Foundation, Isaac Asimov, 1951

Rating: 5/5

“Foundation” is the first part of a trilogy and comprises five short stories (four of which were published several years before the book) which are interrelated and fit nicely as a single novel. The novel is based approximately 50,000 years in the future when the Galactic Empire presides over twenty-five million planets inhabited by a quintillion human beings. Hari Seldon, a psychohistorian (an imaginary branch of science that predicts future events), foresees the demise of the Empire within five centuries and a period of thirty thousand years to rebuild a second empire, which he hopes to shrink to just a thousand years. The administrators of the empire send him away to a planet called Terminus at the fringes of the galaxy to work on his plans along with a hundred thousand people. He creates the first Foundation there while a second one (which is not discussed much in this book) is set at the other end of the galaxy. The rest of the book covers the next 150 years and is about the efforts of Salvor Hardin - mayor of Terminus, Hober Mallow - a trader, and others to ensure Seldon’s plans are executed, making the Foundation more and more powerful. Quotations from the “Encyclopaedia Galactica” fill the reader in, as the story leaps through time.

“Foundation” has many of the typical elements of science fiction. It is set in a futuristic world and has tropes such as hyperspace travel, ultra-wave beams, televisors and others. But other than that, it is also a commentary on human psychology and behaviour — the secondary role that nature plays to technological advancement (the key city of Trantor has 40 billion people but no greenery), the fall of an empire due to rising bureaucracy and reducing curiosity, the use of religion to control humans and the eventual might of economic power over religion. And this commentary provides the book with a soul and makes it interesting reading. It is light on the action elements that we have got used to in science-fiction movies and it will be interesting to see how AppleTV+ interprets the book when they televise it later this year.

I had read this book when I was much younger (and remembered very little) and was pleased to see that the book still feels modern despite the seventy years of significant technology advancement and the umpteen dazzling sci-fi movies that I have seen in the past few years. One glaring feature, however, is the absence of women in any pivotal role in this book, possibly a reflection of the times in which it was written (the trailer of the TV show seems to be correcting that though). I look forward to reading the next two books of the original trilogy (more books have been written since then) and watching the AppleTV+ show!

Pros: A grand landscape, interesting plot, human psychology at the centre, contemporary feel

Cons: A complete absence of women in the plot

Absolute Power, Sucheta Dalal & Debashis Basu, 2021

Rating:4/5

Sucheta Dalal and Debashis Basu, over the past few decades, have created a formidable reputation for themselves in financial reporting with their exposé of the Harshad Mehta scam in the 1990s being their crowning glory. All through their reporting, they have been tenacious in building evidence, have built a strong network of contacts and most importantly, they have been fearless in taking on influential personalities, regulators and powerful politicians. They have approached “Absolute Power” in the same vein, making the book a compelling read.

The book traces the history of the National Stock Exchange (NSE) of India, from its uncertain beginnings when it took on the cartels of the corrupt Bombay Stock Exchange, its rapid rise to becoming the largest exchange of India aided by some visionary policies, a nationwide presence and the use of technology, to the utter lawlessness in the Exchange under the leadership of Ravi Narain followed by Chitra Ramakrishnan. Dalal and Basu track the key issues in the latter stage of the NSE including tax evasions by brokers, the lack of sufficient risk mitigation steps, the blatant suppression of competition, the capture of regulators and finally, the illegal co-location facilities given to some investors for high frequency trading. The book builds on their regular reporting on these issues over the past several years.

In the process, they do not shy from naming the key perpetrators, whether they be senior NSE employees, the top brass at SEBI (India’s stock market regulator) or even the finance minister during that time. I can imagine the immense pressure that they may have been under during this reporting, especially when the NSE sued them for Rs1 bn (about $15 million at 2015 exchange rates). While Dalal and Basu had built formidable reputations for themselves by that time, this lawsuit would have ended their professional lives and significantly damaged their personal ones if it had been decided by the courts in favour of NSE. To me, this aspect of fearlessness exhibited by them is the most impressive.

While I was familiar with many of these issues due to my involvement in Indian equity markets over many years, the blatant disregard for external and internal rules as depicted in this book is shocking. And the lack of will to protect all investors and players depressing. Unfortunately, this seems the case all over the world, including in the US, even now. For example, Robinhood’s strategy of “gamifying” trading will surely bring grief to thousands of small investors who are not even fully aware of what they trade during any significant market downturn, whenever that happens. Robinhood customer suicide is one such example.

I had two issues with the book. Dalal and Basu paint the various characters as either completely black or completely white. The bulk of their criticism is directed against Narain and Ramakrishnan with nary a good word to say about them. Surely, there must be something right that they did to ensure that NSE became highly profitable and had features more advanced than those in international exchanges during their tenures? The second issue was the bland style of narration. Dalal and Basu are financial journalists and they use their usual writing style for this book. But we have seen how the writing can make a world of difference to a book as in the case of “Bad Blood” – it’s a book about the scam at Theranos but reads like a thriller. Nevertheless, I would strongly recommend “Absolute Power” to anyone with an interest in Indian equity markets.

Pros: Fearless reporting, painstakingly researched, compelling read

Cons: Bland writing style

South of the Border, West of the Sun, Haruki Murakami, 1992

Rating: 4/5

“South of the Border” is a first-person narrative by its protagonist Hajime and his relationships with three women — with Shimamoto during elementary school and then again later, with Izumi in high school and with his wife Yukiko. Hajime’s choices in life seem largely driven by a desire to be different and by a want that seems just beyond reach — the “west of the sun”, a place that’s just not possible to reach and a phrase that Murakami compares to Arctic hysteria. This contrasts with the “south of the border” part of the title, that refers to a song that Hajime and Shimamoto listen to often (although I have been unable to locate the Nat King Cole version that Murakami refers to in the book), and could be symbolic of an ordinary life. 

The more I read Murakami, I realise that several common elements thread through this books — flawed protagonists, the inability to remain satisfied with one’s circumstances, overt sexuality and mysterious women, and others. Additionally, this book is fairly similar to “Norwegian Wood”. It’s a book about love and relationships with a love triangle of sorts with many of the surreal elements that are staples of Murakami’s novels missing in it. Both the books are based on songs with the stories having some faint resemblance to parts of the songs. And this commonality is the reason for the missing star in my review! 

One of the features of Murakami’s novels that I find intriguing is the translation into English. The prose is often simple yet extremely evocative of the protagonists’ feelings and the environment around them. This is one of the things that I find most appealing in his novels and it intrigues me whether it is Murakami’s doing or the translator’s. “South of the Border” is no different — the simple prose make the book easy to read (and it is a short novel in any case) while its evocative nature makes it a thoughtful read. There are some sentences that made me cringe though — “it wasn’t a record that she was handling, it was a fragile soul inside a glass bottle” as one example. Mercifully, these were few and far between!

There are multiple ways in which to interpret this book and the characters, notably Shimamoto and Izumi. For example, it is possible that the characters are real or they could be imaginary and are created in Hajime’s mind to reflect his desires and guilt. And each interpretation would take the reader to a different conclusion. I can easily see myself re-reading this book in a completely different way. Therein lies the beauty of this book, especially given its very short length, and what ultimately makes this book a great read!

Pros: Powerful prose, open to interpretation

Cons: Feels somewhat similar to other Murakami books

Mythos, Stephen Fry, 2017

Rating: 5/5

For someone like me who had little knowledge of Greek mythology, Mythos is the perfect introduction to this subject. Fry covers it comprehensively, even if not in great detail, and his easy and humorous writing style makes the book an easy read.

The book tries to be as comprehensive as possible, commencing from the origins of the titans and the gods, and concluding with several fables. It also discusses the origin of many words commonly used today — euthanasia coming from Thanatos, Kronos contributing to chronometers, and tantalised from Tantalus for example. As Fry puts it, this “splendidly exemplifies the continuing relationship between Greek myth and our language”. There are interesting origin stories as well — the creation of peacocks or the Sahara desert and icy polar regions or a swan song for example. The book also provides insights into the linkages between Greek (and Roman) mythological characters, even minor ones — an interesting bit of trivia is that Apollo was the only Greek god worshipped by the Romans under the same name.

This book is essentially a dummy’s guide to Greek mythology. If your objective is to learn more about the subject, “Mythos” is a great read.

Pros: A great introduction to Greek mythology, easy writing style

Cons: In his attempt to be comprehensive, there is a bit of an overload of characters

The Brilliant Life of Eudora Honeysett, Annie Lyons, 2020

Rating: 5/5

I found this book to be very similar to “A Man Called Ove” by Fredrik Backman — with an old, cantankerous protagonist who has lost the desire to live, a new neighbour that brings in a ray of hope, a poignant back-story interspersed with the main narrative, a writing style that’s simple yet touching and a cat as well.

The book deals with the life of octogenarian Eudora Honeysett as she contemplates the final years of her life. Unlike her peers, she’s not scared about death and she would rather go early than approach it slowly and painfully. Her life then gets upended by the entry of Rose Trewidney, a loveable precocious child, and her family and a new friendship with Stanley Marcham, who’s only a few years younger than her. Her back-story incorporating her mother and her younger sister forms the concluding part of each chapter

The book is poignant in parts, and funny and hopeful in others — a bitter-sweet journey as Dora thinks about her past, explores her feelings about death and revels in her new relationships. It is also an emotional commentary about death. “We are living longer but not better”, as one of the characters in the book puts it, took me back to one of the best books that I’ve read recently, “Being Mortal” by Atul Gawande. 

Overall, this is a very enjoyable book to read — it would have been even more enjoyable had I not read Backman’s book first!

Pros: Funny & poignant, easy-to-read

Cons: Very similar to "A Man Called Ove"

The Code Breaker, Walter Isaacson, 2021

Rating: 4/5

The Code Breaker traces the history of gene editing while simultaneously tracking Jennifer Doudna’s life — she has received a Nobel prize for being a pioneer of the CRISPR technology (an immune system that bacteria adapt whenever they get attacked by a new virus).

There is a key difference between this book and Isaacson’s biography of Steve Jobs. I did not learn anything new from the latter as I was aware of most of the key events in the life of Jobs and in the history of Apple; however the insights that he provided into Jobs’ personality and the behind-the-scenes happenings at Apple made it an extremely interesting read. The Code Breaker, on the other hand, was extremely informative given my limited knowledge of gene editing; however, in its quest for being informative, the book ends up being somewhat tedious.

Doudna has led an extremely laudable professional life. However, her personal life has been largely commonplace, and while Isaacson tries his hardest to create a sense of excitement around it, he fails to do so. He focuses all his efforts on this front in the third part of the book — Gene Editing — where he chronicles the intense rivalry between Feng Zhang and Doudna, tracing their race to get credit, important prizes and patents. But this attempt falls short.

The most interesting part of the book for me was the section where Isaacson explores the moral or ethical issues around gene-editing. This is best exemplified by the question, “would it be wrong to do so or would it be wrong not to do so”. Isaacson discusses where boundary lines should be drawn — somatic editing versus germline editing (the latter is hereditary), the use for treatment of diseases versus for enhancement of human characteristics, the types of diseases that should be edited out, disadvantages that are disabling versus those that are simply so because of societal constructs (such as homosexuality) and finally whether the individual or the community should control this. From this part onwards, the book is less about Doudna and more about the science.

The book ends on an optimistic note, while discussing the Covid-19 disease and the race to find a vaccine, on how reprogrammable RNA vaccines could pave a way for finding faster cures to diseases and pandemics in the future.

Pros: Helps understand the science of biogenetics, interesting debate on the ethical aspects

Cons: Drags in parts

Moonflower Murders, Anthony Horowitz, 2020

Rating: 4/5

I rarely read sequels back-to-back — I find that doing so diminishes the charm of the first book for me and I prefer revisiting a story after a period of time. But Magpie Murders was such delightful reading that I couldn’t resist jumping into Moonflower Murders right away.

The structure of this book is similar to that of Magpie Murders, i.e., the book consists of two complete stories which are separate yet linked, with one story embedded in the other. However, unlike Magpie, the main story here is neatly cleaved into two and bookends the embedded one. This also makes the book a bit more difficult to follow given that there are several characters in each of them and there seems to be some correlation between the two sets.

Like in the earlier book, the Atticus Pünd story titled “Atticus Pünd Takes The Case” is a pacy one — detective Pünd has been called to investigate the murder of a famous actress at Tawleigh-on-the-water, and the cast of suspects include her husband, household help, hotel staff, people that live in the village as well as some outsiders. In the main story, the parents of a missing woman hire Susan Ryeland to find their daughter — she has gone missing after spotting a clue while reading APTTC that could solve a previous murder and Susan had edited and published the book.

Horowitz, as in his earlier book, devotes a lot of attention to both the stories and neatly fits all the pieces of the puzzle by the end. Having said that, I did enjoy this book slightly lesser than its precursor. Perhaps, it was the back-to-back reading that reduced my enjoyment or perhaps it was the fact that Horowitz appears to try too hard to be clever to live up to the expectations of this book. Either way, I would definitely recommend a reading of this book, but not immediately after the previous one!

Pros: Two interesting mysteries in one cleverly combined

Cons: A tad too clever perhaps, too many characters