It comes across as one of those magnificent ‘epic’ novels, breathtaking in its sweep, breadth, range, and richness of detail. I will freely admit that I was eager to read this latest from Ghosh; The Glass Palace was one of his works I enjoyed very much, but not quite a masterpiece; The Hungry Tide however, the novel preceding this one, was very close to perfection in its form and execution, and I exulted in the reading of it. I definitely hoped (even while trying to quash the hopes lest they failed to be fulfilled) this novel would scale the same dizzying heights – and oh my, what an amazing feeling when one’s hopes and expectations are not only met, but exceeded!

Having finished reading Sea of Poppies, I sincerely believe very few novelists can rival Ghosh at the height of his considerable powers. His work transcends genres, and in this latest, he seems to have unleashed the full might of his literary powers: this novel is dazzling and exquisitely sculpted. Ghosh is simply a consummate storyteller. His language is gorgeous, fluent, sweeping, rich, beautifully controlled, never a heartbeat off pace – in fact, there is not a single faltering note in this very grand symphony, with its vast cast of diverse characters, each so marvelously wrought to life.

The novel pushes off very quickly, it doesn’t appear to have any ‘shallows’, and it was a thrill to be immediately caught up in this novel’s mighty flow, cresting its energy and momentum, until its conclusion deposited me, exhilarated and tinglingly alive. I just cannot wait for an opportunity to reread it again – and again – and again.

And ‘mediocre’ would be a generous estimation of Sidhwa’s An American Brat. The protagonist is Feroza, a 18-year-old Parsee from Lahore. Her mother, fearing Feroza is becoming too timid in her surroundings, sends her to America for 3 months, under the care of her uncle, studying at M.I.T. Feroza’s experiences and encounters form the main plot line of the novel.

There's an excellent short story "The Shelter of the World" in The New Yorker. It's a fictional account of the Emperor Akbar and his relationship with his wife Jodhabai. While Bollywood has its own take of the relationship, Rushdie's interpretation is outstanding. It's lyrical as only Rushdie can do, the characters are complex, sexy, and elusive. He touches on great concepts and emotions that belong to kings, and shows how "uneasy lies the head that wears the crown." Rushdie's brought Jodhabai into a mysterious woman who we all understand.

Rushdie can't stop here. This tale has to continue, so I'm sure this will be part of a larger work!

Although less often explored, this is by no means completely virgin territory; Chitra Divakaruni had explored it in her short story Mrs Dutta Writes a Letter (which appeared in The Unknown Errors of our Lives, 2002), featuring a grandmother from Calcutta moving to her son’s home in San Francisco; and more recently, this theme was also the storyline of Thrity Umrigar’s eloquent novel, If Today be Sweet (2007), which unfolds Tehmina Setha’s cultural journey, making the transition from her lifelong Bombay home to Cleveland, her son’s home, after the death of Tehmina’s beloved husband.

The Times Online UK has a moving excerpt from Benazir Bhutto’s book Reconciliation: Islam, Democracy & the West. Perhaps an eight year exile did mature Benazir and she would have, had she made it into office for the third time, proved to be a leader truly working in the best interests of Pakistan nationally and internationally. It is strange reading this particular piece which enumerates who might want to kill her, her decision to return to Pakistan never the less, and her reaction to the first assassination attempt as well as the reactions of her husband and kids (i.e. her daughter waking up to an insensitive SMS by a never the less concerned friend asking ‘ is your mother all right?”) It is chilling to read how the suspected ‘bomb’ in this attempt is a baby strapped with explosives– whose baby was it? Was it a baby whose mother was forced to give it up or did she do so with pride? Was it a unwanted baby? Often these days one is forced to ask which sort of person willingly risks death for the sake of a cause– Benazir’s cause was a democratic Pakistan and her decision to return home and trust in God admirable, courageous, fanatic…

from the excerpt:

My husband, watching the live coverage on television in Dubai, begged me not to expose myself directly to the crowd from the top of the truck. I said no, that I must be front and greet my people…

I had been traumatized by my father’s arrest, imprisonment and murder, and I know that such mental scars are permanent. I would have done anything to spare my children the same pain that I had undergone – and still feel – at my father’s death. But this was one thing I couldn’t do; I couldn’t retreat from the party and the platform that I had given so much of my life to…

The burning twin towers have become a dual metaphor for both the intra-Islamic debate about the political and social values of democracy and modernity and the looming potential for a catastrophic showdown between Islam and the West. And for both of these epic battles, my homeland of Pakistan has become the epicentre – the ground zero, if you will – of either reconciliation or disaster. rest here

ANTHOLOGY DESCRIPTION & SUBMISSION DETAILS

Working Title:
Brown Souls: Voices of South Asian (North) Americans

Written and Edited by:
Roksana Badruddoja, Ph.D & Shikha Malaviya

Focus of Anthology:
The anthology will feature us, “second generation” South Asian North Americans (women, men, and other forms of identifications) from across nations about the ways in which we develop our identities. In this anthology, “second generation” South Asian North American refers to those who were either born in a North American country or "arrived" by the age of four, raised primarily in North America, and have at least one parent who was born and raised (until at least the age of 18) in the Subcontinent (Bangladesh, Pakistan, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Bhutan, Myanmar, and India). We are also considering submissions from those who fall under "1.5-generation" or people who arrived to North America after age 4 but before age 14, including multiple immigration sites. We consider North America to be made up of the United States, Canada, Mexico, Central America, the Caribbean Islands, and Greenland. We welcome submissions from people of South Asian heritage whose family emigrated to Africa, the United Kingdom, or elsewhere before immigrating to North America.

review

Murli Melwani's *Indian Short Stories: From Colonial Beginnings to
Post-modern Tales* is a historical overview of what he describes as the
"step child of literature", the Indian short story in English. As a genre
short stories are neglected by both publishers and critics, though authors,
including mainstream novelists have experimented with the form, mainly
because of its brevity, and the free play it allows with themes, style and
characterization. A short story can be philosophical, political, lyrical and
subversive. What Melwani suggests is striking; as a literary form it is
especially suitable to deal with the wide range of Indian experiences, so
that thematically it is more expansive and faithful to the nuances of a
multicultural, diverse nation like India than the Indian novel in English.
At a time when the Indian novel in English is being noticed in the literary
scenario, winning both awards and accolades, this seems a timely critical
interjection. Melwani makes it very clear that he is not discussing individual stories, so
that each chapter is period based and gives us brief pen portrait of authors
and their works, ranging from established writers, to lesser known names, to
those whom we discover for the first time. To that extent there is nothing
predictable in the choice of works and the way they have been placed in the
historical, socio-political context. The analysis never palls because each
author, and the list is comprehensive and wide ranging, is accompanied by
sharp, insightful comments on different aspects of writing and reading.

From the interview:

‘I am not disenchanted with publishing. My last novel The Triple Mirrors of the Self came out in 1992. It was a complete flop. I had thought that it was my most ambitious novel, but it was not even reviewed. It sold about 200 copies in the London edition. My publishers were supportive. They pushed it and tried to revive it by bringing out a paperback edition.’
‘When a book dies this way, it becomes public knowledge. The novels I have written since then are with my agent and nobody is reading them. An American publisher looked at Triple Mirrors and said that it is too good to be published. The British publisher told me, ‘Zulfi you know what your problem is? You don’t write badly enough!’ So what am I supposed to do, he muses questioningly.'

From Uzma's article:

The moral justification of 19th- and 20th-century colonialism was civilizing the native. The moral justification of 21st-century imperialism is liberating the native. Britain's jewel in the crown, the Indian subcontinent, is today being secured by those Asian-British writers who espouse the last line of Monica Ali's novel Brick Lane: "'This is England,' she said. 'You can do whatever you like.'"
Ali's ending clinched the political banner sewn in the pages of the book – England equals freedom – though not until the final page was it made explicit. But novelists ought to be challenging slogans, not trumpeting them. If a banner is waved, it should be the banner of scepticism. What if Nazneen's sister in Bangladesh had found a good-looking young man to hump, dumping her stodgy husband in the process, and Nazneen had been locked in a room and raped by a racist white man who pimped her to more racist white men, and she'd begged for freedom only to be told, 'This is England. We can do whatever we like"?

Uzma's third novel The Geometry of God is available, so far, in India.

While it is a valid claim that the Bhutto surname gave Benazir a political leg up, it is also true that she was bold and brave in her own right for she stood-- the lone woman-- in rooms often packed with men only, the lone woman at a dais speaking to crowds of men only, a woman talking of matters predominantly associated with the male domain, and so challenged the stereotypes of 'what women anywhere can do', as well what a Muslim woman is capable of and, additionally, the stereotype of Muslim societies being naturally misogynistic.

Politically Benazir 'grew me up' . When she first stood for elections, I would have voted for her purely because she was a woman but, by the time I was old enough to vote, her terms in office had taught me to vote, not for gender, but for the best candidate. In her 1988 memoir Daughter of the East, a young Benazir talks of coming of age both as a woman and politically: growing up a Bhutto, living through her father's hanging by General Zia, her own years incarcerated in solitary confinement under General Zia's rule...I read Benazir's memoir when I was a teenager and have been meaning to reread it since. It will be with great sadness that I will do so now. Whether one liked or disliked Benazir's politics, whether one believed she truly cared about Pakistan or was just another politician greedy for power, for Pakistanis everywhere it is surreal that Benazir is gone, just like that, at age 54 when much of Pakistan was expecting that, in a few months, she would get yet another chance to lead Pakistan.

Here MicroPakistan reviews an updated edition (April 2007) of Daughter of the East, and HarperCollins is now planning a February 2008 release of Benazir's new book, 'Reconciliation: Islam, Democracy and the West '.