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jacki_f 's review for:
The Ministry of Utmost Happiness
by Arundhati Roy
I so expected to love this book. I loved “God of Small Things” and several of my all-time favourite books are by Indian authors. So after approaching it full of anticipation and expectations, it pains me to say that I found it almost unreadable. Which is feel sure is more about me and my failure as a literary reader. But I did not “get” it.
The book is about a disjointed trio on the margins of society, people who have no people, who come together and make a new home in a Delhi graveyard. Anjum is a hermaphrodite who considers herself a “counterfeit woman” and who longs to be a mother. Saddam Hussein hero-worships the dictator Saddam Hussein and has renamed himself in his honour. And Tilo’s great love is a Kashmiri terrorist.
It’s an extremely disjointed novel, more like a collection of barely related stories that move backwards and forwards in time, which gradually weave themselves together to allow you to spot the common threads. Along the way we are introduced to dozens of characters and for almost every one we will be given their back story, whether it is relevant or not. There is a lot of “what happened” and not a lot of dialogue.
Essentially this is a book without a plot and if you realise that going in, you’ll probably struggle less with it than I did. The writing is lovely: scenes are described in such a way that you’re there, you see what the characters are seeing. Even characters who make only a brief appearance are brought vividly to life. The instability in Kashmir and its effect on the people who live there is chillingly portrayed – when an ear infection means you could get shot because you can’t hear the instructions from the checkpoints.
I finished it and I feel a sense of accomplishment for doing so, but would I recommend it? No not really.
The book is about a disjointed trio on the margins of society, people who have no people, who come together and make a new home in a Delhi graveyard. Anjum is a hermaphrodite who considers herself a “counterfeit woman” and who longs to be a mother. Saddam Hussein hero-worships the dictator Saddam Hussein and has renamed himself in his honour. And Tilo’s great love is a Kashmiri terrorist.
It’s an extremely disjointed novel, more like a collection of barely related stories that move backwards and forwards in time, which gradually weave themselves together to allow you to spot the common threads. Along the way we are introduced to dozens of characters and for almost every one we will be given their back story, whether it is relevant or not. There is a lot of “what happened” and not a lot of dialogue.
Essentially this is a book without a plot and if you realise that going in, you’ll probably struggle less with it than I did. The writing is lovely: scenes are described in such a way that you’re there, you see what the characters are seeing. Even characters who make only a brief appearance are brought vividly to life. The instability in Kashmir and its effect on the people who live there is chillingly portrayed – when an ear infection means you could get shot because you can’t hear the instructions from the checkpoints.
I finished it and I feel a sense of accomplishment for doing so, but would I recommend it? No not really.