sent us her debut novelette “Butterfly Season” for review. I downloaded it on my Kindle and I realized that this is going to be the first book I review after reading on the Kindle! Before I go into the review, here is a summary of the story from Amazon:

On her first holiday in six years, Rumi is expecting to relax and unwind. But when she is set up by her long-time friend, she doesn’t shy away from the possibilities. Ahad, a charming, independent, self-made man, captures her imagination, drawing her away from her disapproving sister, Juveria.

Faced with sizzling chemistry and a meeting of the minds, Ahad and Rumi find themselves deep in a relationship that moves forward with growing intensity. But as her desire for the self-assured Ahad grows, Rumi struggles with a decision that will impact the rest of her life.

Confronted by her scandalized sister, a forbidding uncle and a society that frowns on pre-marital intimacy, Rumi has to decide whether to shed her middle-class sensibilities, turning her back on her family, or return to her secluded existence as an unmarried woman in Pakistan.

We follow Rumi from rainy London to a sweltering Karachi, as she tries to take control of her own destiny.

I am not usually into romantic reads, especially the typical Mills & Boon type where the women swoon for everything sad or joyous and the men are always handsome and strong. However, I like Ahmed’s type of romance where there is friction, attraction, disagreements and understanding all at once. It also is reflective of Pakistani society and its outlook in current times.

The relationship between Rumi and Ahad forms the core of the book and one that results in many lines of thought. One of the first things that struck me was that Pakistani women are coming out of the bondage of traditions and are aspiring to be part of a progressive society. I always had this misconception (thanks to the one track news fed to us by various forms of media) that Pakistani women are conservative and they want to stay that way or they have no recourse even if they want to change. Rumi agrees to pre-marital sex, she drinks and she has opinions of her own. Yet, she always has the shadows of doubt in her mind, questioning herself if she is doing the right thing. Years of traditions being beaten into one’s head is not easy to break away from. Like these, I was mildly surprised at the number of similarities Pakistani women have with Indian women. We are equally answerable to uncles and aunts, apart from parents, on all major decisions in our life, have to think “what other people will say” and of course, are expected to marry “a boy” approved by elders.

Evidently, Rumi is different, just like many Indian women today. She respects customs but they don't bind her. She has a mind of her own and is independent. She has a great friend in Mahira as well. Someone who is supportive and equally strong minded. Juveria provides the foil to these strong women as the one who is obsessed with society and culture and traditions. She is also jealous of the fact that Rumi is free-thinking and has the nerve to do what she does. Juveria is quite real because I know that there are tons of women who are like her. Ahad is the typical Pakistani Brit (like Indian Brits) who barely speaks his native tongue and “melts” in the suffocating Karachi heat. His friend Faizan, Mahira’s husband, is good natured and generally a nice person, but we don’t know much else about him. The men in the book could do with a few more shades to them, according to me.

Ahmed’s writing is quite straightforward, punctuated with the right amount of thrills and sensations that belong in a romantic story. Although the ending is predictable, it paradoxically remains different because of Rumi's decisions. Ahmed has not let the book sag with convention. I cannot reveal more here without having spoilers.

Karachi reminded me of Delhi in India too especially when Mahira says,

“The reason you think Karachi is so dangerous is because of all the negative press. All you hear is how many died, and who robbed who.”

Maybe, there is a side to Delhi that we don’t see in the news. As of now, my judgement is completely clouded by the awful news that comes from that city every day.

At the end of it all, over and above everything else I wrote about, "Butterfly Season" reinforced my belief that Pakistan and India are not really very different in so many ways. It gladdens me. Many thanks to Natasha for sharing this wonderful book with us!

Verdict: Breezy romance with some interesting, thought provoking material

Rating: 3.2/5

Grammar in Fifty Shades of Grey?!

2015-05-15T04:08:00.000+05:30

Fifty Shades of Grey has been hogging the limelight since the past few months. I still haven't read the book or seen the movie (yes, yes I will do one of them soon) but I can safely imagine that it's not really going to be recommended as serious literary fiction known for its eloquent prose. Especially, with lines like, "I feel the colour in my cheeks rising again. I must be the colour of The Communist Manifesto." Oh boy. We would expect the grammar to completely suffer in such a book. Well, apparently E. L. James is not that bad, according to the folks at Grammarly. Here is an interesting infographic. Thanks to the Grammarly team for sharing this with us! Hope this makes for a fun Friday!

Versedays: All the Hemispheres by Hafiz

2015-05-14T05:00:00.000+05:30

Image courtesy: streetyoga.org

It feels lovely to begin the much-loved Versedays again! A lot of of our readers particularly enquired after this section of the blog. We were surprised and honoured.

So for a new beginning, I chose this poem by the 14th century Persian poet Hafiz, a name denoting the one who has memorized the Quran. Hafiz wrote about love and wine and lived in Shiraz (quite apt) in ancient Iran. Hafiz reminds me a lot of Rumi with the same mellifluous tones and rich imagery. He is so influential in Persian culture that even today, his poetry can be found in virtually every Iranian home. On October 12th, Iranians celebrate this mystic poet with singing and poetry. Read more of his poetry here and a little more about his background here. Today's chosen poem is all about new beginnings and an open mind taken from "The Subject Tonight is Love" translated by Daniel Ladinsky. Enjoy!

All the Hemispheres

Hafiz

Leave the familiar for a while.
Let your senses and bodies stretch out

Like a welcomed season
Onto the meadows and shores and hills.

Open up to the Roof.
Make a new water-mark on your excitement
And love.

Like a blooming night flower,
Bestow your vital fragrance of happiness
And giving
Upon our intimate assembly.

Change rooms in your mind for a day.

All the hemispheres in existence
Lie beside an equator
In your heart.

Greet Yourself
In your thousand other forms
As you mount the hidden tide and travel
Back home.

All the hemispheres in heaven
Are sitting around a fire
Chatting

While stitching themselves together
Into the Great Circle inside of
You.

Cot-caught merger

2015-05-11T15:09:00.002+05:30

Image courtesy: rockysmith.net

I was browsing when I came across this short bio of the author of the post I was reading. He had mentioned that he is battling with the "cot-caught merger." I was intrigued by the phrase and I looked it up. It's a neat little nugget of understanding. The cot-caught merger, or the low back merger in linguistics, is a minor but glaring loss of a vowel or a phonological difference that sets apart American speakers from certain parts of the country from the rest of the world. Simply put, they pronounce cot and caught in the same way, losing the "aw" sound, and there is no way to tell the distinction apart from the context. Many Americans say "kaat" for both the words while the distinction should be "kaat" for cot and "kawt" for caught. This is the phonetic difference - /ɑ/ (words like cot, pause) and /ɔ/ (words like caught, paw).

Now, obviously the British don't face these problems because they are very clear about their pronunciation. But how about us Indians? I realized we have a similar problem. We pronounce cot and caught in the same way too. Except that we pronounce both as "kawt." How do we even get over it without sounding like we are trying to put on an accent. If we go the American way we sound completely out of place and if we go the British way nobody will understand us here in India. Imagine going to a furniture shop and saying, "I would like buy that "koot." Well, at least we don't have the trap-bath split. More on that in the next post.

Check out the different pronunciations of "caught."

Life Wordsmith is back!

2015-05-07T20:03:00.002+05:30

It's been more than a year since this blog went into hibernation. We thought we should take a break and refresh ourselves with new ideas and, of course, more books! So here we are. Back from our long sabbatical. We missed all of you and we never knew the amount of readership we were getting until now!

Life Wordsmith is all about reading and language. So we are going to experiment with our content. In addition to our beloved book reviews and poetry, we are also going to put up our thoughts and articles on the English language.

I came across this really nice article on commas today and I felt like sharing it. Named "A Handy Guide to Oxford Commas," it gives an interesting and fun graphical explanation of how useful (or not) the comma really is. The parents and the dog is my particular favourite (grin).

So, let me open up Life Wordsmith once again with this and hope all of you enjoy our blog like before!

My Name is Mary Sutter: Robin Oliveira

2013-12-28T10:40:00.000+05:30

Image Credit: Seattle Times

Choices. Some of us have one too many and we end up regretting it or loving it. Again that’s a choice made unconsciously most of the time. This is the predominant theme in Robin Oliveira’s “My Name is Mary Sutter.” Summary from the book jacket:

Mary Sutter, a brilliant young midwife, dreams of proving herself as capable as any man. But medical schools refuse to teach women. So when her heart is broken, she heads to Washington DC to tend the Civil War wounded. Assisted and encouraged by two surgeons, who both fall for her, and ignoring requests to return home to help her twin sister give birth. Mary pursues her dream of becoming a surgeon and saving lives – no matter the cost to herself or those she loves and no matter the harrowing conditions she has yet to face.

This book was, for quite a while, a constant in book club discussions and topping best books charts. Plus, history, a strong woman protagonist, war. Do I need more reasons to pick it up? The first few chapters give a background on Mary and her family and about Mary’s passion for the medical profession. Mary is an accomplished midwife, beginning to gain more acclaim than even her mother. But she nurses a strong ambition to become a surgeon, which is quite outlandish for women at the time.

Initially, disappointment is Mary’s companion. She loses the one man she develops more than a like for to her twin sister, is rejected by several medical schools purely on the basis of her gender and turned away by Dr Blevens even though he had heard that she was exceptional. But ironically, Mary’s luck turns with the onset of war. To be more specific, the circular from Dorothea Dix the Female Superintendent of Army Nurses, calling for “ladies to serve in (hospitals) in the tradition of Florence Nightingale in her recent successful work caring for British soldiers in the Crimea,” is what inspires Mary.

Mary sets out the very next day to meet Dorothea and later on encounters Dr Stipp who gives her preliminary training to be a surgeon. From here the story winds through Mary’s trials not just as a doctor but as a daughter.

I liked the way Oliveira portrayed Mary – a strong willed woman who appears selfish and heartless but is essentially just torn between giving in to sentiment and chasing her dream. Mary and other women doctors are modeled on real Civil War nurses who went on to become physicians after their experiences in the war. What is different in the book is the way the ravages of war are shown from the perspective of medical care. There are graphic descriptions of legs being sawed, bones being set and of course, childbirth, which are not for the faint of heart. Oliveira also makes the book quite atmospheric with descriptions of the stench, of amputated limbs piled up at the hospital and of the moaning of wounded soldiers.

What I really appreciated and liked was the amount of research that Oliveira has evidently put in to understand the Albany of those times, the attitude of people and the lay of politics. Through it all it's Mary who stands out, with her resolve and passion to follow her dream. However, after the initial stubbornness and pluck that Mary displays she becomes comparatively subdued. It could be that her experiences wear her down or that she is just tired of fighting. I didn't get much clarity on that but the book slows down along with Mary. The ending was also not too different from what I thought might eventually happen. But make the choice. Do read about Mary.

Verdict: Read it for the delightful historic descriptions and for Mary

Rating: 3/5

The End

2013-12-20T09:51:00.001+05:30

The end of the year is approaching. It's been a year that has teased, taunted and scalded in equal measure. I don't think there was ever a year that I wanted to end. So fast. So soon. I have made mistakes this year that I wish I can learn from. Will I? I have learned I can be pretty mean. Be a bitch. Be kind. Be compassionate. Get angry. Be calm. Throw words. Hold back words. I have been through the washing machine, and wrung myself out dry. At the end, I wonder where I will be. I wonder if this is the best and the worst. I have no answer to it.

But as 2013 draws to a close, I can only thank the year. It hardened me. It toughened me. It made me cry. And shatter little glass pieces deep inside my self. I can thank the year because I am grateful I am still standing here to see the wreck of myself. This year has been a slow one for writing - I don't know if I will write more in the coming year. But this is my open letter to the world to let them know that change is coming. And as with all change, we need to move with it. I will be in the Himalayas, closing my eyes to the cold and breathing in the beauty of the mountains when the year ends. I wish all of you a beautiful year, a 2014 that will offer something of hope and redemption in the power of friendship and humanity. To those of you who stuck by me this miserable year, no amount of gratitude is enough. To those who chose to leave, thank you for that as well, till we meet again. Those who offered me words of wisdom and consolation, thank you. You know that you are blessed in the best that life can offer - compassion.

May the coming end be one that sinks to the bottom so that the most beautiful moments can rise again.

Thank you.

Where'd You Go, Bernadette : Maria Semple

2013-12-15T12:22:00.001+05:30

Image Credit: A Little Blog Of Books

Let me give one simple piece of advice to myself. "Don't ever wait months to review a book!!" "Don't ever wait months to review a book!" "Don't ever wait months to review a book!" Ok. I think that's around 3 pieces of advice. But well, I have to shout. And scream and instil this in my little fried head. I read one of the best-sellers of the year, Where'd You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple months ago on my Kindle. I think almost more than 6 months ago while I was on holiday in Taipei. There was no way I could have written a review from there. I thought let me come back and write a review, and just like everything else this miserable year, it just drifted away. So I am trying my best to remember this book - not the book, but how I felt about, and I am failing.

So I turn to wise old Amazon for the book blurb:

Bernadette Fox is notorious. To her Microsoft-guru husband, she's a fearlessly opinionated partner; to fellow private-school mothers in Seattle, she's a disgrace; to design mavens, she's a revolutionary architect, and to 15-year-old Bee, she is a best friend and, simply, Mom.

Then Bernadette disappears. It began when Bee aced her report card and claimed her promised reward: a family trip to Antarctica. But Bernadette's intensifying allergy to Seattle--and people in general--has made her so agoraphobic that a virtual assistant in India now runs her most basic errands. A trip to the end of the earth is problematic.

To find her mother, Bee compiles email messages, official documents, secret correspondence--creating a compulsively readable and touching novel about misplaced genius and a mother and daughter's role in an absurd world.

This was readable. I couldn't say though that I found the book overwhelmingly so. There was just a little something that stopped me from completely getting into the book. That's because I couldn't really get too much into the skin of the character Bernadette Fox. She is a woman who so hates socializing or being in touch with the outside world (having seen so many pitiful specimens of humanity in my previous office, I can understand why!), that she hires a virtual office assistant to do everything for her. Things come to a head when her daughter Bee is promised a trip to Antartica, and Bernadette decides to just fly away. Other reviewers have raved about the crafty construction of the book - it's pieced together from emails, letters and other correspondence. It's apparent that Bernadette is the sort of person you would really want to meet though. She seems witty, loyal and fiercely protective as a mother. And here's where I stop digging into the roots of my memory.

And I can only hope and pray that I finish reviewing the rest of the books that are sitting on my memory's shelf before this year ends. And I am so waiting for this year to end. Over the course of the next year, I plan to revive this blog a little bit more. Infuse it with more life. And that's kind of what I want to do with my life as well. I will be going to Dubai this coming weekend with my parents and then on my own to Nepal. Now, that's a trip I am really looking forward to - the mountains of Nepal. I will look over the mountains as this horrible year slips away. Or perhaps, it hasn't been so horrible - but it has just shown me the worst of people, and in a lot of ways they have seen the worst of me too as a result. Some good friends. Laughter. Good health. Luck. Joy. Reading. Those are the things I wish for next year. And why do I get the feeling that is asking for a lot?

Verdict: A readable book that is funny and eccentric

Rating: 2.5/5

English Bites!: Manish Gupta

2013-12-09T19:45:00.002+05:30

Image Credit: Penguin Books

Have you been intimidated by English? Do you find yourself searching for words often while in conversation for fear of making a mistake? Then Manish Gupta promises to soothe all your fears about the language. I was intrigued about the book and immediately set about reading it. But before I go ahead, the summary as usual from the book jacket –

Is the English language your biggest nightmare? Until he decided to cheat and beat the system. Today he is a smooth talking banker and has written a unique English learning guide that is easy to read, super effective and hilarious. So, whether you’re a vernacular speaker, a GRE/GMAT/CAT/XAT aspirant or just a language nut, English Bites! will expand your vocabulary and improve your verbal ability.

Manish begins by giving a background on how he came to learn English with unbridled passion. While in school, students and teachers alike often slipped into the vernacular, which made it difficult to practice speaking the language. As a result there were multiple occasions where he would struggle to string sentences together without fumbling. When he joined Punjab Engineering College, he “came across several long suffering specimens of (his) species.” Alongside, he nurtured ambitions of getting accepted into universities in the US for which he would have to take various exams in which knowledge of English plays a big role.

In this way, by placing words and their stories in the context of his personal experiences, Manish packs quite a bit of information in these 300+ pages. I must say I learnt a few odd words but I was more fascinated by the history of words, concepts and even brands. How many of us know that Pepsi comes a Greek enzyme called ‘pepsin’ and that Coca-Cola is derived from its original principal ingredients which are cocaine and caffeine?

“Cocaine comes from the Peruvian coca leaf and caffeine from the West African kola nuts, hence the name Coca-Cola.”

Or that the word ‘eavesdropper’ comes from water dropping off the eaves of a roof?

“…the story goes that, centuries ago, houses in England didn’t have any facility to dispose of rainwater falling from the roof. For fear of water dripping into the very foundations, the roofs were made with wide overhangs, called ‘eaves.’ So, the first ‘eavesdroppers’ literally stood in the shelter of those overhangs to overhear private conversations.”

Yet, as much as I relished these tidbits of information, I felt the pace of the book beginning to slow down incredibly. It began to shrink into a compendium of random facts, words and ideas that were very loosely held together by events in Manish’s life.

It was then that I realized that my approach to the book was wrong. I was expecting the satisfaction of reading a novel but this book is aimed at people who are looking to hone their knowledge of English. Looked at from that angle, it’s more than satisfactory because Manish nudges the curiosity of the reader rather than bore him/her with plain vanilla explanations. Manish includes words that can be classified in the range of easy to intermediate and even gives the meanings of these words right on the same page. So, if you fall within this audience then by all means give it a read. If not, read it not as a novel on a continuous basis but as a book of facts that can be read bit by bit.

Last but not the least, thanks much to Manish for sending us this book to review!

Verdict: A lighthearted and less dry version of “Word Power Made Easy.”

Rating: I won’t give a rating because there is no story/writing/plot to evaluate.

Firefly Lane : Kristin Hannah

2013-11-30T09:00:00.001+05:30

Image Credit: Rachel

I am trying to get back to my old habit where I review a book as soon as I finish reading them. So, it was around 2AM on a Friday night that I finished the weepie friendship saga called Firefly Lane by Kristin Hannah. Yet, it's 8AM now on Saturday, and I tell myself that I must write the review now, even though I have to be out somewhere doing the things that we think we ought to be doing on a weekend.

I was wondering how many books have been written on friendship over all these years of literature. I stumbled across Firefly Lane on a list on Goodreads that captured supposedly the best books on this complex relationship. Umm, Harry Potter was on top of that list, so I am not sure how to judge this list. But of late, I have been thinking a lot about this often neglected corner of our lives - friendship. You move through life, and they say that if you have at least 2 or 3 really close friends then you have done very well in life. It seems like a small thing. 2 or 3? Come on, don't we all have 500 friends on Facebook? Yet, we know what they mean. There are few more perpelxing yet abused relationships than friends. They are supposed to be there when we need them, and also supposed to be easily abandoned. It always surprises me the ease with each friends break off. There are no complex contracts as in a marriage. And no ties of blood as in a family. So when things go bad in a friendship, it's easy to cut the cord. Or so it seems.

But not for Katie and Tully - friends of more than 30 years. Bonded through years of seeing the best of each other and the worst in each other. Kristin Hannah has written a novel that rarely flags. We follow Katie and Tully through their tumultous teens and then the whirlwind of adulthood. She treats us to the little promises that friendship sticks its glue on. Do you trust me? Tully asks. And that's one of the motifs of their friendship. Because Katie always replies that she does. "What would I ever do without you?" she questions at another time. "You wouldn't have to find out," replies Kate.

Tully is the firebrand. And Kate the patient one. There is tension between them - many times - and that's where I like the fact that Hannah keeps it realistic. There are no roses and apples and BFF nonsense all the time. An undercurrent always pulls these very different personalities. They have different ideals and desires from life. Yet, they know one thing - when the chips are down, they are there for each other.

“Sometimes being a good friend means saying nothing."

"I'm just supposed to watch her make a mistake?"

"Sometimes, yes. And then you stand by to pick up the pieces.”

It's obvious as the novel lurches to an end that it's poor Tully that you root for. The one who makes the mistakes that matter. There were times when the storyline seemed weak, ridden with cliches. And it could have done with some slicker editing. On two consecutive pages, we are told that Tully rides in with her "brand-new" VW Beetle. I was dreading the end of the book because I thought that is where we will be treated to the classic 'career woman' loses out to the 'candle-lit family is everything' argument. Hannah, to her credit, does this subtly. And also makes sure the novel turns out to be a weepie.

"I guess no one stays friends for more than thirty years without a few broken hearts along the way," says Kate near the end of the novel. I have to agree. For these thirty years, we are treated to a rich and complex relationship that is no less fulfilling than any other in our lives.

Verdict: Very readable. Well, read it. Really.

Rating: 3/5