I have never been a great lover of Ken Follet's works. Sure he writes amazing suspense thrillers, excellent page-turners, but I have always felt his books a little too raw for my taste. That being said, I loved his epic story - Pillars of the Earth. The book came out in 1989 and made its way to Oprah's list in 2007. I never heard about it until I saw Follet's TV interview recently about the new mini-series they are making based on this book. I am glad to have picked it up a little later than never. It is a riveting page-turner. Once I started the book, I could not put it down, and spent three sleepless nights over it. And it was a whopping 1000 pages!
It is an epic work, true to the word, with magnificent characters, grand buildings and an excellent narration. Based in the medieval times, it rotates around the construction of a Gothic cathedral in a fictitious town called Kingsbridge. The story takes place from 1123 to 1174 A.D. The book reflects the political anarchy from one of the most contentious times in English history, when the country was ravaged by civil war, with self appointed heirs fighting for the throne after Henry I. The novel however, does not focus much on the war, but with the building of a church. It describes the lives of a few specific fictional characters that are involved with or are affected by the construction of the cathedral, with the backdrop of the political happenings of those times. The book describes in great lengths the development of Gothic architecture, and the typical growth and fall of market towns in medieval England, inter-laced with the political tug between the church and the state. The characters include stone-masons from two generations, a prior, the daughter of a knight, the daughter of an earl, and her brother who try to earn back their earldom- give life to the book and are greatly engaging. The narrative is quick and captivating, with lots of twists and turns and the political backdrop is exciting.
The only complaints I have with the book, are the unnaturally conniving behavior depicted by some of the characters and excessive narratives of unnecessary sex at times. But then it's a Ken Follet novel. Since its an old book, you should be able to get a used copy easily just like I did.
All that said, my recommendation for you: Do pick it up! Do not be discouraged by the size of the book, since you will hardly notice how long you've been reading for. And at the end, you will be sad that it ended.
PS: There is a sequel to this book named, World Without End. I have yet to pick a copy.
They stumble and falter, then prod and push,
amble and jostle, my words then gallop in a parade as I sit by
Tirelessly they march on - dreaming and dancing
O those delightful episodes! When all I can do with contentment is sigh
Poised for the deluge I sit waiting in my cozy nook
But today is not that day and the page is empty in my book
The vibrant emerald hues or the memories of the rain
The smell of a fresh summer lily
The flashes of joy or that long forgotten pain-
all old friends who take me through my page. Today they stare at me nonchalantly
Poised for the deluge I sit waiting in my cozy nook
But today is not that day and the page is empty in my book
This morning I read this beautiful poem by Tagore. In the poem he draws parallels between a mother's gifts to her child and God's beautiful creations. The mother's song is compared to the music in the leaves and the colorful toys to the many hued flowers. The poem is filled with amazing imagery describing nature's many gifts to us. It is truly lovely! Read on...
When I bring to you colored toys, my child,
I understand why there is such a play of colors on clouds, on water,
and why flowers are painted in tints
—when I give colored toys to you, my child.
When I sing to make you dance
I truly know why there is music in leaves,
and why waves send their chorus of voices to the heart of the listening earth
—when I sing to make you dance.
When I bring sweet things to your greedy hands
I know why there is honey in the cup of the flowers
and why fruits are secretly filled with sweet juice
—when I bring sweet things to your greedy hands.
When I kiss your face to make you smile, my darling,
I surely understand what pleasure streams from the sky in morning light,
and what delight that is that is which the summer breeze brings to my body
I started reading this one afternoon when I sat in the bookstore. I hadn't purchased a copy by that time. And much to my surprise I sat there and read about 100 pages. I did not budge an inch. So, one might ask- Is this a good book? Unfortunately I do not know how to answer that question. I did think it was very well written, however, was very surprised to learn that it won the Booker prize for 2006.
The Inheritance of Loss, Kiran Desai's second book, travels back and forth between Kalimpong, a tiny Himalayan hill town, and the streets of New York City, with a few scenes rolling in England.
The story revovles around a 16 year old orphaned girl Sai, who is sent to live with her grandfather a retired judge and former civil servant, who lives in a desolate bungalow on the hills in Kalimpong. The judge has a cook, whose son Biju is an illegal immigrant in New York, who tries to make a living by doing all kinds of odd jobs. The plot oscillates between the lives of Sai, the judge and his cook with the backdrop of the Gorkhaland agitation, and Biju's struggles to build a life for himself in the States. The book is full of other Kalimpong characters most of whom are uproots living in exile. All the characters in the book seem to be struggling for something-some yearn for love while some struggle for acceptance. There is a prominent potrayal of immigrant emotions in most of the characters as they try to discover who they are and where they belong to. Desai's narrative of exotic locations and eccentric characters is colorful and heart warming.
So, why was I surprised that this book won the Booker. At times I found the narrative incoherent, as it shifted between the characters in Kalimpong and the desperation portrayed by the character in New York. Some conversations were complex and the dialogue was copious at times. A times the sentences confused me. I am not sure if it is an accepted form of prose or experimentation, where the author used odd punctuation and expressions in the middle of some sentences. Am I suggesting that the book was badly written, definitely not. Please give it a try. You might love it or it could just pass for an average book. However, it did not fulfill my expectations of a Booker winner.
Everybody has read this book or is looking to read it. I finally did! I fell in love with the character, which is to say; the writer herself, since this is a true story and she wrote a memoir of a period in her very own life. She described a time in her life when she experiences a sort of mid-life crisis, (but she’s only 34,) post-divorce, and decides to spend 4 months each in Italy, India and Indonesia, chasing worldly pleasure, spiritual devotion, and a balance between the two. She chronicled her travels in an excellent manner and very quickly I found myself absorbed in them.
I found her narration extremely witty and entertaining at times. Often times I could not help myself from laughing out loud while I was reading, for instance, when she describes her train of thoughts as she tries to meditate in an Ashram in India: "I was wondering where I should live once this year of traveling has ended. . . . If I lived somewhere cheaper than New York, maybe I could afford an extra bedroom and then I could have a special meditation room! That'd be nice. I could paint it gold. Or maybe a rich blue. No, gold. No, blue. . . . Finally noticing this train of thought, I was aghast. I thought: . . . How about this, you spastic fool — how about you try to meditate right here, right now, right where you actually are?"
Her writing is deep and insightful, easy to read, and very captivating. She is self-deprecating; and is not one bit ashamed to bare it all out. I enjoyed the book for the most part, but found some parts boring. But I am really glad I read this book. And I will certainly read this book a few more times for sure. To describe this book in one sentence: Travel journal meets self-improvement guide. Go figure!
Here is one of my favorite conversations from the book:
So, when the old man asked me in person what I really wanted, I found other, truer words.
“I want to have a lasting experience with God,” I told him. “Sometimes I feel like I understand the divinity of this world, but then I lose it because I get distracted by my petty desires and fears. I want to be with God all the time. But I don’t want to be a monk, or totally give up worldly pleasures. I guess what I want to learn is how to live in this world and enjoy its delights, but also devote myself to God.”
Ketut said he could answer my question with a picture. He showed me a sketch he’d drawn during meditation. It was an androgynous human figure, standing up, hands clasped in prayer. But this figure had four legs and no head. Where the head should have been, there was only wild foliage of ferns and flowers. There was a small, smiling face drawn over the heart.”
“To find the balance you want,” Ketut spoke through his translator, “this is what you must become. You must keep your feet grounded so firmly on the earth that it’s like you have four legs, instead of two. That way, you can stay in the world. But you must stop looking at the world through your head. You must look through your heart, instead. That way you will know God.”
The phone kept ringing all day. Sahana could hardly answer a call and get back to whatever she was doing before it started ringing again. Some days were just crazy, she thought. Just as the school bus had left with Sid on board, she wanted to take a breather before she could run a bath for BJ. But at the moment she just watched as BJ made a mess on his high chair with mashed up cereal. He spilled some water on it as well, to make his art-work more appealing to him. She usually gave him a bath during the evenings. But he had a cold and she decided to do it that morning instead, when it was warmer. Sahana had two boys, Siddhardh and Bharadhwaj, and they went by Sid and BJ. Sid was four and BJ would turn two in a couple of months. She stood leaning on the kitchen counter, observing BJ and was lost in her thoughts. How busily he went about his mess, she pondered and smiled to herself. Sid was very different when he was a baby. He started talking when he was two. He did not know many words, but the few he did, he mouthed them perfectly. But BJ was very different, he made different gurgling noises and cooed and crooned. All the baby talk she missed out from Sid, she heard in plenty from BJ now. As she stood there day dreaming, the phone rang again. She suddenly realized that she could not afford to waste all day. She picked BJ from his chair and let the phone ring. The phone rang some more until the answering machine took over. The caller did not leave a message. Sahana got busy with her chores. She ran a bath for BJ, dressed him and put him down in the living room on the floor with his baby gym and toys. Soon BJ was much occupied with his toys and he let her go. She left him at the same spot in the living room everyday, where she could keep an eye on him as she worked in the kitchen. She went into the kitchen and cleaned up the breakfast mess he made and got to the dishes.
The phone started ringing again and this time she decided to answer. She heard her mother's voice on the other end of the line. Her mother lived in India and she called her every morning. It was after her mother's dinner time, and she called Sahana for their customary morning call. Sahana pressed the speaker button and left the phone on the counter top and went about her work. They chatted about everyday stuff. Her mother inquired after the kids, and was not satisfied until Sahana gave a detailed description of what they did the previous days. Her mother missed her grand-kids very much and therefore Sahana always entertained her mother and went to great lengths with details regarding the kids even on days she did not feel up to it. May be it was one of the ways she compensated the guilt of living in another continent, she sometimes admitted to herself. Her mother mentioned that there was a call from a man named Kumar earlier in the day. Her mother had been at the temple and the maid had answered the call. She said that he had asked for Sahana, and when she told him that she did not live here anymore, requested if she could get her current address and telephone number. The maid thought it was someone the family knew, and passed on the information that was listed in the book next to the phone for emergencies. Her mother did not know who he was, and admonished the maid for giving out information without first asking how he knew the family. Sahana listened to her mom and at the same time tried to recall if she knew Kumar. Not able to associate the name with a face, she told her mother that it was okay, and asked her to stop worrying. If he called her, then she would find out how he knew her and what he wanted. They chatted for a few more minutes and her mother said it was time for her to sleep. Sahana ended the call and went back to the living room. She spent some time with BJ and turned her laptop on. She settled down in the sofa facing BJ. BJ was busy playing with his toys, and once every few minutes he would say something and expected her to answer. She prayed she could get some work done today.
It was close to 10:30 in the morning. And she worried that if this was the case everyday, she would fall behind with her work load. Sahana worked part time as an assistant editor of a chemical engineering journal. She worked from home 2 days a week, ever since BJ was born. Sahana got her master's in chemical engineering from the University of Illinois at Chicago. She worked as a researcher for a few years after graduation. She published many papers in peer reviewed journals. She always wrote excellent journal articles. She knew that she excelled at presenting results and writing articles than at research itself. Since she enjoyed scientific writing, she tried for a job which gave her more opportunities to do that, and eventually found her way to her current job. Though Sahana worked full time before Sid was born, she decided to stay at home 2 days a week. This way she needed to work only 3 days a week and she went to the office just one day every week. In order to reduce her work load she chose a part time position. Though she missed the fun of challenging deadlines and the rush she got from solving difficult challenges, she was happy to be staying at home and spending time with Sid and BJ. It was 4 years since she made the change, but never once seriously regretted her decision. Sahana continued to work for another hour, as BJ played on the floor in front of her. She knew he was getting sleepy and she had to pause for a while, to put him to sleep. She finished the paragraph she was working on and lifted him off the floor. She patted him to sleep and very soon he was sound asleep. She went into the boy’s room and lowered BJ in the crib. She heard the phone ring in the living room. There was no extension in this room and thankfully BJ did not even move a muscle. She saw that he slept on and silently left the room.
The phone kept on ringing, as she headed to her bedroom. She answered and did not hear anything for a few second. Then she heard a male voice slowly say ‘Hello.’ She asked who it was, but did not receive an immediate answer. She sensed that the person hesitated to talk. Finally there was a reply, ‘This is Kumar speaking.’ Huh! Finally! Sahana thought to herself. Why was this guy calling me and I'd rather he speaks something now at least! She asked him how he knew her, and what the purpose of his call was. Kumar started to speak slowly, ‘Sahana’, he said shyly, ‘I don't know if you remember me but we met a long time ago. My name is Suresh Kumar.’ Sahana was listening to him and she was trying to remember where she met him. She felt awkward and did not want to embarrass him by plainly admitting she did not remember him. As though sensing her predicament, he began to speak again, ‘I am sure it must be hard for you to recall. We met a long time ago. You were driving near RTC complex on your scooter. You stopped at the traffic light and I approached you.’ He stopped and she realized that he could not go on any further. She immediately knew who he was. She thought; Good heavens! It’s him! It was many years ago, I was perhaps 21 at that time. She now remembered that day and all the events came flooding back. She now knew exactly who Kumar was! She was shocked beyond all means. Her heart was racing. Sahana was very confused how he still remembered her and why he wanted to talk to her after all these years. She wanted to ask him a thousand questions, ‘Hey! I remember you,’ she started excitedly, ‘how did you get my number?’ That she already knew and corrected herself, ‘I mean how did you get my mother's number?! Where are you now, what do you do?’ As she spoke she realized he must have grown up now. ‘Why are you calling me, I mean, why did you want to call me, I mean, what can I do for you. Where are you, how are you? And what are you doing now? Where are you calling from?’ She realized she did not give Kumar a chance to talk and was repeating the same questions again and again. She stopped at once, and listened eagerly. Kumar started to answer, and she could see that he was much more relaxed now, ‘I am calling from Hyderabad. I got my Masters Degree in Sociology. I have been awarded a fellowship to come to Florida for a conference. I knew you had left the country 15 years ago. It was very important for me to find you. I tried to find out where you were. I went back to the home and asked for your address. They had your parents' address from 16 years ago. I asked around and found out their current address and phone number. I managed to get it and finally your number. I never got a chance to thank you properly, and I regretted that every single day. I had to find you and tell you this.’ He concluded. She could sense the sincerity in his voice, and he was struggling to hide his emotions and sound calm. Sahana just listened; she was at a loss for words. She then said, ‘Congratulations, Kumar!’ She did not know what else to say. She was very happy for him; she had never felt this happy for anybody else. He went on to say that he would be very happy if he got a chance to meet her once he arrived in the US. She said they could plan that and see when they could meet. They tried to chat for a few minutes, exchanged e-mail addressees and decided to be in touch. He finally hung up.
Sahana leaned back in the armchair. She was staring at the fabric on the chair under her arm. She had a habit of running her fingers along the lines on the fabric. She did it every single time she sat there. But today she just sat looking at it. Her mind was racing elsewhere. She vividly recalled the day she met Suresh Kumar. It was a hot summer day. She lived in a coastal town in the southern part of India. It was always humid there, and she was sweating badly. She was born there, and had never left the place even for college. Now she decided to go to the US to pursue her higher studies. It was certainly a big step for her and an even bigger shock for her parents. She had applied to a number of colleges and was waiting to hear from them. She would graduate in the next year and fly off. It was a very exciting idea for her. One more year and she would be gone, lead an independent life, and finally be an adult. She dreamed about it often, trying to imagine how her life would be. That morning she was driving her scooter to the bus terminal to catch a bus. Sahana was doing a 3-month project at a fertilizer plant as part of a summer internship. Her teammates took the bus together, and they would be waiting for her. She hoped to take the same bus as them. If she missed it, she would have to ride in the next one alone and it would be a boring ride. She was already running late. The traffic light at the entrance to the bus terminal turned red. She was sweating from the heat, and was waiting for the light to turn green. A scrawny looking boy approached her. He asked her for money. He looked like he was 7 or 8 at that time. His t-shirt was filthy and torn at a few places. She was very irritated and asked, ‘Why are you begging? Why aren’t you in school? Where are your parents?’ She expected him to run off to the next car or scooter waiting there. But he defiantly answered her, 'I have no parents.’ Sahana thought, You liar! She did not believe him at all, and thought that perhaps his parents made him beg or he was one of the boys from the slums who came from a poor family and was begging for some easy and extra money. She just said, ‘Ohh, is that so?! I know a place near-by where they take in kids like you and give them a place to stay and they also send them to school. Will you go with me?’ The light turned green, and people were honking behind her. ‘I will pull to the side of the road, come and meet me there,’ she said. She expected the little fellow to run away as soon as she said that. But to her surprise he ran to the side of the road and waited for her! She thought he was calling her bluff. She went there and asked him to hop on her scooter, expecting him to bolt away any minute now. But he climbed on and sat. At first she did not know what to do. She decided to give him money and send him away. It did not feel right to her. She was thinking fast. Suddenly she remembered a place her grandfather went to every month. It was a home for the aged, she remembered him remark that they started taking in orphans as well. Her grandfather went there often and performed magic tricks to entertain the inmates there. He was a professional magician. She immediately started her scooter and took a turn away from the bus terminal, half expecting the boy to jump down and run. He sat there still and calmly asked her where she was taking him. ‘Prema Samajam,’ she replied, the name of the home. ‘I know that place,’ he said, 'I heard they send the kids to school there, give them food, books and uniforms,’ he continued matter-of-factly. Sahana just smiled to herself, still unable to believe all that was happening was true. ‘So if you knew the place why did you not go there before?’ She asked. ‘I tried,’ he replied, ‘they would not take me in.’ ‘Why?’ She asked. ‘They have some rules or something. A kid can’t come and walk in there simply; they need an adult to enroll them. Strange asking orphans to get an adult who says he knows the kid,’ he smirked. Sahana could not muster a reply. She continued driving. After a few minutes they arrived at the place. She parked her scooter and they both walked in. She went in and introduced herself to a bored looking clerk. As soon as he heard her grandfather’s name he became much more responsive. She described to him how she met the boy and the conversation that took place between them. He told her that they could take the boy in immediately. All she had to do was fill a form and leave her address and phone number with him. He handed her a form. She thanked him and she started filling it. The clerk was mumbling under his breath. She could not understand what he was saying entirely, but got the gist of it. He was complaining how young people these days thought they could save the world and its orphans. And two days later the kids always somehow ran away. What a waste of time! And so on. She answered the questions on the first page, mostly details about her. She turned the page it asked for the boy’s name. She realized she had not even asked him his name. He was sitting on a bench at the other end of the room. ‘What’s your name?’ She asked. ‘Suresh Kumar,’ he replied, ‘my parents named me Suresh, I added the Kumar myself,’ he said proudly. Sahana could not help but laugh. He is such a strange fellow, she thought to herself. Once the paper work was duly filed in, the staff told her she could leave. She hesitated for a minute and then looked at Kumar and said, ‘Okay! I guess that’s it then. Good luck! I hope you like this place.’ He just looked at her and said, ‘Okay, Goodbye!’ Sahana said goodbye and thanked the clerk and left. She was an hour late. She went to the bus terminal and got on the next bus leaving for the plant. She rode the bus in silence, her friends had already left. However, she did not get bored as she had thought earlier. She kept thinking of the boy. She thought of the boy a few times in the coming weeks. She wanted to go and visit him, but never actually did. She was not even sure he still stayed there, or perhaps he ran away like the clerk said he would. She felt guilty about it, but soon forgot him completely. She graduated soon and left for the US. She went home several times later but never once made the trip to the home to inquire after the boy.
Sahana sat in the armchair staring at the fabric and thinking about that summer day from 15 years ago. She was so different then. Impulsive and confident, she felt the boy she met was just like her. She liked the boy instantly. Would she do the same thing today? Would she have left the things she was doing, to discourage some poor kid begging for money? Would she take the time to take a needy kid and enroll him at an orphanage? She sat there pondering. And long before she heard the baby monitor. BJ was awake now. She had to go to him. The call from Kumar reminded her of a very different time of her life. She had changed a lot, in several ways, some for the better and some not. That hot summer day from 15 years ago felt like another lifetime.
