Status
Call number
Publication
DDC/MDS
823.92 |
Description
Like Vikram Seth's A SUITABLE BOY, THE HOUSE OF BLUE MANGOES tells many stories in one, each slipping effortlessly into the other and ultimately entwined. Three generations of an ancient family come and go in Chevathar, the village by the sea. First there is Solomon, the patriarch, manoevuring to keep the peace as caste struggles begin to encroach on the village. Then there is the story of Solomon's sons, their fortunes rising and falling as India begins its struggle for independence. Finally, there is the story of Solomon's grandson, perhaps the last of the line, making his own stand for independence. A host of characters enliven these pages - from Father Ashcroft, the English priest washed up in a forgotten corner of the empire, to Mrs Wilkins the planter's wife who clings to the old ascendancy, to Joshua, the prodigal son who leads the battle on the beach, to Daniel and Aaron, brothers at war, and to Helen, an Anglo-Indian beauty who brings about the final disintegration of the family. This is a glorious, generous, and exhilarating read.… (more)
User reviews
The story itself is good, not great. As other reviewers have noted, the first section of the book about the first generation was by far the best told portion of the story. However, unlike some other reviewers, I did enjoy reading about the second and third generation of the Dorai family as Dravidar moves from village caste violence to "International caste violence" under the guise of Nationalism and WWII.
For the most part, Dravidar does a good job of developing the characters. The only flaw is his lack of fully explaining the decisions of the third-generation, Kannan. I often felt that his decisions were predictable and cliche, and Dravidar never fully explained how all of his decisions fit within the character mold Dravidar had developed for Kannan. His supposed "stubborn Dorai character" sometimes leads him to being fiercely loyal, and at other times led him to completely give up on certain relationships, but you never understood how that stubborness fully informed that decision.
Further, Dravidar could have made the book a bit more compelling by describing more of the changes to the South India region from the 1880s to 1946 (when the novel ends). To the reader, it almost seems as all customs and traditions remained completely static in village communities, which is certainly not accurate. Some of the characters could have fit within any generation of the story, which made it sometimes hard to believe that the novel was progressing through time. If there were no mentions of nationalism or WWII, the reader might completely forget that the story encompasses nearly a century.
In the end I thoroughly enjoyed this novel and recommend it.