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aaravbalsu's review against another edition
4.0
This book follows a poor family living in the slums of Mumbai: the father, Mohan Kumar, is a chutney seller, and his sons Radha and Manju are prodigal cricket players. The book deals with the central role of cricket in the Indian sporting consciousness, as well as the family's struggle to ascend the social ladder. As always, Adiga portrays Mumbai and the diversity of its people as a strong supporting cast for the protagonists, and their presence in the backdrop of almost all the scenes of the book can be keenly felt. I thought the ending was a bit rushed and didn't give the readers enough closure about what happens to the characters.
Medium-length, finished in two days.
Medium-length, finished in two days.
saareman's review against another edition
2.0
I don't follow sports in North America aside from the general news so the world of cricket is even more of a complete black box to me. I could understand that "Selection Day" referred to what would be called "Draft Day" in North American sports such as hockey or football and I hoped that I'd still be able to follow this as a general coming-of-age story but I had the sense that most of it was over my head. The coming-of-age / sexual-questioning plot came along very late in the book so it didn't provide any dramatic tension during the main plot of two teenage brothers being pushed by their father & their cricket teacher towards the titular event. References to possible real-life personalities were lost to me except for some cameo appearances by actor [a:Shah Rukh Khan|612734|Shah Rukh Khan|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1325424083p2/612734.jpg].
The author even turns on cricket towards the end, (something perhaps to be expected from the author of the provocative 2008 Booker winning [b:The White Tiger|1768603|The White Tiger|Aravind Adiga|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1347754998s/1768603.jpg|1766737]*) calling it a "fraud sport" that is "played by only 8 countries in the world." That didn't add to my enthusiasm either.
*which I read in my pre-GR days and found very entertaining, I probably would have given it a 5 rating at the time. I don't remember anything about [b:Between the Assassinations|5743627|Between the Assassinations|Aravind Adiga|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1312258362s/5743627.jpg|17222555] except having the sense that the stories pre-dated "The White Tiger" and were possibly only published due to the latter's success. I skipped reading [b:Last Man in Tower|10854908|Last Man in Tower|Aravind Adiga|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1328165348s/10854908.jpg|15021310].
The author even turns on cricket towards the end, (something perhaps to be expected from the author of the provocative 2008 Booker winning [b:The White Tiger|1768603|The White Tiger|Aravind Adiga|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1347754998s/1768603.jpg|1766737]*) calling it a "fraud sport" that is "played by only 8 countries in the world." That didn't add to my enthusiasm either.
*which I read in my pre-GR days and found very entertaining, I probably would have given it a 5 rating at the time. I don't remember anything about [b:Between the Assassinations|5743627|Between the Assassinations|Aravind Adiga|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1312258362s/5743627.jpg|17222555] except having the sense that the stories pre-dated "The White Tiger" and were possibly only published due to the latter's success. I skipped reading [b:Last Man in Tower|10854908|Last Man in Tower|Aravind Adiga|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1328165348s/10854908.jpg|15021310].
fictionfan's review against another edition
5.0
The Gentleman's Game...
Two brothers are being groomed by their father to become the greatest cricketers in India. Radha, the elder, with his film-star looks and love of the game, is the better of the two, and it's accepted that he will be the star. But as they grow up, Radha's skill diminishes, just a little, but enough for him to be eclipsed by the younger Manju, whose attitude to the game is more ambivalent. Their mother having disappeared when they were little (run away? dead? The boys aren't sure), the brothers have been brought up by their tyrannical father Mohan, who is determined they will succeed in the sport as a way to raise the family out of the slums. So when the chance of sponsorship comes along, Mohan grabs it, even though it's at best an unethical deal which sells his sons into a kind of bondage and, at worst, borders on the illegal.
This is a story of sibling rivalry, tied in with a wider picture of corruption in society shown through the corruption in cricket. The game, once the preserve of all that was considered gentlemanly, has become all about money. The days of languorous five-day test matches has morphed into not only one-day cricket, but the hideousness of the ultra-short 20-20, which Adiga describes in his humorous glossary of cricketing terms at the end of the book as “in the eyes of some older fans, almost as bad as baseball.” It's not necessary, I think, to know about cricket to enjoy the book - Adiga doesn't fall into the trap of lengthy descriptions of games, tactics or technicalities, and the sport could as easily be any other. But cricket has a particular resonance, because of its origin as a game of the British Empire, a period whose influence is still vital in understanding much of Indian society.
As Manju hits adolescence, he becomes fascinated by another young player, Javed. Javed is gay and Manju's attraction to him suggests that he is too. But Manju is of a lower class than Javed and has a father who's not likely to be the most supportive, so it would take considerably more courage for him to admit his feelings than Javed. But his relationship with Javed isn't purely about physical attraction – Manju finds himself influenced by the older, more confident boy in other ways. Javed, another talented cricketer, sees the corruption in the sport and wants Manju to give it up. So poor Manju has a jealous brother who feels he deserves to be the best, a friend pulling him away from cricket, and his father and his coach putting pressure on him to practice every moment he can. It's not altogether surprising that he's confused before he gets to Selection Day, the day on which the big teams pick which young players they will sign.
I love Adiga's depiction of Mumbai or Bombay (names which he uses interchangeably). He shows the poverty, corruption and class divisions quite clearly but, unlike some of the (usually ex-pat) Indian writers who love to wallow exclusively in the misery, Adiga also shows the other side – the vibrancy, the struggle for social mobility, the advances of recent years. His characters, even when they're being put through the emotional wringer, manage to have some fun along the way, and the whole atmosphere he portrays lacks the irredeemable hopelessness of so much Indian literature. There's also a good deal of humour, often very perceptive and coming at unexpected moments, startling me into laughter. This book tackles some tough subjects, but on the whole Adiga simply lays the arguments out and leaves the reader to come to her own conclusions – there's no whiff of the polemical in his writing.
There is, however, some great characterisation, and he writes about them empathetically so that it's hard not to see why even the less savoury characters have turned out as they have. One of the things I loved was seeing how the perception of Mohan, the boys' father, changed as they grew up. This man who loomed over them in childhood shrinks as they grow – both physically and in terms of his influence. It's the mark of the quality of Adiga's writing that this happens so gradually there's no jarring moment, but towards the end I realised I had come to feel about him quite differently than I had in the beginning.
For me, this was a slow-burn book. It took at least a third of the book before I was convinced that this tale of cricketing brothers was going to hold my interest. But as it progressed, I began to appreciate the subtlety with which Adiga was showing various aspects of contemporary Indian life, and as always I found his writing pure pleasure to read. And by the time I reached the end, I found he had again created some characters who had become real to me, in the way Masterji did in his excellent [b:Last Man in Tower|10854908|Last Man in Tower|Aravind Adiga|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1328165348s/10854908.jpg|15021310]. This book confirms Adiga's place as one of my favourite authors, and gets my wholehearted recommendation.
NB This book was provided for review by the publisher, Scribner.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
“India: A country said to have two real religions – cinema and cricket.”
Two brothers are being groomed by their father to become the greatest cricketers in India. Radha, the elder, with his film-star looks and love of the game, is the better of the two, and it's accepted that he will be the star. But as they grow up, Radha's skill diminishes, just a little, but enough for him to be eclipsed by the younger Manju, whose attitude to the game is more ambivalent. Their mother having disappeared when they were little (run away? dead? The boys aren't sure), the brothers have been brought up by their tyrannical father Mohan, who is determined they will succeed in the sport as a way to raise the family out of the slums. So when the chance of sponsorship comes along, Mohan grabs it, even though it's at best an unethical deal which sells his sons into a kind of bondage and, at worst, borders on the illegal.
This is a story of sibling rivalry, tied in with a wider picture of corruption in society shown through the corruption in cricket. The game, once the preserve of all that was considered gentlemanly, has become all about money. The days of languorous five-day test matches has morphed into not only one-day cricket, but the hideousness of the ultra-short 20-20, which Adiga describes in his humorous glossary of cricketing terms at the end of the book as “in the eyes of some older fans, almost as bad as baseball.” It's not necessary, I think, to know about cricket to enjoy the book - Adiga doesn't fall into the trap of lengthy descriptions of games, tactics or technicalities, and the sport could as easily be any other. But cricket has a particular resonance, because of its origin as a game of the British Empire, a period whose influence is still vital in understanding much of Indian society.
In the next few minutes, Anand Mehta came up with the following observations about cricket: that it was a fraud, and at the most fundamental level. Only ten countries play this game, and only five of them play it well. If we had any self-respect, we'd finally grow up as a people and play football. No: let's not expose ourselves to real competition, much safer to be in a “world cup” against St. Kitts and Bangladesh. Self-obsession without self-belief: the very definition of the Indian middle class, which is why it loves this fraud sport.
Poised to offer the world more deep thoughts about the gentleman’s game, Mehta heard:
Shot! Bloody good shot!...
Confronted by the sound and smell of an instant of real cricket, Mehta felt all his mighty observations turn to ashes.
As Manju hits adolescence, he becomes fascinated by another young player, Javed. Javed is gay and Manju's attraction to him suggests that he is too. But Manju is of a lower class than Javed and has a father who's not likely to be the most supportive, so it would take considerably more courage for him to admit his feelings than Javed. But his relationship with Javed isn't purely about physical attraction – Manju finds himself influenced by the older, more confident boy in other ways. Javed, another talented cricketer, sees the corruption in the sport and wants Manju to give it up. So poor Manju has a jealous brother who feels he deserves to be the best, a friend pulling him away from cricket, and his father and his coach putting pressure on him to practice every moment he can. It's not altogether surprising that he's confused before he gets to Selection Day, the day on which the big teams pick which young players they will sign.
I love Adiga's depiction of Mumbai or Bombay (names which he uses interchangeably). He shows the poverty, corruption and class divisions quite clearly but, unlike some of the (usually ex-pat) Indian writers who love to wallow exclusively in the misery, Adiga also shows the other side – the vibrancy, the struggle for social mobility, the advances of recent years. His characters, even when they're being put through the emotional wringer, manage to have some fun along the way, and the whole atmosphere he portrays lacks the irredeemable hopelessness of so much Indian literature. There's also a good deal of humour, often very perceptive and coming at unexpected moments, startling me into laughter. This book tackles some tough subjects, but on the whole Adiga simply lays the arguments out and leaves the reader to come to her own conclusions – there's no whiff of the polemical in his writing.
“People thought I had a future as a writer, Manju. I wanted to write a great novel about Mumbai,” the principal said, playing with her glasses. “But then...then I began, and I could not write it. The only thing I could write about, in fact, was that I couldn't write about the city.
“The sun, which I can't describe like Homer, rises over Mumbai, which I can't describe like Salman Rushdie, creating new moral dilemmas for all of us, which I won't be able to describe like Amitav Ghosh.”
There is, however, some great characterisation, and he writes about them empathetically so that it's hard not to see why even the less savoury characters have turned out as they have. One of the things I loved was seeing how the perception of Mohan, the boys' father, changed as they grew up. This man who loomed over them in childhood shrinks as they grow – both physically and in terms of his influence. It's the mark of the quality of Adiga's writing that this happens so gradually there's no jarring moment, but towards the end I realised I had come to feel about him quite differently than I had in the beginning.
For me, this was a slow-burn book. It took at least a third of the book before I was convinced that this tale of cricketing brothers was going to hold my interest. But as it progressed, I began to appreciate the subtlety with which Adiga was showing various aspects of contemporary Indian life, and as always I found his writing pure pleasure to read. And by the time I reached the end, I found he had again created some characters who had become real to me, in the way Masterji did in his excellent [b:Last Man in Tower|10854908|Last Man in Tower|Aravind Adiga|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1328165348s/10854908.jpg|15021310]. This book confirms Adiga's place as one of my favourite authors, and gets my wholehearted recommendation.
NB This book was provided for review by the publisher, Scribner.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
juliemowat's review against another edition
2.0
Very confusing book and ultimately too depressing for me at this time. I almost stopped reading a few times but was curious. I am glad I finished due to the ending but still way too depressing
pmovereem's review against another edition
4.0
If you enjoy novels by serious writers (this one does have a sense of humor), you need to read one of Adiga's three thus far. This is the least-great, but anyone who can write a book about cricket (and modern India) and not lose the reader's attention has some special powers.
isering's review against another edition
4.0
Don't get this book if you don't know anything about cricket!
Really drew me in, I finished it quite quickly. Probably not quite as good as the White Tiger but the same tinge of madness in the prose.
Really drew me in, I finished it quite quickly. Probably not quite as good as the White Tiger but the same tinge of madness in the prose.
carladash's review against another edition
3.0
An odd book. I neither particularly liked nor disliked the main characters. I found the way the narration dipped in and out of different characters' heads sometimes confusing, sometimes off-putting. I kept expecting a turn in the protagonist's arc that never materialized, which was frustrating but also, I think, the main, purposeful tragedy of the book. Ultimately, it was OK. But I kept wishing I liked it better.
juniperd's review
disappointing as i had been anticipating this new novel quite a bit.
DNF -- stopped reading at page 98 as my interest just wasn't being held and i found the prose stilted and dry. perhaps it's the timing of the read? may return to it at a later time. maybe. for now, just really not enjoying it at all.
* advanced review copy provided by simon & schuster canada, with thanks and appreciation, in return for an honest review.
DNF -- stopped reading at page 98 as my interest just wasn't being held and i found the prose stilted and dry. perhaps it's the timing of the read? may return to it at a later time. maybe. for now, just really not enjoying it at all.
* advanced review copy provided by simon & schuster canada, with thanks and appreciation, in return for an honest review.
leighgoodmark's review against another edition
3.0
Didn't live up to the hype. Never got a good feel for who the characters were as people-and Manju's storyline felt forced.