Nirip on the cusp of fifty is not happy with his life. His father is an ogre and his mother a witch. He is not happy with that either. His sort of half-sister is a sort of half-man. A really close relative turns out to be a serial killer. He is not happy sleeping with his chauffeur's wife. Neither is she. Then, for his amusement, his father arranges a cricket match between rival dacoit teams in which some of the players are shot dead. Who could be happy in such circumstances?
Days before his fiftieth birthday, with Nirip still wondering whether he should go ahead and have himself kidnapped so that he can make some money, he discovers, most unexpectedly, that he is not the biological child of his parents.
Witty, macabre, sad, cruel, unforgivingly insightful, Fairy Tales at Fifty is part adventure tale, part nightmare, part acid trip---and throughout a triumph of fiction.
Upamanyu Chatterjee is an Indian author and administrator, noted for his works set in the Indian Administrative Service. He has been named Officier des Arts et des Lettres (Officer of the Order of Arts and Letters), by the French Government.
Imagine Salman Rushdie wanted to be Amitav Ghosh, but became Upamanyu instead. That didn't quite capture what I want to say, so I will say it simply. A convoluted plot that relies on occult exotic bordering on macabre and gore, strung tight on inter-meshed narratives that jump across the space time risking being pedantic on certain pages. It's a story of 2 lives, almost Kane & Abel, who have been put into a dark fairytale hand-blender making everything go haywire. But then perhaps that is exactly what the book aims for.
Some sections are brilliantly written- the words take a life of their own and dazzle you like shooting stars as you gasp to maintain pace with the narrative. At the same time, some sections are too surreal.
Read the book, if you want to really give a caffeine shot to your brain. But do not expect English August.
Travesty of a book from the author who gave us English August. The writing style desperately tries to attain that Salman Rushdie like tone and narration. It instead becomes a potpourri of long sentences, forced humour, over-abused display of descriptive prose and overall an unsatisfying treatment and ending of what could've been a great story. UC is having a hard time recreate the humour from English August and Mammaries..., perhaps he needs to believe in himself and take it easy. The book gives a hint that the once really good author has probably become bitter and morose over time.
The book went nowhere and everywhere all at once. The sardonic humor which worked so well in English August does not land here. After a long while I came across a book which I had a hard time finishing up
More of an acid trip, and somewhat a fairy tale! Every alternate page made me ponder why am I reading this, and every alternate page told me the reason why! All in all, a tough book to complete!
Terrible! Forced myself to read it but had to give up halfway through. Not worth the money or the effort. Much touted, but please don't bother with it!
A typical UC novel; verbose, profound, perverse, surreal, and silly. It was highly enjoyable in parts though it teetered on a little too long for my taste towards the end. The story itself is a filmy (Bollywood) saga filled with wonderfully flawed characters and over-the-top plot devices that take a deep look into a rich, spoilt Indian household.