+ The Zoya Factor by Anuja Chauhan: Meh. Remind me never to pick up those much-hyped chick lit things again.
+ The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco: Way too many 'now our characters have a deep and meaningful discussion with other characters', but highly enjoyable. I am, in many ways, the ideal reader of a mystery novel - I never guess the right answer and I always fall for the red herrings, which means, the end always leaves me shocked. Although, I did have my suspicions about You Know Who, and the end filled me with geeky joy.
+ The Last Moghul by William Dalrymple: Very, very good. Dalrymple is as fascinated as I am with the Delhi of yore, and it shows here. Well-researched, and the right mix of facts with narrative. I could have done without the slams on academia - I'm not really well-read when it comes to 1857, especially Delhi in 1857, but his claim that there has been no nuanced historical study of early colonial India and that every historian ever only indulges in jargon and fails to look at the colonizing British from the 'right' perspective is absurd. In fact, his fascination with whom he calls the 'White Mughals' comes with a kind of defensiveness, which I suppose springs from the hostility that he must - as a British journalist/researcher studying colonial India - have faced every now and then (and that he is probably not taken very seriously by academics). Nonetheless, I enjoyed the book, and wish to see more from him in the future (also cannot wait to discuss this with the Little Historian when I get back).
+ Lord of Light by Roger Zelazny: Wow. I'm sorry, this book requires a lot more thought than I am capable of right now. It uses Hindu and Buddhist mythology in a way that left me speechless. I would have been happiest if the protagonists were brown people to begin with (they did not seem to be, from the hints Zelazny leaves us), but that just means that there is an extraordinary degree of appropriation at work, and that, coupled with the story of colonization... And, of course, the way it uses Hinduism's conflict with and appropriation of Buddhism. As I said, it deserves a lot more thought than I'm capable of right now. Also, this Kali? Would have eaten Neil Gaiman's 'Mama-ji' alive, and thank god for that (although, while the book does very good on the culture part, I would have been happier if Zelazny had taken a little more time developing the female characters; not that it has much in the way of character - I read it for the plot). I also loved the disjointed narrative, which, as you know, is one of my bullet-proof kinks.
+ The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco: Way too many 'now our characters have a deep and meaningful discussion with other characters', but highly enjoyable. I am, in many ways, the ideal reader of a mystery novel - I never guess the right answer and I always fall for the red herrings, which means, the end always leaves me shocked. Although, I did have my suspicions about You Know Who, and the end filled me with geeky joy.
+ The Last Moghul by William Dalrymple: Very, very good. Dalrymple is as fascinated as I am with the Delhi of yore, and it shows here. Well-researched, and the right mix of facts with narrative. I could have done without the slams on academia - I'm not really well-read when it comes to 1857, especially Delhi in 1857, but his claim that there has been no nuanced historical study of early colonial India and that every historian ever only indulges in jargon and fails to look at the colonizing British from the 'right' perspective is absurd. In fact, his fascination with whom he calls the 'White Mughals' comes with a kind of defensiveness, which I suppose springs from the hostility that he must - as a British journalist/researcher studying colonial India - have faced every now and then (and that he is probably not taken very seriously by academics). Nonetheless, I enjoyed the book, and wish to see more from him in the future (also cannot wait to discuss this with the Little Historian when I get back).
+ Lord of Light by Roger Zelazny: Wow. I'm sorry, this book requires a lot more thought than I am capable of right now. It uses Hindu and Buddhist mythology in a way that left me speechless. I would have been happiest if the protagonists were brown people to begin with (they did not seem to be, from the hints Zelazny leaves us), but that just means that there is an extraordinary degree of appropriation at work, and that, coupled with the story of colonization... And, of course, the way it uses Hinduism's conflict with and appropriation of Buddhism. As I said, it deserves a lot more thought than I'm capable of right now. Also, this Kali? Would have eaten Neil Gaiman's 'Mama-ji' alive, and thank god for that (although, while the book does very good on the culture part, I would have been happier if Zelazny had taken a little more time developing the female characters; not that it has much in the way of character - I read it for the plot). I also loved the disjointed narrative, which, as you know, is one of my bullet-proof kinks.