A friend of mine, on a celebratory election call yesterday, said, when introducing a poet, "The beauty of language is that when words fail us, somebody, somewhere, knows exactly what to say to express those feelings." Amen. This is why I love books and poetry.
Though I should probably be writing on this post-election day about a female author, I'll make a slight nod to Kamala by writing about an author with Indian roots, Rohinton Mistry.
I've read A Fine Balance a few times since its release in 1995, and each time it leaves me with a deeper understanding of humanity. It's not a feel-good book. It's not even a feel-okay-about-things book. But it is so beautiful. The prose leaves the reader with a visceral sense of what life in an Indian inner-city is like, the crowds, the destitution, food odors, sweat, superstitions. Mistry deftly weaves the lives of his protagonists: a low-caste tailor and his nephew, an ailing widow and a respectable student, together. The quadriplegic beggar whom they befriend will bring tears. You might have to put the book down for a minute. But then you'll pick it back up every time.
Thanks so much, Mary Jane for reading and commenting. It seems we share the same taste in books. I'd love to hear your list of favorites. I've got a handful more that I'll blog about, but I'm always thrilled to find others. There's little better than being so absorbed in a story you have to sit in the parking lot, (in my world :)
I remember I listened to A Fine Balance on a long road trip some years back and more than once my husband and I sat listening to it in a motel parking lot because we couldn’t bear to stop.