The Cellist of Sarajevo

The Cellist of Sarajevo by Steven Galloway is a gorgeous find. Its one of those books that I saw on shelves of all the major bookstores about a year ago but filed away in the recesses of my mind under: Some other time when the furore has died down. I can’t say whether it’s the process of patient waiting till I am not surrounded by the buzz of a title before I read it, not unlike the way I waited for two years to finally see Evita and loved it. Or whether it’s the quality of the writing – but I loved this book. The structure, the topic, the plot details and the characterization were all unique learning points for me. To be told the story of a city at war with itself from four points of view that were well developed and empathetic was something lovely to behold. The language was simple but the evocative emotions and pictures painted by Galloway were what drew me in. Five stars in my book!

Tokyo Cancelled

Tokyo Cancelled by Rana Dasgupta weaves modern fairy-tales that are probably more like the Grimm Brothers original stories than the latter versions that have made their way down through history. Dasgupta’s book of short stories is particularly interesting for a study in frame narratives that hang the stories together. The stories speak for themselves and outweigh the frame narrative – its just there to assist in giving the reader a better eye view. The stories themselves are wonderful little feats of imagination strung together in successful narrative. The Memory editor is a particular favourite of mine with a young boy who is hired to streamline a memory database and erase huge parts of people’s memories before selling them pre-packaged products of their memories, but only the ones they can stand, that make them happy, until his own memories are in a similar state of crisis. The map-maker of Frankfurt takes on a surreal twist that enters the realms of the macabre. The rest you’ll have to read for yourself but the tones of the Emperor’s new clother, Rapunzel, Sleeping Beauty, Seven Dwarves and Jack and the Beanstalk are all there in broad daylight for your to see. What Dasgupta weaves them into however, is something else.