Lost Interest In Reading Shataram
I recognize that why I give up on a book may be a reflection of my own shortcomings rather than the subject matter or the writer's style or skill. However, I do give up often. Here's one I gave up on.
I stumbled upon Shataram by Gregory David Roberts at the library the other day. Someone was donating the book to the library and just left it outside because the library was closed for another couple of hours. I picked it up. The paperback has a cover picture that with Indian motif and an exotic sepia colored photo of India. It looked interesting, and I like books about encountering different cultures. The book is 936 pages long, but that normally wouldn't deter me from reading a book so long as it can capture my attention.
On Sunday, I decided to devote myself to the book. I told the kids that I was going to read, and that I was getting out of the house to do so. I bought a cup of coffee and parked my car at a park and got ready to enjoy myself by reading the book in the car, my favorite place to concentrate without disturbance from husband or kids.
The first few pages were promising. The main character Lindsay's description of his arrival in Bombay is so masterfully portrayed that I can see, feel and smell the heat, spice, bustle, abject poverty, vibrancy and pride of this foreign city. I wanted to read more. Lindsay's encounter with the locals was also vivid. It seemed realistic for a foreigner to run into all these interesting and yet very human characters in an unfamiliar culture. The Bombay characters wanted Lindsay's business,yet they were not obsequious.
Then, of all people in this exotic wonderful new world that Roberts raves about, he falls in love with a white woman, a Swiss American. Here, I made a mental query: Is this a typical white man falling in love with white woman in exotic land story?" I feared that the rest of the novel will follow the oft explored storyline of exotic natives playing support cast to the white adventurer, white big game hunter, or whatever else that's been done before about white man's world in third world society. Lindsay describes himself as being ugly, so at least he's not viewing himself as the great gift to the natives. Maybe I'm being unfair. So I read more.
Roberts is then initiated into the underworld of Bombay, with intimations of gem, passport, commodities and drug trafficking. By this point, I've no idea where the story was heading, and I've covered 100 pages out of 900 in two and a half hours. I put the book down to get dinner from El Pollo Loco for the kids. I went home and looked up the book on Wikipedia and read that Shantaram is book 2 of a planned 4 book series describing the author's life as an Australian criminal who got involved in crime in Bombay, and eventually found redeption. There will also be a prequel and a sequel taking place in Sri Lanka. Hollywood discovered it at one point with Johnny Depp showing interest in it. At this point, I felt that the book is indeed going to reveal itself as a rascally white man taking risks and putting his life in danger in exotic foreign country and coming out ahead and learning a lesson story. Why else would Hollywood pursue it? I can't imagine myself reading 800 more pages to get this storyline, and I gave up. On top of that, this 900 pages is only part 2 of 4 books?
I think the main reason that I gave up on reading Shantaram is the fact that it's taking too long for a good plot to develop. Despite good writing and a promising start, the book threw so much at me the reader that it lost me when I've no idea after 100 pages where the book is taking me. I just don't want to invest more time into it to find out. Maybe as a stay at home mom, I don't have the time to spend not getting something. The book was donated by someone to the library. Maybe I should have realized that there is a reason why the nice book in seemingly good condition was not a keeper by the owner.
I stumbled upon Shataram by Gregory David Roberts at the library the other day. Someone was donating the book to the library and just left it outside because the library was closed for another couple of hours. I picked it up. The paperback has a cover picture that with Indian motif and an exotic sepia colored photo of India. It looked interesting, and I like books about encountering different cultures. The book is 936 pages long, but that normally wouldn't deter me from reading a book so long as it can capture my attention.
On Sunday, I decided to devote myself to the book. I told the kids that I was going to read, and that I was getting out of the house to do so. I bought a cup of coffee and parked my car at a park and got ready to enjoy myself by reading the book in the car, my favorite place to concentrate without disturbance from husband or kids.
The first few pages were promising. The main character Lindsay's description of his arrival in Bombay is so masterfully portrayed that I can see, feel and smell the heat, spice, bustle, abject poverty, vibrancy and pride of this foreign city. I wanted to read more. Lindsay's encounter with the locals was also vivid. It seemed realistic for a foreigner to run into all these interesting and yet very human characters in an unfamiliar culture. The Bombay characters wanted Lindsay's business,yet they were not obsequious.
Then, of all people in this exotic wonderful new world that Roberts raves about, he falls in love with a white woman, a Swiss American. Here, I made a mental query: Is this a typical white man falling in love with white woman in exotic land story?" I feared that the rest of the novel will follow the oft explored storyline of exotic natives playing support cast to the white adventurer, white big game hunter, or whatever else that's been done before about white man's world in third world society. Lindsay describes himself as being ugly, so at least he's not viewing himself as the great gift to the natives. Maybe I'm being unfair. So I read more.
Roberts is then initiated into the underworld of Bombay, with intimations of gem, passport, commodities and drug trafficking. By this point, I've no idea where the story was heading, and I've covered 100 pages out of 900 in two and a half hours. I put the book down to get dinner from El Pollo Loco for the kids. I went home and looked up the book on Wikipedia and read that Shantaram is book 2 of a planned 4 book series describing the author's life as an Australian criminal who got involved in crime in Bombay, and eventually found redeption. There will also be a prequel and a sequel taking place in Sri Lanka. Hollywood discovered it at one point with Johnny Depp showing interest in it. At this point, I felt that the book is indeed going to reveal itself as a rascally white man taking risks and putting his life in danger in exotic foreign country and coming out ahead and learning a lesson story. Why else would Hollywood pursue it? I can't imagine myself reading 800 more pages to get this storyline, and I gave up. On top of that, this 900 pages is only part 2 of 4 books?
I think the main reason that I gave up on reading Shantaram is the fact that it's taking too long for a good plot to develop. Despite good writing and a promising start, the book threw so much at me the reader that it lost me when I've no idea after 100 pages where the book is taking me. I just don't want to invest more time into it to find out. Maybe as a stay at home mom, I don't have the time to spend not getting something. The book was donated by someone to the library. Maybe I should have realized that there is a reason why the nice book in seemingly good condition was not a keeper by the owner.
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