Customer Reviews

City of Joy

5 star:		(22)
4 star:		(5)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(6)

 

 

This is a story of hearts in Calcutta. Dominique Lapierre, world-renowned journalist and author, narrates and interviews the lives and struggles - eventually intertwined - of Hasari Pal (a peasant driven to the city by a drought which devastates his village), Stephan Kovalski (a Polish priest seeking to identify with the poorest of the poor, and getting more than he bargained for in the slums of Anand Nagar) and Max Loeb (a Jewish-American medical grad responding to Kovalski's invitation to help out for a year).

Everything revolves around the 'City of Joy', the name given to the slum of Anand Nagar in the heart of Calcutta. Lapierre's descriptions are fascinating and insightful in their detail and colour as they are horrifying and unbelievably stark in their vividness and actuality. He opens us up to the afflictions, hardships, rituals and occasionally care-free living of lepers, rickshaw pullers, eunuchs, peasants, scrap yard rag-pickers and hovel life in the slum. He explains the intricate and wondrous minutiae of Indian wedding negotiations, festivals, funerals, even toilet rituals; the scheming and inhumanity behind the blood (and skeleton!) donation business, the foetus trade business, the rickshaw business, mafia operations; the sad and almost comical inefficiencies of a Calcutta post-office, hospitals, traffic control; the horrendous adversities brought by floods, droughts, scorching summers, even a cyclone. Along the way we're also treated to an exciting kite-war, fought between child and adult alike along the slum's rooftops, plus a glimpse of Mother Teresa's ministry in the Home for Dying Destitutes beside the Temple of Kali.

For the poor, even their only source of joy - their families and dreams - are vulnerable to separation and shatter.

A family living on a pavement reluctantly and sorrowfully agrees to let their children beg for food when their father can no longer give them food, even after donating blood from his severely under-nourished body (the donation centre extracts surplus blood from him, causing him to faint). The father eventually becomes a rickshaw puller - after his predecessor loses a leg and dies a few days later in hospital - and is overjoyed despite having to run hundreds of miles in the heat and rain, suffer the humiliating treatment meted out by his passengers and people on the street, and risk the loss of his rickshaw from corrupt authorities. A mother seeks to alleviate her family's food problems (she and her husband has to feed four kids - not to mention themselves - with only a handful of rupees a month) by selling her then-unborn baby for experiment purposes. But the operation, performed in a sleazy 'operating room' by even sleazier characters, goes awry. She bleeds helplessly, and the traders take her foetus and relief her of the upfront money she received. Worst of all, she's left for dead, becoming a target for the corpse business. And her family doesn't know and never sees her again. A cyclone destroys an entire area of hovels and fills the streets with excrement, filth and carcasses. A defender of the rights of rickshaw pullers (who live hand to mouth and cannot afford a rise in 'taxes', as opposed to rickshaw owners who live fat, comfortable lives) is shot in the head after a successful campaign; a clinic for lepers is destroyed by thugs with zero-toleration for the non-payment of 'protection money', ridiculously high especially given the extant poverty; a rickshaw puller dives into a row of burning rickshaws to save his 'bread and butter' (confiscated and condemned for profit motives); a father breaks his back to produce a dowry and make wedding arrangements for his daughter and dies of sheer exhaustion in the middle of the ceremony, his body instantly collected by human bone traders.

The list goes on. Yet the book is filled with expressions of awe and sheer emotion by the main characters, through whose eyes we see the acts of selflessness, giving and caring which permeates slum-life, in spite of the numerous tragedies and heartaches experienced. There is just so much sharing going on in the book, even by those who have almost nothing for themselves, you'd suspect that giving is an occasion independent of circumstances and resources. This speaks powerfully to our modern calloused hearts, often desensitized to the poverty and pain of the world (yet strangely overwhelmed by the self-inflicted stress of greed, ambition of urban society). The City of Joy shows us the joy and celebration in the midst of utter destitution, in a world where starvation, sickness and filth (the word-count for 'excrement' is in the dozens) are integral to life. It reveals hope and delight from the simples of things, the barest of providence. And it teaches that in the thick of demonic conditions, hopelessness and tragedy, the greatness and beauty of love shines through.

This book should also be a wake-up call for Christians to be more faithful 'lights' to the world, a reminder that love and self-giving is how we must touch the world. Christ's love, expressed in our compassion, is probably the only form of Gospel having any currency in the slums of the world. Yet how we fall short of Mother Teresa's - and God's - timeless instruction, given to a volunteer regarding a dying man (told midway through the book), "Love him...love him with all your might."

Some of the inhabitants of the City of Joy are role models of devotion and loyalty to what one believes. The numerous prayers and quite thanksgivings of the slum- (and pavement) dwellers reveal a continuous integration of 'religion' and 'daily life' sadly missing in many a Christian. Lapierre narrates, maybe without knowing it, 'true religion' in the story of Hasari Pal and many other Hindus and Muslims in the slums.

The reality of the lives in the City of Joy will be an everlasting reminder of how far and deep the love of God can reach. The City of Joy can show me, if I pay attention, how lovely will be the City of God.

No other book I had ever read has ever made me more proud about the fact that I am an Indian or importantly, a human being. The moving story, that the author claims is based on facts is probably based on a true one. What is truly remarkable though, is the fact that this is probably not an unusual story or for that matter even an uncommon one! It happens, more so in India that anywhere else, despite 200 years of British rule the Western had not been able to take from these people what they prize most, their dignity. People trying to live a decent life, who hope to live with at least an ounce of self-respect going to great extremes to attain it.

It doesn't surprise me to know this today, nor does it surprise me to know it took so long for the world to know this. What amazes me is that so many Indians have written such bad reviews about this book. It seems ironic that a book that tells a story about the majority of Indians who are uneducated is not appreciated by the minority that are. It makes sense though. This book doesn't directly attempt to glorify India's culture, its traditions or values. Instead it speaks about the bitter realities of a ghetto that almost all educated Indians with a modern outlook likes to pretend don't exist. These are the people that Westerners mostly interact with, these are the people who want to impress India to the rest of the world, and the truths in this book are not what they would think is impressive. It still impressive none the less. In fact it is more than impressive that even at the lowest of low of economic degradation a man can still try to live a life of dignity - the kind that every human being deserves to live with.

IF AFTER READING THIS BOOK YOU SHED A TEAR, either of joy or sorrow, GO TO THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE MOST AND TELL THEM HOW MUCH YOU LOVE THEM, thank them for who they are and after that thank God for the beauty that is your life and lastly thank yourself because you are a wonderful human-being.

The theme of this book is really worth to read. A missionary comes to India to service poor people and live with them, participate in their joy and sorrow of them really makes you gel with the book. But I don't understand the view of the foreigner's about the sanitation condition of India(from Seinfeld to this authour). They always view that as an adventure(true it is disgusting in some places, including where I lived) and wanted to explain that ad nauseum, but my suggestion would be India is not a land of lacking sanitation and dirt as the media claims in the other side of the world. It has its true colors and history and people who dedicated their life like Mother Teresa. Please write about them. Another thing to mention about is referring Kama Sutra(like mentioning drug cartels in most of the south american books). Please note that in majority of Indian home, Kama Sutra book is viewed as Playboy or PlayGirl in a conservsative american home.

Apart from that, this book never wavered from the reality. About a peasant's life, how his life turns upside down when the city takes him in, how the missionary adapts the life in India and how the rich and poor view their life has been well documented. Definetly worth to read.

In Dominique LaPierre's book, "The City of Joy" we learn of the struggles of every day families trying to survive in the abject poverty of Calcutta, India.

The streets of Calcutta come alive in "The City of Joy" as we read about the struggles of a rickshaw driver and his family and an American priest trying to become accepted into the culture of Calcutta. We learn of the efforts of people like Mother Teresa to help the poorest of the poor in Calcutta, the lepers.

I have not seen the movie based on this book, but if it is half as good as the book , I am sure it is great. "The City of Joy" is a book the explores the depths of the human spirit, the strength of human emotion and the desire of a few good people to help. In all of the glory of his other books, LaPierre scores another hit with "The City of Joy." I recommend this book, you will be a better person for having read it. Plus, a percentage of the profits from the book are donated to the ongoing effort to help the lepers in Calcutta.

This is a great spiritual story. Thank goodness there are people with this much care, compassion, love and kindness for their fellow man. It has made me seriously consider life as a missionary. I will take the lessons learned in this book and apply them to my job as a firefighter/paramedic. I pray that we all may find more compassion and paitence when dealing with each other.

"...The 'City of Joy' shall be remembered as the best account of the life of the people in Calcutta's slums; of the city's never-say-die attitude. The book presents a very emotional account of the daily lives of the poor in the city, and makes the reader fall in love with these little heros, who daily fight the battle of life to mete out a subsistence existence. The book is an eye-opener to the people who have never faced the adversities of life. The author has done a brilliant job in portraying the poor with compassion and empathy. A true masterpiece..."

I read this book as part of my education about India before going there with my 19-year-old son to immunize children against polio with the Rotary Foundation. It was an excellent story, although I do agree with some of the other reviewers' comments of glorifying poverty. Since coming home from India, I read the Indian weather reports and think: It is miserable there and I am comfortable here, yet it is not because I am "more worthy." I hate temperatures over 85F, let alone being hot AND dirty AND living on the street, as we saw many times. Despite the poverty, though, what my son and I found amazing was the incredible hospitality --- and concern for us! --- by even the poorest people we met.
Please also read "Gdaan: The Gift of a Cow" and Elisabeth Bumiller's book of India.

I can't agree with all the positive reviews this book got. Yes, it carries you along; yes, I don't doubt these are real people, and that the author really knows his Calcutta. But I was really bugged by Lapierre's "everything's for the best in this best of all possible worlds" attitude.

One episode I remember: a healthy young woman from a poor family being given in arranged marriage to a leper. Lepers, we are informed cosily, have unusually strong sex drives, even though they're dying. The woman, of course, will become part of the leper colony; she will contract leprosy; her children will be lepers. This doesn't bother Lapierre - he paints a charming portrait of the wedding feast - he writes about the tragedy as if, gee, if you look at it in just the right light, folks, it's an affirmation of the life force! This is the treatment everything tragic receives, and we get the idea that the physical plane is easily circumvented, and that if you give it a bit of the old college try, life in Calcutta can put you on a higher spiritual plane, where you're blissfully beyond suffering. It's remisiscent of the Rosicrucian theory that Christ never really suffered on the cross, he controlled the pain with his psychic powers.

No, I've never been to Calcutta but my husband is from the area - he used to have to go there occasionally for business purposes, and he said that after an hour he always had a severe headache from the clamor, dust, and car fumes. Why is smog a horrible thing in L.A. or Paris, but just another aid to a higher plane in Calcutta?

I don't doubt it's possible to find happiness in Calcutta, and I am sure many good people can be found there. I don't even argue with the idea that we first-world people can't appreciate life the way people who live on the edge do. But "The City of Joy" is just too facile. I was glad to hear of the protests staged by Calcuttans when "City of Joy" the movie was being shot in the slums.

I got much more out of the description of Calcutta found in chapter 5 of "India: A Million Mutinies Now" by V.S. Naipaul.

This is a powerful book that made me feel what life might be like, day to day, as one of the poorest people on earth. Its accumulation of unsparing detail, and refusal to opt for feel-good resolutions, make a strong impact. Calcutta is simply beyond verbal description, but Lapierre does his best to render it a real and tangible place to the reader.

I gave it only three stars because it has no subtlety, and at times sensationalizes Calcutta's problems. I've always had qualms about novels and films that wring entertainment out of human suffering, but this book usually avoids being such an offender. At times, also, the Indian characters are portrayed with condescension; real street people in Calcutta are a lot less childlike and more like you and me than the naifs Lapierre describes. Besides these, the only flaw was the wooden prose style, which may have been the fault of the English translation.

All in all it is a rich and inspiring testament to the resiliance of the human spirit--not literature, but outstanding fiction/non-fiction. I read it while volunteering in Calcutta, so other readers unfamiliar with the city and its problems might enjoy it more.

If you've never been to India, this book will take you there. Through the eyes of the main character you will see the beauty and soul of the one of the poorest and richest countries on the planet.

I'm going to insist my teenage son read this book this summer!