Chilli Chicks and Heart Attacks by Sanjaya Senanayake

Its Book Fair time again and off I went trotting to the BMICH the first day. Man, was it crowded? More people there for the scene than the books me thinks, but no matter I knew what I was there for. I headed to my favourite once a Book Fair year stop - the PH book stall and picked up my loot. So know that the next few reviews are going to be my haul.

This book is fairly new - last year I believe and to be honest, the cover caught my eye (Yes, yes, I am shallow and judge all books by their covers). I was a bit thrown at the beginning and didn't know who the author was until I started reading the book. But my aunt (yes we have an incestuous reading relationship) who I gave the book to, bless her soul, was confused and kept thinking that Sanjaya Senanayake was the grandson of Dr Manjula Mendis and that the story was all true. She is still reading the book and I have to assure her from time to time the story is all lies :)

Well this book is a riot and a hoot. I haven't read much humourous stuff written by Sri Lankans and while I loved Colpetty People which was hilarious then Ashok Ferrey degenerated into mocking rather than funny. I think with the war and all, we were wallowing in depth and conflict and sorrow and all that downer stuff. So perhaps its just good timing that this book which is totally irreverent, funny, sexy, (well there is a lot of sex) and plain ol fun reading came out when it did. This book will not win any prizes, it is just too flippant and unserious for that, but is definitely worth a read.

So now let me stop waffling and get on with the book. Dr Manjula Mendis has just graduated as a doctor and begins his internship at the prestigious St Ivanhoe Hospital in Australia? Not sure about the country but it is Oz or the US. Anyway, his very traditional and Sri Lankan parents want him to settle down and find a good Sri Lankan girl and so after boasting about their son, they spend the rest of their time looking for the perfect match. Dr Mendis has a foul mouthed sister who makes appearences throughout the book to either complicate his life or to inject some xxx rated words into the text. She is funny but perhaps the most unreal character for me. His colleagues are all wierd in some way or the other with even wierder names (that too was not a favourite for me). Then you have the film star Salma Cruz(Hayek and Penelope combo?) who lives in his imagination spicing up his sex life and his dreams.

The book is full of interesting medical titbits that always border on the insanely wierd, there is adventure, spice, mystery, competition, and at last happiness. It is after I finished the book that some of the names began to make sense to me! Perhaps you will get it faster. I'll let you read it and find out what I mean. Anyway, it's nice to see Sri Lankan writers getting into humour, a much needed category and it is a fabulous holiday read.

Metta by Sunethra Rajakarunanayake

If all of you thought I had upped and gone, 'tis not so! I took a long break from reading books by Sri Lankan authors, so thank you for all the messages and inquires, and yep, I am still here.

A few days ago, my trusty aunt thrust this book into my hands and as I am always curious about what's happening in the Sinhala literature scene, grabbed it and read it.

What a book! I had not heard of Sunethra Rajakarunanayake (quite a mouthful, that last name) but when I googled her she seems to have published many books and won quite a few awards. The story is set in modern times - unlike English writing by Sri Lankans, the vernacular novels have moved far from the waluwa, oppressed labourers and exploitative landlords. A young woman Varnasi, an enigmatic man called Sasha, a mother and grandmother are the main characters. Sasha who once courted the mother is now with the daughter. Hmmm quite a love triangle there isnt it? I cant think of a single Sri Lankan novel in English that dares to deal with this kind of scenario. The daughter Varnasi, ignorant of her mother and Sasha's relationship refuses to listen to her mother's advice to stay away from Sasha. Sunethra R does not shy away from controversial and contemporary issues. Illicit pregnancy, female headed households, working mothers, and a country in conflict are themes that run through the novel.

If there is a criticism against the novel is that the portrayal of men is totally inadequate. Sasha seems to be the only man portrayed wholly and yet his portrayal is of a completely flawed man. The novel starts off well with Sasha's point of view but then he is reduced to a caricature only to be revealed to us through Varnasi and her mother. We never hear Sasha's point of view again and that is a pity. Also it could have done with a whole load of editing. The novel was unnecessarily too long and dragged on, weighting it down. The mother and daugter had similar voices and you could almost think it was the Author's views that were coming through both. While they were interesting and compelling characters it might have been nice to have diverse views especially when it came to expounding Buddhist philosophy. The book felt slightly preachy on a Buddhistic note. I had to do a double take when Varnasi talks about loving Sasha like a child instead of a lover and thought it was a bit sick! But then again maybe that is the ultimate love. And perhaps the author was juxtaposing carnal love with selfless love. All in all the book was a good read and I liked it.

But ... If I have a reservation at all about this book it is for the translation.

Many of the books that I read are translations and I never for a moment think that I am reading a translation. Isabel Allende, Umberto Eco, Marquez, Parmuk, Peter Hoeg and the list goes on and on. In those books the story flows, the English is natural and there is no theses at the beginning and end of the book. Sadly, Metta struggles only because of the translation, it is a testament to Sunethra R's story that you plow through the book regardless of the clumsy and heavy translation. It might be worthwhile for future translators to study how other authors like those mentioned above, all the Russian authors, even Coelho are translated without the reader being aware even once it was written in a language other than English.

It is my personal opinion that we have a long way to go in good translation but don't let it deter you from reading this book.

Froteztology by Marlon Ariyasinghe

Here is someone who thinks he is the 'bad boy' of poetry. From the title, from the third page onwards where Marlon says:

Write you bastards

Write till your ink runs dry

Write till 'they' lock you up

Write till your fingers are severed

When your ink runs dry,

Write with blood

you know you are going to be reading some powerful stuff. Or rather you hope that you would be. But then you turn the page and find the introduction written by Vihanga (whose books I have reviewed previously) who is all praise for Marlon, then goes on to describe his poetry as those with 'appreciable venom' and of course I am suspicious. What am I going to find beyond - poems with a huge chip on their shoulder or a true poetical commentary on the times of our day.

What you get is a mix. Some excellent poems like: I is wanting to Frotezt and I'm a Racist among others and some not so good poems like: Colombota kiri apita thaamath kekiri, where he just takes my poet goddess Vivimarie down. Surely you didnt think you could say things against Vivimarie and hope you get away with it in this blog!

But seriously, Marlon has oodles of talent but you will only find it after he has chipped away at the big block on his shoulder. Now this is what I can summarise from the poems, not having seeing the dude, or know anything else about him - Here is a guy who is angry with the world. He is angry that others can speak English better than he can, that they are more in the limelight than he is, that they are more successful than he is, that he epitomises village which is good and his enemy is the city, that he can't pronounce f and others can, that kekiri is just not as good as kiri, that if you are not in his circle of friends you are no good. That he thinks the universities (which one though - Colombo or Peradeniya, I suspect Pera coz of the Vihanga association) are the pits (Deconstructing post-structuralist farts/In our very own faculty of arts). And finally to top the whole thing, he came from Australia! Refer back cover. No shit! I is conpused! So is he the real thing or aint he?

Ok Marlon has all these grouses but what dude is he doing about it hiding it in a book? I think Marlon's poetry is most effective performed rather than read, perhaps that right dose of venom doesn't quite come out through the pages unless it is spouted at these literary gatherings. And to make it worse the bad boy merely comes out as complaining. But the overall verdict is here is a poet to watch, buy the book, as usual Sri Serendipity does nice graphics. No candy floss here, instead it is hard candy, but candy all the same, I say. Make your own mind up and as usual, since this is a buddy of Vihanga, I bet I will get slammed for this review. Bring it on boys :)

Learning to Fly by Shehani Gomes

Some people think I am wierd, for example I will never not buy a book because someone else didn't like it. I have to read it for myself. My friend told me that her mother had bought this book and not liked it but that she had. Previously a reader had left a comment that they loathed this author. So when I saw this on sale at the book fair, I had to buy it, I wanted to see what the fuss was all about. (I told you I bought a lot of loot at the book fair). The cover is just gorgeous and straightaway I knew that it was a sad story. You can kinda tell with the lonely table, the rainy day, the grey sea. And yes I was right, it is a sad story but told in such a way that it doesnt force itself down your throat in a sad way, but just says it the way it is.

Shehani Gomes writes for young people. And actually if I think about it, there are hardly any books that cater to the late teens early twenties crowd. The warped love story actually reminded me of a stupid obsession I had when I was fifteen with a guy who didn't even know I existed. Sigh! But luckily I came to my senses and realised that he wasn't worth it. Anyway back to Learning to Fly. The story can get kind of complicated. You have Kala, she has a best friend Sumi who dies in a car accident. Kala never really gets over Sumi's death and throughout the book you have her remembering incidents of both of them together. Kala has a blind sister and two working parents. The blind sister falls in love with the flute teacher who while he does have feelings for her marries another girl chosen for him by his parents. After all who wants a blind girl for a daughter in law, however pretty she may be? Then you have Dylan. Oh my lord! Dylan is a complicated bag of goods. He lost his father when he was young, his mother married again and there are traces of the wicked step father routine here. Dylan fantasises about building a tree house with his real dad. Dylan and Kala love each other but pretend that they are friends. Kala finishes school, grows up, gets a job, has an affair with her boss, is sacked, attempts suicide, mother dies, she recovers, meets someone else, marries him and has a baby. Dylan while interested in Kala, has an affair with Nadia who is another bag of complications (alcoholic, rich, indifferent parents, commits suicide). If I put you off the book with all that , I am sorry, because it is really a fabulous book. Shehani Gomes writes about serious things in a very unserious way that totally would appeal to the younger generation. I mean isn't this what we have all gone through - sometimes thinking life isnt worth living, doing anything to get your parents attention, having money (Ok not all of us have it but still) and your life still feeling empty. But I can also totally understand older people just not getting it. This book is too wierd for them, give them a soppy village love story any day and that they will lap up, but a book with real stories and real situations - Nah! that is just too real for them I suppose. Anyway, I loved the book, its definitely a keeper not to be given away to anyone. I will admit sometimes it a bit confusing and you go - what the heck just happened there - but give it a chance, and let me know if you liked it as much as I did. Judging from previous comments and reactions I have had with others, I am expecting the comments to just fly in.

Mythil's Secret by Prashani Rambukwella

When I was young I read the usual things starting with Enid Blyton, then Harry Potter, Lemony Snicket etc etc. Basically I didnt read any Sri Lankan authors as a child. Heck! I didn't even read Indian authors. So when I picked up Mythil's Secret at the book fair for my neice, I intended to do a quick read and then give it to her, and guess what? I am getting another one for her, this one is mine. OK, so I loved the book and yes its a children's book but it is intelligent, it respects the child and therefore it is a cute read for adults as well. Mythil's Secret is about yakas and a little boy who realises he has the gift of seeing them. Prashani Rambukwella didn't write a sweet idyllic all is well with the world story for children, what she did was to create a world that balances real life (fighting parents and worries about money) with the fantasy world of the yakas. OK, so there are good yakas and bad yakas, there are strong yakas and weak yakas, there is a bahirawaya who is cool to die! There are yakas who impersonate humans and then there is Mythil. The unlikely hero, who is an only child who worries obsessively about his parents fighting and is aware of their money problems. Such a welcome relief from the spoilt brats you generally see around (take a look at my neice's classmates!) One holiday when Mythil is dumped at his Aachie's who lives in a village near a little forest, he realises that he can see into another world. Thus begins the adventure. Soon Mythil is seeing everyone as a yaka. The beauty of this story, though perhaps its only adults who may realise it, is that it could be that Mythil because of his family problems is retreating into a fantasy world. Even his parents think so and thus enters a child psychologist to counsel Mythil. But Mythil is suspicious of her, she could be a yaka, her friends could be yakas, who can he trust. The nice thing about this book is that it is a book that any child can relate to. Ok, so I am not the horrible aunt you think I am, I did give my neice her book and asked her what she thought. Her verbal skills are not that advanced as her aunt's obviously because she said it was "Cool!" For me 'cool' is good. It means that she didnt wrinkle her nose and go: "What a lame book, how goday." Then she tells me that some of her other friends from other schools (not her posh school mind you) are doing Mythil's secret as a school text. Hurrah! If only we had such interesting school texts I might have paid attention. Right now, I cannot remember a single school text that I did. Just goes to show. Anyway, Mythil's Secret in my books is a winner - and of course how could I forget, it did win the Gratiaen early this year. So even other people thought so.

Arathi by Nihal de Silva

Nihal de Silva writes his best book and then dies before finishing it. Readers will know that I am not a Nihal de Silva fan. I couldn't understand for the life of me why people were raving about The Road from Elephant Pass ( for me it was a romantic drivel that was too politically correct, completely unrealistic, badly written and an excuse for a little ornithological walk in the park). Ginirella while having a good premise was so badly written that I couldn't finish it. And then comes Arathi. What a book! The narrative shifts between the reality of a young hip advertising executive who purchases a used computer and discovers secret files within files. He manages to crack the code and read the content of the files. The book is presented with alternating chapters of the present and the past (which reveal the diary of a man involved in the gun running trade). They come to a head when the LTTE and crooked officers in the armed forces are both on the hunt for the computer, some stolen money stashed away, a young girl (Arathi) who may hold the key, and the young executive who finds himself in a situation way over his head. All the ingredients for a stunning thriller.

The prose is brutal - terse, tense, holding back no punches, Nihal has successfully infiltrated the mind of a young man who enters an unfamiliar world. Reading it in one go, from start to finish over a weekend the futileness of his death is rammed home continuously. You cannot escape it. Having appeared to have done his homework Nihal recreates a very realistic scenario set during the CFA. With not one reference to wild life he takes us on a fast paced urban journey of the hunter and the hunted. If there were any slip-ups it was that he used the outdated name for Dharmapala Mawatha (I had to ask someone where this Turret Road was?) which was the only indication to me (if I was not aware of his background) that he was someone of an older generation. His hero also used the term 'darling' a bit too liberally with almost everyone. Glossing over the actual part where hero and heroine fall in love (it seems to happen almost instantaneously and without choice) he does a fairly realistic portrayal of a young man in love. The darn book finishes at a crucial point. Vijitha Yapa has issued a challenge for someone to finish the story but to my mind I just cannot think of how it could possibly end. Possibly the only person who could do it would be David Blacker (author of A Cause Untrue). I do hope he takes up the challenge. As you know I am a sucker for covers and this one just does not do the book justice. It is washed out and boring. The way the book is designed is also confusing as there are hardly any breaks to indicate time jumps and situation changes. But those lapses are forgiven because the story line is so good. It was tiresome to give bad book reviews one after the other, so I am so glad that this Book fair purchase was utterly and totally worth it!

Unplugged Quarter by Vihanga Perera

Oh it is the beginning of the Book Fair and I have already got away with stacks and stacks of books. I will certainly go back again middle of the week to stock up even more. This year it was kind of messy with stalls not in their usual places and me getting annoyed with having to deal with the rain and the mud and the crowds who seem to come for other reasons other than books. The long walk from the parking lot was enough to deter even the most die hard book lover but it is an event that I just do not miss. Call me a total boring bookworm but I honestly get goose bumps from being in a place that has all these books. Book fair - Rock on!

In one of the comments to a previous blog entry (The Prince), someone recommended Vihanga Perera's Unplugged Quarter. As I had reviewed a previous book of his ( Stable Horses, in May 2009) I thought it might be interesting to review his newest book. In a previous review I read of this book by someone whose name I cannot quite remember (a foreign girl I think) the reviewer compared Vihanga Perera to Aristophanes. Yep, she did! And I was quite surprised. Aristophanes after all is a very big deal. After reading this book, I think she got it wrong. Vihanga is no Aristophanes, instead he is closer perhaps to James Joyce in his word play and combinations.

Unplugged Quarter is certainly a more mature book than Stable Horses. If I remember right, I just didn't like Stable Horses. This book is different. There is a story line of some sort. The writing except for some instances is mostly smooth. It stays amusing.

Very quickly, the story concerns the Head of the Department (written throughout the book like that which after being funny became annoying) Vahanya Bertolt (!!!! her parents must have hated her) referred to as Bertolt Breast by the uni students and her live in uncle Bheem. They both live in a collapsing house. It would not be a Vihanga Perera book if there was no reference to the university system and university students. So they duly appear. Peradeniya university and English Honours students: Sri, Manishka, Poornaka, Nipunika, Kesha Godapola and a student constantly referred to as Sucked Cock - Nishadi Denagama; then there is a failed guitarist Nayana who is related to the Head of the Department and who is in hiding from some sordid escapade with a young girl in Negombo. I believe those are the main characters. A series of sub characters enter and exit throughout the book. There is a chapter entitled Aeschylus or Euripides where two university professors go head to head in a poetic encounter. Does this actually happen in the University of Peradeniya? If it does kudos to them, because it told me of the existence of a vibrant artistic culture that I did not know existed. Perhaps the English lit graduates of our university system have quite a different experience from those in other departments.Earlier in the book there is a discussion of Nihal de Silva's The Road from Elephant Pass by the students. I for one will agree with them in their interpretation. I seem to be the exception to the rule and really didn't like the way the book was written and couldn't believe that people fell hook line and sinker for the pc drivel! But that is another review.

Anyway back to the book - I actually didn't have a big problem with this book. True the writing is uneven. True, Vihanga Perera has flashes of brilliance, and wittiness and true talent but it peters out all too fast. There are nice references to ideas, music, situations and wicked and sarcastic asides. Vihanga's strength is that he conveys student life so accurately. Unlike Chucking the Dragon, the very names, the very language, the very attitude smack of authenticity and doesn't seem to be written just for the sake of a good read. Don't get me wrong, I loved the Dragon, but it didn't feel quite authentic.

All this leads me to believe that eventually Vihanga Perera will produce the great Sri Lankan novel - well I certainly won't be surprised if he does so, but does he have to inflict his journey towards it on us. I have decided that I must be a masochist as I keep on reading his work. Therefore, perhaps it would be wise for me not to review Vihanga Perera's future work until I read the great Sri Lankan novel that he shows promise of writing.