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15 of 16 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
A promising debut marred by its poor ending, June 5, 2003
By A Customer
This review is from: The Impressionist (Mass Market Paperback)
Hari Kunzru's "The Impressionist" is one of the most promising debuts to have been published this last year and yes, the novel is excellent, though not nearly as assured or accomplished as the hype would have us believe. The premise of the novel is certainly interesting and an ideal vehicle for Kunzru to explore issues of race, culture and identity in an ironic tongue-in-cheek manner through the life of one half-caste, Pran Nath. From the moment he was conceived, Pran needed only nature's endowment, the instinct to survive. Born into a wealthy Indian family, our pampered hero finds himself unceremoniously dumped into the streets one day when his true paternity comes to light. Kidnapped by pimps, he is forced into prostitution, servicing a bent colonialist until his incredible escape into the shelter of a half-demented Scottish missionary and his native friendly wife. But that's only half the story. When fate presents the opportunity for a total makeover, the light skinned Pran seizes it, acquiring the false identity of a young Englishman and before we know it, he finds himself "back" in England living on trust money and the life of an Oxford undergraduate, chasing after an airhead. After many more twists and turns, our young protagonist lands up in Africa. As we witness Pran's multiple transformation, we come face to face with the realization that perhaps, just perhaps there's no real person underneath the skin and bone. Watching this beautiful butterfly morph into a moth and back again is like watching a snake shedding its skin, an ongoing process powered by nature and instinct. While "The Impressionist" is undoubtedly an impressive and intriguing novel, Kunzru may have overreached himself and the minisaga pays the price of being overwritten. In my opinion, the author seems to have bitten off more than he can chew. Apart from his tendency towards bombastic vocabulary and his occasionally awkward sentence construction, the novel also suffers from eclectic characterisation and a slightly unsteady tone. The madcap resolution in the forest between the Nawab's retinue and the colonialists dissolves into camp and farce, like a scene from "A Midsummers Night Dream". Major Privett-Clamp and his wife Charlie are cartoon characters to laugh at. The MacFarlanes are eccentrics, though I suspect I've met the demented missionary before in Matthew Kneale's "English Passengers". Star, the heartless bimbo and object of Pran's desire, is clearly the English cousin of Daisy Buchanan (from Scott Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby") from across the Atlantic. But most disappointing of all are the final chapters in Africa. Turgidly written, obscure and confusing, they are a terrible letdown. That said, don't let the overhype surrounding "The Impressionist" put you off. It may not be the realised masterpiece critics claim it is, but it is definitely worth your time reading it. Despite its poor ending, I enjoyed it immensely.
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24 of 28 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
The Ultimate Shapeshifter, April 1, 2002
By A Customer
The first thing anyone notices about Hari Kunzru's debut novel, "The Impressionist," is that it certainly is different. To begin with, the protagonist, Pran Nath Razdan, was conceived in a cave during the first monsoon of the year 1903, the son of an indulged Indian girl, Amrita, and a silent British forestry specialist. Although Amrita died in childbirth, a maid reveals Pran Nath's true parentage when he is but 15 years old. Consequently, he is thrown out of the luxurious home of his wealthy Kashmiri "father" and grows up alone, inventing and reinventing himself and his life as he chooses. Pran Nath had the luck, or the misfortune (it all depends on the way in which one looks at the situation), to be born with the fair skin of his English father. While this makes him an outcast in India, it does allow him to reinvent himself as a totally Caucasian man...when the occasion calls for it. Neither brown nor white, Pran Nath really can't decide what, or even who, he really is. To say that his "sense of self" is seriously underdeveloped is a serious understatement. Pran Nath will be anything to anyone and he takes pride in his ability to do so. Pran Nath, of course, comes off as a very superficial character. I don't see how we could perceive him in any other way. The man has no essence, no core, his personality, indeed, his very identity is as fluid as the water in a backyard birdbath. This is not to say that Pran Nath is cardboard cutout of a character. He's not. He's something beyond that. He's almost invisible or the ultimate shapeshifter, perhaps. Pran Nath, as a homeless teenager, spends time in a brothel (where he's known as "Rukhsana"), then finds employment in the home of the demented Nawab of Fatehpur (where he's known as "Clive"). With blackmail and cross-dressing as their focus, these sections of the book read more like a farce than anything else and are probably it's weakest links. Once Pran Nath realizes that he can make others believe he is 100% white, he escapes to Bombay, becomes the foster son of a Scottish missionary and his wife, the Macfarlanes, who christen Pran Nath, "Robert." Life with the Macfarlanes leaves something to be desired, however, and so "Robert" also spends time in the Bombay underworld as "Pretty Bobby." This section of the book is wonderful, and the Macfarlane's back story is simply superb, one of the best set pieces I've read in a long time. Had the entire book been as wonderfully good as this section, I would certainly have given it five stars rather than four. Shapeshifters aren't known for their stability and neither is Pran Nath. He is also smart enough to find passage out of India when political turmoil begins to tear the country apart at the seams. For reasons I won't reveal, Pran Nath "becomes" Jonathan Bridgeman and finds himself bound for England...Oxford, to be precise. There, he becomes, of course, no less than the hysterically funny, prototypical, ultra-conservative Englishman. And, to put it mildly...things happen. It is as "Jonathan Bridgeman" that Pran Nath meets and falls madly in love with Astarte Chapel, the lovely daughter of an Oxford professor who convinces "Jonathan" to accompany him on a trip to tribal Africa. The African chapters, like the back story of the Scottish Macfarlanes, are probably the very best in the book. It is in Africa that Pran Nath comes face to face with his destiny and it is here that this book's elaborate joke is finally revealed. This book is, of course, quite episodic, and some episodes have much more power than others. While the "Scottish" and "African" sections shine with brilliance and originality, the "Indian" and "English" ones can, at times, be a little heavy-handed. Both the book's social statement and its satire could have used a lighter touch. The characters, for the most part, are wonderful, fully fleshed-out and quite believable, except for Pran Nath, of course. And what of Pran Nath? What are we to make of him? Is he a hero or an anti-hero? I think he's both. He's an opportunist, certainly, but only because he is forced to live as one. "The Impressionist" is almost too much of a good thing and the book might suffer just a little because of that. Kunzru, after all, needs to save something special for his second book. Despite a few shortcomings and some unevenness, this is a marvelous book and a marvelously entertaining one. But, although it may sound funny and comic, it is not a lighthearted, fun read. This is heady stuff, for, at the bottom of it all, "The Impressionist" explores such "heavy" topics as what it means to be black or white or brown or red; what it means to be Indian or English or Scottish or man or woman or tribal warrior. In essence, what it means to be human.
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17 of 19 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
The Flawed Overambitious Debut of a Promising Talent, July 23, 2002
This sprawling debut novel ambitiously attempts to combine satire and farce with questions of identity, class, race, culture and heritage in the symbol-laden Dickensian story of an Anglo-Indian boy born just after the turn of the century in British India. Pran is conceived in the midst of a Biblical flood and spends the early years of his life living the spoiled luxurious life of a wealthy child. When he is cast out as a young teenager, he is forced to adapt to circumstances in order to survive- a pattern that will define his life. Throughout the book Pran has no point of view of his own, and grows up learning how to copy the speech, mannerisms, and beliefs of others. It's an interesting idea, but ultimately one that undermines the narrative, since the result is an essentially a soulless creation who has no depth. Through his semi-picaresque adventures, Pran does manage to occasionally engender some sympathy, especially when he is tricked and drugged into sexual slavery. However, Kunzru holds back a bit here, preferring to "draw the veil" over Pran's several rapes, rather than exposing the true horror of the experience, and so a distance is maintained. Pran then lands in the grasp of a self-loathing British Major with a prediction for young boys (a rather stereotyped character), who begins the process of Pran's transformation into a proper British schoolboy. Next he pops up in Bombay's red-light district of Falkland Road as an assistant to the preacher at the Independent Scottish Mission Among the Heathen. This is perhaps the strongest portion of the book, with evocative descriptions of street life and the unhappy Scottish missionary couple he lives with. As the anti-colonial movement grows more active, Pran is presented with a golden opportunity to escape to England. The last third of the book concerns Pran's adventures in England, where he is constantly on thin ice as he tries to pass as English while at Oxford. Here, the book trods rather familiar paths in its satirical savagings of the British elite and notions of class and empire. The book's density overwhelms in this section, as Kunzru crams in a subplot about Pran's Jewish roommate, anti-Semitic riots in London, and his obviously doomed romance with an English girl. The final chapters, in which he travels to Africa on an anthropological expedition and stares into the face of colonial expansion, while an appropriate ending, are far too indebted to Conrad to be considered original. Ultimately, the book rambles about fairly satisfactorily in attempting to wrestle with notions of identity. If nothing else, it sheds light on the discrimination suffered by mixed race children of the British Empire, who were often rejected by both sides. Pran's ultimate goal is to be accepted as British, but once that occurs, he's not sure what to do next, or even why he was striving for that in the first place. The problem with the book is that the reader recognizes this flaw in his quest from the beginning, and therefore the journey has to be pretty entertaining to keep one reading to the inexorable conclusion. Kunzru partially accomplishes this, often through digressions into history, science, and biographies of minor characters. These are all quite interesting in and of themselves, however the book does tend to bog down at times as a result of overwriting.
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