From Publishers Weekly
Jha, executive editor of the Indian Express and author of the critically acclaimed novel The Blue Bedspread, returns with a dark, impressionistic collage about collective history and the unseen connections between people and events. Divided into three nearly discrete stories, the novel follows a set of intertwined characters across a blighted Indian city, in which the poor and the rich live segregated, vastly different lives. Amir, a letter writer for the postal office, meets and falls in love with wealthy Rima after a freak tram accident. A newspaper reporter investigates the death of a young girl in a small town and begins to remember her own childhood trauma. When townspeople start killing themselves, a girl tries to protect her parents from a similar fate. How these stories are connected is not immediately obvious; Jha writes in a style that is at once dramatic and unsentimental, relying heavily on the suspenseful ellipsis of mystery to propel readers forward. "There are a thousand and one reasons in this city for children to cry," Amir says, a statement that echoes throughout the book. Like The Blue Bedspread, Jha's second novel contemplates incest and domestic violence through the screen of repressed memory, but it is more self-consciously allegorical, and while rich in poetry, it lacks some of the emotional weight of its predecessor.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
From Booklist
Jha's second novel weaves together three seemingly unrelated tales, bound by fragile ties of dreams and memories. A tram accident in an unnamed Indian city brings together a man and woman from totally different circumstances: he lives in a small apartment with cockroaches, water-pump shutoffs, and power outages; she lives in a high-rise aptly called Paradise Park, where the air-conditioning is "like the wind . . . when the monsoon breaks" and windows of telescopic glass offer glimpses of the sea 500 miles away. Both have dreams of a child crying; then she disappears. A reporter visits a small town where a young girl was raped and murdered, her body found in the local canal. She also experiences weird dreams. Finally, a young girl worries about her parents' demise during a spate of neighborhood suicides. In prose replete with poetic imagery, Jha keeps his readers on the edge, never sure of what is real and what is magic, of what is happening now and what is memory. Deborah Donovan
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
