To me this book is pretty much an Indian
version of Ian McEwan’s Atonement (or
probably the other way around, considering the years of publication of the two
works). Yet, for much that I loved McEwan’s book, this one left me rather
unmoved.
In both books the poor suffer and the rich get
on with their lives (there is very little atonement – if at all – in both
cases, at least in my opinion). The difference is that here the children are the
ones being manipulated and they are not manipulating adults. Maybe that’s what
I didn’t like about the book. Or maybe it’s the excessively romanticized scenes
of inter-cast love. Or maybe it’s the myth of Oxbridge across the world that
just annoys the hell out of me. I wish the Indian communists were given more of
an actual role, rather than being left just on the side (crucial, but still on
the side). I had really high expectations from this book. They just weren’t
met.
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