When I first heard aboutKratu ( PanMacmillan India), I wanted to read it. I wanted to know what a Hindu monk, as the author describes himself, had to say about mortality, spiritual awakening and perhaps even about “moh-maya” that we are taught about in Hindi poetry. But it all came to a grinding halt when I read the book blurb. I have been unable to process the description of the book especially when it describes the protagonist of the novel “burdened by deathless memory”. I am so lost as to what it means. I was advised to read the book and understand what the author is conveying. But this phrase instead of making me curious has just left me baffled. Life is too short to read an entire book-length exposition on the subject when the blurb itself fails to communicate clearly. I am deeply disappointed.
I strongly urge those with a spiritual bent of mind or who are keen readers of MBS ( Mind, Body, Spirit) literature to pick this book up. They are probably the intended audience.
The story’s premise of a sixteen-year-old navigating her teen years as well as coming to terms with her mother’s marriage is hard enough but it gets tougher when she has to live two lives, almost as if in parallel dimensions— online and reality. The Secret Life of Debbie G ( HarperCollins India) is Vibha Batra’s first graphic novel. It has been illustrated by Kalayani Ganapathy. It is an interesting concept where the teenage conversations are portrayed well. But the execution leaves a lot to be desired. On the cover of the book is the hashtag— #agraphicnovel. It is jarring since no graphic novel should ever have to announce it’s format to readers. Pity this one had to. Then the story itself is spread out in image frames, long text and speech bubbles laid out across pages. It is a hybrid version of young adult literature, caught between conversation-propelled plot and that of graphics. Instead it comes across as a heavily illustrated storybook that is hard to sink into. The confusion about the format plays havoc with the dialogue too. It allows for an expansiveness that a tightly knit graphic novel would not have the luxury to even consider as each frame, its text, its framing, its colouring would have to be considered umpteen times before finalising the layout. The text and illustrations complement each other in a traditional graphic novel to create a cohesive narrative. This is sadly lacking in The Secret Life of Debbie G.. I sincerely hope that the next graphic novel Vibha Batra creates — and in my heart I know she will— it will be a tauter story; and I certainly look forward to it. This particular story can be considered as a bridging text in Vibha Batra’s repertoire or a fine example of the evolution of a writer with immense potential!
The Longest Kiss: The Life and Times of Devika Rani by Kishwar Desai ( Context, Westland Books), is a biography of the famous Bollywood actress, Devika Rani. It is a biography that Kishwar Desai has put together after poring over thousands and thousands of the actress’s personal correspondence. It creates an image of woman who was a strong individual, had an identity of her own, knew her mind and was very sure what she wanted out of the film industry. She was then the only, and perhaps even now, actress/filmmaker/producer and owner of a film studio – Bombay Talkies. She was known internationally in the 1930s, a feat that is hard for many to achieve even today, nearly a century later!
The Longest Kiss is informative and an absorbing read even if one is unfamiliar with the Bollywood landscape of the 1930s to 1940s. Bombay Talkies produced some of the better-known films of its time. It helped launch careers of many actors such as Ashok Kumar and Dilip Kumar. Kishwar Desai captures the tumultousness of setting up a new business, in what was then uncharted waters, but the manner in which Devika Rani supported her first husband and business partner, Himansu Rai is astonishing. There are glimpses of the tough life she had and the balancing act she had to do often especially with Himansu’s failing mental health and irascible temper. Apparently in private he would take it out on Devika Rani, at times leaving her unconscious and yet she persisted in supporting him and working hard to preserve their business. Often she was also the leading lady in the films they produced together. Having said that she ensured that Bombay Talkies ran smoothly, the women actresses hired found it to be a safe haven and a respite from their domestic drudgery, the employees found it to be professionally run and the presence of the German cinematographers were more a blessing than an interference. So much so when the British arrived at the height of World War II to whisk the Germans away to detention camps, Bombay Talkies continued to work smoothly as the Indians had been trained well by the Germans and Devika Rani ensured that there was no break in the production schedules. Of course, Kishwar Desai details a great deal of the financial ups and downs the firm faced and how deftly Devika Rani steered it through. The actress even survived successfully a revolt within her firm and the board and continued to make films that were a critical and a commercial success. It was later that she was introduced by Bharati Sarabhai to the former Russian aristocrat and painter Svetsolav Roerich. They got along famously well and the rest as they say is history. This too is documented fairly well documented by Kishwar Desai except that it forms a very slim portion of the book. Devika Rani died a wealthy woman, a far cry from the days with Himansu when she had to starve herself or hide the fact that she did not have sufficient clothes to wear.
This is a fascinating book that was fifteen years in the making and will forever be referred to by cinema buffs, researchers and historians curious about India’s past, and of course feminists who would be keen to review how a young woman, newly returned from Britain, left her mark on the film industry in this astonishing manner. All this despite the trials and tribuulations she faced at home, Himansu was known to beat her but she hid it from public, he had reduced her to penury and she had pawned her jewels to help him maintain his illusion of a successful man. There are so many wrongs in this and yet so many women readers will recognise the eternal truth of being caught in this bind of being themselves while being “supportive” of their male partners. There is this particular sentiment that wafts through the book that is difficult to pin down. It is a feeling that develops within the reader curious as to why Devika Rani despite all odds chose to stay with an abusive partner like Himansu even if the rationale of sharing a business interest is offered. Of course, the love that Svetsolav and she had for each other was a blessing. Even so, this steadfast loyalty to Himansu is inexplicable.
Kishwar Desai writes ( p.430):
It was ironic that all these years, she had longed to be looked after. In all her relationships, she had wanted a mentor,a father figure to replace the one she had lost so early — but the men in her life would always lean on her, instead. Somewhere, then, did she always feel unfulfilled? Perhaps it was the loneliness. . . .
I had to take a break from this increasingly bewildering feeling about Devika Rani as to why she stuck it out with Himansu and I was not convinced by the argument that it was loneliness. While on a break, I picked up Arshia Sattar’s lucidly written collection of essays about Maryada, or ‘boundary’ and ‘propriety of conduct’. It is a complicated concept especially since the one version that has held supreme is the idea of ‘maryada purshottama’ or the ‘ideal man’ as the defining virtue of Rama in the Ramayana. But in her essays, Arshia Sattar sets out to explore how the Hindu epics are driven by four ‘operators’ — dharma, karma, vidhi ( fate) and daiva (intervention by the gods). How these especially the various kinds of dharma are fulfilled by individuals by the choices they make. In Maryada ( HarperCollins India) Arshia Sattar tries to delineate the various ways in which these can be achieved or even recognise how others apart from Rama practise this concept. In her concluding remarks in the essay on “Ayodhya’s Wives” where she tries to understand Rama’s arguments about love, she writes:
Rama indicates that Dashratha, too, has acted out of love for Kaikeyi, as Rama is about do now for his wife Sita. Acts of love have to be the most subjective, individual choices that anyone can make, for surely no two people love alike. And yet, Rama feels compelled to transform these acts of will, acts located deep within the sweetest and most expansive spaces of the human heart, into choices that lie within the framework of dharma such as the one that controls him and his father, both as kings and as husbands.
Acting within the constraints of dharma, taking on the roles and walking the paths that have been circumscribed for an individual who is a man, a king, a husband, a son, a brother, minimizes the potential these personal choices have for subversion. …Free will has been eliminated from the discourse of right and wrong, and once again, dharma has been instrumental as the basis not only of action, but also of choice.
It may be a bit far-fetched to think that Devika Rani was at some level following the ideals of the faith she had been brought up in and was whether self-consciously or otherwise fulfilling her dharma. Who knows? And we shall certainly never know. But it is this very fundamental concept of choices that a woman makes that is at the core of the third wave of feminism. Perhaps this angle could have been explored further if Kishwar Desai had chosen to exploit her strength as a novelist to create a thinly veiled fictionalised biography based on facts as David Lodge had done in his novel Author, Author that is about American novelist Henry James. For now I have reservations about The Longest Kiss kind of a biography that oscillates between sharing documentary evidence, especially of the financial aspects of running Bombay Talkies, and ever so often delving into the fiction when imagining the romance between Devika Rani and her husbands, does not quite come together seamlessly. The non-fiction narrative is absorbing to read even if it is based on facts that are never footnoted in the text. So why disrupt the flow of reading with romantic episodes that do not sit well in the text? It does not make any sense even if Devika Rani was a romantic at heart.
Having said that Kishwar Desai’s biography of the actress will be considered as a seminal piece of work even if my Eureka moment of attempting to understand who Devika Rani was by reading some of Arshia Sattar’s brilliant essays. But isn’t that what reading is all about? It raises questions reading a book and that may or may not get answered by reading another one?
And then I heard the sound. The mad, ecstatic music of the lark. I peered into the brightness and saw the small hird straining upwards, its flight not like the easy, carefree swooping of the shallows and swifts. The lark’s flight was all effort, as if hauling itself up by sheer will — a wanting, a yearning. To fly and to sing was work, it was grit. And it was beautiful. And then the lark flew so high it escaped the earth’s gravity, and suddenly flying was no effort at all.
p.96 Anthony McGowan Lark
I absolutely loved these books. I Read Brock, Pike, Rook and Lark in less than a day. Best way to read the stories about the two young boys, Nicholas and Kenny. It is difficult at times for the brothers since Kenny may be the older of two but is also a special needs child.
These are extraordinary stories that simply tell adventures that these young boys have. Nothing in the style of Famous Five or Five Find-Outers. These are stories about ordinary boys from a working class background who are struggling at many levels beginning with the basic one of having a proper meal to eat. Their father is a single parent who has had an alcohol problem but slowly works his way out of it and begins working in a hospital as the equivalent of a ward boy and enjoys his job. It is hard work that does not pay much. His sons learn to fend for themselves like facing up to bullies, looking out for each other, etc. There is so much to gain from these seemingly simply told stories even with their gut wrenching moments.
These are stunning stories as despite reflecting upon the trials and tribulations of the boys, these stories offer hope, joy and the possibility of improving one’s life, step by step, with grit. Life has its hardships but it also has its moments of pure love and happiness. Something that the boys’ father discovered when he met his girlfriend Jenny. The positivity it exuded in the nuclear family had a transformative impact on the three men.
Each story improves upon the previous one but Lark really soars. It is stunning in its detailing of the landscape and its focus upon the brothers relationships. So much is packed in such few pages. Absolutely stunning!
These are stories that have apparently been edited for 9+ and above. The font used is also dyslexic friendly. It is definitely something that children worldwide could benefit from reading.
Buy it. Read it. Share it.
After I wrote this review on Facebook, Anthony McGowan messaged. Here is our conversation:
AM: Oh, what a lovely thing to say – thanks, Jaya! (I’m a bit worried there may be some continuity issues between the different volumes…)
JBR: I doubt there are continuity issues since you have written “bridging passages” in each book. Each passage quickly recaps the previous stories or there is a passing reference to a significant moment. There were only two instances where I wondered what happened and these were — 1) The complete disappearance of Samit and Tina’s former owners, the twins. There is no mention of them in subsequent stories but I merely attributed the lapse to it being a kids story and kids tend to move on. 2) In the previous books it is very clear that Nick and Kenny moved to this present home from another one after their mother left them. It is the same home which their dad visits where the present owners have kindly preserved the correspondence arriving from their mother in Canada. But in Lark there is a mention to the family having lived in many homes previous to this one. Again something that is easily glossed over since this book will probably be read by itself rather than in conjunction with the others. In all likelihood, it will be prescribed by many schools as a compulsory text to be read as there is so much to unpack in this story. So the lapses in some parts of the continutiy are so minor in detail that they hardly impact the storytelling. In fact, the stories are so well told that it is impossible to put the books down. I was just very glad that I had the pile to read, all at once. One of the best ways to end an otherwise very bleak year!
Also sharing the box of Quality Street toffees as an extraordinary treat even when their father was going through financial hardships or having a jam and cheese sandwich were such lovely little details. Btw, the sandwich combination may be yukky for many but it is a combination that my dad intrduced me to and I still enjoy it. It isn’t bad at all!
AM: Oh, drat, well spotted! Those are certainly issues I should have ironed out. I suppose I can blame my narrator, Nicky – he’s looking back on these events from the future and his memory, like mine, is fallible! One thing that might interest you concerns the character of Mog in Pike. He’s actually a major character in my first Barrington Stoke book, The Fall. I leave him in a terribly dark place at the end of that book (it’s easily my most depressing), and I always felt guilty about it. So I gave him salvation in Pike.
JBR: Oh nice! I did wonder about Mog. I wanted to know more about him. Perhaps he can return in a standalone novel of his own? He really has a Dickensian quality about him. Worth exploring.
Maths, at the best of times, is a tough discipline to teach children. Primarily because it is a science with many sub-branches that are clubbed together under one umbrella term — mathematics, and taught to generations and generations of school kids. It is taught in a manner that is befuddling for more students. Teachers are often heard to say that this aspect we can only introduce in another semester or another year. None of it makes sense. Maths is a discipline which has its own internal beauty and the numbers genuinely create stunning patterns. Most often it is sheer hard work that helps a child understand the subject. And then comes along a rare kid like Srinivas Ramanujan who was gifted, a mathematical genius. He lived and breathed maths and numbers. It was the single source of his joy. He cared for little else. All this is brought out simply and gently in a well-told story about the man in Srinivas Ramanujan: Friend of Numbers by poet and children’s author, Priya Narayanan. The illustrations by Satwik Gade complement the text perfectly. No wonder this book won the Neev Book Award 2020.
Merlin Sheldrake, as per his website ( merlinsheldrake.com), is a biologist and a writer with a background in plant sciences, microbiology, ecology, and the history and philosophy of science. He received a Ph.D. in tropical ecology from Cambridge University for his work on underground fungal networks in tropical forests in Panama, where he was a predoctoral research fellow of the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute. Merlin’s research ranges from fungal biology, to the history of Amazonian ethnobotany, to the relationship between sound and form in resonant systems. A keen brewer and fermenter, he is fascinated by the relationships that arise between humans and more-than-human organisms. He is a musician and performs on the piano and accordion. Entangled Life is his first book.
Entangled Life is truly explosive in the manner Sheldrake upends so many longheld beliefs about evolution particularly anthropometric definitions that inevitably position humans always at the top of the intelligence rankings. He busts so many myths about about the importance of microorganisms. Shedding light on the theory of symbiotic relationships between algae and fungi is well enough but to go a step further and say that mitochondria and chlorophyll within a plant cell are the result of an astonishing symbiosis where the bacteria was engulfed the fungi and evolved to the stage is mind blowing. His chapters on truffles and lichens, that he refers to as ‘living riddles’, can be long length documentaries by themselves. The other chapters have much to offer as well in terms of the crucial role fungi can perform in environment preservation such as mycoremediation or cleaning up contaminated ecosystems. Mycofabrication, creating materials by re-composing the types of material such as mycelium foam that is used for packing as is being done by DELL for carting its servers. Mycelium leather can be used for furniture or as designer Stella McCartney is exploring– to create clothes. Researchers at NASA are interested in the potential of mycotecture and the possibility of growing structures on the Moon. These materials have proven to be lightweight, water-resistant and fire-retardant. Also stronger than concrete when subjected to bending forces, and resist compression better than wood framing. They also have a better insulation value than expanded polystyrene, and can be grown in a matter of days into an unlimited number of forms. Another fascinating discipline is bio-computing where slime mould networks are used to solve a range of geometrical problems. There is so much more about fungi Sheldrake shares that is illuminating, most significantly that living organisms have survived billions of years but are an intrinsic part of evolution. He explains this in detail.
Merlin Sheldrake’s extraordinary energy, vivacity and passion for his discipline sparkles through every page of this book. More importantly, his infectious enthusiasm to share his knowledge with the lay reader. It exudes through every word he writes. He is one flamboyant scientist to watch out for in the near future.
His exposition on microbes, the extent to which fungi have spread on earth, his worrying analysis of the impact human intervention has had on the social interrelationships of these microorganisms have to be taken cognizance of. They are alarmingly prescient given the times we live in. He brings in astrobiology, biogeochemistry, climate change, farmers rights and the impact of pharmaceutical corporates upon the farmer and his agrarian knowledge etc. Astonishing breadth of disciplines Sheldrake covers by sharing his passion for fungus. And you know what, it all rings true. There is so much logic in what he shares that at no point it feels that it is a scientist jumping all over the place in excitement. It is worth listening to. Entangled Life borders on the technical but when a specialist’s exuberance is so infectious, it spills over easily to grip the lay reader with similar enthusiasm. So much to learn! I love it.
Merlin Sheldrake is certainly a scientist worth watching out for. He is to biology what William Dalrymple is to history. Hugely informative but both scholars wear their knowledge lightly, making it accessible to a vast circle of readers/fans.
His wife, when she’s with him, will point something out. ‘Doesn’t it make you feel proud?’ she will ask. ‘Not particularly.’ ‘It will hang forever on a wall, your signature beneath it — something you have created that nobody else could have created. And it doesn’t make you –? I mean, how could it not?’ ‘I guess, I don’t see things the way you do.’ ‘You don’t love it? Maybe it’s just as well we didn’t have children. I mean you create something and yet you don’t even love it?’ ‘It? What do you mean by it exactly?’ ‘You know — that barn, this farm, that house–now immortalised.’ ‘Then I guess no, I don’t love it.’ He doesn’t tell her that when he finds it at first, then, yes, all right, he feels it. When he carries it in his head and silently waits for it to take form. When he shyly glances at the sketches he’s made and feels the urge inside him. When it’s there in his head coming out of the dusk. Then it’s love all right. More love than he has ever felt for her, or any other woman.
*** The Narrow Land ( Atlantic Books) by Christine Dwyer Hickey is about ten-year-old Michael, survivor of German concentration camps, and his incredible friendship with the artists Jo and Edward Hopper.
It is an elegant novel that does one of the toughest acts — inserts itself in a marriage, to understand the couple at the heart of this relationship and their creativity. At the same time it creates these unexpected inter-generational alliances, creating spaces for the young and the old to become strong personalities in their own right and not necesarily to be judged from the outside by observers. It is an incredible feeling as a reader to be exposed to the chatter of others, building up the personalities of the protagonists, only to suddenly discover oneself in an intimate space with them, be privy to their thoughts and emotions and the remarkably ordinary universe they inhabit. As if the writer is goading the reader to look beyond the obvious in the story, just as any artist would delve deep within themselves to discover their creativity.
Gorgeous, gorgeous picture book by Richa Jha ( Pickle Yolk Books) —The Middle and illustrated by Eva Ganchez Gomez . A book that empowers, teaches by examples, is imaginative and playful without being dark, foreboding and fearful. It ends as all children’s literature should — with hope, with joy and a song in one’s heart about the future.
Bollywood filmmaker Karan Johar has written his first picture book for children — The Big Thoughts of Little Luv ( Juggernaut Books). It stems from his experience of being a single parent to his twins, Yash and Roohi. In his preface to the story, Karan Johar states that his family debunks the notion of a traditional family as he is a single parent to his children, born through surrogacy. His mother also helps look after the twins. It is a sweet little story that attempts to challenge the very gendered notions of bringing up kids and permitting them their freedom to explore and develop as individuals in their own right.
But I have a couple of quibbles with this book. Children are very sharp and perceptive readers. They are also very literal minded. So when Karan Johar declares that he is a “proud mom”, the illustrations of the woman in the story fulfilling the role of a mother are pretty confusing. Secondly, he insists on referring to his set of “mixed twins” which is wrong. A boy and girl pair of twins is always referred to as fraternal twins. Mixed twins are non-identical twins born to multi-racial families and differ in skin colour and other traits considered to be racial features. This muddle is carried forth in the story where in the opening line Luv says “I am confused. Everyone says my twin, Kusha, and I are just the same.” Again, this is wrong. Fraternal twins are never identical. Boy and girl twins are always fraternal. Same sex twins maybe fraternal as well. Being a fraternal twin myself, these silly lapses in storytelling are plain annoying as it is perpetuating the myth of twins being freak shows and having this uncanny ability of being same-same.
Having said that I am pleased that Karan Johar has made his foray into storytelling for children. Ever since I first read his memoir-essay about learning how to tackle his stammer with his drama teacher, I have always wondered why he never wrote more often. I wish he did. Hope he writes regularly in the future, perhaps for a slightly older readership. He will be excellent at it.
We gave this beauteous book to our daughter as a Christmas present. She loved it. Squealed with delight. She loves poetry. She loves painting. She loves nature. This is a splendidly elegant and quiet mix of all the elements. It gives one immense pleasure, peace and happiness reading it.
For me, the poem and gorgeous illustration of a daisy chain brought back memories of my childhood. My mother had taken my twin and me to the hill station Dalhousie. She had been instructed by my grandfather to pack up his childhood home, Snowdon and Shantikunj, as his mother had recently passed away. It was a bittersweet experience but mum made it memorable by taking us for long walks through the forest, instructing us to keep the doors bolted at night in case the panthers arrived and of course waiting out the tremendous racket the langoor raid created on our tin roofs. A particularly precious memory was seeing mum get very excited when she came across a patch of daisies by the road winding through through forest. So we plonked ourselves in the grassy-daisy patch, by the roadside and strung daisy chains, while madly waving to passers by. It was a fun, fun day.
Jackie Morris and Robert Macfarlane have the incredible gift of making magic together. In their own right they are astonishingly talented souls but together their creativity sparkles and this shines in The Lost Spells ( Hamish Hamilton). They are also very fortunate in their publishers being very generous and supportive in the book production. Little details beginning with the gold foiling on the cover to the richness of colours used, pocket size of the book that is unheard of nowadays as it is not an economically viable size to produce, the gold bookmark stitched into the spine and the sumptuous spread of illustrations is an utter delight to behold.
It is such a precious book at all times but particularly during the pandemic. We could do with such moments of joy!
