I recently read Aravind Adiga's 'The White Tiger' which won the Man Booker Prize. And I confess that I enjoyed it more than I expected to because I am not partial to books set in Delhi. It should have really been called The Wily Fox, is my humble submission but Mr. Adiga has every right to name his own book. However, I am left with a very important question that won't go away. Did it deserve the Man Booker? To honour the format of Adiga's book- a letter to the Premier of China- I'll do the same.
Dear Booker Prize Selector,
This is not a letter stemming from envy, jealousy, peevishness or the sour-grapes syndrome. But one of perplexity. I read The White Tiger only because it had won your esteemed prize and if most of Bombay's readers are honest, they'll admit to not seeing it on the city's premium bookshelves before the honour. The book is interesting, comical, tragic and highlights issues of great importance. But nowhere in the book did I feel that it stayed with me for a long while. In any great book, some form of extreme reaction or repsponse is provoked. Whether you contain it or exhibit it, depends on who you are. This book did neither. What I do understand and appreciate, is that it boldly threw open the doors of the ugly Delhi and its even uglier people (which we Bombayites love to read about) to the world. Since India is 'hot' and everyone wants a piece of it, to chew, screw or brew, I applaud that the 'shocking' tale of Balram Halwai went against the tide of the newly popular India and instead made people look at how shameful it can be. I praise the author's courage and his cleverness in doing it through his unique letter-writing protagonist.
But I am left to wonder, dear selector, was this book judged for its timely subject, its contrariness and at some point, was its literary worthiness and indeed linguistic beauty (or lack thereof) considered at all? Or is it the trend to give Indian authors the credit that's been due for a while now and this seems a rather good way of settling debts?
I once received some feedback from a lovely young editor at a big publishing company about a story I sent her, saying that at this time the publishers were looking for stories more relevant to India and not written for a Western audience. Fair enough. After all, it's the book Business. So what then is this Booker winner? If not pandering to a Western audience? It's certainly of very little interest or eye-opening significance to an Indian audience. My dear selector, we live here. We already know. We also learned long ago how to ignore. We let our politicians pretend to care. We let our socialites ooh and aah. We, the real Indian audience, trod on, sometimes becoming Balram Halwai ourselves!
Mr. Adiga has done a fine job in exposing and dashing the myth of 'India Shining/Rising/Climbing' and all other fairly undeserved praise that India has gained in the Western media. But ceteris paribus, what was the final nail in the coffins of the competing authors? Most of their books read beautifully, with sentences that stayed in one's mind for months to come. The White Tiger may be many things but to a voracious and versatile reader, it does not bear the hallmark of a 'fine book' or even the kind of 'literary elitism' the Man Booker has often been accused of in the past!
Or has irony prevailed? That in the felling of the giant 'India Shining' myth, Adiga's book has actually won because Indian authors are the new 'it' things.
Sincerely,
A confused reader/writer.
Dear Booker Prize Selector,
This is not a letter stemming from envy, jealousy, peevishness or the sour-grapes syndrome. But one of perplexity. I read The White Tiger only because it had won your esteemed prize and if most of Bombay's readers are honest, they'll admit to not seeing it on the city's premium bookshelves before the honour. The book is interesting, comical, tragic and highlights issues of great importance. But nowhere in the book did I feel that it stayed with me for a long while. In any great book, some form of extreme reaction or repsponse is provoked. Whether you contain it or exhibit it, depends on who you are. This book did neither. What I do understand and appreciate, is that it boldly threw open the doors of the ugly Delhi and its even uglier people (which we Bombayites love to read about) to the world. Since India is 'hot' and everyone wants a piece of it, to chew, screw or brew, I applaud that the 'shocking' tale of Balram Halwai went against the tide of the newly popular India and instead made people look at how shameful it can be. I praise the author's courage and his cleverness in doing it through his unique letter-writing protagonist.
But I am left to wonder, dear selector, was this book judged for its timely subject, its contrariness and at some point, was its literary worthiness and indeed linguistic beauty (or lack thereof) considered at all? Or is it the trend to give Indian authors the credit that's been due for a while now and this seems a rather good way of settling debts?
I once received some feedback from a lovely young editor at a big publishing company about a story I sent her, saying that at this time the publishers were looking for stories more relevant to India and not written for a Western audience. Fair enough. After all, it's the book Business. So what then is this Booker winner? If not pandering to a Western audience? It's certainly of very little interest or eye-opening significance to an Indian audience. My dear selector, we live here. We already know. We also learned long ago how to ignore. We let our politicians pretend to care. We let our socialites ooh and aah. We, the real Indian audience, trod on, sometimes becoming Balram Halwai ourselves!
Mr. Adiga has done a fine job in exposing and dashing the myth of 'India Shining/Rising/Climbing' and all other fairly undeserved praise that India has gained in the Western media. But ceteris paribus, what was the final nail in the coffins of the competing authors? Most of their books read beautifully, with sentences that stayed in one's mind for months to come. The White Tiger may be many things but to a voracious and versatile reader, it does not bear the hallmark of a 'fine book' or even the kind of 'literary elitism' the Man Booker has often been accused of in the past!
Or has irony prevailed? That in the felling of the giant 'India Shining' myth, Adiga's book has actually won because Indian authors are the new 'it' things.
Sincerely,
A confused reader/writer.
2 comments:
I read your comments and honestly am not in a postion to comment unelss i read the book....so darling let me read the book and i will leave my comments..
I am looking forward to it!
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