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CROMARTIE V. THE GOD SHIVA

About to celebrate her 90th birthday, Godden, author of over 60 books for adults and children, again writes with grace and a cheerfully lilting prose, evoking the mannered high-style of a cultivated English/Indian backwater. Based on an actual case involving the theft of a statue of the god Shiva (in which the god, Acting Through the Government of India, became the plaintiff), this is a tale of quiet sleuthing, romance, and grand tragedy, set in a present-day Indian coastal hotel of minimal comforts but top-notch cuisine, courtesies, and clientele. Junior barrister Michael Dean, of a prestigious London firm, was raised in India and is now chosen to track down the thief who has made off with a priceless, revered statue of the god Shiva (in his manifestation as Lord of the Dance). The statue, an object of veneration, had long been resident in Patna Hall, a grandly veranda-ed hotel for the cultivated traveler (or those determined to be so). The hotel, managed by the elderly Englishwoman Miss Sanni, is where a visiting professor discovers that an elegant copy has been substituted for the god's statue. Joined by Dutta, an Indian Chief Inspector, Michael not only turns up both clues and questions in the hotel and in the marketplace, but also finds heated romance with cool, fascinating Artemis Knox, who arrives with a ``cultural'' group. Could the thieves have been old servants who worried that the hotel was in financial trouble? Could— certainly not!—Miss Sanni herself have sought such a solution? The truth, when revealed, will bring love and death in its wake. A delight for Godden's many followers, one encompassing the experience of the beauties and traditions of India, the richness of its religions, and Godden's own essential dash of gallantry and grand gestures.

Pub Date: Nov. 1, 1997

ISBN: 0-688-15550-2

Page Count: 208

Publisher: Morrow/HarperCollins

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 1, 1997

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LATE IN THE DAY

Restrained and tender.

The 30-year bond between a quartet of close friends—two couples—comes unglued when one of them dies unexpectedly in Hadley’s (The Past, 2016, etc.) quietly riveting latest.

Christine and Alex and Lydia and Zachary have been close since their early 20s; now in their 50s, they’re still close, the friendships among them still anchoring their lives. And then one night, Christine and Alex are listening to music when the telephone rings. It’s Lydia, from the hospital. Zachary is dead. He was fine, at his office at the gallery, talking about the next show, and then he wasn’t. Then he keeled over and was dead. For all the years they’ve known each other, Zachary has been a gentle force of nature. “Of all of us,” Christine thinks, “he’s the one we couldn’t afford to lose.” In the immediate aftermath of his death, the families band together: Alex goes to collect Lydia and Zachary’s daughter from college; Lydia comes to live, for a while, with her best friends. The women have been close since childhood, Lydia theatrical and romantic and borderline frivolous; Christine serious and artistic, the practical one of the pair. Shortly after university, the women met Alex and Zachary, also childhood friends. In the early days, it was Lydia who was in love with Alex, although he was unhappily married to somebody else. Zachary was well-matched with Christine. The partnerships evolved without animosity: Zachary married Lydia, in the end. Alex married Christine. For three decades, they remained close, the history between them no threat to the happy present. But after Zachary’s death, their pleasant equilibrium is thrown forever off-kilter, as remnants from the past bubble up to the surface. A four-person character study—here as always, Hadley is a master of interpersonal dynamics—the novel captures the complexity of loss. Their grief is not only for Zachary; it is for the lives they thought they knew.

Restrained and tender.

Pub Date: Jan. 15, 2019

ISBN: 978-0-06-247669-2

Page Count: 288

Publisher: Harper/HarperCollins

Review Posted Online: Oct. 1, 2018

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 2018

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PORTNOY'S COMPLAINT

There are two voices in Portnoy's Complaint, Philip Roth's quasi-autobiographical tour de force, though both voices are the voices of the hero. The truer one is best represented by the remarkable section called "Jewish Blues." Here the theme is adolescent rage, middle class New Jersey misery, and filial ambivalence ("a Jewish man with parents alive is a 15-year-old boy, and will remain a 15-year-old boy till they die!"). The tone is at once nostalgic and embittered, rollicking and sad, and the juxtaposition of domestic conventions with the wild masturbatory fantasies of young Alex Portnoy, achingly accurate in every respect, including the highly colored one of the "castrating" Jewish mama, often equals the pathetic brilliance of some of the short stories of Gogol and Babel, besides being, in its rather idiosyncratic way, a closer look at the "generation gap" than anything that has yet appeared in print. The other voice, while rarely losing its original verve, (this is, without doubt, the most "inspired" of Roth's performances), is much less authentic or agreeable: thirty-three-year-old Alex, hot shot lawyer in the Lindsay administration, self-deprecating slob and non-stop lecher, seems not so much a Roth creation as another of those porno-kvetching heroes familiar to readers of Bruce Jay Friedman, replete with bargain-sale displays of fellatio and cunnilingus, as well as an uncomfortable succession of shikses headed by "the Monkey," a votary of East Side Kama Sutra. The affair with Mary Jane, which occupies more than half of the book, is hysterical yet mechanical, private yet desperately unaware, appropriately exhausted on a note of "poetic justice"—Alex becomes impotent, and in Israel. Masterful in parts, phony in others, but obviously a "hot" best-seller.

Pub Date: Feb. 17, 1968

ISBN: 0679756450

Page Count: 308

Publisher: Random House

Review Posted Online: Oct. 4, 2011

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 1968

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