Shantaram: A Novel
by Gregory David Roberts
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Book Reviews of Shantaram: A Novel
Book Review: Slumdog Superman
Summary: 3 Stars
This book reminds me of another cinder block epic about a heroic white guy in an eastern country, that book being Shogun. Both were full of new discoveries, strange worlds, and various epiphanies about life and how others view it and live it. Additionally, both were heavy on clichés, white heroes in foreign lands, and disappointing endings. Not coincidentally, Gregory David Roberts' massive roman à clef left me with the same mixed feelings I had for Clavell's door stop. Most of the less favorable reviews have harped on the same points: the book is far too long, Roberts' style can be painfully verbose, tedious, and sophomoric, and the character Lin becomes increasingly more unsavory and his exploits less believable to sustain the reader's interest.
Specifically, Roberts rambles on so often and for so long that what are initially very observant and occasionally poignant passages, soon morph into tiresome philosophical ramblings that are reduced to fortune cookie pabulum due to their constant infusion in the text. Further, the main character Lin is a sympathetic hard-luck guy in the beginning, but by the midpoint of the story he has turned into a Hollywood action hero and Roberts/Lin is compelled to constantly remind us of how amazing his life story has been and how selfless, understanding, courageous, thoughtful, and thoroughly bad-ass he is. Even when he tries to play up his weaknesses; the self-doubt, the abandonment of his family, his addictions, etc., it's remarkably devoid of lessons learned. This is not a tale of redemption despite what Roberts intended, but rather an unending fish tale.
Despite the faults, however, the story does read pretty well at times. He paints a vivid and enticing portrait of India, an even more remarkable job considering the parts of that country where much of the story takes place. As has been widely agreed upon, the first third of the book is very engaging. I would've loved this book if it had simply stopped after he set up his slum infirmary, but unfortunately, that's not even half way through. Make no mistake; he has indeed lived a stunning life. Merely reading the back cover will have your jaw drop a little. And yet, that's the problem. Roberts' ego and fascination with his own life refuse to yield to editing and that's where this book fails the reader. He cashes in the goodwill he spent several hundred pages cultivating and, by the end, I felt his character had long overstayed his visit and had now become a self-aggrandizing boor. What could've been something special and life-affirming ended up leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I felt emotionally betrayed by the author. To spend so much time cultivating a beautiful flower only to piss on it is a huge waste.
It's hard to recommend a book that is nearly a thousand pages long because the investment needed is so great. It's one thing to read a novel of a few hundred pages and find out you didn't care for it. It's quite another to spend hours and weeks and perhaps months trying to get through a book that doesn't have that much to say and could've easily said it with far fewer words.
Book Review: "Too many notes"
Summary: 1 Stars
Diary of what became a very reluctant reader
Day 1. Okay, let's make some time and do this thing. Two years ago a friend gave me a copy. She was lyrical about it. Couldn't tell me why, and answered my questions only with a "You just have to read it... I can't spoil the plot now, can I?" The close to a thousand pages kept me far from ever picking it up. But now I feel ready. Let's do this thing.
Day 2. Am close to page 100 now, and I'm not sure why so many people praise this book as enthusiastically as they do... I find his style of writing utter boring, with the Usual Suspects filling the pages: expats somewhere in a tropical city, frequenting a lousy watering hole, being involved with sex, drugs and rock 'n roll. Gosh, how extremely un-original can one be...?
Another thing that's really bothering me, is the excessive amounts of useless blabber. Could the editors not have taken out their red pens and do what they're supposed to do: take out all dead wood? Maybe it'll come to me, later on. Let's give the next 100 pages a try. Only 800 to go till the end.
Day 7. I've started reading diagonally. The man needs way too many words to tell a story. And it's sooooo badly written too... Sad! Will I give up, or shall I give it another try? Okay, to the author's credit: I have actually earmarked a page because I liked some of his sentences. A meager harvest, after close to 200 pages. Most authors are winding up their storylines now, heading for some kind of mesmerising finale. This man is still picking up pace; going nowhere in particular - apart from another deep dive into his memory, regurgitating conversations he once had that, for any other author, should not have made it into a book. And I honestly don't see him get anywhere close to my heart...
Okay, to the author's credit, I did like this part: "...some feelings sink so deep into the heart that only loneliness can help you find them again. Some truths about yourself are so painful that only shame can help you live with them. And some things are just so sad that only your soul can do the crying for you."
Day 10. Finished the first part. Only 780 pages to go.
It's a very long time ago that it took me this long to read a book.
Why on earth did my friend like it so much?
Day 15. Drastic measures are required. I'm upping the pace of my speed reading. Page 286.
Day 18. That is it. I've given it another 100 pages and have gone beyond the magical 1/3 limit. This clearly isn't working. For the first time in a very, very, very long time I decide to put the book back on the shelves. Unfinished.
It reminds me of this scene in the movie Amadeus, about Mozart. The composer plays a piece for the emperor who can't get too excited and, based on the words of his adviser, says, "Too many notes..." The barbarian! How dare he?
But its exactly what I feel about Shantaram.
A quick calculation tells me the book contains about 300,000 words.
Even half of that would have been on the rich side.
No.
Not for me.
Book Review: A Bollywood biography
Summary: 3 Stars
While reading 'Shantaram' I thought that it was supposed to be a truthful memoir of Gregory David Roberts' experiences as an exile in India (this belief was encouraged by the bio on the back of the book). As such, I was amazed at the variety and intensity of the events, and the incredible characters. While it may describe incredible things, there is no inherent impossibility that these things might have happened to someone once. However, Wikipedia tells me that the story is largely fictional, so that changes my opinion a lot. As a memoir, it reads as a kind of 'bollywoodisation' of real life, as Roberts elevates the style of prose and description so far into the stratosphere of melodrama that it disappears from view. For the life of me I couldn't figure out what was supposed to be happening in the romantic scenes, they disappeared into a thick jungle of metaphor and never reappeared. But as a tale spun out of a few real events, it makes more sense but is less compelling. It is like a (slightly) more realistic and self-indulgent Wilbur Smith.
'Linbaba' is the nickname given to the protagonist, a convict on the run who stops in Bombay and is enthralled by its complex and exotic life. He gets involved in the local criminal underworld, spends time living in a slum as a doctor, is thrown into a wretched Bombay prison, takes part in an expedition into Afghanistan to deliver weapons to rebels fighting the Russians, and finds the time to have a complicated romance with a mysterious woman. When I write it like that, it is more difficult to see why I thought it was factual. Though I did have my doubts when Linbaba engages in a knifefight with identical twin eunuchs who work for a deranged Russian madam.
This is a very readable book, and the 800 pages or so fly by very quickly. Roberts is a bit addicted to the narrative device of saying 'if I had realised _____ at the time, maybe everything would have been different', but it keeps you wondering what will happen next. There is a great deal of homespun philosophy that is every bit as compelling as you expect the philosophy in what is essentially a romance novel to be. At one point one of the characters proposes that the world is run by one million powerful and wealthy men, ten million men who fight for and protect them, and one hundred million bureaucrats who administer the system. The rest of us just do as we are told. Linbaba, with his desperation, need for affirmation, and rampant narcissism, is a fine picture of why a man becomes one of the 'ten million'.
This review was written in blood, the prison guards viciously beating me every day until I decided to stop writing it. But I never gave up, because I knew that the woman who loved me was waiting to dissolve the lozenge of our hearts in the fire of our passion. I look into her eyes and we tell each other a million stories, dying and rising again through ages of ages. Maybe that is why fate chooses men like me to be her plaything, because if you live like a shadow, you will die alone like a shadow, in the heart of the volcano that is Bombay.
Book Review: A huge story with flaws to match its size.
Summary: 4 Stars
Rarely have I read a book that inspired such mixed feelings. I want to emphasize right away that I really enjoyed this book and I've given it four stars despite exasperating faults because the story and story-telling are so enthralling. That said, I struggled with the faults from cover to cover and they truly detract from what could be a five-star novel.
First, the good. Roberts is a gifted story-teller. He has a knack for parceling out pieces of the story in such a manner that you continuously get new information, but constantly want more of the story. It's the recipe for an engrossing read.
Beyond that, Roberts creates some great characters. Some reviews say the characters are straight out of central casting and/or are two-dimensional. The first claim is frequently true, but the second usually misses its mark. One of the things that makes this book strong is the life that Roberts breathes into many of the characters and their relationships with one another. You tangibly feel Roberts affection for the people he describes and it separates this book from most others, making it a worthwhile read.
The story itself is apparently based on Roberts' own experiences and is gargantuan. This becomes a strength and a flaw. The novel has an epic quality to it, which is great, but by the end, you feel like you've traveled too far, gone too many places and experienced too many things too many times and you're just ready to be done. Making the reader feel the hero's feelings may even be the intention of the book, but if that's the case, it would be better to experience the hero's fatigue because of the prose, not because of its length.
With that, let's move on to the less-than-great aspects of the book. Roberts is absurdly fond of metaphor and deep philosophical meaning and never misses an opportunity to throw in either or - better yet - both. So you get writing like, "The betrayal was an unsharpened butter knife twisting in the part of my gut just below my ribs, but above my belly button. I knew as the insidious emotion viciously attacked the core of my being that his words had been true; trust never is given for free, it always exacts a price in the end." I made that one up for you, but the book is filled with examples that blow it out of the water on the laughter/nausea meter.
Too many of the characters in the book are amateur philosophers, constantly ready with a treatise on any topic at any time. It rings hollow. Roberts also loves to describe contrasting emotions being present at the same time, "His lips smiled while his eyes frowned." I think some variant of that concept appears about 50 times in the book. Enough!
None of that keeps Shantaram from being a very strong book, it just keeps it from being the book that it might have been and puts it into the category of something a little too over-the-top. Despite the distractions, I really enjoyed this book and recommend it.
Book Review: Great Story
Summary: 4 Stars
I found Shantaram at Target just days after returning from India. You may have well already imagined that I had fallen in love with the countries. I know what a dichotomy, France and India as two of my favorite cities. Surprisingly there were plenty of French on vacation in India. I am a restless person and sitting on a plane for about 24 hours as I made my way to Asia did not have a lot of appeal to me. This was back in 05 I believe when Sudoka was slowly overtaking the nation. I had brought my book of Sudoka with me and I remember sitting on a plane on one of the domestic flights in India next to a French man. He was rather forward and literally was trying to learn how to play Sudoka over my shoulder. So obviously I taught him how to play Sudoka and ripped a few pages out of my book so he would have his games.
I honestly cannot remember what drew me in to the book, I just knew I had to read it. Ironically enough one of my friends from the trip was at a party that weekend and called me to tell me about a book someone had mentioned to him given he had just returned from India. Shocking it was Shantaram.
Shantaram is not a memoir, yet is a memoir. While author Roberts does not write his story, the book is based on his story. It is only apropos that author Roberts, would travel to India, as his life is as colorful and chaotic as the streets of New Delhi. As a former Australian journalist, Roberts succumbed to a nasty heroin habit. In the throes of desperation and frustration over losing custody of his daughter he robs banks, only to receive a 19 year prison sentence. Escaping from an Australian prison he finds himself in Mumbai, India.
His time here is full of both adventure and misfortune. Roberts is quick to befriend the Indian people living amongst them in the slums. His training as a paramedic elevates his status to that as a hero as he helps the slum dwellers with their ailments. Backed by the local mafia, Roberts is given access to whatever medication he needs to assist the locals. Without spoiling the story for you, his other occupations include, drug dealing and Bollywood.
For me a good book is one that appeals to my senses. Shantaram does that are more for me. Given I read it on the eve of returning from India, I appreciated his colorful descriptions of the streets and people. I am not going to pretend that I spent and times in the slums of India, although I saw plenty of people in need. Roberts had me walking aside him down the streets of Mumbai. I could smell the scent of curry wafting through the air and heard the cacophony of the city. This book was India.
I was struck by the relationships Roberts developed with the locals. He was kind to all and helped where he could. To tempt you to read the book I will tell you that as a fugitive and one of Australia's most wanted men he did get caught.