I picked-up this book when I was in Kerala...sheer boredom made me ignore all prior warnings sent to me by well meaning friends...I am sort of i-can-wade-thru-anything kind of reader...how bad could it be?
As it turned out - plenty!
I lasted less than 50 pages...I finally gave up when I read though some endless description of rain falling in some garden (it may well have been something/somebody else falling somewhere/anywhere/nowhere - hard to be sure when your mind is in a spin).
Basically - no storyline...just endless rows of words strung beautifully together. Looks like in an attempt to justify their writing in English, these writers try to demonstrate that their felicity with the language is better than the Englishmen. Good attempt, but words alone not maketh a novel ma’am, a decent story does.
Ms. Roy, can you please pass me that Tolkien? Thank you!