Bees to Honey, Moths to Light, Readers to Books

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Anthony DoerrA recent post by “Sarah” for Written Word Media described four principles of book cover design that psychological research  shows influence most people. Although individual preferences of course vary, there are enough common denominators to help readers understand why they’re drawn to a particular book on the bookstore table and to help authors and designers increase the odds that their book is the one picked up. On my next trip to the bookstore, I’m going to check this out!

The Big Green Tent, Ludmila UlitskayaSymmetry in the placement of image, title, author name, and so on. The examples used include All the Light We Cannot See, in which every element is centered on the page, except the later-added National Book Award notice, which stands out by its very non-symmetrical placement. A recent book cover I found myself quite drawn to was that for The Big Green Tent, and you’ll see that it gets a check mark in the symmetry box, too.

The Long Fire, Meghan TifftSimplicity in design also gets points. A chaotic cover may suggest chaos within. Give a prospective buyer too many images and text blocks, and the eye doesn’t really know where to look. There are lots of bad examples (some hilarious), but a good one is The Long Fire. Only after you’ve started reading do you realize the smudging over the lips has significance, but you don’t need to understand (or much notice) that beforehand. Subtle. Simple.

Ghost FleetColor. While I’m notorious for saying, “I don’t care what color it is, as long as it’s green,” in fact a more universally attractive color is blue. As Sarah says, color conveys (or should) a lot about the book’s mood. Note the color similarity between All the Light and the techno-thriller Ghost Fleet. Romance novels tend toward red (hot!), chick-lit toward pink and purple, thrillers toward red and black, darkness and fog. Glance at the rack in an airport and you can pretty much peg the books’ genre without reading a word of cover copy.

In Cold Blood, Truman CapoteContrast allows some elements in the book cover to stand out more than others. A book by a new author will likely emphasizes the title. Truman Capote was pretty well known when he wrote In Cold Blood and the cover reflects that. When it was written, there was a lot of buzz about that book, and the cover was designed so you couldn’t miss it. Admire the single drop of blood. (Or is that a hatpin?)

Typography – I’m adding a fifth item here that unlike Sarah’s tips relies not on science but purely in the domain of opinion. Color choice, use of images, and density of information on covers all have styles and trends. Sometimes a designer innovates to make a cover stand out; sometimes designers just copy what has worked well for another book—thinking or hoping readers will make some association with these past successes. Typography has gone through or may still be in the middle of one of those copycat phases, in which the cover’s words are designed to look hand-written in chalk or crayon. I first noticed this technique with The Fault in Our Stars (2012). Three years later, there are a half-dozen uses of it in this roundup of “most anticipated” new books for fall 2015. At that link you can see 42 new covers and Sarah’s principles followed and flaunted. Which are most attractive to you?

With all this in mind, read NPR’s recent deep dive into the significance and impact of the covers of the 2015 National Book Award shortlist with new appreciation!

Equivocation

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GunpowderPlot, quills

(artwork: Scott McKowen for STNJ)

Regrettably, this review comes after the run of Equivocation by award-winning playwright Bill Cain has ended at the Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey. Still, I hope you’ll watch for this sharply witty and thought-provoking play locally or, if you’re from the NJ-NY region, will take a good look at STNJ’s future offerings. They’re having a terrific season.

It’s 1606, King James I is on the English throne (one of the country’s Scottish kings), and he has written a story. Powerful Prime Minister Sir Robert Cecil asks Shag (Shakespeare) to turn the king’s story into a play, with the promise of considerable reward to the Globe theater company if he is successful, and, if he is not, well . . . best not dwell on the details.

The story deals with the very recent event known as The Gunpowder Plot, in which a group of Catholic men tunneled under Parliament, smuggled in 36 barrels of gunpowder, and would have blown up the king, his family, many notables, and the whole House of Lords on Parliament’s opening day. A mysterious letter alerts the king, and the plot is foiled. A man named Guy Fawkes is caught, and the plotters, whose names are gradually extracted via torture, are hideously murdered. Cecil knows a dramatization by Shag will fix the treasonous details about the powder plot in the memory of history.

While the theater company is overjoyed by the prospect of a royal commission, Shag resists writing about current-day events, especially as he comes to doubt the truth of the official version. The risks of being truthful are grimly evident, yet he won’t write a lie.

But what is a lie? The arrest of Father Henry Garnet, a Jesuit who wrote a book called Equivocation, brings this question to light. The priest asks his inquisitor, “If the king were in your house, and his enemies came to your door asking if he were there, would you say ‘yes’—and betray him—or would you say ‘no’—a lie?” Equivocation, the priest tells Shag, allows you to look at the question behind the question. And the real question in this instance is, “May I come in and kill the king?” And the answer is “no.” This is the key to resolving Shag’s struggle with the king’s powder plot story, too.

Cain’s play is deeply interesting historically, politically, religiously, theatricallly, and, as director Paul Mullins said in a post-show discussion, if you want to see it as current-day political allegory, “that’s OK, too.” At the same time it’s fast-moving, full of action, humor, and clever ripostes. Only six cast members play all the parts—many of them taking on 10 or more roles—and yet the staging was so expertly managed and so well acted that who they were playing was perfectly clear, moment to moment. This production had some shocking special effects too.

STNJ newcomers this year Matthew Stucky as Sharpe (a player, the King, plotter Wintour, etc.) and Dominic Comperatore as Nate (a player, Cecil, etc.), and long-time company utility infielder Kevin Isola as Armin (a player, a witch, states’ attorney, Lady Macbeth, etc.) deserve special mention, though all performances were strong.

Regarding The Gunpowder Plot, the program notes say, “The only thing we know with certainty about the event itself is that it could not possibly have occurred in the way the government claimed.” Accepted at face value for centuries, the government’s story has elicited more recent doubts, and even Parliament’s official website suggests the plot might have been the work of agents-provocateurs who wanted to discredit the Jesuits and cement the Protestant religion in the land.

Learning to Drive

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Ben Kingsley, Patricia Clarkson, Learning to DriveDirector Isabel Coixet has put together an altogether pleasant comedy (trailer) set in Manhattan, although much of the action takes place on the inside—inside Wendy Shields (played by Patricia Clarkson) whose husband has left her for younger woman, forcing her to rethink her life. This leads to the startling decision to learn to drive. It takes place on the inside of her Sikh driving instructor, Darwan (Ben Kingsley), whose life is upended by the arrival of an Indian woman he’s never met who’s expecting to become his wife. And, it takes place on the inside of Jasleen (Sarita Choudhury), who speaks little English and who has entered a much more foreign territory than a stamp on a passport would suggest.

The superb cast conveys all the internal yearning, turmoil, disappointment, and joy experienced by these characters without the burden of a heavy-handed script. Writer Sarah Kernochan based the screenplay on a New Yorker essay and built in plenty of funny and sweet moments, too. Especially appreciated is the opportunity to see the colorful and intriguing interior of a Sikh temple.

The cramped confines of a car make for filming challenges worthy of a team of contortionists, but it’s an intimate setting, too (as the excellent 2008 British movie Happy Go Lucky proved), in which quotidian experiences are spiced with the ever-present possibility of catastrophe (bicyclists! trucks! jaywalkers!). “You can’t always trust people to behave properly,” Darwan advises, and this truism resonates with his pupil. Though she would add the caveat that he actually does.

Rotten Tomatoes critics rating 67%; audiences 68%. Hard to understand why the critics dinged this movie for “predictability” and didn’t notice that exact problem in the awful Grandma which they liked! If you’ve had a hard week or are allergic to people screaming their problems at you for two hours, this is the better choice.

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Lincoln and More — Springfield, Illinois

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New Salem, Lincoln, log cabin

New Salem, Ill. (photo: Vicki Weisfeld)

A recent visit to Springfield included both highs and lows. Among the highs: the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum provides a creatively constructed retelling of the Lincoln story. While a familiar one, there also are a few surprises. The displays include two “Journeys”—the boyhood journey and the White House journey—special exhibits and a short film. All very nicely done. What surprised me most, perhaps because I’d forgotten in the recent outpouring of regard for Lincoln and my admiration of Daniel Day-Lewis, is the extent and viciousness of the press coverage of his Presidency. His critics weren’t above taking swipes at Mary Todd Lincoln, either. Perhaps our political dialog hasn’t moved toward more civility in the last 150 years, alas.

Lincoln home

The Lincoln home (photo: Vicki Weisfeld)

Other Lincoln-related highs were the reconstruction and historic district where his Springfield home stands—the only house he ever owned. Very interesting. And shifting back in time and creature comforts, New Salem, a recreated village a few miles northwest of Springfield, recreates the community where a young Lincoln lived for six years. There he tried to run two general stores and their failure prompted him to try something else—the law. New Salem includes 23 historically furnished buildings—homes, stores, shops, tavern, and so on, with costumed interpreters happy to tell you about life in this short-lived frontier outpost.

The state capitol was an unexpected beauty! Construction began in 1868, and it now appears to be in the last stages of a major renovation, complete with recreation of the elaborate stenciling and its acres of marble gleaming. There are tours, but we did it on our own, and since the legislative bodies were not in session, we could duck into the elaborately detailed house and senate chambers. If beauty is elevating, the people doing the people’s business have a lot to aspire to.

Illinois Statehouse, capitol, stenciling

(photo: Vicki Weisfeld)

We also enjoyed historic Edwards Place, home of the Springfield Art Association and a good demonstration of the stages of architectural renovation, and especially the Dana-Thomas House, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright in 1902. Owner and widow Susan Lawrence Dana wanted a place she could entertain for her various charities, and Wright gave her so much more! Small rooms, but 35 of them in 16 different living levels totaling 12,000 square feet, a nine-pins alley, a feast of leaded glass ornamentation in stylized Midwestern motifs—butterflies, corn, other plants—the largest collection of site-specific original Wright art glass.

On the downside, Springfield itself is tired and dusty. Several things we wanted to see were unexpectedly closed. The restaurant where we’d made an Open Table reservation was closed for vacation and—worst of all—someone stole my umbrella on a day it was pouring! Luckily, I saw her with it outside the capitol and said, “I think that’s mine.” It must have been my New Jersey affect—Tony Soprano and all. She surrendered it immediately.

Your Travel Circles:

  • Springfield is less than a hundred miles away when you’re in St. Louis (96 miles)
  • You’re only about 200 miles from Springfield when you’re in Chicago, Indianapolis (213), or Columbia, Mo. (185)

****The Laughing Monsters

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Freetown, Africa

Freetown (photo: bobthemagicdragon, creative commons license)

By Denis Johnson – The Laughing Monsters (2014) is an antic suspense novel that focuses on two friends—one white, one black—whose wild adventure starts in pre-Ebola Freetown, Sierra Leone, and unravels across Uganda, the Democratic Republic of Congo, and Ghana. Their goal is to make a financial killing doing something—selling government secrets, peddling fake uranium—then retire to a life on the beach.

Roland Nair, the book’s narrator, is a Scandinavian/American/NATO spook and an admitted coward in a land where courage needs to come in more than the liquid form he prefers. His long-time friend, handsome Michael Adriko, a son of Uganda, teeters on the edge of a major breakdown. Adriko’s undeniable courage and latent lethality is a good way to get both men into trouble. And does. But is Nair working with Adriko or against him?

Also along for the ride is Michael’s fifth fiancée, Davidia, daughter of a U.S. military commander running a secret post somewhere in the Congo. Davidia is beautiful—men’s “gazes followed behind her as if she swept them along with her hands,” and both Nair and Adriko want her. She’s patiently trying to make the best of their low-budget accommodations and travel arrangements, but even she reaches her limit and, anyway, her father wants her back.

Johnson, who won the National Book Award for his 2007 novel about Vietnam, Tree of Smoke, effectively evokes the fractured spirit of the place—the do-si-do-ing for advantage of the operatives loosely connected with various spy agencies with whom they negotiate, the tunnel vision of the American military personnel, the sinister and sometimes overtly threatening village residents they encounter when they’re far from transportation and cell phone coverage.

banana leaves

(photo: Sandi Plek, creative commons license)

The author presents his characters with precision and a fine appreciation of absurdity. Here’s how Nair describes one of Michael’s reckless schemes: “As [Michael] expressed these ideas he followed them with his eyes, watching them gallop away to the place where they made sense.”

Johnson is equally good at conveying the sensory-overload of the African environment: not only the mind-baking heat and the mud and the tainted water, but the ramshackle villages and spluttering vehicles, the barmen and the prostitutes. Nair plunges into political incorrectness with an unforgettable description of an African prostitute “wearing a curly blonde wig, like a chocolate-covered Marilyn Monroe.”

I really enjoyed the first 175 pages or so of this 228-page book, though in the final section, the gods of chaos and Really Bad Hangovers hijacked the narrative, and I felt I was losing the thread. On the whole, it is as described by New York Times critic Joy Williams, “cheerfully nihilistic” as it lays bare the “giddy trickle-down of global exploitation and hubris—the farcical exploits of cold dudes in a hard land.”

Indianapolis Gems

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Indianapolis has been on a 50-year path to assuring its downtown remains vital and inviting. More than a billion dollars has been spent in downtown development, which included its successful early efforts to become a sports mecca (it’s home to the National Collegiate Athletic Association and National Federation of State High School Associations).

In the last decade, the city has created 150 miles of bike lanes and trails. The award-winning Cultural Trail alone has generated about $300 million in new development. Opened in 2013, this wide pedestrian and bicycle path makes an eight-mile loop around the city’s center, linking the Capitol, the Indianapolis Zoo (Luckily we didn’t go there on the day we visited downtown. A cheetah got loose—no end to the excitement in Indy!), the Canal and White River State Park, six cultural districts, and major museums.

One of these is the Eiteljorg Museum of American Indians and Western Art—an unexpected delight in this flat Midwestern city. Noteworthy paintings and bronze sculptures in the downstairs galleries provide a mostly romanticized view of their subjects—settlers, Indians, cowboys, and the landscape. Such works were how Americans on the East Coast first came to appreciate the beauty of America west of the Mississippi.

Upstairs are beautiful photographic portraits and artifacts from many American Indian cultures. The museum offers hands-on demonstrations for kids, too, as well as special exhibits and sales throughout the year. The museum’s indoor-outdoor cafe overlooks the canal and offers southwestern cuisine. A great stop. Also see my review of the Eiteljorg’s neighbor, the Indianapolis State Museum.

Your Travel Circles:

  • You’re only an hour from Indianapolis when you’re in Bloomington (51 mi)
  • About two hours away when you’re in Cincinnati (112), Louisville (115), or Dayton (117)
  • About three hours away when you’re in Columbus (175) or Chicago (182)

Grandma

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Lily Tomlin, GrandmaWait for cable. This Paul Weitz film (trailer) has had some mixed, but mostly positive reviews, and we gave it a chance based on the cast line-up: Lily Tomlin, Marcia Gay Harden, Sam Elliott.

As it turns out, the best, most persuasive performance comes from pale-as-paper Julia Garner, who plays Tomlin’s 18-year-old granddaughter, Sage. Her role mostly requires looking on in dismay as the “grown-ups” whom she hopes will help her rant viciously at each other and dredge up decades-old animosities. By staying out of it, she is revealed as Sage the wise, not Sage the turkey-and-dressing ingredient.

People vary sharply in what they find funny. Alas, I don’t find a firehose delivery of insults and putdowns more than boring. Tomlin’s character, poet Elle Reid, is unnaturally prickly and, faced with the pregnancy of her high school student granddaughter, she’s not even sympathetic—or discreet. “She’s already pregnant,” she announces to a young man who glances Sage’s way.

The movie’s plot revolves around Elle and Sage’s attemps to scare up $600 for an abortion, scheduled for 5:30 pm the day the movie takes place. This is not a gleeful situation, either. (The old Dodge was pretty cool, though.)

I’m a fan of Tomlin’s acting, but laudatory reviews to the contrary, she doesn’t seem really engaged with this highly predictable material. The ill-conceived (you should pardon the expression) and flimsy device of the appointment deadline puts manic urgency into the pair’s approaches to a succession of unlikely loan prospects. Tomlin’s interaction with the loser boyfriend is unbelievable in every particular, and nothing written for Tomlin’s character suggests she has a poetic bone in her body or the necessary mental discipline and insight for that craft.

Rotten Tomatoes critics rating: 93%; audiences: 72%.

Baby Doll–McCarter Theatre’s Season Opener

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Baby Doll, Tennessee Williams, McCarter Theatre

Hoffman and McDermott in Baby Doll

Perhaps Tennessee Williams and comedy don’t usually share your same mind-space, but here is a comedy-drama rather neglected in the back of his vast repository of work. Princeton’s McCarter Theatre (link includes a behind the scenes video) has found it, resurrected it, and mounted it in an exciting production on view through October 11.

The play, Baby Doll, was always a mashup. It began with two one-acts (“27 Wagons Full of Cotton” and one with a title something like “The Dinner Nobody Wanted”). It was turned into a script for a 1956 Elia Kazan movie starring Caroll Baker, Karl Malden, an Elie Wallach in his first movie role. That version went through many Kazan-initiated revisions and excited much Church opposition for its racy content—tame today compared to prime time tv. Williams later wrote a full-length stage play based on the screenplay, Tiger Tail, that had a short Broadway run in 1999. But generally, the project lay neglected.

Recently, it was retranslated and revived in France by Pierre Laville, and when McCarter’s Emily Mann read Laville’s version, she saw great potential. She and Laville share “adapted for the stage” credits, as further work had to be done by Mann to reflect American perspectives, particularly regarding race relations in Mississippi in the early 1950s. Miraculously, two weeks before rehearsals began, Mann discovered in Princeton University’s Firestone Library the original movie script by Williams, as he wrote it before Kazan’s “help.” More revisions ensued.

“Baby Doll” is a 19-year-old beauty, married to a much older man, Archie Lee Meighan and living in a falling-apart plantation house (handsome stage set). Baby Doll thought she was not “ready for marriage” at age 18. Although the wedding took place then, it is yet to be consummated (she still sleeps in her crib), according to the deal she, Archie Lee, and her father made before his death. The waiting—which is to end in two more days when Baby Doll turns 20—is driving Archie crazy. He both loves and lusts after her, feelings she does not return.

Archie Lee is nearly destitute, having lost his cotton gin business to the nearby Syndicate plantation, and Baby Doll is furious that the house’s furniture is repossessed. When the Syndicate’s gin is destroyed in a not-so-mysterious fire, the young plant manager, handsome Silva Vacarro, pays the Meighans a visit, bringing with him 27 wagons full of cotton for Archie’s gin. When Archie leaves to take care of the cotton, Silva—an Italian and exotic in those parts—tries to trick Baby Doll into revealing her husband’s role in the fire, and, as New York Times reviewer Charles Isherwood says, “we can practically see her little mind clicking along a few beats behind her tongue.”

The comedy in the play comes not from Neil Simon-style one-liners, but out of the human absurdities of normal, everyday action and impulse. In a post-show discussion, the actors said Mann insists they play their lines straight; playing for laughs would cheapen the effect. That earnestness is what makes the four characters—Baby Doll (Susannah Hoffman), Archie Lee (Robert Joy), Silva (Dylan McDermott), and Baby Doll’s Aunt Rose Comfort (Patricia Conolly)—so believable. While you’re chuckling, your heart is twisting. The play ends on a bit of a Scarlett O’Hara moment, with Baby Doll’s resolution to let tomorrow take care of itself.

Veteran actor Patricia Conolly talked about some of the similarities between the elderly, half-deaf, semi-oblivious maiden aunt she plays here and other Williams characters she’s portrayed. Such women live on the edges of family and society, and they must make enormous effort to “get along,” even with the most demanding hosts (“I have always depended on the kindness of strangers,” Blanche DuBois says.) Otherwise, as Aunt Rose Comfort puts the problem, they “have no place to go.” (Aunt Rose is a secondary character who manages to put a monkey wrench in situations fairly often, being where she shouldn’t be or not being where she should be. And, if you’ve ever had an elderly relative who’s become hard-of-hearing, you’ll know Williams got it right: she hears what she wants to hear!)

At only 90 minutes, Baby Doll is not as complex as Williams’s Big 3: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Streetcar Named Desire, and The Glass Menagerie, but it’s well worth adding to your Williams experience.

Cover-Ups and Freak-Outs

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quilt, stars

“Stars and Sparks” by Judy Tescher (photo: Vicki Weisfeld)

A terrific show is at the Indiana State Museum in Indianapolis through October 4. Titled “19 Stars: Quilts of Indiana’s Present and Past,” the show was conceived as a way to mark the upcoming 200th anniversary of Indiana statehood, the 19th state to join the Union. The quilts on display—19 historic ones and 19 contemporary designs—all have reference to star patterns and themes. The photo at right is a portion of one of the modern quilts, “Stars and Sparks,” by Judy Tescher (and now the screensaver on my iPhone).

The historic quilts were made from the 1830s to 1980s (historic? I remember the 80s!), while many of the contemporary quilts were created especially for this exhibition. All show both literal as well as creative interpretations of the star motif. The 2010 artists use a wide array of construction techniques and often work collaboratively. Modern sewing machines have expanded the types of actual quilting they can accomplish.

quilt, stars

“Stars” by Mary Kay Horn (photo: Vicki Weisfeld)

Some of the quilts are beautiful mostly because of the fabrics used, and some, old and new, because of the intricacy of the quilting, which is what holds the fancy top together with the (in historic days) cotton batting in the middle and the usually plain backing. At left, “Stars,” by Mary Kay Horn, and, below, “Bohemian Fireworks,” by Sandra Peterson, which uses the same color techniques the Impressionist painters did to make the colors pop.

I still have and use quilts my grandmother and great-grandmother made, and I have a dim memory of visiting my great-grandmother’s home when a neighborhood quilting bee was in progress. The tops of the patchwork type of quilts were made from material leftover from sewing. Adult family members could point to a patch and say, “I always loved that dress”—one they’d had when they were schoolgirls—or “That’s the dress I wore to cousin Louise’s wedding!” Other tops seemed to have been made from purpose-bought fabric because the whole project uses the same materials—too much material to be just leftovers. A “Lone Star” quilt—popular in my grandparents’ home state of Texas—and a detail from it are at the bottom of this post. It’s from the 1830’s, the oldest quilt in the show and the detail indicates they were no slouches when it came to intricate quilting in those days either!

quilts, stars

“Bohemian Fireworks” by Sandra Peterson (photo by Vicki Weisfeld)

A unique aspect of this museum visit that other patrons cannot count on experiencing was that the power went out shortly after we arrived. Thankfully, emergency generators kept the quilt exhibit well lit. Though parts of the museum were in darkness and had to be forgone, we became fascinated to watch catering staff soldiering on with the setup of a wedding dinner and reception for about 350 people (counting place-settings), and the band members snake their many cords across a stage. This space was well lit by windows in the middle of the day, but at party time, who’s going to take the chance to plug in that amp?

The reception was booked for a room on the top floor, so cocktail tables, plastic bins of glassware, and everything had to be carried up four flights. The wedding guests, I’m guessing, would miss those elevators, too! If you’ve ever organized an event of this size, you’ll see how it had all the makings of a major freak-out opportunity. I couldn’t help hoping no one had told the bride’s mother yet, that the power would kick back on, and she’d never have to know.

Your Travel Circles:

  • You’re only an hour from Indianapolis when you’re in Bloomington (51 mi)
  • About two hours away when you’re in Cincinnati (112), Louisville (115), or Dayton (117)
  • About three hours away when you’re in Columbus (175) or Chicago (182)
quilts, stars

“Lone Star” from the 1830s (photo: Vicki Weisfeld)

 

quilts, stars

“Lone Star” detail (photo: Vicki Weisfeld)

****The Financial Expert

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India, dawn, village

(photo: Mario Lapid, creative commons license)

By R. K. Narayan (1906-2001)– A friend brought me this book from a trip to India, where the acclaimed author is well appreciated for his classic tales. They combine a deceptively simple narrative style and acute perceptions of human nature in all its absurdity and poignancy. Graham Greene was an early Narayan admirer and helped bring his work to attention in the West.

In this novella, the hero, Margayya, although indubitably Indian, also is “a type which should have taken its place long ago in world literature because he exists everywhere.” Margayya, whose name means “the one who showed the way,” indeed does show the way, although his ultimate destination is not what he hopes or has planned. His story begins in his early career, sitting daily underneath a banyan tree at the center of his dusty village with his small box of forms and pens, helping peasants sort their finances, brokering loans, and earning barely enough to keep his wife and adored son, Balu, in food.

Over the course of the book, his financial prospects greatly improve, Balu grows up, and Margayya rises to great heights on the back of his miraculous financial innovation that the reader recognizes as, essentially, a Ponzi scheme. But ungrateful Balu proves Margayya’s undoing, and the lesson stretches beyond the financial calamity it produces: “The only element that kept people from being terrified of each other was trust—the moment it was lost, people became nightmares to each other.”

As the plot winds toward the inevitable, Margayya’s vanities, his obliviousness disguised as business acumen, and the jockeying for advantage of everyone around him—in an economic environment where so little advantage is to be had—provides ample fodder for  the kind of laugh-at-ourselves “humour that knows no national boundaries,” says Der Kurier, Berlin, also the source of the earlier quote.

The story takes place in the mid-1920s to 1940s, when colonial rule in India was drawing to a close and the country’s legendary legacy of bureaucracy was increasingly entrenched. This exchange between two of Margayya’s acquaintances sums up the incessant frustrations:

The first man is commenting on his difficulties getting a nuisance business moved somewhere else: “. . . you know what our municipalities are!”

Second man in an aside to Margayya: “He is himself a municipal councillor for this ward . . . and yet he finds so much difficulty in getting anything done. He had such trouble to get that vacant plot for himself—”

First man: “I applied for it like any other citizen. Being a municipal councillor doesn’t mean that I should forgo the ordinary rights and privileges of a citizen.”

Well said. I laughed out loud.

In the introduction to another of his books, Narayan says that in India “the writer has only to look out of the window to pick up a character and thereby a story,” and in Margayya he has selected an unforgettable protagonist and packed his tale with humanity.