Customer Reviews

Hullabaloo in the Guava Orchard: Complete & Unabridged

5 star:		(33)
4 star:		(9)
3 star:		(9)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

It has been some time since I read this delightful book, so all of its details aren't crystal clear to me now. But I feel like I must respond to those (both here and in a few periodicals) who claim Desai wrote this book for a "Western" audience. I don't think Desai wrote this book for any other reason than the sheer joy of putting together a fun, sharp story. This is no Oprah's book of the month marketing hogwash here, and it is preposterous to claim that Desai was "targeting" an audience at all, except, perhaps, the audience that simply enjoys a story for the story's sake. When I checked her biography on the book's jacket, I didn't see anything referring to her obtaining a degree in marketing. I think this is a stimulating and beautifully written first novel by a young writer who probably had no alterior motives in writing it except to tell a story. One recent reviewer here stated that Desai was trying "to show how the East really is ... whether it is like that or not" and used a sentence - a single sentence mind you! - as proof of that point. C'mon. Lighten up. This is a nice piece of fiction and it should be enjoyed for what it is, not for what hypersensitive, politically charged minds think it is trying to be. I do understand the criticism of the ending. But I would suggest that those who didn't "get it" go back and read the last few pages again. I love the way the events leading up to the last sentence begins crescendoing a few pages before. It was almost (cliche alert) like a jazz composition in its thought and rhythm. Read it out loud (that is how I enjoyed it fully) and you'll see what I mean. And it does come to a Bang! stop. I don't think there is anything wrong with that. Going back to the jazz metaphor, it snapped me back to the reality of self and forced me to think about what it was that I had just read, like a composition that ends on a beautifully punctuated note. No cushy fadeaway scenes here - which are, by the way, the preferred ending for those "targeting" the "Western" audience.

A book with profusion of words evoking images and ideas, a book with a very refined sense of humour which will nevertheless make you laugh out loud; not merely smirk, a book with a stronger regional flavour than any other indian author i've read, a book so so simple in its construction yet so all encompassing...what more can i say! Kiran Desai though residing out of india writes with such minute detail about the commonplace in indian suburbia. She does not describe the beauty of the local mountains or rivers as some other indian authors do, or portray the traditions and customs of the region; she goes to the very daily life of the characters with which any reader can connect it with. The scene in which sampath is sleeping in a hot room full of snoring people or the scene in which his father upbraids him for his lack of enthusiasm and initiative in life are occurances the ordianry reader must have gone through and yet one cant but help but laughing at the way in which these domestic senes are described.

The characters are also very well developed and though there being nothing extraordinary about the characters(in fact u might find most of them in your home or in the neighbourhood) each of them has some idiosyncracy. For example the extremely epicurean sampath's mother, Pinky's vainglory, sampath's father being very worldly wise and seeing an opportunity of making money where others might fear a loss, and of course sampath of whom i need say nothing about.

The ending though others say is wierd or some others dont understand is i think the best way to end this type of book. One must'nt expect a logical or rational ending to a book which is one of the best works of creative writing that i have ever read. the ending is equally creative. Another critisism of this book is that it could be written better, it was very simply written. My answer to that is in the title of the review. Anyways the book is not as simple as it seems at first sight. Its a microcosm for humanity. It depicts the eternal struggle for personal space, the human tendency to make profits out of any situation, and the eternal pursuit of happiness by all in their own different ways.

Its a bit of Douglas Adams, Salman Rushdie, Joseph Heller and Tolstoy. U cant afford to miss this one

Ordinarily, a twenty-something year old writer cannot very well delve deeply into the character or soul of the lead characters. But, this is not an ordinary book written by an ordinary writer.

Young Desai elicits many of her origin country's (Indian) mannerisms in this delightful farce about her native people's askance perspective of a simple boy (Sampath) whose Forrest-Gump-like maturation emerges into a world of prophecy and surreal mysticism. His life remains basically the same, but the "others'" changed perspective delivers him from simpleton embarrassment (failure at school and work while attempting to become part of Indian society) to his family (the Chawla family of Shahkot) to being the revered worldly saint of the Indian press - who report his pithy witticisms espoused by he while living in a giant guava tree with his beloved soulmates -- monkeys.

The book's vision delightfully dances about Sampath's human frailty to emerging into the godly world within an unsuspecting orchard for the first 120 pages. Thereafter, the book's tone turns drastically to cynicism toward Sampath's ardor as his godly route bedevils the adults and bureaucrats around him. Their intrusions compel Sampath to be extracted from his wonderful life of simpleton whose quest for happiness is to extol his life's value to those he most adores -- the monkeys who join him in the great guava tree in the guava orchard.

Good intentions deliver bad results as the child-like simplicity of Sampath cannot co-exist with the regimen of Indian adult life. The believers, who wish to keep their iconic leader in the tree, must take a back seat to the requests of safety, rules and regulations enforced by the others - most particularly the bureaucrats. It delivers nothing but sadness for everyone involved.

Commencing with exhilarating humor for the first 120 pages, the book sinks into a deep funk for the last 90 pages. In an E.T.-like adventure, the adults -- those who are deemed normal -- ruin a wonderful and fantastic journey of a great and imaginative soul. Personally, I wished for a fantastic fantasy ending, instead we receive a fantasy ending, full of sadness and lorn.

This book delivers giggles and tears and ends with the latter. Even if it ends differently than I would have chosen, this novel is well worth a fun day's read.

I'd like to add my two cents' worth to the question of whether this book was written "for a western audience" - nonsense! It's for anyone, Western or Eastern, Southern or Northern, as long as they enjoy a funny story and an unerring, sharp-eyed take on humanity. And, not to get technical, but this book follows a traditional Indian form of literature, the story of the reluctant guru (of which probably RK Narayan's classic "The Guide" is the best-known example in the West). And the humor (speaking as someone who has lived there) is very typically Indian. It's really a wonderful book - to be enjoyed!

I agree with many that much of the text is witty and sumptuously written. As well, the characters are enjoyable and the situations inventive, and the story builds very promisingly. It's enjoyable writing but not hilarious, please. Does it remind anyone else of Vonnegut?

However, I have rarely been so disappointed by a book's ending. I'm not confused about what happened, merely why the author thought it was a good idea. In trying to wrap things up neatly, the author "closes off" the characters abruptly and resolves ... what?

If you ever feel left behind by modern literature, this is probably not the book for you. To this philistine, it ultimately felt rather pointless.

This is a book that anyone looking for humour with a large portion of wisdom will enjoy.

Sampat's initial retreat from the town and ultimate retreat into himself is very well conceptualized. Read this book for its characterization, its humour, it's people, the hilarious series of events that end in its denouement and the sense of a better-than-imagined future to come.

The basic outline of this story is covered by other reviews. The eccentricities of the characters appeal yet I found the story rather unsatisfying. There are many aspects that seem to end unresolved. I was left feeling that this had the potential to be an excellent piece of writing but ended up as a modest imitation of a style that has been bettered by others. Bizarre though it may seem, the overriding thought that went through my mind as the days in the Tree passed was: "does he climb down to use a lavatory?" I found the characters quite believable - I have visited India and - if it is not a contradiction - think eccentricity is the norm. I liked the various solutions dreamt up by the medic etc but these people were thinly painted and worth more attention. The concept of a post office clerk withdrawing into the sanctuary of a tree house out of tedium and a sense of non-belonging struck me as sensible and an entirely desirable way of life. The gentle poking of fun at the 'pilgrims' and the philosophy of the hermit are nicely drawn, but not exceptional. This is a book that you can read quite quickly and without taxing the mind. For me it lacked depth and needed an extra dimension. That said its probably ideal for whiling away a couple of hours on an aeroplane. I did not find it the work of a newly discovered star authoress which is probably a cast iron guarantee that Kiran Desai is destined for great things.

India has often been depicted as a mystic land of Sadhus, strange magic charms, spicy exotic cuisine and intricate religious rituals by the West. Kiran Desai's book is a brilliant satire that makes light of these theories in a comical manner. A satire that has social, political, economical, filial and even spiritual dimensions wrapped in layers of absurd humour with a dash of fantasy, the book raises some significant questions on the world and it's mad ways that applies not only to the fictitious town of Shahkot, but equally to any other part of India.

Sampath, the main protagonist is a dull young man whose absolute lack of common sense and ambition is made up for by his fertile imagination and deliriously free spirit that lead him to seek asylum in a guava tree in an abandoned orchard when he feels that life is going out of control. But madness is a hereditary trait of Sampath's family - his mother Kulfi is obsessed with food in it's various forms, his ambitious father is obsessed with money and his sister Pinky is a droll and foolish girl infatuated with the Hungry Hop Kwality ice cream boy.

Having spent his days as a post office clerk reading the town's incoming mail, Sampath finds it easy to pose as a clairvoyant holy man, a situation of which his family promptly takes advantage. He is joined by a group of monkeys on the treetop and earns the title of `Monkey Baba' - Devotees start flocking to Shahkot to see the `Baba' and Sampath's father seizes the opportunity to make some fast money out of the situation. But things take a crazy turn as the monkeys turn alcoholic, and pose a threat to the devotees' conglomeration as well as Sampath's family camping at the foot of the tree. Different people offer a variety of solutions for eliminating the monkey menace and Sampath finds himself in an obscure predicament.

Things take an even more bizarre turn as Pinky plans to elope with the ice cream boy, and Kulfi gets determined to catch and cook a monkey before they are chased away. All these events and more culminate in an extremely amusing medley of a climax, and an abrupt ending that has shades of fantasy.

Amidst such fun-filled incidents and livid descriptions of sporadic monsoons arriving late on summer-exhausted Shahkot, idyllic orchards bordering the hills outside the town and fantastic cooking with never-heard-of recipes, Ms.Desai brings out the various hues and flavours of human character. Several thought-provoking messages are dispersed throughout the book in a subtle manner making it much more than a simple light-hearted comedy.

Ms.Desai has a remarkable gift for humour - The sections highlighting the desirable qualities of an Indian bride, Pinky's and Ammaji's adventure with the cinema monkey that takes them a merry chase holding ice creams and Ammaji's dentures in tow and Pinky's ludicrous affair with Hungry Hop among others are sure to have the reader in splits of laughter.

A protagonist with a difference who seeks nothing except solitude in a shady spot, his eccentric family members, hypochondriac officials, prosaic civil servants, lackadaisical postmasters, a bunch of gullible `devotees' and a group of alcoholic monkeys together create an extremely delightful tale that transports the reader to a world where life is slow, time moves at its own pace and yet reflects the varied dimensions of existence in the present day with all of it's plastic nuances.

Kiran Desai's debut novel came with praise from all quarters - reputable ones, I might add - and therefore the sense of disappointment was perhaps all the more acute. Everything is there - great style, wonderful wit, wonderfully drawn characters that remind you of Catch-22: well, everything except a plot. Had it been a short story, I would have loved it. As a 176-page full-length novel, I would not recommend it.

For me, reading Hullabaloo in the Guava Orchard was a case of 'purchase in haste; regret slowly'. I missed seeing the "YA" notation in the editorial reviews, then I was thoroughly swept away by most of the reader reviews, so I was expecting another work on par with Arundhati Roy or Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni. I stayed with Hullabaloo for the whole ride, expecting a clever pay-off at the ending...instead, I felt taken for a ride. Maybe it's OK for Young Adult fiction (but my young teenage daughter has already moved into a more challenging reading level). I hope Inheritance of Loss will be better--I'll still give it a try.