The best books of 2014
The year in books started off with a controversy, with Penguin India publishers capitulating to Dinanath Batra and his Shiksha Bachao Andolan. Everyone in the book world was compelled to take positions; authors one side and publishers on the other. Writer Omair Ahmad, on principle, broke from Penguin over the issue only to find his other publisher, Aleph, in a similar quandary.
The story played out in many different ways, an attack on the freedom of expression claimed some while others countered with the assertion that it was never a “ban” but a voluntary withdrawal by the publisher. When the dust settled on the matter, what transpired—and this was something I picked up during my meeting with Batra — was that the aim was never a "book ban" but the discrediting of an academic, with the roots of the conflict firmly planted in the US.
So can we assume that books are safe in India? Batra decided not to pursue Aleph over Wendy Doniger’s book On Hinduism. However, even at the time that the book was withdrawn by Penguin, he was aware that it was available in e-book format and this was, in many ways, symbolic. This particular conflict was academic and not about freedom of expression. But some lessons were learnt.
Javier Moro’s Red Sari, a dramatised biography on the life of Sonia Gandhi, was translated into English and released as an e-book without much furore.
The books that really took off this election year were the political ones. The country and its reading public were consumed by political biographies (by Sankarshan Thakur on Nitish Kumar) autobiographies (by Natwar Singh), memoirs (by Sanjaya Baru) and insights into the general elections (by Rajdeep Sardesai). These were the big books of the year.
In these attention-deficit times, a "big" book isn’t necessarily one that sells or is lauded by a tight-knit circle of literary aesthetes. Those times have given way to a more cacophonous discourse, which is marching away from contemplation. A book, must make seamless transitions into other formats and discourses in order to be considered relevant — a commonality that the aforementioned books shared. Each had social media abuzz and political reactions pouring in, they made it to the bestseller lists and general debates focused on them.
So much was the talk surrounding them that the usually reticent Congress president Sonia Gandhi, rumoured to be an avid reader, declared she would write her own book. With the Congress on the outs, this is as good a time as there ever was, and many books supposed to be “revelatory” in their tenor are already in the works. A change in regime is usually good news for book publishers, with the affronted dropping their fronts.
But while some of these books may have been seeking “poetic justice”, what has also been heartening is that publishers’ "poetry lists" have bloomed. Collections by Arundhathi Subramaniam, Keki Daruwalla, Sridala Swami and Joy Goswami (translated by Sampurna Chattarji) have been well received — an encouraging sign for poetry lovers who complain that not enough of it is published.
The majestic read of the year for me in fiction was The Sun That Rose From The Earth by Shamsur Rahman Faruqi. Beautifully produced by Penguin Books, this sprawling narrative from the 19th century was an immersive experience with poets and poetry being central to its narrative, transporting one back in time. But a quick round robin with readers and publishers suggests that this year has been a modest one for fiction.
The Man Booker Prize threw up a more varied list with Americans for the first time in the prize’s history being eligible. My favourite from the shortlist, We Are All Completely Besides Ourselves by American author Karen Joy Fowler, that explores the interplay between being “human” and not, didn’t make it. But I hope to have better luck with my Oscar picks.
Yet again, this was a year of literary festivals. I was invited to a few, made it to one that was a Hindi fest — and had an entirely different experience. There were no boozy evening soirees at this one. There, men and women were informally sequestered with the former doing the drinking in their hotel rooms. But an increase in the number of lit fests hasn’t led to greater audience participation. As one exhausted publisher told me, “There are usually more people on the panel than in the audience”. But lit fests are going to continue. Raipur debuted with its own and my inbox already has invites for a few next year; leading travel-friendly me to the happy, if somewhat guilty, conclusion that one doesn’t have to have been recently published to be invited. If you don’t believe me, look at the fest line ups.
Fiction Picks
Fairy Tales At Fifty, by Upamanyu Chatterjee
Isn’t it wonderful when one of your favourite writers is back? Literary comebacks are different from cinematic ones: for one, writer’s don’t ever go away, they keep writing, but sometimes hit their métier again only at the right age. This story of twins separated at birth is violent, savage and dripping in trademark irony and cynicism about the world and our place in it . It is one of Chatterjee’s best and hailed by many as the novel of the year.
Gypsy Goddess, by Meena Kandasamy
If non-fiction dominated this year, then the fiery Kandasamy’s masterful telling of non-fiction via fiction couldn’t have had a timelier debut. A well known poet, Kandasamy’s novel has a lyrical quality that makes one wish that more poets told stories. Gypsy Goddess is based on a massacre that took place in the village of Kilvenmani on Christmas in 1968. The book comes with a passionate use of language that distinguishes Kandasamy’s writing and makes her one of the most interesting writers today.
Non-Fiction Picks
And Then One Day, by Naseeruddin Shah
The actor’s actor. This autobiography by critically acclaimed Bollywood actor Naseeruddin Shah is charmingly rude, sort of like a conversation one would have with a man short on patience but with a lot to do and reveal. There is no "method" to the writing. It is spontaneous, honest and revelatory. Shah is a writer — it’s visible in his writing. In the tradition of all great actors, Shah’s book is just about being "himself" and no reader of this book will complain.
The Accidental Prime Minister, by Sanjaya Baru
Never before have politicians taken so much interest in the publishing business than with this book. Every aspect was up for discussion — from the timing to the royalty that the author would earn from its release and the ensuing controversy. Baru rode the wave like a pro, handling television and print interviews, sticking to his version and rolling with the punches. The book is delivered with surgical focus, very little is left out, even if proximity to the “dramatis personae” and the action is as some critics suggest “exaggerated”. If former prime minister Manmohan Singh hoped history would be kinder to him, this book is a good start.
The Thinking Person’s Guide To Writing In The 21st Century, by Steven Pinker
If you are from the tribe that believes most style guides are "dated", Steven Pinker’s book is a friendly addition to your collection — a book you can "hang out" with. Pinker, a linguist and psychologist as well as a Harvard professor, manages to successfully elude the pedantic and authoritative voice that readers of the book might presume is central to the delivery of its subject matter. His is an easy-going voice, laced with humour and artful nudging. He’s also a liberal when it came to some of the more staid “rules” of writing.
2014: The Election That Changed India, by Rajdeep Sardesai
This book debuted with almost Harry Potter-esque panache, with Twitter abuzz and baiters furiously discussing the book and inadvertently contributing to the buzz. The book in itself is non-controversial in most parts and is a straightforward, anecdotal account of the General Elections told in the style that has made Sardesai one of our more well known newsmen. The book’s strength is in its lack of pretension that makes it read like a long conversation, with self-deprecating Sardesai providing not too much "analysis" but enough observation.