Disgrace – J M Coetzee

It is never a good idea to review a work of literature based on memory. Subtle nuances and finer detailing of characterizations are lost. That is why I prefer to call this a remembrance of a reading experience (and also a cheat to getting the writing part out of the way before plunging into the next book). Other... Continue Reading →

1/3 Murakami, 1/3 Johnson, 2/3 Rain

1/3 rd Murakami There is an Indian author named Chetan Bhagat. A newly popular writer with simplistic stereotypical stories that do not warrant much attention other than to calibrate maturity levels of readers. Not exactly the deepest fellow doing the rounds in Indian Literature, if you catch my drift. Haruki Murakami reminds me of Chetan Bhagat. Emo kids, mysterious... Continue Reading →

Slaughter House 5

Kurt Vonnegut bases his cult novel Slaughter House 5 on the premise that no one should write about massacre with relish. He writes with flourish, introduces layering and quirkiness but there is no love for the subject. So he is true to his word. But in doing that did he pre empt his own failure?Since... Continue Reading →

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my love affair with Russian literature

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