Aravind Adiga is at it again. Same place, very similar story, it almost reads like a prequel to its much acclaimed and award winning debut The White Tiger. The protagonist Chenayya in The Elephant is a cart puller who seems just like the father of Balram Halwai in The White Tiger. The story has the obligatory man shitting in the open, and to top it off, it has a plum prostitute doing her trade in the open got smeared with cow dung, so bad that the dung got all over her face and into her mouth. So Adiga has a fondness to use animal names as his book or novel titles. I surmise the title The Elephant is an allusion to the stupendous injustice in India.
The Elephant is full of youthful angst and indignation. Just like The White Tiger, except it's much shorter. It appears in The New Yorker.
Showing posts with label Aravind Adiga. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Aravind Adiga. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Thursday, December 11, 2008
The White Tiger
Can you keep a white tiger in a rooster coop? No. Not according to first time author Aravind Adiga, who won the 2008 Booker Prize award with his debut novel The White Tiger.
The story is about one man's revolution against his world, as told through a series of letters written within a week, addressed from Balram Halwai, the protagonist, the once poor honest country-mouse, the chauffeur, the social entrepreneur and ultimately the rich business entrepreneur, to the Chinese Premier, Wen Jiabao who is embarking on a business trip to visit India. Adiga, in searing indignation and raging dark humor, through the narrative of Balram, exploits and magnifies all the ills he finds in present day India. In the end, one is left without a choice but to sympathize and empathize with Balram even when he does the unthinkable; a revolution is not a dinner party as Mao once eloquently put it and somebody has to sacrifice, and when that sacrifice happens it's better him than me or so must Balram thinks.
Some have criticized his characters are caricatures of the Indian society and his lack of in-depth understanding of India renders his social commentary shallow and superficial. But in his defense, I don't think this is meant to be an account of true events and I actually appreciate the heightened reality of his characters and its feverish kaleidoscopic characterization of India, they go well with the author's pizazz and his wry sense of humor.
It is entertainment with some thought-provoking message. What more can you ask for?
Further readings from real reviews from both sides of the Atlantic.
The story is about one man's revolution against his world, as told through a series of letters written within a week, addressed from Balram Halwai, the protagonist, the once poor honest country-mouse, the chauffeur, the social entrepreneur and ultimately the rich business entrepreneur, to the Chinese Premier, Wen Jiabao who is embarking on a business trip to visit India. Adiga, in searing indignation and raging dark humor, through the narrative of Balram, exploits and magnifies all the ills he finds in present day India. In the end, one is left without a choice but to sympathize and empathize with Balram even when he does the unthinkable; a revolution is not a dinner party as Mao once eloquently put it and somebody has to sacrifice, and when that sacrifice happens it's better him than me or so must Balram thinks.
Some have criticized his characters are caricatures of the Indian society and his lack of in-depth understanding of India renders his social commentary shallow and superficial. But in his defense, I don't think this is meant to be an account of true events and I actually appreciate the heightened reality of his characters and its feverish kaleidoscopic characterization of India, they go well with the author's pizazz and his wry sense of humor.
It is entertainment with some thought-provoking message. What more can you ask for?
Further readings from real reviews from both sides of the Atlantic.
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