Subscribe to Desicritics
Book Review: Sacred Games, Vikram Chandra
Ashok Banker
Push away your cup of tea, fold away the Sunday papers, get off your comfortable couch or bed, smooth down your crumpled pj's, and put your hands together. This is a moment worth marking. It's a landmark in the history of Indian English literature--and in the history of literature itself. Decades from now, we'll be looking back at the roster of great contemporary novels, and the title Sacred Games will trip off our tongues blithely and reverentially. So let's hear it for Vikram Chandra. He's just written one of the most masterful works of literature, a great crime thriller, a magnificent city novel, and an exploration of the Indian psyche at the close of the millennium that has never been attempted before on this scale, and has certainly never been accomplished this masterfully.
This is a big novel in every sense. 900 pages in full-size hardcover. That's impressive by any standards. But unlike so many other doorstopper tomes of this heft and size, there's never a sense that the editor was MIA. On the contrary, every page is a minor miracle of style, empathy and insight. The obvious comparison, of course, is Chandra's namesake Vikram Seth's A Suitable Boy, which taxed readers' wrists and sprained brains with its staggering 1359-page bulk, a record for a one-volume novel. The comparison is a fair one, if only for reasons of word-length and the implied authorial ambition that goes hand in hand. A big novel is almost always an announcement by an author: "This is it, my big book, my breakout title, my blockbuster."
In that broadest sense, you could, I suppose compare A Suitable Boy and Sacred Games. Both are clear declarations of literary chutzpah, massively bold word monsters flexing their prodigious size to muscle their way into the literary canon.
But while A Suitable Boy was a social novel of manners in the fashion of Jane Austen and Anthony Trollope--by Seth's own admission--Sacred Games is a different breed of steroid-pumped book altogether. Firstly, A Suitable Boy, in my opinion at least, was best read in short bursts, and often smelled like the work of an eloquent young adonais madly in love with his own powdered-and-perfumed self (the titular character was a thinly veiled alter-ego of Seth himself, one suspected) and obsessed with a British hangover: At its most sugary, it was like the longest Harlequin romance ever written, grotesquely transplanted to post-Independent India. And the first 400 pages were like a book unto themselves. Seth might have been better off with less ambition--and a lot less sugar!
Sacred Games, in stark contrast, is a richly imagined and perfectly rendered realistic novel of the streets, the gullees and the back alleys, the gutters and the chawls, police stations and bastis, slums and skyscrapers. This is a world straight out of Ram Gopal Varma films--the foul Bumbaiya tapori argot, the rough characters, gritty locales, blood, booze and broads. But no Varma production could ever hope to delve so deeply into the psyche of the characters as Chandra does, to show us not only protagonist policeman Sartaj Singh (who first appeared in a story in Chandra's collection Love and Longing in Bombay), but also his assistant, and Singh's mother's recollections of Punjab and Partition, as well as an extended autobiographical rumination by Ganesh Gaitonde, perhaps the most mesmerizing character study in the book, and brilliantly achieved vignettes and flashes of hundreds of minor characters and man-on-the-street sketches.
Then there's the setting. Bombay. More than a setting. It's the book itself. Chandra brings it brilliantly, deeply alive. In all her foulness, filth and stained beauty. Early on, you see how easily he could have made this just a crime novel--a very good one at that. But within a handful of pages, you see how he's reaching far beyond genre, beyond literary categories and boundaries. He's reaching, you realize, with a lump in your throat, for life itself. And, amazing to behold, he actually comes close to grasping that slippery wrist. Not through verisimilitude--if anything, at first, the curious use of perfect English and Hindi abuses makes for a jarring, disorienting read. But once you understand what he's attempting--to transcribe the Bambaiya idiom in literary English while retaining the syntax and vocabulary of the characters--you begin to see the lines of beauty etched into the face of this aging courtesan. No other novel has attempted so much, and achieved it all so gracefully, elegantly, quietly.
Chandra coaxes a life's best performance out of this bar dancer of a city, this mad metropolis with a thousand eyes stitched across her undulating body, this profane and obscene work of art crafted by countless street artists, and what a performance it is. Sacred Games unfolds in prose just right for its purposes, foul language that has never felt so right and so vital, exterior descriptions and interior monologues that are as real as your own thoughts and observations, building like a Virar Fast with a bomb planted in the First Class Compartment. This is a great novel, perhaps the greatest book on Bombay ever written. Certainly a contender for the Great Indian Novel. It deserves a standing ovation and a crisp street salute. Smartly done, bhidu.
Book Review: Sacred Games, Vikram Chandra
RSS:
- Subscribe to RSS 2.0 feeds for:
- » Comments on this article
- » Culture
- » Culture: Books - Fiction
- » Culture: Desi
- » Culture: Society
- » Culture: Urban
- » Desicritics.org articles by Ashok Banker
- » All Review articles
- » All Desicritics.org articles
Aaman
URL
September 11, 2006
01:40 AM
How many Great Novels does Bombay need, or have? I'm still waiting for the Great Bangalore Novel:)
Haven't bought this one yet, plowing through so many others that I've deferred it for the nonce, but the temptation is strong...
Mayank Austen Soofi
URL
September 11, 2006
01:45 AM
The great Bombay book will always remain 'The Moor's Last Sigh'. Period.
Mayank Austen Soofi
URL
September 11, 2006
02:38 AM
Ashok, I'm pleased that you seemed to have such a pleasant time reading the latest Vikram Chandra. But your opinions of Mr Seth's 'Suitable Boy' have left me mildly agitated. It is amazing that a same book could leave such different impressions on different readers.
When I read 'A Suitable Boy' for the first time, which was around five years back, I was completely captivated by its characters, its setting, its numerous and richly described themes - sometimes Jane Austenish and sometimes Dickenisan. I believed that the novel did not leave a scope for any improvement. It was perfect. Yes, the book did tax my wrists, but at no point did it sprain my brain.
I read the book for the fourth time early this year and am still extremely fond of it. Besides, unlike you, I can not savor 'A Suitable Boy' in 'short bursts'. While I recognize that the chief families in the novel belonged to the upper class society of post-independent India (North India that is) who lived a British-influenced life, I never imagined the book to be too 'perfumed and powdered'.
I also fear that you are wrong in suspecting the titular character as a thinly veiled alter-ego of Mr Seth himself. If we understand 'A Suitable Boy' as the character who gets to marry the heroine - Lata Mehra - in the end, then it was Haresh, the shoe company executive. The character which Mr Seth sketched on himself was actually Amit Chatterjee - the England educated poet of Calcutta, who was in love with Lata but was rejected. Hardly a suitable boy (the titular character) than!
Further, you have described 'A Suitable Boy' as a romance 'grotesquely transplanted to post-Independent India'. I was pained reading such a fiercely negative description. I fear that reading the novel in 'short bursts' did not do you credit. The novel was hardly a romance. It was true that Lata had a short-lived romantic entanglement with a Muslim boy - Kabir - but she had swiftly dissociated herself following her mother's objections. After that romance fizzled out from Lata's life.
Later the chief theme centered on the proceedings of rituals that serve as a countdown to a traditional Indian arranged marriage; and not to romance. As a matter of fact Lata never even falls in love with Haresh - the winning suitor. He just seemed the most stable and sensible guy to spend the rest of life with - hardly the stuff romances are made of!
In 'A Suitable Boy', there was no romance and it did not really have a romantic ending. Though there was much comedy, tragedy and despair running throughout the thick novel.
Lastly, you accused Mr Seth of being too sugary and having too much of ambition while writing this epic. These are, of course, strictly your opinions. As of me, I feel there are only three great novels, so far, that define the literary milestones of modern Indian literature in English:
Midnight's Children
A Suitable Boy
The God of Small Things
As for Mr Chandra's new novel, I'm now hesitant to trust in your generous recommendations. Thankyou.
Aaman
URL
September 11, 2006
02:41 AM
Mayank, that can be a full post in it's own right.
Book opinions are wide and varied, as any reader would aver.
The Buddha Smiled
URL
September 11, 2006
02:51 AM
Mayank,
I'd have to agree with Aaman on this one - especially since I'd have to take violent exception of your inclusion of GOST (a novel I cannot stand!) and the absence of "The Shadow Lines"... so let's agree to disagree on this one...
As an aside, I just picked Sacred Games this weekend - it will be my Tube reading for the next few days as I heft it back and forth between home and work...am looking forward to it, especially since I liked Red Earth & Pouring Rain so much...
Mayank Austen Soofi
URL
September 11, 2006
03:01 AM
Aaman, should I sumbit it as a seperate post than?
And The Buddha Smiled: Vikram Chandra is a very good writer. His sister is also good. Book opinions are varied. That is also true. Good luck with your tube reading.
Aaman
URL
September 11, 2006
03:02 AM
Sure, you might want to expand it to a larger analysis of the nature of book opinions, or perhaps a fuller review of Suitable Boy - your call
Mayank Austen Soofi
URL
September 11, 2006
03:04 AM
No. That would be a different ballgame alltogether. This post would only be a rebuttal to Mr Banker's opinions on 'A Suitable Boy'.
Ashok Banker
URL
September 11, 2006
03:10 AM
Mayank, I think Aaman and The Buddha Smiled say it well: Book reviews are wide and varied. But just to clarify one point: When I say I read A Suitable Boy in 'short bursts', I meant short bursts of about 300-400 pages at a time! I read Sacred Games the same way.
Aaman is right, your comments are interesting enough to expand to a post in its own right. Your call, of course. I enjoy dissent and am always open to differing points of view. I like two of the books you mention, but would hesitate to include GOST in that shortlist--or even to categorically list just three books. When I refer to Sacred Games as the Great Bombay Novel, I don't mean it's the ONLY great Bombay novel, that's a phrase one uses--the Great American Novel, the Great New York/Bombay/London novel, etc. You really can't rank writers, artists, books, etc, with numbers, IMHO. The beauty of our age is that all works can co-exist simultaneously--there is no 'competition' either in terms of sales or choice. We can read two widely differing works and love both, hate both, or any combination thereof.
My only intent in comparing A Suitable Boy with Sacred Games was due to their length and international hype. I welcome your comments and respect your opinion--there's more than enough room in this world for all opinions, and no one (or two, or three) are the 'right' ones. That way lies fascist intolerance, and I don't think book reviewing lends itself to Nazism! :~)
Mayank Austen Soofi
URL
September 11, 2006
03:34 AM
Ashok, considering that how much contempt I hold for people like Bal Thackeray, Narendra Modi and LK Advani, I can only share your apprehensions regarding fascist intolerance. Different opinions, on the other hand, only enrich the debate and make all of us a bit wiser.
As to whether book reviews can lead to dangers of Nazism: Those who wish for it are always in quest of excuses. And book reviews come quite handy.
Remember, Salman Rushdie fatwa started after the publication of journalist Madhu Jain's review of 'The Satanic Verses' in the India Today magazine in 1987. Clearly, danger and its opportunities lurk everywhere....smile....
Ashok Banker
URL
September 11, 2006
04:05 AM
True, although it was a Hyderabad professor who first clamoured for the fatwah. The book review made it redundant for said professor--and most who followed in his fanatical path--to actually read the book. Which prompted me to comment in a column back then (I was a prolific columnist at the time) that there are two kinds of readers: Those who read books, and those who read book reviews.
Look forward to your reviews then, Mayank. And let me sayy, I've often found that coming back to a after a while can change one's perspective completely. If you write a revisitation of your views on A Suitable Boy, I would be more than willing to reread the book in light of those comments and reconsider it accordingly. I don't think in fixed and unmoving ways, especially when it comes to books. Although I always reserve the right to state my own opinion strongly and clearly. Vive La Difference! :~)
Mayank Austen Soofi
URL
September 11, 2006
04:12 AM
Ashok, the review will be for some other time. Right now I'm just honing up my rebuttal. Smile.
kaveetaa kaul
URL
September 11, 2006
05:25 AM
enjoyed the sparring..spurred enough into reading the book.
The great Bombay novel
September 25, 2006
05:08 AM
Another great Bombay novel: The Moor's Last Sigh by Rushdie.
Add your comment
(Or ping: http://desicritics.org/tb/2969)