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Bookless in Baghdad: Reflections on Writing and Writers
A collection of semi-autobiographical essays on the literary world includes the title piece, which illuminates the challenges faced by modern Iraqis in acquiring books, and additional writings on such topics as the persecution endured by historical literary masters and the impact of globalization. By the author of Nehru.
288 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2005
74 people are currently reading
1329 people want to read
About the author
Shashi Tharoor
77 books3,074 followersShashi Tharoor is a member of the Indian Parliament from the Thiruvananthapuram constituency in Kerala. He previously served as the United Nations Under-Secretary General for Communications and Public Information and as the Indian Minister of State for External Affairs.
He is also a prolific author, columnist, journalist and a human rights advocate.
He has served on the Board of Overseers of the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University. He is also an adviser to the International Committee of the Red Cross in Geneva and a Fellow of the New York Institute of the Humanities at New York University. He has also served as a trustee of the Aspen Institute, and the Advisory of the Indo-American Arts Council, the American India Foundation, the World Policy Journal, the Virtue Foundation and the human rights organization Breakthrough He is also a Patron of the Dubai Modern High School and the managing trustee of the Chandran Tharoor Foundation which he founded with his family and friends in the name of his late father, Chandran Tharoor.
Tharoor has written numerous books in English. Most of his literary creations are centred on Indian themes and they are markedly “Indo-nostalgic.” Perhaps his most famous work is The Great Indian Novel, published in 1989, in which he uses the narrative and theme of the famous Indian epic Mahabharata to weave a satirical story of Indian life in a non-linear mode with the characters drawn from the Indian Independence Movement. His novel Show Business (1992) was made into the film 'Bollywood'(1994). The late Ismail Merchant had announced his wish to make a film of Tharoor’s novel Riot shortly before Merchant’s death in 2005.
Tharoor has been a highly-regarded columnist in each of India's three best-known English-language newspapers, most recently for The Hindu newspaper (2001–2008) and in a weekly column, “Shashi on Sunday,” in the Times of India (January 2007 – December 2008). Following his resignation as Minister of State for External Affairs, he began a fortnightly column on foreign policy issues in the "Deccan Chronicle". Previously he was a columnist for the Gentleman magazine and the Indian Express newspaper, as well as a frequent contributor to Newsweek International and the International Herald Tribune. His Op-Eds and book reviews have appeared in the Washington Post, the New York Times and the Los Angeles Times, amongst other papers.
Tharoor began writing at the age of 6 and his first published story appeared in the “Bharat Jyoti”, the Sunday edition of the "Free press Journal", in Mumbai at age 10. His World War II adventure novel Operation Bellows, inspired by the Biggles books, was serialized in the Junior Statesman starting a week before his 11th birthday. Each of his books has been a best-seller in India. The Great Indian Novel is currently in its 28th edition in India and his newest volume. The Elephant, the Tiger and the Cellphone has undergone seven hardback re-printings there.
Tharoor has lectured widely on India, and is often quoted for his observations, including, "India is not, as people keep calling it, an underdeveloped country, but rather, in the context of its history and cultural heritage, a highly developed one in an advanced state of decay.". He has also coined a memorable comparison of India's "thali" to the American "melting pot": "If America is a melting pot, then to me India is a thali--a selection of sumptuous dishes in different bowls. Each tastes different, and does not necessarily mix with the next, but they belong together on the same plate, and they complement each other in making the meal a satisfying repast."
He is also a prolific author, columnist, journalist and a human rights advocate.
He has served on the Board of Overseers of the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University. He is also an adviser to the International Committee of the Red Cross in Geneva and a Fellow of the New York Institute of the Humanities at New York University. He has also served as a trustee of the Aspen Institute, and the Advisory of the Indo-American Arts Council, the American India Foundation, the World Policy Journal, the Virtue Foundation and the human rights organization Breakthrough He is also a Patron of the Dubai Modern High School and the managing trustee of the Chandran Tharoor Foundation which he founded with his family and friends in the name of his late father, Chandran Tharoor.
Tharoor has written numerous books in English. Most of his literary creations are centred on Indian themes and they are markedly “Indo-nostalgic.” Perhaps his most famous work is The Great Indian Novel, published in 1989, in which he uses the narrative and theme of the famous Indian epic Mahabharata to weave a satirical story of Indian life in a non-linear mode with the characters drawn from the Indian Independence Movement. His novel Show Business (1992) was made into the film 'Bollywood'(1994). The late Ismail Merchant had announced his wish to make a film of Tharoor’s novel Riot shortly before Merchant’s death in 2005.
Tharoor has been a highly-regarded columnist in each of India's three best-known English-language newspapers, most recently for The Hindu newspaper (2001–2008) and in a weekly column, “Shashi on Sunday,” in the Times of India (January 2007 – December 2008). Following his resignation as Minister of State for External Affairs, he began a fortnightly column on foreign policy issues in the "Deccan Chronicle". Previously he was a columnist for the Gentleman magazine and the Indian Express newspaper, as well as a frequent contributor to Newsweek International and the International Herald Tribune. His Op-Eds and book reviews have appeared in the Washington Post, the New York Times and the Los Angeles Times, amongst other papers.
Tharoor began writing at the age of 6 and his first published story appeared in the “Bharat Jyoti”, the Sunday edition of the "Free press Journal", in Mumbai at age 10. His World War II adventure novel Operation Bellows, inspired by the Biggles books, was serialized in the Junior Statesman starting a week before his 11th birthday. Each of his books has been a best-seller in India. The Great Indian Novel is currently in its 28th edition in India and his newest volume. The Elephant, the Tiger and the Cellphone has undergone seven hardback re-printings there.
Tharoor has lectured widely on India, and is often quoted for his observations, including, "India is not, as people keep calling it, an underdeveloped country, but rather, in the context of its history and cultural heritage, a highly developed one in an advanced state of decay.". He has also coined a memorable comparison of India's "thali" to the American "melting pot": "If America is a melting pot, then to me India is a thali--a selection of sumptuous dishes in different bowls. Each tastes different, and does not necessarily mix with the next, but they belong together on the same plate, and they complement each other in making the meal a satisfying repast."
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February 3, 2013
To Dr. Shashi Tharoor,
97 Lodhi Estate,
New Delhi-03
Tel: 24644035
Fax: 24654158
Subject:- A letter asking for apology
Respected Sir,
Like a scale firmly settled on a pipe, refusing to budge, the image that I have conjured up of your alleged persona from the various newspaper co-eds and news channels, preceded your merit. To tell you the truth, regardless of your impressive stint at the U.N., I had had never held you in a high opinion. The controversy surrounding I.P.L. (one mustn't bring out the skeleton from the closet, but alas..) was, unfortunately the only thing that I could relate to you. It of course was my own failing, not being able to hear the other side of the story, but then you weren't as vociferous in your arguments as your critics were. Politicians have time and again taken a dig at you, and have attempted to tar your image with snide remarks.
And I have been gullible. That's why I ask for your apology. I have for long fancied myself as an independent spirit, to me, my opinions seemed impregnable from the seepage of all possible color, but I discovered yet again that there exist a possibility of correction. I recently, on impulse picked up a copy of 'Bookless in Baghdad' from the library. Just a single little statement was the clincher. One year I kept a list of the volumes I'd finished (comics didn't count), hoping to reach 365 before the calendar did. I made it before Christmas.
To tell you the truth, I haven't imagined you to be much of a writer. What I actually believed was that you might have written some longish, scholarly prose on GDP or quality of life (as you were from U.N.!) and that's why following Vismay's rule of thumb, more boring a book is, more rave reviews it receives. But I was delighted to discover that I wasn't entirely true in my judgement. This present book, was indeed an eclectic collection or what I would call 'a quanta of creatively and cogently argued confabulations with a mute reader'. Though, I do not agree with your opinion on R.K. Narayan, I have indeed received the same joy, as you most certainly have, on reading P.G. Wodehouse. Your spirited defense of Salman Rushdie, your description of the various literary fests which I have vicariously visited through this book and all the other motley bunch of writers mentioned here - I indeed have had a good time along with your book. And why shouldn't I have fun? After all, it concerned all things literary.
So as a parting note I would like to tell you, sir, that though I wouldn't most certainly drool over your every adjective, but if I do catch phrases like, 'That consensus is around the simple principle that in a democracy you don't really need to agree - except on the ground rules of how will you disagree.', '...if America is a melting pot, then to me India is a thali...' or '...and imagined them hallowed by repetition rather than hollowed by regurgitation...', you would be able to read my admiration in the smile that I would give. I once again apologize.
Yours Sincerely,
Vismay Harani
97 Lodhi Estate,
New Delhi-03
Tel: 24644035
Fax: 24654158
Subject:- A letter asking for apology
Respected Sir,
Like a scale firmly settled on a pipe, refusing to budge, the image that I have conjured up of your alleged persona from the various newspaper co-eds and news channels, preceded your merit. To tell you the truth, regardless of your impressive stint at the U.N., I had had never held you in a high opinion. The controversy surrounding I.P.L. (one mustn't bring out the skeleton from the closet, but alas..) was, unfortunately the only thing that I could relate to you. It of course was my own failing, not being able to hear the other side of the story, but then you weren't as vociferous in your arguments as your critics were. Politicians have time and again taken a dig at you, and have attempted to tar your image with snide remarks.
And I have been gullible. That's why I ask for your apology. I have for long fancied myself as an independent spirit, to me, my opinions seemed impregnable from the seepage of all possible color, but I discovered yet again that there exist a possibility of correction. I recently, on impulse picked up a copy of 'Bookless in Baghdad' from the library. Just a single little statement was the clincher. One year I kept a list of the volumes I'd finished (comics didn't count), hoping to reach 365 before the calendar did. I made it before Christmas.
To tell you the truth, I haven't imagined you to be much of a writer. What I actually believed was that you might have written some longish, scholarly prose on GDP or quality of life (as you were from U.N.!) and that's why following Vismay's rule of thumb, more boring a book is, more rave reviews it receives. But I was delighted to discover that I wasn't entirely true in my judgement. This present book, was indeed an eclectic collection or what I would call 'a quanta of creatively and cogently argued confabulations with a mute reader'. Though, I do not agree with your opinion on R.K. Narayan, I have indeed received the same joy, as you most certainly have, on reading P.G. Wodehouse. Your spirited defense of Salman Rushdie, your description of the various literary fests which I have vicariously visited through this book and all the other motley bunch of writers mentioned here - I indeed have had a good time along with your book. And why shouldn't I have fun? After all, it concerned all things literary.
So as a parting note I would like to tell you, sir, that though I wouldn't most certainly drool over your every adjective, but if I do catch phrases like, 'That consensus is around the simple principle that in a democracy you don't really need to agree - except on the ground rules of how will you disagree.', '...if America is a melting pot, then to me India is a thali...' or '...and imagined them hallowed by repetition rather than hollowed by regurgitation...', you would be able to read my admiration in the smile that I would give. I once again apologize.
Yours Sincerely,
Vismay Harani
October 5, 2015
A four-point guide to enjoying Bookless in Baghdad:
1. Skip the essays In Defence of the Bollywood Novel, A Novel of Collisions and Art for Heart’s Sake. These are essentially endorsements for his own books. Worse, they are pompous, self-indulgent, and annoyingly serious in tone. Tharoor’s trademark wit dries up when he starts talking himself and his books up.
Exhibit A:I have always believed that, as the very word ‘novel’ suggests, there must be something new or innovative about every novel one sets out to write; otherwise what would be the point? (This from a self-professed devotee of Wodehouse, that delightful writer who published roughly the same novel every year*)
Exhibit B:As a writer, I had always believed that the way I tell a story is as important to me as the story itself. The manner in which the narrative unfolds is as…OH GOD! PLEASE STOP, SHASHI! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, LET’S MOVE ON!!!
2. Any paragraph in which one comes upon the name of any of his books (The Great Indian Novel, Riot, Show Business, India: From Midnight to the Millennium and Beyond) should be immediately skipped for the next. It is likely to contain more self-indulgent tripe.
3. Tharoor’s reflections on other writers are a delight. His ode to Wodehouse is replete with many of the Master’s celebrated turns of phrase ("She had more curves than a scenic railway"; "her face was shining like the seat of a bus driver's trousers"; "I turned him down like a bedspread"; and the much-quoted "if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled."), but it also contains the slightly self-conscious grief of the adolescent worshipper:
…his death still came as a shock. Three decades earlier, Wodehouse had reacted to the passing of his stepdaughter, Leonora, with the numbed words: "I thought she was immortal." I had thought Wodehouse was immortal too, and I felt the bereavement keenly.
He offers a measured, if trenchant, critique of R. K. Narayan:
Like Austen, his fiction was restricted to the concerns of a small society portrayed with precision and empathy; unlike Austen, his prose could not elevate those concerns beyond the ordinariness of its subjects… At its worst, Narayan's prose was like the bullock- cart: a vehicle that can move only in one gear, is unable to turn, accelerate or reverse, and remains yoked to traditional creatures who have long since been overtaken but know no better.
Other writers featured include Pushkin, Neruda, Naipaul, Le Carré, Churchill, and Rushdie, among others. This section of the book, titled Reconsiderations, makes the book.
4. The rest of the book blows hot and cold. Tharoor tackles the Islamophobic, right-wing faction among Rushdie’s supporters in the wake of the fatwa, pays a fitting homage to Orwell by visiting a Spanish Civil War outpost for a cup of coffee, and wonders whether Westerners sometimes willingly indulge in “the pornography of povery”. His felicity of language ensures that even the unremarkable among his essays make for breezy reading.
I realize now that my review has unintentionally transformed halfway from a guide to a commentary. For some reason, it makes me more sympathetic towards Tharoor. He’s a good ‘un.
*As Wodehouse immortally remarked in the introduction to Summer Lightning:
A certain critic -- for such men, I regret to say, do exist -- made the nasty remark about my last novel that it contained 'all the old Wodehouse characters under different names.' He has probably by now been eaten by bears, like the children who made mock of the prophet Elisha: but if he still survives he will not be able to make a similar charge against Summer Lightning. With my superior intelligence, I have out-generalled the man this time by putting in all the old Wodehouse characters under the same names. Pretty silly it will make him feel, I rather fancy.
1. Skip the essays In Defence of the Bollywood Novel, A Novel of Collisions and Art for Heart’s Sake. These are essentially endorsements for his own books. Worse, they are pompous, self-indulgent, and annoyingly serious in tone. Tharoor’s trademark wit dries up when he starts talking himself and his books up.
Exhibit A:I have always believed that, as the very word ‘novel’ suggests, there must be something new or innovative about every novel one sets out to write; otherwise what would be the point? (This from a self-professed devotee of Wodehouse, that delightful writer who published roughly the same novel every year*)
Exhibit B:As a writer, I had always believed that the way I tell a story is as important to me as the story itself. The manner in which the narrative unfolds is as…OH GOD! PLEASE STOP, SHASHI! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, LET’S MOVE ON!!!
2. Any paragraph in which one comes upon the name of any of his books (The Great Indian Novel, Riot, Show Business, India: From Midnight to the Millennium and Beyond) should be immediately skipped for the next. It is likely to contain more self-indulgent tripe.
3. Tharoor’s reflections on other writers are a delight. His ode to Wodehouse is replete with many of the Master’s celebrated turns of phrase ("She had more curves than a scenic railway"; "her face was shining like the seat of a bus driver's trousers"; "I turned him down like a bedspread"; and the much-quoted "if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled."), but it also contains the slightly self-conscious grief of the adolescent worshipper:
…his death still came as a shock. Three decades earlier, Wodehouse had reacted to the passing of his stepdaughter, Leonora, with the numbed words: "I thought she was immortal." I had thought Wodehouse was immortal too, and I felt the bereavement keenly.
He offers a measured, if trenchant, critique of R. K. Narayan:
Like Austen, his fiction was restricted to the concerns of a small society portrayed with precision and empathy; unlike Austen, his prose could not elevate those concerns beyond the ordinariness of its subjects… At its worst, Narayan's prose was like the bullock- cart: a vehicle that can move only in one gear, is unable to turn, accelerate or reverse, and remains yoked to traditional creatures who have long since been overtaken but know no better.
Other writers featured include Pushkin, Neruda, Naipaul, Le Carré, Churchill, and Rushdie, among others. This section of the book, titled Reconsiderations, makes the book.
4. The rest of the book blows hot and cold. Tharoor tackles the Islamophobic, right-wing faction among Rushdie’s supporters in the wake of the fatwa, pays a fitting homage to Orwell by visiting a Spanish Civil War outpost for a cup of coffee, and wonders whether Westerners sometimes willingly indulge in “the pornography of povery”. His felicity of language ensures that even the unremarkable among his essays make for breezy reading.
I realize now that my review has unintentionally transformed halfway from a guide to a commentary. For some reason, it makes me more sympathetic towards Tharoor. He’s a good ‘un.
*As Wodehouse immortally remarked in the introduction to Summer Lightning:
A certain critic -- for such men, I regret to say, do exist -- made the nasty remark about my last novel that it contained 'all the old Wodehouse characters under different names.' He has probably by now been eaten by bears, like the children who made mock of the prophet Elisha: but if he still survives he will not be able to make a similar charge against Summer Lightning. With my superior intelligence, I have out-generalled the man this time by putting in all the old Wodehouse characters under the same names. Pretty silly it will make him feel, I rather fancy.
January 7, 2011
This book is a selection of the newspaper columns Shashi Tharoor has written over the years. Mr. Tharoor is a very well read man and at times one wonders if the point of this book is just to ensure that everyone is very well aware of that fact. He shares with us his eclectic taste in literature: his love for Wodehouse, why he thinks Rushdie is a hero, his sympathy towards Pushkin for his few Indian readers, why he finds R K Narayan's English bland, how he identifies with Neruda as a writer involved in politics, and so on. Some of all this is enjoyable but quite a lot is a tad boring, especially when he starts sprinkling anecdotes from his St. Stephen schooling and UN duty.
Overall, the book left me, in the authors words, 'both amused and bemused'
For colonialism gave us a literature that did not spring from our own environment, and whose characters, concerns, and situations bore no relation to our own lives. This didn't bother us in the slightest: A Bombay child read Blyton the same way a Calcutta kindergartner sang "Jingle Bells" without having seen snow or sleigh. If the stories were alien, we weren't alienated; they were to be read and enjoyed, not mined for relevance.
Overall, the book left me, in the authors words, 'both amused and bemused'
For colonialism gave us a literature that did not spring from our own environment, and whose characters, concerns, and situations bore no relation to our own lives. This didn't bother us in the slightest: A Bombay child read Blyton the same way a Calcutta kindergartner sang "Jingle Bells" without having seen snow or sleigh. If the stories were alien, we weren't alienated; they were to be read and enjoyed, not mined for relevance.
November 10, 2018
I was moved to the edge of kicking myself for not reading it before! Though only a collection of essays on reading and writing, this book is such an eye-opener!
Let me go to the background of how I picked up this book. I was with my mother for this huge prize-selection trip for her college students which required us to stay in a bookshop all day long. To pass my time, I picked up random books from various sheves without really noticing what titles I picked. Well, was I glad I picked this up!
I was sure Tharoor was a great writer but had absolutely no idea that he was an Indian's retort to British hot-shots like Dickens, Austen and for that matter, even Rowling!
If you call Rowling hypnotic, this man is Buddha himself (considering Buddha was a master of hypnosis)! He kept me engrossed for hours together and by the end of the day, I was craddling it in my arms as I slept.
Honestly, I hadn't been a reader before I read this. This book is not 'just another I-love-literature-because-I'm-a-writer' sort of book---it's more than that! It is something which everyone who reads and has a wee-bit of talent to write would cherish! Tharoor's tongue-in-cheek humour, rich expression and extensive knowledge about the authors he has read, of places he has been to and the experiences he has had while romancing with his partly political, partly literary career clearly make him the best author to be born on the Indian soil and make us Indians proud to be living under the same skies as him!
Let me go to the background of how I picked up this book. I was with my mother for this huge prize-selection trip for her college students which required us to stay in a bookshop all day long. To pass my time, I picked up random books from various sheves without really noticing what titles I picked. Well, was I glad I picked this up!
I was sure Tharoor was a great writer but had absolutely no idea that he was an Indian's retort to British hot-shots like Dickens, Austen and for that matter, even Rowling!
If you call Rowling hypnotic, this man is Buddha himself (considering Buddha was a master of hypnosis)! He kept me engrossed for hours together and by the end of the day, I was craddling it in my arms as I slept.
Honestly, I hadn't been a reader before I read this. This book is not 'just another I-love-literature-because-I'm-a-writer' sort of book---it's more than that! It is something which everyone who reads and has a wee-bit of talent to write would cherish! Tharoor's tongue-in-cheek humour, rich expression and extensive knowledge about the authors he has read, of places he has been to and the experiences he has had while romancing with his partly political, partly literary career clearly make him the best author to be born on the Indian soil and make us Indians proud to be living under the same skies as him!
November 18, 2020
এই প্রথম শশী থারুরের লেখা পড়া। টু-রিড তালিকায় এই লেখকের নাম আসলে ছিল না এতদিন। তবে আমি কতক অবাক এবং অনেকটা খুশি বইটা ভালো লেগেছে দেখে। স্পষ্টতই লেখকের এমন অনেক ব্যক্তিগত স্মৃতি, মতামতে বইটা ভরপুর, সেসবের অনেকগুলির পটভূমির ধারে-কাছেও কোনো দিন বিচরণ করিনি। এরকম ইংরেজিও যে তরতর করে পড়ে যেতে পারি তাও না। তবে অনেক কিছুই আবার অত্যন্ত পরিচিত মনে হয়েছে। নানাজাতের পাঠকদের একাধারে বৈচিত্র্যময় এবং সার্বজনীন নস্টালজিয়া ও আবেগের আরামদায়ক বয়ান, বিভিন্ন সাহিত্যিক ও বিষয়ে এনেকডোটগুলি যথেষ্ট উপভোগ্য ছিল। আরও কয়েকটা বিষয় উল্লেখ না করলেই না। যেমন, থারুরের কারণে রুশদীর মিডনাইট চিলড্রেন, নেহরুর ডিসকভারি অব ইন্ডিয়া মতো ঢাউশ বইগুলি পড়ার আগ্রহ নতুন করে বেড়েছে। 'দা জিওগ্রাফি অফ ক্রিটিসিজম' আর 'হাউ নট টু ডিল উইথ এ ব্যাড রিভিউ' প্রবন্ধগুলির বিষয়বস্তু পেশাগত চর্চার খুব কাছাকাছি বিচরণ করে বলে, কিছু বাড়তি উপাদানও দৃষ্টি কেড়েছে। প্রসঙ্গক্রমে দুই-তিনটা উদ্ধৃতি তুলে দিলাম।
"A reviewer's dislike of a particular book says at least as much about the reviewer as it does about the book."
"The entire point about literature is that, while it may emerge from a specific culture, it must speak to readers of other linguistic and cultural traditions, for what endures in good writing is not culture specific."
"Writers need bad reviews almost as much as they welcome good ones. It keeps us honest to be told when we've gone wrong."
ভালই লেগেছে বইটা পড়তে। কিন্তু এত কথাও পরেও থারুরের ফিকশন পড়ার তেমন আগ্রহ জাগল না। বরং এরপরে সময়-সুযোগ হলে তার লেখা নন-ফিকশনগুলি পড়ার ইচ্ছা রইল।
"A reviewer's dislike of a particular book says at least as much about the reviewer as it does about the book."
"The entire point about literature is that, while it may emerge from a specific culture, it must speak to readers of other linguistic and cultural traditions, for what endures in good writing is not culture specific."
"Writers need bad reviews almost as much as they welcome good ones. It keeps us honest to be told when we've gone wrong."
ভালই লেগেছে বইটা পড়তে। কিন্তু এত কথাও পরেও থারুরের ফিকশন পড়ার তেমন আগ্রহ জাগল না। বরং এরপরে সময়-সুযোগ হলে তার লেখা নন-ফিকশনগুলি পড়ার ইচ্ছা রইল।
December 16, 2020
This book had nothing to do with his time in Baghdad.
This book was about the books that were written by him and about the books that he read over the years growing up.
There was a lot of self promotion and promotion of the books he has written.
This book was about the books that were written by him and about the books that he read over the years growing up.
There was a lot of self promotion and promotion of the books he has written.
December 16, 2023
First sentence:
"Growing up as the child of middle class parents in urban India in the late 1950s and 60s meant growing up with books."
To begin with, i don't think Indian "middle-class" of that time had this luxury. Not in the 60s. Not even now!
My first Tharoor, and probably a wrong choice - for putting the cart in front of the horse.
Candid opinions on authors including - Wodehouse, Muggeridge, Churchill, Le Carrè, Pushkin, Neruda, Nirad C, RK Narayan, Naipaul(s), Rushdie...
Most of them i haven't read🙈
Still, I enjoyed reading his thoughts rooted in and around literature. Quite a few discussion worthy topics - like how is Wodehouse pronounced? Treatment of Indian authors at home vs outside India.
What irked me:
I get it that Tharoor has put much thought on The Great Indian Novel, hence it is bound to come out while discussing on literature.... but 35 odd references in 236 pages?? (Followed by Riot references, but hey who's counting!!)
Overall:
Good to get an overview of a range of good authors and literature in general. Would be better if you read it after reading some prominent works discussed in the book.
Loved the wordplay.
Only if you can discount the narcissist blowing of his own trumpet time and again!
Like he says:
"Show me a writer without an ego and I'll show you a good actor."
Another quote i liked:
"If America is a melting-pot, then to me India is a thali, a selection of sumptuous dishes in different bowls. Each tastes different, and does not necessarily mix with the next, but they belong together on the same plate, and they complement each other in making the meal a satisfying repast."
"Growing up as the child of middle class parents in urban India in the late 1950s and 60s meant growing up with books."
To begin with, i don't think Indian "middle-class" of that time had this luxury. Not in the 60s. Not even now!
My first Tharoor, and probably a wrong choice - for putting the cart in front of the horse.
Candid opinions on authors including - Wodehouse, Muggeridge, Churchill, Le Carrè, Pushkin, Neruda, Nirad C, RK Narayan, Naipaul(s), Rushdie...
Most of them i haven't read🙈
Still, I enjoyed reading his thoughts rooted in and around literature. Quite a few discussion worthy topics - like how is Wodehouse pronounced? Treatment of Indian authors at home vs outside India.
What irked me:
I get it that Tharoor has put much thought on The Great Indian Novel, hence it is bound to come out while discussing on literature.... but 35 odd references in 236 pages?? (Followed by Riot references, but hey who's counting!!)
Overall:
Good to get an overview of a range of good authors and literature in general. Would be better if you read it after reading some prominent works discussed in the book.
Loved the wordplay.
Only if you can discount the narcissist blowing of his own trumpet time and again!
Like he says:
"Show me a writer without an ego and I'll show you a good actor."
Another quote i liked:
"If America is a melting-pot, then to me India is a thali, a selection of sumptuous dishes in different bowls. Each tastes different, and does not necessarily mix with the next, but they belong together on the same plate, and they complement each other in making the meal a satisfying repast."
July 6, 2025
It was 2018. I was returning from a salty, windblown weekend in Digha—where the sea had roared, the skies had brooded, and my sunscreen had failed spectacularly. In the backseat of my car, as the roads stretched endlessly ahead, I cracked open Bookless in Baghdad: Reflections on Writing and Writers by Shashi Tharoor. By the time we hit Kolaghat, I was already deep into the book; by the time we reached home, I had finished it—each essay riding tandem with Ustad Rashid Khan’s Raag Megh gently pouring out of my car stereo like rain waiting to fall.
The book is a collection of essays—but don't mistake that for lightness. Tharoor, ever the erudite diplomat with a literary sword in hand, gives us an insider’s tour of the written word. From reviews to reflections, from literary gossip to political undertones, it’s a book lover’s delight and a writer’s diary rolled into one. Whether he’s ruminating on Rushdie’s The Satanic Verses controversy or dissecting Naipaul’s cultural crankiness, Tharoor’s voice is simultaneously personal and professorial. He writes like someone who has loved literature all his life, fought with it, judged it, worshipped it.
What struck me most, though, wasn’t just his sharp takes on other writers—it was his empathy. In the titular essay, Bookless in Baghdad, Tharoor recounts his visit to post-invasion Iraq, where libraries had been bombed and bookstores gutted. Amid the rubble, he finds readers and thinkers still clinging to words like lifelines. That essay hit hard. As Rashid Khan bent a note in Megh, raining down the monsoon of longing and defiance, I felt it: this aching need for books, for stories, even in bombed-out cities. Especially in bombed-out cities.
Tharoor’s prose, as always, is lush—sometimes too lush. Occasionally, you feel like you’ve walked into a garden of footnotes, and he's showing you every flower. But there’s a genuine love underneath it all. Whether he's defending Indian writing in English or pulling down literary snobbery, he’s doing it with flair—and a wicked vocabulary that makes you want to keep a dictionary nearby, just in case.
On that long drive back from Digha, with the sea behind me and the city ahead, I felt oddly between places. Bookless in Baghdad mirrored that state—poised between nostalgia and critique, between reverence for the written word and the awareness that books, like people, must survive fire to remain true.
If you’ve ever sat in a secondhand bookstore with a torn copy of Midnight’s Children or tried to write something meaningful at 3 a.m. and failed gloriously, this book will speak to you. If you’ve ever felt that literature isn’t just a pastime but a pulse—one that thumps louder in times of crisis—then Bookless in Baghdad isn’t just a read; it’s a gentle reaffirmation that you're not alone.
And yes, Ustad Rashid Khan’s Megh is the perfect soundtrack for it—half-rain, half-reckoning.
The book is a collection of essays—but don't mistake that for lightness. Tharoor, ever the erudite diplomat with a literary sword in hand, gives us an insider’s tour of the written word. From reviews to reflections, from literary gossip to political undertones, it’s a book lover’s delight and a writer’s diary rolled into one. Whether he’s ruminating on Rushdie’s The Satanic Verses controversy or dissecting Naipaul’s cultural crankiness, Tharoor’s voice is simultaneously personal and professorial. He writes like someone who has loved literature all his life, fought with it, judged it, worshipped it.
What struck me most, though, wasn’t just his sharp takes on other writers—it was his empathy. In the titular essay, Bookless in Baghdad, Tharoor recounts his visit to post-invasion Iraq, where libraries had been bombed and bookstores gutted. Amid the rubble, he finds readers and thinkers still clinging to words like lifelines. That essay hit hard. As Rashid Khan bent a note in Megh, raining down the monsoon of longing and defiance, I felt it: this aching need for books, for stories, even in bombed-out cities. Especially in bombed-out cities.
Tharoor’s prose, as always, is lush—sometimes too lush. Occasionally, you feel like you’ve walked into a garden of footnotes, and he's showing you every flower. But there’s a genuine love underneath it all. Whether he's defending Indian writing in English or pulling down literary snobbery, he’s doing it with flair—and a wicked vocabulary that makes you want to keep a dictionary nearby, just in case.
On that long drive back from Digha, with the sea behind me and the city ahead, I felt oddly between places. Bookless in Baghdad mirrored that state—poised between nostalgia and critique, between reverence for the written word and the awareness that books, like people, must survive fire to remain true.
If you’ve ever sat in a secondhand bookstore with a torn copy of Midnight’s Children or tried to write something meaningful at 3 a.m. and failed gloriously, this book will speak to you. If you’ve ever felt that literature isn’t just a pastime but a pulse—one that thumps louder in times of crisis—then Bookless in Baghdad isn’t just a read; it’s a gentle reaffirmation that you're not alone.
And yes, Ustad Rashid Khan’s Megh is the perfect soundtrack for it—half-rain, half-reckoning.
February 16, 2013
A collection of Tharoor's essays over the years. The book has nothing to do with Baghdad or "booklessness". Essays range from India's diversity, Tharoor's views on Mahabharata, his love for Wodehouse, and his literary tastes and his interactions with various literary giants in the course of his life in the UN and as an author.
Writing styles are as varied as the topics; descriptive when talking about literary festivals, didactic when talking about India and unity in diversity, snappy and witty in other articles. However, what abounds, is complicated long sentences and words that stretch and add to your vocabulary. I don't mind that, but be prepared for it, otherwise it may put you off.
In places, Tharoor paints the topics with a very broad brush, as is liable to be the case in a short newspaper column, but it left me unsatisfied. In others, he meanders, and wanders far away from the themes the title of the piece suggests. Some of the content (the exact same words) repeats across the book, and in places the book appears self-indulgent and elitist. I suppose that is a function of what the book is, as well as the author's upbringing and way of life. And the failing might be my own in feeling that way. I wouldn't hold it against him. However, as a reader, to me, the tone appears condescending (in places) and smacks of superiority.
The final portion of the book (Interrogations) is my favourite part of the book. I would recommend giving the rest of the book a miss, and just reading the last 30-40 pages to get a sense of Tharoor the author, and the thinker.
Writing styles are as varied as the topics; descriptive when talking about literary festivals, didactic when talking about India and unity in diversity, snappy and witty in other articles. However, what abounds, is complicated long sentences and words that stretch and add to your vocabulary. I don't mind that, but be prepared for it, otherwise it may put you off.
In places, Tharoor paints the topics with a very broad brush, as is liable to be the case in a short newspaper column, but it left me unsatisfied. In others, he meanders, and wanders far away from the themes the title of the piece suggests. Some of the content (the exact same words) repeats across the book, and in places the book appears self-indulgent and elitist. I suppose that is a function of what the book is, as well as the author's upbringing and way of life. And the failing might be my own in feeling that way. I wouldn't hold it against him. However, as a reader, to me, the tone appears condescending (in places) and smacks of superiority.
The final portion of the book (Interrogations) is my favourite part of the book. I would recommend giving the rest of the book a miss, and just reading the last 30-40 pages to get a sense of Tharoor the author, and the thinker.
May 23, 2021
Hard Nope.
I like books about books. I like hearing about people falling in love with books and what drives them- but this?
This was literally pompous windbag rhetoric shoved into a book. Not one bit of it was interesting and the author’s tone was horrid (especially when he was raving about his own works and how he did things so much better)
I feel like I read a completely different book than everyone reviewing this-but honestly, glad I got it from the library because I will not read anything by this author again.
I like books about books. I like hearing about people falling in love with books and what drives them- but this?
This was literally pompous windbag rhetoric shoved into a book. Not one bit of it was interesting and the author’s tone was horrid (especially when he was raving about his own works and how he did things so much better)
I feel like I read a completely different book than everyone reviewing this-but honestly, glad I got it from the library because I will not read anything by this author again.
November 11, 2013
BORRRIIIIINNNGGG....!!!
April 27, 2018
So self-serving at every turn I couldn't stand it.
October 20, 2015
The title of the book could make one assume that the book is about Shashi Tharoor’s time in Iraq, possibly as the Minister of State for External Affairs in India after 2009. But I am almost certain that he never visited Iraq in that capacity. I just bought the book simply because it is a Shashi Tharoor book and so it has got to be good, witty and insightful. I wasn’t disappointed. The subtitle ‘Other Writings about Reading’ gives away as to what the book is all about. It is a delightful collection of essays on subjects ranging from literature, criticism, writers, socio-political commentary, his own books and much else. As I expected, they are analytical, at times provocative, at times deeply personal and certainly with a liberal sprinkling of humour and sarcasm. It is an enjoyable read for the prose as well as the content.
The book is organized in five sections. Even though all the sections contain interesting pieces, I loved the section ‘Reconsiderations’ for his views on other writers, ‘Literary Life’ for his views on criticism and social commentary on illiteracy in the US and finally the section ‘Appropriations’ for the delightful piece on how his book ‘Show Business’ got mangled into a movie and his tribute to George Orwell by making the effort to have a cup of coffee in Huesca (Spain).
The section ‘Reconsiderations’ pays tribute to a number of writers and also has a go at some others like Winston Churchill and Nirad C. Choudhuri. In his piece ‘Right-ho sahib’, he speculates adoringly on why Wodehouse is so popular in India long after the English-speaking world forgot him. He suggests that perhaps it is due to the setting of an idyllic and charming world that we all want but doesn’t really exist in reality. I found in him a kindred soul here as it brought me happy memories of my high school days when I and my friends used to feverishly devour PGW books one after another.
The essays on Pushkin and Pablo Neruda are touching and heartfelt. He remarks ruefully that India has translations of Goethe, Garcia-Marquez and Kundera but no publisher has bothered to bring Pushkin to us in English or another Indian language. On Neruda, Tharoor quotes a few lines from his poem ‘To My Party’ as an example where Neruda soars in his vision high above the jargon laden propaganda of the Communist Party:
‘You have given me brotherhood towards the man I do not know,
You have given me added strength of all those who I do not know’,
You showed me how one person’s pain could die in the victory of all,
You have made me indestructible, for I no longer end in myself’
Tharoor is quite underwhelmed by R.K.Narayan’s work, which he says points to the banality of his concerns, narrowness of vision, predictability of prose and shallowness of the pool of experience and vocabulary from which he drew. That is not all. He says further that Narayan used words as if unconscious of their nuances: every other sentence included a word inappropriately or wrongly used.
The highest praise the author reserves is for Salman Rushdie, whom he honors with the accolade ‘the head of my profession’. In the essay ‘The Ground beneath his feet’, he says that Rushdie is the most gifted re-inventor of Indianness since Nehru. He quotes Rushdie himself as to why it is so - ‘the only people who see the whole picture are the ones who step out of the frame’.
Ever since V.S.Naipaul’s contention that Indians lack historical consciousness, I had often wondered why it is so. The essay ‘Bharatiya Sanskriti in the Big Apple’ has a thought-provoking and striking counterpoint from the Kannada language writer, Kambar, on this subject. Kambar postulates that the Indian cultural sensibility is marked by its non-linear notion of time. Time is not a controlled sequence of events in our minds, but an amalgamations of all events, past to present. Against the Western notion of ‘history’, Kambar posits a view of ‘many ages and many worlds’, including the mythic, constituting the Indian sense of present reality. Krishna’s lesson to Arjuna on the battlefield is not remote for us. That is why the frenzied mob in Ayodhya cannot be persuaded by people like him (Kambar) to leave the past alone because ‘the past is here’. As a writer, Kambar says that ‘instead of swallowing the Western notion of the integrity of a text and its sole author, we ought to celebrate the way in which Indians continually told and retold the Mahabharata. It is a matter of pride, says Kambar, that an entire country has collectively created an epic over a period of thousands of years. I found this a new and revolutionary perspective to ponder about.
The title piece ‘Bookless in Baghdad’ is poignant as it shows the post-sanctions Iraq in 1998 where people sell their precious book collections for cents in order to get by. The tribute to Orwell is deeply touching as Tharoor and his wife search out a coffee shop in the town of Huesca in Spain to pay their homage to Catalonia, about which George Orwell wrote ‘Tomorrow , we will have coffee in Huesca’! It reminded me of my own effort to find the village of Huettenberg in Austria, just so that I can see where Heinrich Harrer was from - as a result of reading ‘Seven Years in Tibet’!
It is one of Shashi Tharoor’s best books.
The book is organized in five sections. Even though all the sections contain interesting pieces, I loved the section ‘Reconsiderations’ for his views on other writers, ‘Literary Life’ for his views on criticism and social commentary on illiteracy in the US and finally the section ‘Appropriations’ for the delightful piece on how his book ‘Show Business’ got mangled into a movie and his tribute to George Orwell by making the effort to have a cup of coffee in Huesca (Spain).
The section ‘Reconsiderations’ pays tribute to a number of writers and also has a go at some others like Winston Churchill and Nirad C. Choudhuri. In his piece ‘Right-ho sahib’, he speculates adoringly on why Wodehouse is so popular in India long after the English-speaking world forgot him. He suggests that perhaps it is due to the setting of an idyllic and charming world that we all want but doesn’t really exist in reality. I found in him a kindred soul here as it brought me happy memories of my high school days when I and my friends used to feverishly devour PGW books one after another.
The essays on Pushkin and Pablo Neruda are touching and heartfelt. He remarks ruefully that India has translations of Goethe, Garcia-Marquez and Kundera but no publisher has bothered to bring Pushkin to us in English or another Indian language. On Neruda, Tharoor quotes a few lines from his poem ‘To My Party’ as an example where Neruda soars in his vision high above the jargon laden propaganda of the Communist Party:
‘You have given me brotherhood towards the man I do not know,
You have given me added strength of all those who I do not know’,
You showed me how one person’s pain could die in the victory of all,
You have made me indestructible, for I no longer end in myself’
Tharoor is quite underwhelmed by R.K.Narayan’s work, which he says points to the banality of his concerns, narrowness of vision, predictability of prose and shallowness of the pool of experience and vocabulary from which he drew. That is not all. He says further that Narayan used words as if unconscious of their nuances: every other sentence included a word inappropriately or wrongly used.
The highest praise the author reserves is for Salman Rushdie, whom he honors with the accolade ‘the head of my profession’. In the essay ‘The Ground beneath his feet’, he says that Rushdie is the most gifted re-inventor of Indianness since Nehru. He quotes Rushdie himself as to why it is so - ‘the only people who see the whole picture are the ones who step out of the frame’.
Ever since V.S.Naipaul’s contention that Indians lack historical consciousness, I had often wondered why it is so. The essay ‘Bharatiya Sanskriti in the Big Apple’ has a thought-provoking and striking counterpoint from the Kannada language writer, Kambar, on this subject. Kambar postulates that the Indian cultural sensibility is marked by its non-linear notion of time. Time is not a controlled sequence of events in our minds, but an amalgamations of all events, past to present. Against the Western notion of ‘history’, Kambar posits a view of ‘many ages and many worlds’, including the mythic, constituting the Indian sense of present reality. Krishna’s lesson to Arjuna on the battlefield is not remote for us. That is why the frenzied mob in Ayodhya cannot be persuaded by people like him (Kambar) to leave the past alone because ‘the past is here’. As a writer, Kambar says that ‘instead of swallowing the Western notion of the integrity of a text and its sole author, we ought to celebrate the way in which Indians continually told and retold the Mahabharata. It is a matter of pride, says Kambar, that an entire country has collectively created an epic over a period of thousands of years. I found this a new and revolutionary perspective to ponder about.
The title piece ‘Bookless in Baghdad’ is poignant as it shows the post-sanctions Iraq in 1998 where people sell their precious book collections for cents in order to get by. The tribute to Orwell is deeply touching as Tharoor and his wife search out a coffee shop in the town of Huesca in Spain to pay their homage to Catalonia, about which George Orwell wrote ‘Tomorrow , we will have coffee in Huesca’! It reminded me of my own effort to find the village of Huettenberg in Austria, just so that I can see where Heinrich Harrer was from - as a result of reading ‘Seven Years in Tibet’!
It is one of Shashi Tharoor’s best books.
December 9, 2017
Shashi Tharoor leaves no opportunity to sing paens for his home state Kerela. Here in this book, which is about his reading, his favourite authors and his writing, he forces readers to read his praise for Kerela which is completely out of context.
Then in the chapter dedicated to Salman Rushdie, he goes out of his way to sing praise for his political masters- the Indian National Congress and Sonia Gandhi in particular. Now why talk about Sonia Gandhi, her foreign roots and the INC when talking about Salman Rushdie?
Shashi Tharoor has some serious misconceptions about Uttar Pradesh too. In the same chapter, he writes " a typical Indian stepping off a train, a Hindi speaking Hindu male from the Gangetic Plain state of Uttar Pradesh, might cherish the illusion that he represents the 'majority community' ..... But he does not.... Worse, our archetypical Uttar Pradesh Hindu has only to mingle with the polygot, polychrome words thronging any of India's major railway stations to realise how much of a minority he is."
People from UP are well travelled (atleast in their own country) and well educated. They understand that they share their motherland with several other people - from the Ongi tribesmen of the Andaman & Nicobar Islands to the African origin Siddi tribe of Gujarat and Maharashtra.
UP is a land of diversities, very much like India. Several distinct dialects are spoken in different regions of Uttar Pradesh. Besides, the climate and geology also differs from region to region e.g.- the Agra and Mathura (Braj) are arid and dry while the Purvanchal is humid. Besides, these two regions speak an entirely different dialect- Brajbhasha and Bhojpuri respectively. If you look at Bundelkhand, instead of 'Gangetic Plains', you will see beginning of the Deccan plateau. And until 2001, before creation of Uttarakhand, UPites also boasted of dense forests, high, snow capped mountains and gushing water falls.
Dr Tharoor, instead of boring us with your songs of Kerela, please learn about the rest of the country.
Then in the chapter dedicated to Salman Rushdie, he goes out of his way to sing praise for his political masters- the Indian National Congress and Sonia Gandhi in particular. Now why talk about Sonia Gandhi, her foreign roots and the INC when talking about Salman Rushdie?
Shashi Tharoor has some serious misconceptions about Uttar Pradesh too. In the same chapter, he writes " a typical Indian stepping off a train, a Hindi speaking Hindu male from the Gangetic Plain state of Uttar Pradesh, might cherish the illusion that he represents the 'majority community' ..... But he does not.... Worse, our archetypical Uttar Pradesh Hindu has only to mingle with the polygot, polychrome words thronging any of India's major railway stations to realise how much of a minority he is."
People from UP are well travelled (atleast in their own country) and well educated. They understand that they share their motherland with several other people - from the Ongi tribesmen of the Andaman & Nicobar Islands to the African origin Siddi tribe of Gujarat and Maharashtra.
UP is a land of diversities, very much like India. Several distinct dialects are spoken in different regions of Uttar Pradesh. Besides, the climate and geology also differs from region to region e.g.- the Agra and Mathura (Braj) are arid and dry while the Purvanchal is humid. Besides, these two regions speak an entirely different dialect- Brajbhasha and Bhojpuri respectively. If you look at Bundelkhand, instead of 'Gangetic Plains', you will see beginning of the Deccan plateau. And until 2001, before creation of Uttarakhand, UPites also boasted of dense forests, high, snow capped mountains and gushing water falls.
Dr Tharoor, instead of boring us with your songs of Kerela, please learn about the rest of the country.
February 9, 2020
বইটি মূলত শশী থারুরের কলামসংকলন। নামেই বোঝা যাচ্ছে এটি হলো সাহিত্য সম্পর্কিত লেখালেখি নিয়ে। এই বইয়ের প্রবন্ধগুলো মোটাদাগে তিন ভাগে ভাগ করা যায়-
১. বই পড়া নিয়ে ব্যক্তিগত স্মৃতিচারণ। এখানেই এই বইয়ের শ্রেষ্ঠ লেখাগুলো আছে। বইপোকা বলতে যা বোঝায় শশী থারুর আসলে তাই। তাঁর ভাষায়,
"I read copiously, rapidly, and indiscriminately. Chronic asthma often confined me to bed, but I found so much pleasure in the books piled up by my bedside that I stopped resenting my illness. Soon reading became the central focus of my existence; there was not a day in my childhood that did not feature a book, or several."
২. নিজের লেখা নিয়ে আত্মগর্বী টাইপ কিছু প্রবন্ধ। শশী থারুর নিজেই নিজের প্রশংসা করছেন ইনিয়ে-বিনিয়ে। ভাবতেই বাজে লাগে। এই কলামগুলো ছিল সবচেয়ে বিরক্তিকর।
৩. সাহিত্য সমালোচনা ধাঁচের কলামগুলো মোটামুটি সুখপাঠ্য। এখানেও শশী থারুরের ব্যাপক সাহিত্যপাঠের পরিচয় পাওয়া যায়।
বেশিই হয়তো প্রত্যাশা ছিল। তাই হতাশ হয়েছি। যারা পড়তে চাইছেন, তারা প্রত্যাশার পারদ একটু কমসম রাখলে পড়তে পারেন। নতুবা...
১. বই পড়া নিয়ে ব্যক্তিগত স্মৃতিচারণ। এখানেই এই বইয়ের শ্রেষ্ঠ লেখাগুলো আছে। বইপোকা বলতে যা বোঝায় শশী থারুর আসলে তাই। তাঁর ভাষায়,
"I read copiously, rapidly, and indiscriminately. Chronic asthma often confined me to bed, but I found so much pleasure in the books piled up by my bedside that I stopped resenting my illness. Soon reading became the central focus of my existence; there was not a day in my childhood that did not feature a book, or several."
২. নিজের লেখা নিয়ে আত্মগর্বী টাইপ কিছু প্রবন্ধ। শশী থারুর নিজেই নিজের প্রশংসা করছেন ইনিয়ে-বিনিয়ে। ভাবতেই বাজে লাগে। এই কলামগুলো ছিল সবচেয়ে বিরক্তিকর।
৩. সাহিত্য সমালোচনা ধাঁচের কলামগুলো মোটামুটি সুখপাঠ্য। এখানেও শশী থারুরের ব্যাপক সাহিত্যপাঠের পরিচয় পাওয়া যায়।
বেশিই হয়তো প্রত্যাশা ছিল। তাই হতাশ হয়েছি। যারা পড়তে চাইছেন, তারা প্রত্যাশার পারদ একটু কমসম রাখলে পড়তে পারেন। নতুবা...
April 21, 2017
There are books, and books about books. Bookless in Baghdad is a collection of Tharoor's previously published articles about his own books and the books that made him. What 'Bookless in Baghdad' does beyond being a collection of articles is, it provides a better view of Tharoor's literary canvas. In a few articles in Part one and Part three Tharoor reviews the reviews about his books.
I can imagine Tharoor knocking the pinhead-reviewer in exasperation and clarifying: "Mahabharata's (Its) relevance to today's India is the relevance that today's Indians want to see in it. After all, the epic has, throughout the ages, been the object of adaptation, interpolation, reinterpretation and expurgation by a number of retellers, each seeking to reflect what he saw as relevant to his time (P.22)."It is not hard to miss the seeds for his latest book 'An Era of Darkness' in his various articles, where he makes a case against colonialism for appropriating the cultural definition of its subject peoples (P.25).
There is a thin line between being self adulatory and clarifying one's work for the audience and Tharoor succeeds in pitching his books to the readers. Tharoor's personal favourites Wodehouse and Rushdie receive a graceful tribute in the pages. I feel both authors have influenced Tharoor's work: Tharoor is a past master of the Wodehousian wit. His book The great Indian novel is reminiscent of Rushdie's Satanic Verses for using tropes about religion/mythology as a literary device.
Tharoor affirms that one can be patriotic and secular at the same time. In these times when patriotism is equated with jingoistic nationalism and majoritarian politics, Tharoor's book is an antidote for these tendencies and should be prescribed as a compulsory read in schools and colleges.
In his words:
"India has survived the Aryans, the Mughals, the British; it has taken from each - language, art, food, learning - and grown with all of them. To be an Indian is to be part of an elusive dream all Indians share, a dream that fills our minds with sounds, words and flavours from many sources that we cannot easily identify (P.106)."
And again:
"The suggestion that only a Hindu, and only a certain kind of Hindu, can be an authentic Indian, is an affront to the very premise of Indian nationalism...The only possible idea of India is that of a nation greater than the sum of its parts (P.106)."
The cynic in me feels this book is more like a requiem to the literary genius sacrificed at the altar of sycophantic politics of the Congress party. Why ever would such a well read, sane person want to tread the murky water of politics? Well, for that Tharoor has to definitely write another book, and I certainly look forward to reading it.
I can imagine Tharoor knocking the pinhead-reviewer in exasperation and clarifying: "Mahabharata's (Its) relevance to today's India is the relevance that today's Indians want to see in it. After all, the epic has, throughout the ages, been the object of adaptation, interpolation, reinterpretation and expurgation by a number of retellers, each seeking to reflect what he saw as relevant to his time (P.22)."It is not hard to miss the seeds for his latest book 'An Era of Darkness' in his various articles, where he makes a case against colonialism for appropriating the cultural definition of its subject peoples (P.25).
There is a thin line between being self adulatory and clarifying one's work for the audience and Tharoor succeeds in pitching his books to the readers. Tharoor's personal favourites Wodehouse and Rushdie receive a graceful tribute in the pages. I feel both authors have influenced Tharoor's work: Tharoor is a past master of the Wodehousian wit. His book The great Indian novel is reminiscent of Rushdie's Satanic Verses for using tropes about religion/mythology as a literary device.
Tharoor affirms that one can be patriotic and secular at the same time. In these times when patriotism is equated with jingoistic nationalism and majoritarian politics, Tharoor's book is an antidote for these tendencies and should be prescribed as a compulsory read in schools and colleges.
In his words:
"India has survived the Aryans, the Mughals, the British; it has taken from each - language, art, food, learning - and grown with all of them. To be an Indian is to be part of an elusive dream all Indians share, a dream that fills our minds with sounds, words and flavours from many sources that we cannot easily identify (P.106)."
And again:
"The suggestion that only a Hindu, and only a certain kind of Hindu, can be an authentic Indian, is an affront to the very premise of Indian nationalism...The only possible idea of India is that of a nation greater than the sum of its parts (P.106)."
The cynic in me feels this book is more like a requiem to the literary genius sacrificed at the altar of sycophantic politics of the Congress party. Why ever would such a well read, sane person want to tread the murky water of politics? Well, for that Tharoor has to definitely write another book, and I certainly look forward to reading it.
August 20, 2013
I loved this book . In fact I love books on books . The last one I read was the one by orhan pamuk . The English in this book is top notch . Also it's very inspiring to read that shashi tharoor has read so many books and more so 365 books in one year . I have read only his novel 'riot ' apat from this book . But I'm a big fan of the guy and may end up reading more of his books . This is a good book to get some inspiration to read even more books . The only downside : the title is totally misleading . It gives an impression of being a book on the middle east
March 17, 2018
This was the first time I read any of Shashi Tharoor's work. Something about his writing was intriguing. I loved his knowledge about various books and poems. His words on various poets and their works just proved how inspiring their words were. Such a fun read. Perfect for a travel time. Highly recommend it.
December 12, 2016
Writing, Reading, criticism, book-reviews, musings - this book is a joyride if u like Tharoor's elegance, wit and irreverence. The essays on his college St Stephen and the last essay were boring but enjoyed almost all of the rest.
November 19, 2016
Each article was not just to read, but to reflect upon and google on the facts that I was not aware of.
Thanks for the fab language used by Mr. Tharoor.
Thanks for the fab language used by Mr. Tharoor.
March 18, 2020
শশী থারুরের এই বইটা কিনেছিলাম মাদ্রাজের একটা দোকান থেকে। বাগদাদে শেহেরজাদে ও বাদশাহ শাহরিয়ার এর মূর্তি বা তৈয়ব মুতানাবির নামের রাস্তায় সেকেন্ড হ্যান্ড বইয়ের বাজার, গ্লোবাইলাইজেশন, ইন্ডিয়ার বহুত্ববাদী ঐক্য, আরো অনেক কিছুর সাথে বারে বারে আছে, ইংরেজিতে লেখা। ইন্ডিয়ার মানুষ হয়ে, ইন্ডিয়া নিয়ে ইংরেজিতে লেখা।
December 7, 2009
Shashi Tharoor, in his present role as Minister, may have come under a lot of attack for a variety of reasons. When he recently put himself up at a five star suite for months on end, because the government bungalow was not ready, many thought it was unbecoming of a public representative. I felt the same. The intellectual elitism and the accompanying lifestyle that served him well all these years while he worked for the United Nations started to stick out like a sore thumb in his role as a public servant.
Of course, that aspect needs to be kept somewhat separate from his credentials as an author.
One thing that clearly emerges from reading Bookless In Baghdad is Tharoor's acute literary bent of mind. One is aware that he has constantly stolen time from his busy schedules to write all his books – most of which have won rave reviews. But Bookless... which is a rare and exceptional collection of his literary columns over the years, doubly confirms his deep passion for books. Of course, he himself mentions it more than a dozen times, saying his literary pursuits are as important to him as his (erstwhile) role at the UN. He couldn't possibly give up or live without either. In any case, a true literary enthusiast can be sniffed out only by another – that unique breed that can't pass a bookstore without entering it. The kind who derive infinite joy discovering new words and phrases. That is certainly true of Tharoor.
Spread over 40 essays, Bookless In Baghdad offers Tharoor's excellent commentary on all matters literary. He talks about the authors he loves and dislikes, offering delightful anecdotes. He expounds on topics like literary criticism and reviewing patterns. Also, for those who have read his earlier books like Riot, Show Business and The Great Indian Novel, there's a great deal about them here, where Tharoor explains the themes he tried to tackle and even puts up a spirited defense for one of his books that was not well-reviewed in India.
One of the things to admire about Tharoor's writing, besides his immaculate language, is his ability to make a definite point at the end of every essay in the most lucid manner. And even if the book is about all his literary pursuits and interests, most of the writings are underlined by Tharoor's serious concerns on society, culture and politics.
The rest can be read here: http://sandyi.blogspot.com/2009/12/sh...
Of course, that aspect needs to be kept somewhat separate from his credentials as an author.
One thing that clearly emerges from reading Bookless In Baghdad is Tharoor's acute literary bent of mind. One is aware that he has constantly stolen time from his busy schedules to write all his books – most of which have won rave reviews. But Bookless... which is a rare and exceptional collection of his literary columns over the years, doubly confirms his deep passion for books. Of course, he himself mentions it more than a dozen times, saying his literary pursuits are as important to him as his (erstwhile) role at the UN. He couldn't possibly give up or live without either. In any case, a true literary enthusiast can be sniffed out only by another – that unique breed that can't pass a bookstore without entering it. The kind who derive infinite joy discovering new words and phrases. That is certainly true of Tharoor.
Spread over 40 essays, Bookless In Baghdad offers Tharoor's excellent commentary on all matters literary. He talks about the authors he loves and dislikes, offering delightful anecdotes. He expounds on topics like literary criticism and reviewing patterns. Also, for those who have read his earlier books like Riot, Show Business and The Great Indian Novel, there's a great deal about them here, where Tharoor explains the themes he tried to tackle and even puts up a spirited defense for one of his books that was not well-reviewed in India.
One of the things to admire about Tharoor's writing, besides his immaculate language, is his ability to make a definite point at the end of every essay in the most lucid manner. And even if the book is about all his literary pursuits and interests, most of the writings are underlined by Tharoor's serious concerns on society, culture and politics.
The rest can be read here: http://sandyi.blogspot.com/2009/12/sh...
May 8, 2019
Tharoor has done a wonderful job in compiling this collection of essays. His sentences showcase a sharp yet diplomatic tongue-in-cheek wit which mirror his career, and yet, at times defy his politics(The Critic as a Cosmetologist). I give it four stars because, at times, the prose gets redundant, opulent and disconnected from reality. However, take the externalities out of the equation and you have on your hands a wonderful meditation on the nature of reading, writing, and, of course, redundancy. (Thank you, Dr. Tharoor, I have now read about the pluralistic nature of Indian society thrice.)
~
"There is an old Indian story about Truth. It seems that in ancient times a brash young warrior sought the hand of a beautiful princess. The king, her father, thought the warrior was a bit too cocksure and callow; he told him he could only marry the princess once he had found Truth. So the young warrior set out on a quest for Truth. He went to temples and to monasteries, to mountaintops where sages meditated and to forests where ascetics scourged themselves, but nowhere could he find the truth. Despairing one day and seeking refuge from a thunderstorm, he found himself in a dank, musty cave. There, in the darkness, was an old hag, with warts on her face and matted hair, her skin hanging in folds from her bony limbs, her teeth broken, her breath malodorous. She greeted him; she seemed to know what he was looking for. They talked all night, and with each word she spoke, the warrior realized he had come to the end of his quest. She was Truth. In the morning, when the storm broke, the warrior prepared to return to claim his bride.
'Now that I have found the truth,' he said, 'what shall i tell them at the palace about you?' The wizened old crone smiled. 'Tell them,' she said, 'tell them that I am young and beautiful.' "
~
"There is an old Indian story about Truth. It seems that in ancient times a brash young warrior sought the hand of a beautiful princess. The king, her father, thought the warrior was a bit too cocksure and callow; he told him he could only marry the princess once he had found Truth. So the young warrior set out on a quest for Truth. He went to temples and to monasteries, to mountaintops where sages meditated and to forests where ascetics scourged themselves, but nowhere could he find the truth. Despairing one day and seeking refuge from a thunderstorm, he found himself in a dank, musty cave. There, in the darkness, was an old hag, with warts on her face and matted hair, her skin hanging in folds from her bony limbs, her teeth broken, her breath malodorous. She greeted him; she seemed to know what he was looking for. They talked all night, and with each word she spoke, the warrior realized he had come to the end of his quest. She was Truth. In the morning, when the storm broke, the warrior prepared to return to claim his bride.
'Now that I have found the truth,' he said, 'what shall i tell them at the palace about you?' The wizened old crone smiled. 'Tell them,' she said, 'tell them that I am young and beautiful.' "
May 12, 2019
As the cover says, this is a collection of writings on writers. I will make away with the worst of it first. Unfortunately Shashi Tharoor cones across as woefully self-absorbed in many of the pieces, especially the ones where he defends his own books. I was particularly aghast by the response he wrote to a certain critic and referred to her physique in the process, presumably but not rightfully, because of her criticism of his desi attire had wound him so. Surely he can do much better.
I am always a massive fan of metaliterature. Writing about writing is as fascinating to me as Narcissus looking at his reflection in that lake. There may be something more Freudian to it but for now we can agree that I have liked reading this book quite a lot.
Shashi Tharoor has a real penchant for words and it shines through and through. In an interesting turn of chapters, he has attempted to explain the Indian love for PG Wodehouse. I am not sure if he was able to answer the why but certainly the how has been answered. His love for Salman Rushdie is evident in the three separate pieces on or about the author, but what I am confused by is Tharoor's insistence on claiming Rushdie for India. It is somewhat contradictory and definitely unnecessary. I realize we want affinity to our idols and revel in finding similarity in taste or ethnicity but really it should stop just there.
There are incessant references to his own books (as well as other's) but all sins are wiped because there is an excellent travelogue titled Homage in Huesca where he recounts the time he went to the small village of Huesca in Spain with his wife, in a sort of homage to Orwell's Homage to Catalonia. That is indeed something to write home about.
I am always a massive fan of metaliterature. Writing about writing is as fascinating to me as Narcissus looking at his reflection in that lake. There may be something more Freudian to it but for now we can agree that I have liked reading this book quite a lot.
Shashi Tharoor has a real penchant for words and it shines through and through. In an interesting turn of chapters, he has attempted to explain the Indian love for PG Wodehouse. I am not sure if he was able to answer the why but certainly the how has been answered. His love for Salman Rushdie is evident in the three separate pieces on or about the author, but what I am confused by is Tharoor's insistence on claiming Rushdie for India. It is somewhat contradictory and definitely unnecessary. I realize we want affinity to our idols and revel in finding similarity in taste or ethnicity but really it should stop just there.
There are incessant references to his own books (as well as other's) but all sins are wiped because there is an excellent travelogue titled Homage in Huesca where he recounts the time he went to the small village of Huesca in Spain with his wife, in a sort of homage to Orwell's Homage to Catalonia. That is indeed something to write home about.
August 13, 2020
Liked the book immensely.
Tharoor's erudite responses and opinions are immensely thought engaging. Most of his writings here are previously published material, however this eclectic collection reads far better together. I liked Poets of Protocol a tad more than other pieces in the books. His insightful discussion of poets from across the world and what seems to connect them, is quite interesting. And so are his ruminations along the Al Mutanabbi street in Baghdad relating to war and leisure and poverty.
On the whole this is indeed a great book to spend some time thinking, because it will make you think.
Tharoor's erudite responses and opinions are immensely thought engaging. Most of his writings here are previously published material, however this eclectic collection reads far better together. I liked Poets of Protocol a tad more than other pieces in the books. His insightful discussion of poets from across the world and what seems to connect them, is quite interesting. And so are his ruminations along the Al Mutanabbi street in Baghdad relating to war and leisure and poverty.
On the whole this is indeed a great book to spend some time thinking, because it will make you think.
December 22, 2015
I don't understand why are there a handful of reviews for this great book.
Yeah, actually, it's a one of the best books by Shashi Tharoor.
Through this book, he has sighted on the literary, writing style of famous Indian writers, who offered a great literature to Indian readers.
I could not imagine myself bookless at home or anywhere I go, if it's going to happen ever then it would be same like that of happened to Shashi Tharoor.
The book is a must read and will give you a perspective on the Indian literary legends.
For more review follow BookRature Blog.
Yeah, actually, it's a one of the best books by Shashi Tharoor.
Through this book, he has sighted on the literary, writing style of famous Indian writers, who offered a great literature to Indian readers.
I could not imagine myself bookless at home or anywhere I go, if it's going to happen ever then it would be same like that of happened to Shashi Tharoor.
The book is a must read and will give you a perspective on the Indian literary legends.
For more review follow BookRature Blog.
November 1, 2013
A fine collection of essays & columns by Tharoor that deal with subjects ranging from the development of his reading habits as a kid, literature, his literary influences, book reviews & reviewers, the writers he loves & hates, anecdotes about fellow writers to his career as a UN diplomat, global issues such as terrorism, globalization & how literature might prove effective in atleast partially solving them.
Not to be missed if you're a fan of the author.
Not to be missed if you're a fan of the author.
June 15, 2010
Tharoor is always readable, whether for his articles, or for his non fiction, especially in The Great Indian Novel. These pieces have appeared elsewhere earlier, nevertheless are worth reding again. In this edition one comes to know a bit more about Tharoor the person with the small revelations he makes about his personal life to emphasize a point.
January 25, 2013
A bit self indulgent, nevertheless a nice book. Looking forward to read his novels.
April 18, 2013
A pretty good and fast read for a short journey of 3-4 hours.
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