The Death of Vishnu is aptly named, as it follows the death and spiritual ascension of a poor man who sleeps on the landing of a Mumbai apartment house. We see the callousness of most of the other apartment dwellers, who have known and interacted with him for years, yet who basically ignore his sorry state as they indulge in petty bickering.
I enjoyed visiting the sights of Mumbai, as portrayed in the novel. However, I had problems with many elements of the story. (Admittedly, I probably don't understand enough of Indian society to fully appreciate the book, especially all of the references to Bollywood.) For instance, middle-class women become upset with Vishnu's death inconveniently interrupts their kitty party. I found this unbelievable. I also was frustrated by the lack of depth in the various married couples' relationships, and the shrewishness of the women. Couldn't we have had at least one truly loving couple, or one compassionate soul.
Overall, I found the book vaguely dissatisfying. It left me with the feeling that life is meaningless, and only illusion. When one character experiences a form of enlightenment, it didn't feel quite right; it didn't seem to have been written by a genuine believer in a spiritual search. The book was skillfully written, but failed to uplift me as a (Western) reader.
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