Thursday, September 29, 2011

The White Tiger is a Book of Rare Quality


The White Tiger, to our knowledge, is the only letter to a Chinese Premier to ever win the Man Booker Prize. And rightfully so. Author Aravind Adiga has penned a brilliant debut novel that has been widely praised across the pond but has yet to receive its just dues in the US. This novel pulls the curtain back on India’s economic revolution in a refreshingly original, honest and often humorous voice.

The story that unfolds, while distinctly Indian in the details, could be set in just about any “third-world” country: boy is born into rural poverty, migrates to urban area, work hard, grows some balls and ambition, puts some coin in his pocket, consumes his way into the emerging middle-class and becomes a connoisseur of Budweiser, WWE, Russian prostitutes and all the other trappings of the good life.

But it’s the man at the center of this hurricane that makes the book a treasure.

Balram Halwai is a man that’s impressed by English liquor and cheap denim. And just like the eponymous big cat in the title he is truly a rare animal. A man for whom success is measured by conspicuous consumption. He’s also a shrewd and conniving entrepreneur whose ambition has led him out of the “darkness” of his rural village and into the bright lights and filth of Mumbai. After smashing in his employer’s skull in a Dostoevsky-esque plot twist he opens a thriving taxi business. As a businessman on the rise he’s offered respite to reflect on his views and life in a late night letter to the Chinese leader.

He details his humble and difficult beginnings, his lack of schooling, his tenure as an abused chauffer and the delight he takes in indulging in the material delights of the new Indian economy. He is also a bit of pig. His views on wealth, women and the good-life all seem as though they’ve been formed by an MTV reality show and he posses few redeeming qualities. But he’s a compelling character because no matter how casually he swallows the bitter pill of his pitiable beginnings and gushes over his modest success the pain in his life is vivid and universal.

The White Tiger tells the story of two Indias through the eyes of the downtrodden. He provides a refreshing narrative of the social convulsions coursing through modern India void of the sentimentality that often dooms such projects. While this is hardly an original topic what sets The White Tiger apart is that Balram is no victim. In fact, “hero” might be more apt, at least in Balram’s mind. He’s crass, materialistic, ignorant and a true “success” story of India’s modernization. His tale is unique -arguably even ground-breaking- and undoubtedly adds to our collective understanding of the human experience.

Adiga deserves all the credit in the world. He’s created some inedible characters and woven a fascinating tale. We can’t wait to read his next offering, Last Man In Tower, due to hit bookshelves later this year.

Monday, July 11, 2011

The Local Scene: The Other Side by E. Thomas Finan

The Other SideThe Other Side is a work of seven stories that comprise the debut collection from E. Thomas Finan, currently a lecturer at the University of Miami. Published by The Fieldnor Press in 2010, The Other Side treats various poignant moments in the lives of its characters. Finan experiments with a variety of voices and styles in bringing his characters to life and, because he is a strong writer with a talent for dialogue, he mostly succeeds.

My favorite story of the collection was, "Motley Black," which follows Jay, recently jilted and running from memory, as he leaves his home in San Francisco and travels by bus to Key West, where he hopes to begin the next chapter of his life. Anyone who has ever travelled by bus will appreciate the cast of well-drawn characters that Jay meets along the way, and it is obvious that Finan is writing from experience.

Others that scored points with me were the existentialist "Lucy di Sartoria," the obsessive "An Aria of Windrows," and the supernatural story, "The Other Side.". Overall, I found Finan's collection familiar and readable, with characters that elicit sympathy and make a connection with the reader. And I'm looking forward to more of Finan in the future.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

The Dreamlike Beauty of an Expatriate Life: Everything Beautiful Began After by Simon Van Booy

Everything Beautiful Began After: A Novel (P.S.)There is a dreamlike beauty to the expatriate life that Simon Van Booy captures perfectly in his debut novel, Everything Beautiful Began After, released today by Harper Perennial.

Rebecca, George, and Henry, have each come to Athens for different reasons, but all are content to become lost in its dusty streets and the hazy memory of antiquity. And it is a sandblown sort of fate that brings them together in that haphazard, thousand-causal-connections manner that typifies the joining of strangers in a foreign land and the binding of them together by common experience. But come together they do, and they eventually share an affection that is both real and enduring.   

When tragedy strikes, it is through these well-formed and emotionally-complex characters that Van Booy demonstrates how the intimacy of casual acquaintance and the despair occasioned by last goodbyes can hijack an entire life. Everything Beautiful Began After paints a portrait of a world almost outside of existence where affairs may capture the heart forever and the loss of a future once-envisioned can become all-consuming.

More than simply a painter of beautiful scenes, however, Van Booy is also a skilled professional. His prose is thoughtful and poetic as he describes Athens so vividly that the reader feels the dry heat of a noonday sun at the foot of the Acropolis. He cleverly plays with language, not just English, but Greek, French, Italian, and even Arabic, as a sometime reminder of how difficult it can be to communicate with one another, especially where the subject consists of our own pain. And though it takes some getting used to, the periodic use of the second person and the present tense allows the reader to share in the aimless wandering of Henry as he seeks some path by which to reenter the world that he once knew but has since lost forever.

Though it is sure to be enjoyed by the general public, in my opinion Everything Beautiful Began After is a must-read for anyone living abroad or with fond memories of having done so.

Monday, June 20, 2011

We Have Met the Enemy: Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad

Heart of Darkness
"The conquest of the earth, which mostly means the taking it away from those who have a different complexion or slightly flatter noses than ourselves, is not a pretty thing when you look into it too much."

Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness is (unfortunately) best recognized in popular culture for providing the backstory for Francis Ford Coppola's 1979 movie, Apocalypse Now, which is a classic in its own right.  The novel is based, not in Cambodia, but in a part of the African Congo that was a private colony of King Leopold II of Belgium in the latter part of the nineteenth century.     

While waiting for the tide to turn at the mouth of the Thames, the protagonist, Charlie Marlow, notes to his fellow travelers that London and the Britons were once dark and untamed in the period just prior to Roman domination of the island.  Marlow proceeds to recount his experiences as a steamship captain in darkest colonial Africa and, specifically, the recovery of Kurtz, an ivory trader, journalist, and poet-philosopher, who is lost to the darkness of the jungle and his own mind.  The sometimes brutal treatment of the African natives plays a central role in the story, as does the chaos and lawlessness that results from unrestrained domination of one culture by another.  Themes of darkness and light are interwoven in both story and character to show that each of us and each of our enterprises, at some level, are infected by that tendency toward evil that is witnessed by Kurtz in the moments before he utters his final words: "The horror!  The horror!" 

Given the theme of European colonialism, the novel is broader than Apocalypse Now in the scope of its treatment.  And because it focused more specifically on the inherent duality within each human soul, the novel is also more terrifying.  Conrad is a master of prolonged tension and in the subtle treatment of difficult and controversial themes--including colonialism--and both the topic and the prose gradually work their way under the reader's skin until he's strung as tight as a bow.  But there's never a release, at least not one that completely diffuses the tension, and the reader is left with a feeling of unsettling anxiety long after the work is read.

Truth be told, Heart of Darkness is one of those few works that keep us up at night, not simply because of the story or its basis in colonial reality, but because of its undeniable application to human existence.  Does anyone share this reaction to the work?  What other works, if any, keep you up at night?   

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Happy Bloomsday, Everyone.

UlyssesIt's been a good, long while since I've posted a word here at The Literate Man.  My thanks to Aaron for picking up the slack.  The break wasn't intentional, but evolved out of (1) my misguided First Reading Challenge: The Aubrey/Maturin Series by Patrick O'Brian (I'm currently on book 13 of 21 and can read nothing else), and (2) final edits to on my own novel, The Last Will and Testament of Lemuel Higgins, which is in the final stages of editing and design prior to publication.

But I couldn't let Bloomsday pass without recycling TLM's reviews of Ulysses from late last year.  There were two: one relating reflections at the halfway point and one presenting a final review.  June 16, 1904, was the date that Joyce chose for Ulysses' protagonist, Leopold Bloom, to go rambling about Dublin and provide us with some of the most colorful scenes in all of English literature.  It also happens to be the day that James Joyce had his first date with his eventual wife, Nora Barnacle.  In any case, the date is celebrated worldwide (and particularly in Dublin) as Bloomsday in honor and recognition of Joyce's epic work and enduring genius. 

So raise a pint to Ulysses, number seven on TLM's Top Eight Novels for Men, and to James Joyce, one of the most honored (and divisive) authors in literary history.      

Monday, May 30, 2011

BURR: Gore Vidal’s Portrait of History’s Forgotten Man

Gore Vidal is the godfather of historical fiction. While he may not have invented the genre, he’s the man that has done more to elevate its status than any other writer and added more quality content to the canon than arguably anyone else.

Everyone seems to have their favorite Vidal novel and here at The Literate Man (TLM) we’re Burr diehards. And how could you not be intrigued by Aaron Burr’s story or at least Vidal’s interpretation and telling of it?

General in the Revolutionary Army, would-be conqueror of Quebec, president of the United States of America and Emperor of Mexico? If things would have turned out just a little bit differently this is the résumé Aaron Burr could have had. Instead, his epitaph reads: US senator, US Vice-president, treasonous exile, alleged practitioner of incest and a mostly forgotten founding father. Doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.
But that’s the magic of Vidal’s vision. In the writing of Burr he’s taken an historic footnote –Burr- and turned him into a man that was a whisker away from becoming quite possibly the most important figure of the 19th century. If only things could have worked out differently.

Most people today simply know Burr as the man who shot and killed Alexander Hamilton in an 1804 duel. Which is true. But commonly accepted history has made Hamilton a martyr and Burr little more than a strange curiosity. In Burr, Vidal has given the man an historical defense.


Vidal has taken certain liberties in writing this account, including the creation of the refreshing young narrator, Charles Schuyler, a clerk in Burr’s office, who is approached by political enemies of future president Martin Van Buren to prove he’s the bastard son of Burr. That’s a strange sentence, but an interesting one. And the book is full just those sort of shocking and interesting revelations.
The author was meticulous in his researching of the material and even some of the themes that seem to employ a great deal of creative license (such as his assertion that Hamilton alleged incest between Burr and his daughter, thus triggering the fatal duel) are based in fact. But more than just an impressive compilation of facts, Vidal has told this story in a compelling and humanistic tone that most revisionist historical accounts fail to achieve.

And what a treasure trove to draw from. Burr seems to be personally involved in all the most important historical events of his lifetime. Vidal takes us from his days as a colonel in the Revolutionary War, the founding of what would become JP Morgan Chase, his electoral tie with Thomas Jefferson in the 1800 presidential contest, allegations that he and Andrew Jackson hatched a scheme to conquer Mexico and appoint himself emperor, and ultimately the killing of his former best friend, Hamilton, in a gun fight in New Jersey.

You simply couldn’t make this stuff up. And whether or not Vidal’s interpretations would hold up under absolute historical scrutiny, we’ll probably never know. But if you’re looking for an enthralling read Burr hits the mark by any measure of examination.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

The Dog Of The South: Not Your Typical School Bus Ride Through Mexico

Here at The Literate Man our primary mission (aside from stopping plate tectonics and fomenting small revolutions) is to share the gift of literature with our fellow man, woman and child. We are book nerds, to be sure. And we like to share the books and writers we like; books and names that don’t often appear at airport bookstores or in Oprah’s Book Club, but have nonetheless brought us a great deal of delight and hope they might do the same for you.

Charles Portis is one of our favorites and if it wasn’t for sloth and fantasy football we would have shared our thoughts on this great man of letters long ago.


Almost every red-blooded American is familiar with Portis’ most famous work: True Grit. Whether it’s the John Wayne original or the Cohen Brothers remake, Portis’ terrifically-titled novel has carved out a place in the English lexicon.

But it’s The Dog of the South that is Portis’ real masterpiece. This is the kind of work that makes us cavalier in heaping praise like “genius,” “hilarious,” and “even funnier than Lethal Weapon II.”
The plot is thin. The narrator is unreliable. The story lacks resolution. And it’s absolutely perfect.


From the simple opening sentence of this book (“My wife Norma had run off with Guy Dupree and I was waiting around for the credit card billings to come in so I could see where they had gone.”) a wild adventure featuring a cast of Southern wierdos is hatched.
The protagonist and narrator through this ill-conceived odyssey from Arkansas to British Honduras (present-day Belize) is Raymond E. Midge, an aspiring algebra teacher and military enthusiast looking to reclaim his stolen wife and car -not necessarily in that order. In a turn of fair play Midge steal’s Dupree’s Buick (“a rusty little piece of basic transportation” with a hole in the driver’s side floor board) and the chase is on.


Halfway through Mexico he stops to help an elderly man in a broken-down school bus (with the moniker ‘Dog of the South’ painted on its side) and becomes entangled with the indefatigable Dr Reo Symes. Symes is a typical Portis eccentric who’s on his way to Belize, where his mother runs a church, to talk her out some property in the US (he envisions opening up a theme park devoted to Jefferson Davis). These two characters come to depend on one another as they follow the trail of the elusive “lovebirds” and battle with tropical storms, hippies, “dopers”, car troubles and each other’s own idiosyncrasies.
Portis unravels this disastrous jaunt through Mesoamerica at a brisk pace that makes the 256 pages fly by. Throughout the many comical exchanges he displays his gifts for writing dialogue, creating unforgettable characters and reveals a world much broader than the two ridiculous men that carry the story.


It’s regrettable that this book, and Portis himself, have not received a wider audience. Perhaps this shameless plug (and maybe that Oscar thing, too) will lead a few more people to discover his gifts.
If you like reading and you like laughing you’ll like this book. And if you do like it, please share it with someone else who might appreciate it as well.