16 June, 2021

Up The Ulna

Easily mistaken for the juvenile effusion of a distinctly un-precocious schoolchild.

Up The Ulna
outlookindia.com
-0001-11-30T00:00:00+05:53

When is a book not a book? When it is earnest, well-intentioned, breathless, clueless, and practically, endless.

Intrepid readers who plan to navigate Sarita Mandanna’s Tiger Hills and schuss its morass of cliche all the way to page 464 deserve to know it is a book written by an adult, published by adults, ostensibly for adults. An indispensible health warning, for it is easily mistaken for the juvenile effusion of a distinctly un-precocious schoolchild. Also, the reader who invests Rs 500 in a hardcover does so in the belief it is literary fiction, a faith hard won despite innumerable betrayals, and one we like to keep. No more. While back shelves in bookstores spill over with paperbacks witty, original, adventurous yet unseen and unread, how does something as clumsy as this deserve deathless bookbindery?

This is a cradle to—well, almost—grave story set in lush Coorg. I use that adjective advisedly, for the prose latches on desperately to tourist idiom. Mist hangs, banks roll, water ripples, and the...

In this article:

More from Kalpish Ratna


Latest Magazine

June 21, 2021
content

other articles from the issue

articles from the previous issue

Other magazine section