Sidharth Vardhan

Helen Keler

(A review of ‘The story of my life’ by Helen keler.) “Have you ever been at sea in a dense fog, when it seemed as if a tangible white darkness shut you in, and the great ship, tense and anxious, groped her way toward the shore with plummet and sounding-line, and you waited with beating heart for something to happen? I was like that ship before my education began, only I was without compass or sounding-line, and had no way of knowing how near the harbour was. “Light! give me light!” was the wordless cry of my soul I had long intended to read biography of Helen Keller. (Have you ever wondered how when we use first names when talking about characters but last name when talking authors?). Helen wrote this biography at age of 22 (two years before getting her graduation) – so most of it is about her childhood memories. Her communication with outside world was limited to touch and smell which wouldn’t have been enough, if it wasn’t for her teacher. “I felt approaching footsteps, I stretched out my hand as I supposed to my mother. Some one took it, and I was caught up and held

The Lonely Hunters

(The review of ‘The Heart is a lonely hunter’ by Carson McCullers) “The way I need you is a loneliness I can not bear.” Male whales attract their partners by making voices called ‘songs’. The pitch of the sound is normally below 40 Hz, inaudible to human ears. Female whales of each kind will recognise songs of their own kin. Now, there is believed to be an individual whale (only one of its kind) whose voice has been heard in Pacific Ocean at 52 hertz. Ever since 80s, his lonely songs have been heard – seeking, asking uselessly, year after year, for a companion in an ocean full of whales. This image of this lonely animal is as close as I can get to creating an impression of the book. Four characters in this novel – a teenager girl, a diner, a doctor, a labour worker aren’t much better than 52hertz whale. They too have their songs sentiments and they too have gone a long time of their life in lonely hunt for someone who can understand them. For different reasons, they are all very alone. The diner is struggling with loneliness of a childless, unhappy marriage, the labour worker

Hadrian

(Review of ‘Memoirs of Hadrian’ – a novel by Marguerite Yourcenar 5*/5* ) “But books lie, even those that are most sincere.” It is supposed to be historically most accurate novel – I can’t judge about that but I’m willing to take the word of knowledgeable people on that. What is so far more incredible is the way the author managed to make herself invisible in her work – you know how novels have their authors’ personality in them. You can’t normally come out of a novel without having some idea of author’s personality. Narrators of Proust and Celine look like so much like their mirror images; in other cases it is true to a lesser extent – but not in this case. The only thing you will have guessed about Yourcenar by reading MoH, is that she is genius. To create this believable a first person narrator is genius enough, but to recreate a fictional account of a real historical figure who lived in another age, was of other sex, much older  – well, we need a new word here. If I believed in spirits, I could have asserted that Hadrian’s had possessed Yourcenear. An innocent reader can easily led

The nights of wonder

(A review of ‘[Arabian Nights’ –  5*5*) A Story to Save a Live The beauty of the stories and the poetry of the thought that most destructive demons can be tamed back with a few stories was fascinating to me even when I first saw the serialized version on tv. What I didn’t realized was that the stories Scheherazade, that great goddess of story tellers and inventor of cliff-hangings, told the king weren’t as random but had an order in themselves. This book has made Scherzade my favorite superhero – superhero was the word we use for one who risk one’s life for others, don’t we? I mean we like Doctor Who for he won’t use weapons – and yet the enemies he fought weren’t in any way real. What Scherzade had to fight was real, and after centuries of her single victory continues unfortunately to remain real – lack of trust among sexes. Sheriyar is misogyny humanized. There is another famous collection of stories called ‘Tota Maine ke kise’ from same regions (Iraq, Iran, India etc) which comprise of a parrot and she-parrot who are in love. The frame story is simple. The parrot would say mynah is sure

The misery of Atonement – a review of Ian McEwan book

(A review of ‘Atonement’, a novel by Ian McEwanNominated for Booker Prize in 1998first written on October 25, 2013) “It was common enough, to see so much death and want a child.” Ian McEwan (Atonement) We each live in our own world – and worlds of children are so far simpler than those of grown-ups; the friction between these worlds allows chances for misunderstandings. McEwan, who seems to have a thing for misunderstandings, banks on them for the beautiful story. A still from the movie based on the book with the same name The number of coincidences in the first part could have looked objectionable in hands of some other author. Robbie suddenly finds his life thrown off the track and is made to bear punishment for a crime he never did – that must be how most of Europe have felt during second world war. A child’s innocent mistake destroys future of a young man. But scratch the surface there – was she as innocent as she claimed? Or was there malice, at least at subconscious level? She repents as she realizes her mistake, but the wrong done can never be corrected fully. It is so far easier to

Our lady Chatterlay

“Sex is just another form of talk, where you act words instead of saying them. Lawerence’s last novel, Lady Chatterley’s Lover is one of most challenged works– on account of its use of then unprintable words. Its free publishing was one of the main events of sexual revolution of 1960s. And okay, I mean it is a great book but what will you say to a book that has conversations like these: ‘Well, young man, and what about my daughter?’ The grin flickered on Mellors’ face. ‘Well, Sir, and what about her?’ ‘You’ve got a baby in her all right.’ ‘I have that honour!’ grinned Mellors. ‘Honour, by God!’ Sir Malcolm gave a little squirting laugh, and became Scotch and lewd. ‘Honour! How was the going, eh? Good, my boy, what?’ ‘Good!’ ‘I’ll bet it was! Ha-ha! My daughter, chip of the old block,what! I never went back on a good bit of fucking, myself. Though her mother, oh, holy saints! … Did I tell you the daughter in question is already married to another man? And believe me, it is a very modest sample compared to what this book contains. Emma and Connie Connie Chatterley sometimes reminds you of

Nihlism : Céline Style

(Review of Journey to end of Night, a novel by Louis-Ferdinand Céline – 4*/5*)   “The sadness of the world has different ways of getting to people, but it seems to succeed almost every time.” “When you start hiding from people, it’s a sign that you’re afraid to play with them. That in itself is a disease. We should try to find out why we refuse to get cured of loneliness. “ Reading Celine’s ‘Journey to the end of Night’ is like listening to a drunk old man – the kind one sees in those cowboy movies, telling you why his life sucks. He can’t talk about a woman without talking about her legs and there are women he mentions just so as to talk about their body. Then there are a few racist remarks as well. But it is not to say that he is treating others better – there isn’t a character in the whole book who hasn’t been joked about. Céline is that kind of guy – he just can’t have an acquaintance you don’t want to run away from or a boss who don’t give all the negative connotations of the word and so on. He may

Bostan of Saadi

(Review of bostan of Saadi 4*/5*) Travelers bring sugar-candy from Egypt as a present to their friends. Although I have no candy, yet have I words that are sweeter. A sagacious youth of noble family landed at a seaport of Turkey, and, as he displayed piety add wisdom, his baggage was deposited in a mosque. One day the priest said to him, “Sweep away the dust and rubbish from the mosque.” Immediately, the young man went away and no one saw him there again. Thus, did the elder and his followers suppose he did not care to serve. The next day, a servant of the mosque met him on the road and said, “Thou didst act wrongly in thy perverse judgment. Knowest thou not, O conceited youth, that men are dignified by service?” Sorrow fully, the youth began to weep. “O soul-cherishing and heart-illuminating friend!” He answered, “I saw no dirt or rubbish in that holy place but mine own corrupt self. Therefore, I retraced my steps, for a mosque is better cleansed from such.” Written in thirteenth century, the book is full of similar fables and words of wisdom written in verse. I had no intention of taking away

Wole Soyinka’s ‘Of Africa’

(Review by Sidharth Vardhan’Of Africa’ by Wole Soyinka First written on October 14, 2015) The title itself was fascinating to me. Not ‘Of Nigeria’ but ‘Of Africa’. Anybody who talks of thinking beyond political boundaries quickly gets my respect. Africa’s Political map – notice political boundaries are straight lines. “The rise of extreme nationalism, often developing into outright xenophobia, barely disguised under legislative formalisms that never name their real goal – exclusion – is a symptom of the increase, not decrease, of the we-or-they mentality that appears to be sweeping across the globe.” Wole Soyinka (Of Africa) He thinks that national boundaries in Africa are all fiction. Of course, all national boundaries are fictional; but in Africa the situation is made obvious by the fact that it is a fiction created by outsiders: “Boundaries imply exclusion, and it is undeniable that this tainted seed of guaranteed future conflicts on the continent was sown at the infamous Berlin Conference of 1884.” The thing is made clearer if you were to look at political map of Africa. You would notice many national boundaries to be straight lines, as if drawn by a ruler. That is exactly what Colonial powers did in Berlin

Gitanjali: Beautiful Songs

(Review of Gitanjali by Rabindranath Tagore – 4*/5*) The word Gitanjali means devotion songs and these are exactly that: “I came out alone on my way to my tryst. But who is this that follows me in the silent dark? I move aside to avoid his presence but I escape him not. He makes the dust rise from the earth with his swagger; he adds his loud voice to every word that I utter. He is my own little self, my lord, he knows no shame; but I am ashamed to come to thy door in his company.” There is something so pure in the very concept of bhakti – the submissive devotion to god; something so poetical, that it shall touch your heart even if you were skeptic, atheist or simply indifferent, as can be found in Tagore’s collection of devotion poems, Gitanjali. Perhaps it is complete lack of self-ness, of pride – an effort to gain innocence of a child. “They (children) build their houses with sand and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep. Children have their play on the seashore of worlds.” I don’t

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