Here's what I wrote in 2008 about this read: This was a great Indian novel! Parallels an Indian classic (The Mahabharata , an ancient Hindu epic), satirically telling the history of Ghandi and his impact on the British occupation of India. Long but fulfilling; re-read some day!" ( )

I wish I were Indian so I could understand the sources in history from which this book was taken. It helps to look it up in Wikipedia. However, it is a very funny, enjoyable read that at the same time is instructive to people like me who find Indian culture and literature fascinating. ( )

This satirical history of pre and post independence India, narrated with characters and events of the ageless epic, Mahabharata, is a great attempt by Shashi Tharoor. The writing, both the prose and the verse, is so fluid the pages turn quite fast. Barring certain parallels that feel forced, and some tedious philosophical discourse, this book is an enjoyable read, especially for those who have read their Mahabharata and know the modern political history of India. ( )

Part two of my recently read trilogy of alt-mythologies is Shashi Tharoor's The Great Indian Novel. This is actually something of a mashup, the characters and happenings of the Sanskrit epic The Mahabharata neatly meshed with Indian politics leading up to independence and onwards to the 1970s.

The story is told as if narrated by one of the central-but-never-too-involved characters late in his life to a gruff younger man. This conceit works in the novel's favour, as the narrator is happy to digress, apologise, digress again, and then, when the story's perspective seems to lift to an omniscient third person view beyond any mortal sights, he'll respond to his typist's incredulous eyebrows with a pithy explanation of how he knows what he's narrating.

The Mahabharata was written around two thousand years ago, and the story it tells probably pre-dates that by another millennium. So it's not surprising that the characters and occurrences in the poem don't match up perfectly with the key figures and goings-on of twentieth century Indian politics. And yet, fittingly given the book's cyclic themes, these temporally disparate stories do match up just enough that a skilled weaver of tales could create something magnificent from their blend. And Shashi Tharoor has some mad weaving skills.

There's a catch, of course. Isn't there always when you're faced with a brilliant story, brilliantly told? I know just enough about Indian politics around the independence-era to avoid looking like a dolt when talking to my Indian friends, but I'd never even heard of The Mahabharata until I picked up this novel. The story itself is probably worth reading without knowing any of these things. But I found it ever more fascinating, and was better able to appreciate Shashi Tharoor's accomplishment, when I badgered my Indian chums (and Wikipedia) for the details of The Mahabharata and the intricacies of the Indian independence movement. If you know the poem, the history, and the country, then read this book. If you don't then kidnap an Indian who knows all these things, and then read this book. ( )

Part two of my recently read trilogy of alt-mythologies is Shashi Tharoor's The Great Indian Novel. This is actually something of a mashup, the characters and happenings of the Sanskrit epic The Mahabharata neatly meshed with Indian politics leading up to independence and onwards to the 1970s.

The story is told as if narrated by one of the central-but-never-too-involved characters late in his life to a gruff younger man. This conceit works in the novel's favour, as the narrator is happy to digress, apologise, digress again, and then, when the story's perspective seems to lift to an omniscient third person view beyond any mortal sights, he'll respond to his typist's incredulous eyebrows with a pithy explanation of how he knows what he's narrating.

The Mahabharata was written around two thousand years ago, and the story it tells probably pre-dates that by another millennium. So it's not surprising that the characters and occurrences in the poem don't match up perfectly with the key figures and goings-on of twentieth century Indian politics. And yet, fittingly given the book's cyclic themes, these temporally disparate stories do match up just enough that a skilled weaver of tales could create something magnificent from their blend. And Shashi Tharoor has some mad weaving skills.

There's a catch, of course. Isn't there always when you're faced with a brilliant story, brilliantly told? I know just enough about Indian politics around the independence-era to avoid looking like a dolt when talking to my Indian friends, but I'd never even heard of The Mahabharata until I picked up this novel. The story itself is probably worth reading without knowing any of these things. But I found it ever more fascinating, and was better able to appreciate Shashi Tharoor's accomplishment, when I badgered my Indian chums (and Wikipedia) for the details of The Mahabharata and the intricacies of the Indian independence movement. If you know the poem, the history, and the country, then read this book. If you don't then kidnap an Indian who knows all these things, and then read this book. ( )