To this, add Chopra’s humor, his brilliant medical dialogue, and the power and richness of Raj’s battle against materialist...
Love as the basic fabric of human life offers mind-body healer Chopra a more focused story this time around than he found for his debut fiction, The Return of Merlin (1995), a tale about the magical effects of Arthurian archetypes on today’s England.
Soulmate lopes along for 60 pages before hitting its stride. Born in India, Raj Rabban, 25, works in Manhattan as a psychiatric intern. He’s engaged to Maya, a hands-on college counselor/caseworker, but falls for sibylline Molly Mahoney, a brilliant if minor Broadway actress who speaks in enigmas and tries to draw Raj into his inner being. He still loves Maya but acts like a bastard, pursuing Molly, who can’t speak the word love. Maya has a grip on this world, even as Raj lusts to rise above the pack at his hospital, hoping to be given a permanent residency, while Molly offers insight into truths beyond the material world. The story lifts off when Raj faces the mentally ill on his ward and requires himself to enter the patients’ disoriented minds. Chopra mauls modern psychiatry, its patients treated almost universally by drugs and electroshock. Raj’s boss tells him: “Reality is an elephant that we can’t move. None of us . . . . It just stands there; it is what it is.” But when Molly dies and returns as his soulmate, Raj begins to learn the power of love in healing the crazy. While Raj at first can see only symptoms, Molly in the beyond has a wider view of the sick and feeds Raj ways to reach in, dissolve fears, and draw patients back into the reality they distrust so violently. In a showdown with his boss, Raj says, “To me, you’ve been saying that loving these people is feeble and pointless. Insanity is too powerful and reality doesn’t give a shit.”
To this, add Chopra’s humor, his brilliant medical dialogue, and the power and richness of Raj’s battle against materialist psychiatry. A contender.Pub Date: Oct. 1, 2001
ISBN: 0-399-14798-5
Page Count: 320
Publisher: Putnam
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 15, 2001
A modern day fable, with modern implications in a deceiving simplicity, by the author of Dickens. Dali and Others (Reynal & Hitchcock, p. 138), whose critical brilliance is well adapted to this type of satire. This tells of the revolt on a farm, against humans, when the pigs take over the intellectual superiority, training the horses, cows, sheep, etc., into acknowledging their greatness. The first hints come with the reading out of a pig who instigated the building of a windmill, so that the electric power would be theirs, the idea taken over by Napoleon who becomes topman with no maybes about it. Napoleon trains the young puppies to be his guards, dickers with humans, gradually instigates a reign of terror, and breaks the final commandment against any animal walking on two legs. The old faithful followers find themselves no better off for food and work than they were when man ruled them, learn their final disgrace when they see Napoleon and Squealer carousing with their enemies... A basic statement of the evils of dictatorship in that it not only corrupts the leaders, but deadens the intelligence and awareness of those led so that tyranny is inevitable. Mr. Orwell's animals exist in their own right, with a narrative as individual as it is apt in political parody.
Pub Date: Aug. 26, 1946
ISBN: 0452277507
Page Count: 114
Publisher: Harcourt, Brace
Review Posted Online: Nov. 2, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 1, 1946
The Brat Pack meets The Bacchae in this precious, way-too-long, and utterly unsuspenseful town-and-gown murder tale. A bunch of ever-so-mandarin college kids in a small Vermont school are the eager epigones of an aloof classics professor, and in their exclusivity and snobbishness and eagerness to please their teacher, they are moved to try to enact Dionysian frenzies in the woods. During the only one that actually comes off, a local farmer happens upon them—and they kill him. But the death isn't ruled a murder—and might never have been if one of the gang—a cadging sybarite named Bunny Corcoran—hadn't shown signs of cracking under the secret's weight. And so he too is dispatched. The narrator, a blank-slate Californian named Richard Pepen chronicles the coverup. But if you're thinking remorse-drama, conscience masque, or even semi-trashy who'll-break-first? page-turner, forget it: This is a straight gee-whiz, first-to-have-ever-noticed college novel—"Hampden College, as a body, was always strangely prone to hysteria. Whether from isolation, malice, or simple boredom, people there were far more credulous and excitable than educated people are generally thought to be, and this hermetic, overheated atmosphere made it a thriving black petri dish of melodrama and distortion." First-novelist Tartt goes muzzy when she has to describe human confrontations (the murder, or sex, or even the ping-ponging of fear), and is much more comfortable in transcribing aimless dorm-room paranoia or the TV shows that the malefactors anesthetize themselves with as fate ticks down. By telegraphing the murders, Tartt wants us to be continually horrified at these kids—while inviting us to semi-enjoy their manneristic fetishes and refined tastes. This ersatz-Fitzgerald mix of moralizing and mirror-looking (Jay McInerney shook and poured the shaker first) is very 80's—and in Tartt's strenuous version already seems dated, formulaic. Les Nerds du Mal—and about as deep (if not nearly as involving) as a TV movie.
Pub Date: Sept. 16, 1992
ISBN: 1400031702
Page Count: 592
Publisher: Knopf
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 1992
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
© Copyright 2026 Kirkus Media LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Follow
Popular in this Genre
We can’t wait for you to join Kirkus!
It’s free and takes less than 10 seconds!
Already have an account? Log in.
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Welcome Back!
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
