In two words, Not bad.
Paul Theroux’s latest novel, is actually a compilation of three novellas- each, a story at the Indo-american interface set in contemporary times. The first is rather a weak story of an American couple holidaying in an Indian spa; the second , perhaps the most intense of the three is a story of an American businessman forced to visit India because of his work and the last is about a young American backpacker. Interestingly, all the characters come to India with their own ideas, but find themselves drifting into first, and later, sucked by something inexplicable that would change them and their idea of India forever. The common pivotal motif in all the stories is sex, which takes different forms in different stories: an one-off, an affair/arrangement, a rape.
In themselves, the stories are unremarkable but Paul must be credited for his efforts to break the stereotype of the Western impression of India; thankfully he doesnt hover around identity, diaspora, generation gap, new-found feminism, secularism etc which could be safely trusted(to be overdone) with the Indian writers. The stories, though built in rich and easily flowing prose lack a definitive identity, a not so surprising relevation when one looks too long at India. Perhaps, that is the reason why the book carries three novellas instead of a single novel.
