Rambles, then Shantaram
After creating the list of books in my previous post, I went to the bookstore to purchase a few and begin my winter vacation reading. Sure, I could have bought my books on Amazon from the comfort of my studio apartment, without having to brave the windy cold New York streets in December. But buying books from Amazon requires a certainty of purpose that I did not possess. My list was not set in stone, and the meandering halls of a bookstore, with all their options and stories and adventures, were great antidotes to the single-minded focus that had driven my finals studying for a solid month.
So, anyway, I went to the bookstore. And discovered that most books on my list were only available in hardcover. Don’t get me wrong: there’s nothing wrong with buying books in hardcover. I myself have done it plenty of times in the past. It’s just that when one has a book habit like mine, certain guidelines need to be followed or else total chaos will quickly ensue. One of these guidelines is to buy only paperback books so that I don’t spend too much money. Another one, for example, is to buy only one book at a time so that I don’t accumulate a bookshelf full of unfinished projects.
So, anyway, I did not end up buying those books below. Instead I limited myself to one paperback I’d heard was a great relaxing and fun read: Shantaram. And I have to say that it fulfilled all expectations (no more, no less). What follows is a brief review of the book. I don’t include any real spoilers, but if you’re sensitive to this sort of thing you can go back to surfing the web now.
This is the story of a man whose life fell apart while he was living in Australia. He became a junkie, resorted to armed robbery and other crimes, and was sent to jail. Amazingly he escaped from a maximum security prison and made his way to Bombay, where the adventure in the book begins. He explores the city, befriends the locals, lives in a local village and learns the local language all within the first couple years. He lives and works in the worst slums in Bombay for years. Gets thrown in prison, become a head councilman in the Bombay mafia. Goes to Afghanistan to fight the Soviets, and treks his way through the mountains to return to Bombay. Reading this book, I constantly marveled at the fact that this is based, in large part, on a true story.
Shantaram is a long but fun read, and a very good book. It is written fairly well. That is to say that the author is able to effectively and compellingly convey his ideas on paper. He does not have the mastery of the English language of, say, Rushdie or McCarthy or McEwan – this is not a classic book, by any means. He tends to be verbose, and some details are over-the-top and unnecessary. However I still think it’s a very good book, because there is something to be said for the sprawling majesty of a great story. The book ducks and weaves, leaving very few dull moments through its 700+ pages, and constantly engages the reader with personal asides from the author. The attempts at philosophy in the latter half of the book are a bit weak and feel somewhat forced, but other than that I have to say the story is very entertaining. Storytelling is an art that is difficult to master, but here it’s on full display.
After creating the list of books in my previous post, I went to the bookstore to purchase a few and begin my winter vacation reading. Sure, I could have bought my books on Amazon from the comfort of my studio apartment, without having to brave the windy cold New York streets in December. But buying books from Amazon requires a certainty of purpose that I did not possess. My list was not set in stone, and the meandering halls of a bookstore, with all their options and stories and adventures, were great antidotes to the single-minded focus that had driven my finals studying for a solid month.
So, anyway, I went to the bookstore. And discovered that most books on my list were only available in hardcover. Don’t get me wrong: there’s nothing wrong with buying books in hardcover. I myself have done it plenty of times in the past. It’s just that when one has a book habit like mine, certain guidelines need to be followed or else total chaos will quickly ensue. One of these guidelines is to buy only paperback books so that I don’t spend too much money. Another one, for example, is to buy only one book at a time so that I don’t accumulate a bookshelf full of unfinished projects.
So, anyway, I did not end up buying those books below. Instead I limited myself to one paperback I’d heard was a great relaxing and fun read: Shantaram. And I have to say that it fulfilled all expectations (no more, no less). What follows is a brief review of the book. I don’t include any real spoilers, but if you’re sensitive to this sort of thing you can go back to surfing the web now.
This is the story of a man whose life fell apart while he was living in Australia. He became a junkie, resorted to armed robbery and other crimes, and was sent to jail. Amazingly he escaped from a maximum security prison and made his way to Bombay, where the adventure in the book begins. He explores the city, befriends the locals, lives in a local village and learns the local language all within the first couple years. He lives and works in the worst slums in Bombay for years. Gets thrown in prison, become a head councilman in the Bombay mafia. Goes to Afghanistan to fight the Soviets, and treks his way through the mountains to return to Bombay. Reading this book, I constantly marveled at the fact that this is based, in large part, on a true story.
Shantaram is a long but fun read, and a very good book. It is written fairly well. That is to say that the author is able to effectively and compellingly convey his ideas on paper. He does not have the mastery of the English language of, say, Rushdie or McCarthy or McEwan – this is not a classic book, by any means. He tends to be verbose, and some details are over-the-top and unnecessary. However I still think it’s a very good book, because there is something to be said for the sprawling majesty of a great story. The book ducks and weaves, leaving very few dull moments through its 700+ pages, and constantly engages the reader with personal asides from the author. The attempts at philosophy in the latter half of the book are a bit weak and feel somewhat forced, but other than that I have to say the story is very entertaining. Storytelling is an art that is difficult to master, but here it’s on full display.
posted by slithytoves at 9:34 PM
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