The Word is Murder, Anthony Horowitz, 2017

Rating: 3/5

Horowitz has mastered the art of crafting detective stories differently, in a meta format. For example, in Magpie Murders, the clues to the mystery reside in another book that’s embedded within the main story. The Word is Murder is structured in the form of a true crime novel where Horowitz himself plays a role as the biographer of fictional detective Daniel Hawthorne during the process of solving a murder. Diana Cowper is found strangled a few hours after she visits a funeral parlour to plan her own funeral. Key characters in the mystery include her son and his girlfriend, her maid, a producer friend, and a family who was hurt in a car accident caused by Diana. Daniel Hawthorne, a detective, contacts Horowitz to write a book about himself and offers him a role in investigating Cowper’s death. 

True to his style, Horowitz structures his detective story interestingly — he intersperses actual events in his life (such as the publication of his novels and involvement with TV and movies) with the fictional role that he plays in the murder mystery. After a while, it’s difficult to separate fact from fiction and Horowitz uses this style to dwell on the process and challenges of writing novels. You can imagine him having a quiet chuckle when his fictional self writes about how he accepts Hawthorne’s offer as a shortcut to write a new murder mystery, without doing much research. Or when that fictional self talks about his insecurities around missing out on opportunities that could possibly be life-changing or of saying the wrong things in a literary event with journalists present. This does have its jarring moments though. At one point, there is an entire chapter on a tangential narrative of his involvement with Spielberg’s Tintin movies (which is part real and part fiction), which has no bearing on the story. But there are the parts that makes one think too, like the time when he was trying to make television viewers try to understand the turning away of a gay couple from a hotel from the homophobic owner’s point of view but got pilloried — “we need to tolerate intolerance” as he puts it.

The build-up is top-notch and makes this book a page-turner — Horowitz throws lines early in the book, such as one where he indicates that the first chapter includes a clue that quite clearly identifies the killer or the one where he regrets getting involved because of what happens later, that hooks the reader completely and builds anticipation. And like all good novels, there are enough clues strewn about that would make the reader feel that they could have solved the mystery. 

But eventually, I will not rate this among the finest murder mysteries that I have read. Unlike Agatha Christie’s Poirot or Arthur Conan Doyle’s Holmes, Hawthorne is an extremely unlikeable person. Even the more recent Strike from Robert Galbraith’s (JK Rowling) books tends to be brusque, but you can still root for him. And you need a protagonist that you can root for! Hawthorne’s homophobia is also quite apparent early in the book and while Horowitz’s character expresses his displeasure at it, he continues working with Hawthorne and this apparent conflict remains unresolved even at the end. Also, while a Dr. Watson or a Dr. Hastings come across as nincompoops occasionally, it’s easy to empathise with them and their relationships with the main detectives are endearing. Horowitz, on the other hand, comes across as a weak person, a poor foil to Hawthorne, has no chemistry with the detective and for a successful writer, some of his actions are inexplicable. So, for me, this book gets full marks for the writing style but is an average detective story otherwise.

Pros: Clever structure, page turner

Cons: Unlikeable protagonists

The ABC Murders, Agatha Christie, 1936

Rating: 5/5

I rate this as one of Christie’s three best Poirot books, along with “The Murder of Roger Ackroyd” and “Then There were None”. 

The story follows a series of murders with the towns in which they are committed and the victims’ names following an alphabetical sequence. For good measure, the killer leaves a ABC rail guide at the scenes of the crime. Early in the story, we are exposed to Alexander Bonaparte Cust who seems to have a close link with the killings. The structure is that of a typical Poirot book — the initial crime, the follow-up crimes, assorted characters related to the victims, a prime suspect, some romantic entanglements, and Poirot’s dénouement at the end in a room full of people. Poirot’s actions, just before the dénouement, are usually strange — in this book, they are even more inexplicable than usual.

A hallmark of a good detective novel, in my view, is its ability to give the reader a sporting chance to solve the mystery while at the same time being clever enough to make it very difficult. “The ABC Murders” scores on that front — the challenge here is to figure out the underlying thread of the story rather than the killer themselves. The only grouse I had it with the book was that certain aspects of the story seemed a bit far-fetched. And like most Christie books, this one is a page-turner!

As a side note, When I re-read the Poirot books, I am struck by how naive Christie has made Hastings out to be — early in the book for example, Hastings believes that Poirot’s grey hair is turning black. While Christie means Hastings to be a perfect foil for Poirot, a sort of Dr. Watson to Sherlock Holmes, she does do a disservice to him! :-)

Pros: Page-turner, clever plot, satisfying end

Cons: Some elements of the story seem far-fetched

Coromandel: A Personal History of South India, Charles Allen, 2017

Rating: 2/5

I started reading the book with a lot of excitement as I hail from the southern part of India but know precious little about its ancient history. Unfortunately, the book is too dry to really enjoy it!

Coromandel (the south-eastern coast of India and derived from Cholamandalam of the Chola dynasty) is an extremely well researched book, however. Allen starts off by discussing the ancient history of northern India starting with the Harappan civilisation and then proceeds to the “south of the Vindhyas” — the Narmada river neatly divides India into two halves and is flanked by the Vindhya and the Satpura mountain ranges on either side. The book covers the beginning of Tamil culture, the prominence of Jains and Buddhists in southern India which was taken over by Adi Shankara’s Advaita philosophy, the history of the south-western coast (Kerala) and some of the dynasties such as Cholas and the Satavahanas.

The book is as much about (if not more) the discovery of the history of southern India in the past two centuries as much as about the 3,000-4,000 years of history itself. At one point, in a moment of self-realisation, he does point out that he’s risking boring the reader … and then promptly discusses one more Orientalist. All this makes the book a laborious read. It’s a pity because give the amount of research that Allen has conducted, he could have woven an interesting narrative just sticking largely to the actual history. Also, the book seems to take huge time leaps — there’s a fair amount of discussion of the BCE and very early CE years and then of the last three or four centuries and consequently, the mention of many of the important southern dynasties seem superficial. And the writing style is extremely dry!

I often look out for interesting factoids in books such as these. Again unfortunately, these were few and far between. The most interesting one: Mark Shand, author of Travels with my Elephant, noticed that his elephant Tara refused to move as it approached the Kalinga battlefield where hundreds of elephants had died 2000 years ago. He ascribes it to ancestral memory and elephants indeed remember everything!

Allen does dare to touch upon the touchy topics of Hindutva and revisionism of history in his endnotes. He laments the fact that Indian culture never had accurate historians and  makes an interesting contrast between the British (who elevated the historical at the cost of the mythical) and the Indian (the exact opposite) cultures. He celebrates Swami Vivekananda for helping create the perception of a spiritual India based on ancient truths even as he seems somewhat critical of Dayananda Saraswati and Savarkar for their brand of Hindutva. Whether one agrees or disagrees with this view, the book is reasonably balanced overall and Allen’s love for India does stand out.

Pros: Well researched and accompanied by interesting images

Cons: Too much focus on the discovery of the history versus the history itself, dry writing style, superficial discussion of the dynasties 

The Lincoln Highway, Amor Towles, 2021

Rating: 5/5

This book is clearly among the best fiction ones that I’ve read! I was almost tempted to skip this review because I’m sure it cannot do justice to the beauty of this book.

It covers ten days of a road trip undertaken by four boys — Emmett Watson, Billy Watson, Daniel (Duchess) Hewitt and Wallace (Woolly) Walcott — from Nebraska to New York along the Lincoln Highway. The Watson brother eventually want to end in California on the same highway in search of a new life and a mother who abandoned them. The other two are heading out to retrieve Woolly’s inheritance in New York. Emmett is the serious one with a high sense of integrity but is doomed to cause unintended adverse consequences by his actions. Billy is young, precocious, filled with wonder at each of life’s experiences and mature beyond his eight years. Duchess “loves it when life pulls a rabbit out of a hat” as he puts it. His sense of morality varies as per his convenience but a fractured relationship with his father eventually spirals it downwards . Woolly is a free-spirited but a lost soul, addicted to some form of drugs but possibly the most perceptive of the four. Each character is etched so beautifully that you can’t but help root for them, even for the grey Duchess. For me, my favourite was Woolly!

One of the best features of Towles’ writing is his ability to flesh out even the minor characters and have them play an important part in taking the story forward. We saw this in Towles’ previous book, A Gentleman in Moscow, and this book has even more minor players, complex and nuanced, scattered around the book. For me, one of the best passages in the book was the interaction between Ulysses, a vagabond in search of his family, and Professor Abernathe, the author of a book of adventures that Billy has read 25 times, despite both of them playing fairly minor roles in the book.

Like in his previous book, Towles’ writing is excellent — it’s easy to read but at the same time etches each actor’s thoughts beautifully. And to enable this, he’s chosen a structure where the narration alternates among the points of view of the various characters. He has also numbered his sections in reverse order (one section for each day) to give us a sense of countdown towards the inexorable determination of each of the boy’s futures. The only downside to his writing is perhaps the unnaturally high level of sophistication that he awards to the actors — which eight-year boy (Billy) thinks so maturely or which young adult (Duchess) is able to do the things he does given his messed-up upbringing! It almost makes the reader feel inadequate!!

Fun fact: The Lincoln Highway ends around the same date as A Gentleman in Moscow (summer of 1954 with June 21 playing an important role)

Pros: Superbly written, brilliant characters, an enjoyable re-read

Cons: Overly sophisticated characters perhaps

The Empire of Pain, Patrick Keefe, 2021

Rating: 5/5

This is the third such book that I have read in the last couple of years, the other two being “The Billion Dollar Loser” on WeWork and on Adam Neumann and “Bad Blood” on Theranos and on Elizabeth Holmes. While the first is about a business built on hubris and the second about a complete fraud, “The Empire of Pain” was the most shocking of the three. It is about a legitimate business that was extremely successful but one that was built using several unethical means and one that ultimately caused the death of thousands of Americans.

The book traces the history of the Sackler family and of Purdue Pharma, starting with the early years of Arthur , Mortimer and Raymond Sackler, children of an immigrant family in New York. Their parents desired their sons to become doctors, given the perceived nobleness of the profession, which turns out ironic given the later history of the family. The first section traces the lives and the initial wealth creation of the three brothers, especially that of Arthur. It gives an insight into their ambiguous views on integrity around medical products and conflicts of interest and their desire to be recognised as a leading family in the country. The second section is about the rise of OxyContin as a majorly profitable drug for Purdue, the issue of widespread addiction caused by it and Purdue’s attempts to fight the hundreds of legal cases. The final session is about the third generation and the eventual fall of the company. The book is extremely well-researched and written in a way that makes it interesting reading despite the subject matter and the length of the book.

The Sackler empire was built on Roche’s Librium and Valium, especially the latter. By the time Valium was controlled, it was used by 20 million Americans and became the most widely consumed — and abused — prescription drug. The second generation of Sacklers multiplied that wealth with OxyContin.It could be argued that OxyContin was a legal drug, approved by the FDA, but the fact was that America did not have an opioid crisis before the drug’s introduction. It is also clear that the company was aware of the problem for a long time but chose to ignore it for selfish reasons. And its usage of its legal teams, influential government representatives, threats and otherwise Machiavellian methods to thwart any attempts to stop it is simply shocking. The lack of oversight by government institutions is particularly galling — as Keefe puts it, “the opioid industry is, among other things, a parable about the awesome capability of private industry to subvert public institutions”. 

As I write this review, the Sackler family appears to have got away with it. They have had to pay billions of dollars as penalties, have had to give up their stake in Purdue Pharma and have to bear the ignominy of seeing their family name stripped away from many of their philanthropic attempts. However, they still have several billions of dollars of wealth created by the opioid crisis, have had no criminal charges against them and seem to have procured immunity against future legal liabilities. And that’s indeed a pity!

Pros: Extremely well researched, the narrative style makes it an interesting read despite its length

Cons: The length of the book to some extent

The Financial Expert, R K Narayan, 1952

Rating: 3/5

Books like PG Wodehouse’s for example age very well despite the fact that the idyllic world that they are set in and societal norms that they refer to are completely unrecognisable today. And that is due to the romanticisation of any situation and the ample use of humour. I have always viewed RK Narayan as an Indian version of Wodehouse with his semi-rural South Indian locales, quaint characters and understated and wry humour. His world of Swamy, for example, has provided endless delight to me and I’m sure to generations of readers. However, The Financial Expert, frankly, was somewhat disappointing — the plot was too simplistic and the humour rare to find!

This book, like most of his other stories, is based in the fictional town of Malgudi in southern India with the characters and their milieu being similar to his usual ones. Margayya (literally the person who shows the way) is the resident financial expert who helps the villagers inveigle loans from the local co-operative bank but aspires for more wealth and respect from his fellow citizens. His journey towards that goal forms the crux of the novel and his long-suffering wife, his spoilt son Balu, and Dr. Pal, a bohemian author, play important roles in that journey.

Narayan has managed to imbue his central character of Margayya with multiple facets to his nature — greedy, miserly, pompous, sensitive, self-righteous yet one who appears simple at his core. His relationship with his wife is the one that Narayan has captured the best, he’s usually dismissive of her yet tender on occasions. Parts of the plot, like his engagement with his clients, his conflict with the co-operative bank officials, his encounter with the local priest, his hunt for a red lotus and his experience as a publisher have subtle humour and irony and are a delight to read. His writing is simple (perhaps a bit too simple at parts) and easy to read. However, the story and the writing does drag on for a significant part of the book. The beginning of the book is extremely promising with Margayya doling out advice to his customers under a banyan tree outside the co-operative bank but the narrative surprise peters out in the second half of the book.

Surprisingly, while this movie was adapted for an award-winning Kannada movie, it has not been recreated in any of the mainstream languages. Malgudi Days, Narayan’s collection of short stories, was made into an absolutely delightful TV show back in 1986. I will hope that the same is done with The Financial Expert!

Pros: Subtle humour, quaint characters and milieu

Cons: Second half was simplistic and dragged

The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August, Claire North, 2014

Rating: 5/5

What a book! Right from the opening line of “The second cataclysm began in my eleventh life, in 1996” until the very satisfying final chapter (or as satisfying as a time-loop story can get), “The First Fifteen Lives” is a page-turning ride filled with imagination, great story-telling and wonderful writing.

The book’s essence is a “Groundhog Day” type of story — only that an entire life is lived repeatedly in a loop  rather than just a day. Harry August belongs to a class of men and women known as kalachakra (it’s literal meaning is a wheel of time and is a term in Buddhism that refers to time cycles) or ouroborans (from the serpent swallowing its own tail, an Egyptian-Greek symbol of life-death-rebirth) who, after living their lives, are born again in the exact same way at the exact same time and place but with  complete memories of each of their past lives. Additionally, Harry is a mnemonic, a type of kalachakra, who retains all his memories perfectly. During his eleventh life, he discovers that something is changing the course of human history and possibly leading to its destruction and it’s up to him to prevent it.

A usual problem with such a genre of books is the inevitable repeatability, and that leads to such books dragging somewhat especially in the middle parts. North (a pseudonym for Catherine Webb), however, structures “The First Fifteen Lives” cleverly in a non-sequential fashion that makes each chapter feel fresh. And towards the latter part of the book, which is more traditionally structured, the story transforms into a cat-and-mouse type of thriller that prevents the reader from keeping the book down. This book could easily have been caught up in the science behind the events and while there is some perfunctory discussion on it, it does not distract and the book is as much about history, philosophy and ethics as it is about science.

Books involving time travel or time loops invariably need to adopt the concept of a “multiverse” to explain away the anomalies of the story and even that adoption does not offer a full explanation. “The First Fifteen Lives” is no different and the reader is bound to have lingering doubts about the plot once the book is read. But that’s only to be expected — my approach while reading such books is to take a few things for granted and just simply enjoy the ride.

Pros: Imaginative plot, page-turner, superbly written, satisfying end

Cons: Unanswered questions in the end, as to be expected from this genre