Babel, R F Kuang, 2022

Rating: 5/5

“An act of translation is necessarily an act of betrayal” concludes a character in the book and that essentially forms the crux of this novel — it starts with the hope that translation can bridge different cultures, but the protagonists soon discover that the power of words can tear people apart in a colonial framework.

Babel is a historical fantasy novel set in an alternate version of early 19th century England where the Royal Institute of Translation in Oxford (or Babel) drives the country’s technological prowess and colonial ambitions. Translators use silver bars enchanted with “match pairs” in different languages to do so. Robin Swift, Ramy Mirza, Victoire Desgraves and Letty Price enrol at Babel, longing to belong and grappling with their loyalties to their capitalist masters and their people.

Kuang's writing is accessible, simple, and fast-paced, yet insightful with her detailed exploration of the etymology of words in multiple languages. She liberally uses footnotes throughout the book. These range from pure fiction to reality, are often quirky, but significantly add to the book. However, at times, I felt the plot was somewhat formulaic — she has taken standard tropes such as racism (Robin’s real Chinese name is never revealed), capitalism and callousness (the willingness to profit from opium even at the expense of a generation’s well-being), friendship and betrayal, and same-sex love (with  subtle hints) and checked them against her plot. 

The varied tempo of her writing was another slight gripe for me. While the book is somewhat of a page-turner, the story moves along at a very rapid clip in the first third of the book while it gets stretched out in the concluding parts. Nevertheless, as Robin feels as a young child, “what a pleasure it was to hold the weight of an entire, finished story” in my hands!

Pros: Inventive plot, insightful and pacy

Cons: Slightly clichéd, varying pace

The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida, Shehan Karunatilaka, 2022

Rating: 5/5

This book, winner of the 2022 Booker Prize, is an incredible combination of an imaginative and almost wild storyline, abundant humor, a scathing commentary on Sri Lankan politics in the 1980s, and thoughtful character sketching of the main protagonist and supporting actors.

The premise of this book bears some resemblance to George Saunders' 2017 novel, Lincoln in the Bardo, that revolves around Abraham Lincoln's deceased son and various other characters, all situated in a realm between life and rebirth. Saunders incorporates real historical events from Lincoln's life into his narrative. Similarly, this book follows the journey of Maali Almeida, a photographer who wakes up dead and finds himself in the afterlife. He has seven days, or "moons," to move on or risk being trapped in the afterlife. Karunatilaka sets his story against the backdrop of the communal unrest in Sri Lanka during the 1980s.

The plot elements are zany and absolutely delightful and include a 42 storeyed afterlife waiting area, wind as the main form of transport, demons and other Sri Lankan mythological beings, a talking leopard and the important role of an Elvis Presley album. Karunatilaka’s writing is half-part humourous, especially when he comments on everday life in Sril Lanka during that period  — “Lankans can’t queue unless you define a queue as an amorphous curve with multiple entry points”, and half part philosophical — “Evil is not what we should fear. Creatures with power acting in their own interest: that is what should make us shudder”. Karunatilka also uses an interesting second-person narrative style which I thought somehow immerses the reader better into the book. There is a fair amount of reference to Sri Lankan events in the 1980s and the roles that various entities such as the government, the JVP party and the Indian army played but that should not be a constraint for a reader not familiar with these events. Karunatilka also helpfully incorporates a cheatsheet early on in the book to underscrore these entities.

But most importantly, Karunatilaka is able to flesh out the various characters really well — Maali’s lover, his lover’s cousin and father, a dead JVP activist, a blind astrologer, and several others. Maali Almeida’s character development through the events over the seven days as well as through flashbacks, is particularly well done. He is introduced to the reader as “Photographer. Gambler. Slut” right at the beginning of the book but we gradually then begin to understand his motivations and principles as the story progresses towards his inevitable redemption.

Pros: Zany plot, humorous writing, fleshed out characters

Cons: Nothing significant

Sakina's Kiss, Vivek Shanbhag, 2023

Rating: 4/5

I picked up Sakina's Kiss with high expectations after reading Shanbhag's earlier work, Ghachar Ghochar. And for the most part, it did not disappoint. While it may seem like a simple novel, it delves into the complexities of human relationships and explores the themes of gender and a patriarchal society with great nuance.

The book is narrated by Venkataramana, an upper middle-class executive, who’s had a reasonably successful career but has felt the need to conform all through his life — at one point he ruminates that his easy acceptance of his shortened name, Venkat, possibly reflects the firmness of his convictions. The narrative covers just a few days but reflects on multiple generations through Venkataramana's reflections. It starts off like a thriller, with some goons inquiring about his daughter and disrupting his idyllic life. However, the focus of the story is primarily on the relationships among his family members and highlights the growing distance between him, his wife, and his daughter due to his outdated thinking.

Shanbhag's writing style is deceptively simple, infused with humor and earthy metaphors, yet carries an underlying sense of foreboding. Like in his previous novel, Sakina's Kiss is superbly translated from the original Kannada by Srinath Perur. The only aspect that puzzled me was the choice of title. While there is a humorous anecdote in the story that refers to the title, its relevance was not entirely clear to me.

Sakina's Kiss shares many similarities with Shanbhag's previous novel, Ghachar Ghochar. However, while the latter leaves room for contemplation, Sakina's Kiss ends somewhat abruptly. Perhaps this is because the book initially sets up a thrilling plot, but ultimately focuses more on its underlying themes than the story itself.

Pros: Superb writing, nuanced exploration of themes

Cons: Awkward ending