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The Coral Strand
From English winters to Indian summers. From the cold streets of modern Britain to the glamorous, turbulent and impassioned world of 1940’s Mumbai.
Each year, Sita makes a mysterious journey to the Mausoleum, the place of dark memories and warped beginnings. She goes to spy on Emily and Champa, the strange ‘guardians’ she once escaped, and on whom she had taken a daring revenge. This year proves to be fatefully different... This year, the terrible secrets of the past are starting to emerge; secrets that inexorably link the three women to each other, to the grey-eyed stranger Kala, and to an altogether different world – the glittering, violent and passionate world of 1940’s Mumbai.
Ravinder Randhawa's women, caught in a desperate fight for survival, cross taboos and forbidden lines in this richly plotted novel, imbued with fascinating historical detail, and the beauties of place and period. Readers of modern and historical novels alike will enjoy Randhawa's evocative portrait of the compelling relationship between Britain and India, which continues to enthrall and engage us.
Each year, Sita makes a mysterious journey to the Mausoleum, the place of dark memories and warped beginnings. She goes to spy on Emily and Champa, the strange ‘guardians’ she once escaped, and on whom she had taken a daring revenge. This year proves to be fatefully different... This year, the terrible secrets of the past are starting to emerge; secrets that inexorably link the three women to each other, to the grey-eyed stranger Kala, and to an altogether different world – the glittering, violent and passionate world of 1940’s Mumbai.
Ravinder Randhawa's women, caught in a desperate fight for survival, cross taboos and forbidden lines in this richly plotted novel, imbued with fascinating historical detail, and the beauties of place and period. Readers of modern and historical novels alike will enjoy Randhawa's evocative portrait of the compelling relationship between Britain and India, which continues to enthrall and engage us.
328 pages, Paperback
First published July 1, 2001
5 people want to read
About the author
Ravinder Randhawa
8 books5 followersRavinder was born in India, grew up in England, and lives in London. Loves books, great coffee and is a Shakespeare groupie.
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
May 27, 2016
The blurb made this book sound so intriguing: a tale spanning British India and 1990s London; a runaway teen of unknown heritage; a cache of lost - or stolen -jewels; mysterious goings on in a house called The Mausoleum - I was so excited when I first turned the page, but from the off, it was like wading through mud. It is not just that it is densely written but it is (I’m really sorry to judge any novel so harshly but I feel it is true) very badly written. The story darts about through time and space, and it is so jerky and so clumsily done; I felt like a puppet snatched from one side of the stage to another till my head spun. Every part of the tale is drawn out to an insane and tiresome degree, with constant allusions to Some Great Mystery that one waits forever – literally hundreds of pages – to have (finally!) explained, but the long-awaited dénouement is simply ridiculous; absolutely not worth the bother of wading through the tedium of 300 plus pages to reach (was it really only 312 pages long? It felt a lot longer).
But even worse than the dreary telling of the story is the dialogue, which is bizarre and excruciating. Every time anyone opens their mouth, we get a string of entirely unconnected phrases and sentences, an outpouring of non-sequiturs that MAKE NO SENSE. None of it feels real; people simply do not talk to each other in this way outside of dreams (or nightmares). I started reading this book when I was having trouble sleeping and I wondered if it was just me, if the lack of sleep had turned my brain to cheese and that was why I couldn’t follow anything; why absolutely nothing I was reading made any sense. Then my sleep improved, but the book did not.
Is it a deliberate attempt at a style? If so, it doesn’t work, not for me. All attempts to get through this book left me confused, irritated, bemused and finally quite angry. The whole story is horribly over-written. Has it been edited at all? It reads like a poor first draft that needs a really, really dramatic edit and then a complete re-write, cover to cover.
The only good thing in it are the Indian passages featuring Emily; they are rather good. Emily is the best-drawn character in it and her Indian chapters are readable (the only ones that are) and genuinely engaging. They always left me wanting more – but then I would be instantly plunged back into the boredom of Sita and London and… meh.
I genuinely hate to trash a book like this. I know only too well how hard writing is and this lengthy book must have taken a very great deal of writing. I’m sure there is a good book lurking here: the idea is good and there is some interesting writing - but (my opinion only, of course), the thing as a whole requires an epic and vicious edit and a massive re-write before I would attempt to read it again.
But even worse than the dreary telling of the story is the dialogue, which is bizarre and excruciating. Every time anyone opens their mouth, we get a string of entirely unconnected phrases and sentences, an outpouring of non-sequiturs that MAKE NO SENSE. None of it feels real; people simply do not talk to each other in this way outside of dreams (or nightmares). I started reading this book when I was having trouble sleeping and I wondered if it was just me, if the lack of sleep had turned my brain to cheese and that was why I couldn’t follow anything; why absolutely nothing I was reading made any sense. Then my sleep improved, but the book did not.
Is it a deliberate attempt at a style? If so, it doesn’t work, not for me. All attempts to get through this book left me confused, irritated, bemused and finally quite angry. The whole story is horribly over-written. Has it been edited at all? It reads like a poor first draft that needs a really, really dramatic edit and then a complete re-write, cover to cover.
The only good thing in it are the Indian passages featuring Emily; they are rather good. Emily is the best-drawn character in it and her Indian chapters are readable (the only ones that are) and genuinely engaging. They always left me wanting more – but then I would be instantly plunged back into the boredom of Sita and London and… meh.
I genuinely hate to trash a book like this. I know only too well how hard writing is and this lengthy book must have taken a very great deal of writing. I’m sure there is a good book lurking here: the idea is good and there is some interesting writing - but (my opinion only, of course), the thing as a whole requires an epic and vicious edit and a massive re-write before I would attempt to read it again.
March 23, 2016
I feel a bit guilty for what I'm about to say, because I'm sure the author tried very hard, but everything about this book is terrible. The writing (especially the dialogue; conversations mostly consist of one non-sequitur after another), the plot (which is incomprehensible at first and then just dumb and unrealistic – I'm trying to avoid spoilers, but a major revelation involves a character having been tortured in a hidden room for fifty years which is just ridiculous), the characters (who generally make no sense and are prone to abrupt shifts in personality), and the themes (which are somehow both pounded like anvils - the book must repeat five hundred times that it's set in 1997, which is EXACTLY 50 years after India's independence, do you get it? 50 YEARS? INDEPENDENCE? - and still meaningless, since I have no idea what the author was trying to say with all of this).
Anyway. Sita is a British Indian woman in 1997 (FIFTY YEARS AFTER INDEPENDENCE, IN CASE YOU FORGOT), who had some sort of terrible childhood that she ran away from years ago. The Coral Strand makes you wait a long time before revealing exactly what happened in that childhood, in that weird trope literary fiction occasionally indulges in, where all the characters know whatever it was that happened, but the reader must piece it together gradually from small clues. I don't actually mind this trope, as long as it's done well, but in a surprising twist, The Coral Strand does not do it well. Sita was raised by Emily and Champa, neither of whom are her mother, and who seem to be in possession of a surprising amount of wealth. Eventually Sita meets Kala, who reveals that FIFTY YEARS AGO their families were dramatically entangled. Unfortunately neither of them knows the whole story, so they must persuade Emily, Champa, and the missing mother to give up the secrets of their past. Such Indian Symbolism 101 names here too: Sita, the goddess betrayed and abandoned in the wilderness; Kala, "black", the downfallen grandson of Gopal the Golden.
But none of this probably would have been so bad if it weren't for the writing itself. I don't know how to describe exactly what's so awful about it, so here, have a sample:
‘Afraid? No fear. Not me,’ chanting her early morning litany into the tiny mirror that only has space for a fragment of her face – Sita’s daily dose of Dutch courage.
Sita, the woman who used to have two names; the woman who’d cut them in half and burnt her boats. Sita the Ferret was what she used to be: Sita from Champa, Ferret from Emily. She’d joined them up and would murmur them to herself in a jagged symphony: Sita/Ferret-Sita/Ferret. Syllables of the self. Which she’d guillotined! Cut and separated when she ran. Shearing off the Ferret in the house and taking the Sita: normal, well-known, and best of all, anonymous.
Taking the bottle of Old Spice from the shelf, she removes the top and dabs drops onto her clothes, wrists, the base of her neck; breathing in deeply, inhaling the pungent, spicy scents.
THOSE ARE THE OPENING LINES. I would have stopped reading right there, if I hadn't agreed to write of review of this dumb book.
Because I had to suffer through this whole thing, have some more. This is Sita and Kala flirting (I suppose? This conversation somehow leads into their having sex eventually) after their first meeting:
‘Um, I wondered, if I asked you, would you have dinner with me?’
She glared at him, ‘If you were to ask me,’ voice sharp and cutting, ‘then I would remind you of the line, “Fain would I fly, but fearest to fall”.’
‘Very Elizabethan,’ he laughed, ‘you can’t get me on that one. “If thou fearest to fall, then fly not at all.’’ Were you as diligent a student as a worker?’
‘Diligence or death. Story of my life.’
A pause. He was gathering himself to say something. ‘I was sorry to hear about the death of your husband.’ Lies that come back to haunt. Hers, not his, had been the first. She’d made it up, trying to tie knots around holes, to give herself a background, so she could fit in, to make them think that she was one of them. Camouflage, a common enough device employed by Asian women living in the West who had to hip-hop between cultures.
‘It was an accident,’ she replied, looking away. Guilt for murder, even as a fiction, and guilt at her falsehoods.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
Dark streets sped by. Lamps shone like lighthouses through the muffled rain. She’d bathed her face in the rain this morning, lifted it and seen the order of her old world turned around.
He broke the silence, startling her and taking their conversation backwards, ‘So you won’t have dinner with me?’
Did he always use a circuitous route? ‘You haven’t asked me. Remember!’
‘Couldn’t take the risk of a rejection.’
He was looking straight ahead, as a good driver should, so she couldn’t examine his face and see where that lie of a line was coming from. ‘You’re so funny. Funny I forgot to laugh,’ using the sarcasm picked up from her landlady’s daughters. But theirs didn’t contain the bitter undertone of hers. He probably didn’t know what the word ‘rejection,’ meant. ‘But if you had asked, conditional tense, then the answer would have been, past future tense, “no”.’
‘Excellent,’ he said, grinning at the look on her face, ‘present tense.’
‘So glad you’re pleased. That’s the sod-off tense.’
‘Next time, you ask me.’
‘Sure. You play safe. I take the risks. Does Poonum know about your extra-curricular activities?’
‘What extra-curricular activities?’ he asked. Quite true. He hadn’t made a single improper suggestion. Then he pulled over, stopped and turned off the engine. She shifted in her seat towards the door. ‘I haven’t made any promises to Poonum.’
NO ONE TALKS LIKE THAT. IT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE.
In summation: don't read this book. It sucks, and not even in the way that leads to amusing one-star reviews.
I read this as an ARC via NetGalley.
Anyway. Sita is a British Indian woman in 1997 (FIFTY YEARS AFTER INDEPENDENCE, IN CASE YOU FORGOT), who had some sort of terrible childhood that she ran away from years ago. The Coral Strand makes you wait a long time before revealing exactly what happened in that childhood, in that weird trope literary fiction occasionally indulges in, where all the characters know whatever it was that happened, but the reader must piece it together gradually from small clues. I don't actually mind this trope, as long as it's done well, but in a surprising twist, The Coral Strand does not do it well. Sita was raised by Emily and Champa, neither of whom are her mother, and who seem to be in possession of a surprising amount of wealth. Eventually Sita meets Kala, who reveals that FIFTY YEARS AGO their families were dramatically entangled. Unfortunately neither of them knows the whole story, so they must persuade Emily, Champa, and the missing mother to give up the secrets of their past. Such Indian Symbolism 101 names here too: Sita, the goddess betrayed and abandoned in the wilderness; Kala, "black", the downfallen grandson of Gopal the Golden.
But none of this probably would have been so bad if it weren't for the writing itself. I don't know how to describe exactly what's so awful about it, so here, have a sample:
‘Afraid? No fear. Not me,’ chanting her early morning litany into the tiny mirror that only has space for a fragment of her face – Sita’s daily dose of Dutch courage.
Sita, the woman who used to have two names; the woman who’d cut them in half and burnt her boats. Sita the Ferret was what she used to be: Sita from Champa, Ferret from Emily. She’d joined them up and would murmur them to herself in a jagged symphony: Sita/Ferret-Sita/Ferret. Syllables of the self. Which she’d guillotined! Cut and separated when she ran. Shearing off the Ferret in the house and taking the Sita: normal, well-known, and best of all, anonymous.
Taking the bottle of Old Spice from the shelf, she removes the top and dabs drops onto her clothes, wrists, the base of her neck; breathing in deeply, inhaling the pungent, spicy scents.
THOSE ARE THE OPENING LINES. I would have stopped reading right there, if I hadn't agreed to write of review of this dumb book.
Because I had to suffer through this whole thing, have some more. This is Sita and Kala flirting (I suppose? This conversation somehow leads into their having sex eventually) after their first meeting:
‘Um, I wondered, if I asked you, would you have dinner with me?’
She glared at him, ‘If you were to ask me,’ voice sharp and cutting, ‘then I would remind you of the line, “Fain would I fly, but fearest to fall”.’
‘Very Elizabethan,’ he laughed, ‘you can’t get me on that one. “If thou fearest to fall, then fly not at all.’’ Were you as diligent a student as a worker?’
‘Diligence or death. Story of my life.’
A pause. He was gathering himself to say something. ‘I was sorry to hear about the death of your husband.’ Lies that come back to haunt. Hers, not his, had been the first. She’d made it up, trying to tie knots around holes, to give herself a background, so she could fit in, to make them think that she was one of them. Camouflage, a common enough device employed by Asian women living in the West who had to hip-hop between cultures.
‘It was an accident,’ she replied, looking away. Guilt for murder, even as a fiction, and guilt at her falsehoods.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
Dark streets sped by. Lamps shone like lighthouses through the muffled rain. She’d bathed her face in the rain this morning, lifted it and seen the order of her old world turned around.
He broke the silence, startling her and taking their conversation backwards, ‘So you won’t have dinner with me?’
Did he always use a circuitous route? ‘You haven’t asked me. Remember!’
‘Couldn’t take the risk of a rejection.’
He was looking straight ahead, as a good driver should, so she couldn’t examine his face and see where that lie of a line was coming from. ‘You’re so funny. Funny I forgot to laugh,’ using the sarcasm picked up from her landlady’s daughters. But theirs didn’t contain the bitter undertone of hers. He probably didn’t know what the word ‘rejection,’ meant. ‘But if you had asked, conditional tense, then the answer would have been, past future tense, “no”.’
‘Excellent,’ he said, grinning at the look on her face, ‘present tense.’
‘So glad you’re pleased. That’s the sod-off tense.’
‘Next time, you ask me.’
‘Sure. You play safe. I take the risks. Does Poonum know about your extra-curricular activities?’
‘What extra-curricular activities?’ he asked. Quite true. He hadn’t made a single improper suggestion. Then he pulled over, stopped and turned off the engine. She shifted in her seat towards the door. ‘I haven’t made any promises to Poonum.’
NO ONE TALKS LIKE THAT. IT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE.
In summation: don't read this book. It sucks, and not even in the way that leads to amusing one-star reviews.
I read this as an ARC via NetGalley.
March 1, 2016
Three and a half stars from me!
I first came upon Ravinder Randhawa's writing when a blogger friend Faye, from A Daydreamer's Thoughts (who is also a freelance PR) asked me if I would be interested in reading her book A Wicked Old Woman - check out my thoughts on the book HERE. Now one of Ravinder's other titles, The Coral Strand has recently been released here in the UK by Troubador Publishing and I was delighted to receive a copy in the post so that I could compare and contrast the two. Many thanks to all involved! Like the author's previous novel, A Coral Strand hosts a variety of different characters both of Indian and British descent or a mixture of the two and there are a couple of different story-lines going on that although I found it difficult to follow at the beginning, merged together quite satisfyingly by the end of the novel.
My favourite thing about this book however, was that it was set across two different timelines. The first is in England, more specifically London in the late nineties where we follow a young woman called Sita as she desperately tries to put the dizzying puzzle pieces of her family together so that they make some sort of sense and so she can finally have a sense of belonging which she has lacked for much of her early life. It's all a bit vague to begin with, the details are hazy and to be honest, the reader feels as much in the dark as Sita herself as she wonders over her strange peculiarities of a family. She is raised in a household with two very strong female characters, Emily and Champa, (who she amusingly refers to as The Mutant Memsahib and Champa Dumpa) neither of which are her mother. I don't really want to give too much away about the plot but Sita ends up running away from the house or "The Mausoleum," as she refers to it with arm-loads of expensive jewellery which in fact, end up being the solution to the mystery of where she comes from.
The second timeline and the one I enjoyed most is set some years earlier in 1935-1942 Bombay, now Mumbai, India and it focuses on Emily Miller, a recently married woman who has moved to India with her husband Thomas who is based over there. After leaving a dead-end job in a factory and being promised the world or if not the world, at least a palace to live in with servants at her beck and call, Emily is ecstatic about her new higher standing but she seems to have been grossly misinformed about her lot in life as shortly after they are married, Thomas is killed in suspicious circumstances. With barely a penny to her name and a reputation to uphold, Emily must use every bit of fight in her to create a lavish lifestyle to which she has already become accustomed and believes she deserves.
However, in creating "The English Rose Garden," with Champa (her husband's favourite "lady of the night") and her servant known only as Girl, she also invites some rather sinister creatures to share her bed (yes, quite literally!). When all hell breaks loose, Emily, Champa and Girl are forced to flee back to the safe waters of England where Emily is determined to maintain her extravagant, lady of leisure position, something which she finds quite difficult as she struggles with the behaviour and actions of Girl and in recent years, Sita and has to face up to a past that comes back to haunt her.
This all may seem a little complicated and it was confusing for me also at first, especially when a number of minor characters are added into the mixture that provide further secrets and hardship for all concerned in a convoluted plot that takes a while to get to grips with. I didn't really have a favourite character as such - they were all flawed in some way but this did make them ultimately more interesting and I enjoyed the whole process of trying to figure them out. I did find myself feeling quite sorry for all of them in different ways, especially Girl and Sita who did not seem to have much choice in their own situations or control over their own fate until they both admirably begin enforcing their own independence and rebelling against the tyrannical Emily. If I had to compare it with A Wicked Old Woman, I would probably say I enjoyed this story more, it seemed to have characters that were more readable and in general, a plot that was more structured with a definitive ending. Personally, I feel that the author has really found her voice and a great style with this novel and I wouldn't hesitate to read another one from her.
The Coral Strand was released on 28th February 2016 by Troubadour Publishing. Many thanks to them and to Faye Rogers for allowing me to read a copy in exchange for an honest review.
For my full review and for many others please see my blog at http://www.bibliobeth.com
I first came upon Ravinder Randhawa's writing when a blogger friend Faye, from A Daydreamer's Thoughts (who is also a freelance PR) asked me if I would be interested in reading her book A Wicked Old Woman - check out my thoughts on the book HERE. Now one of Ravinder's other titles, The Coral Strand has recently been released here in the UK by Troubador Publishing and I was delighted to receive a copy in the post so that I could compare and contrast the two. Many thanks to all involved! Like the author's previous novel, A Coral Strand hosts a variety of different characters both of Indian and British descent or a mixture of the two and there are a couple of different story-lines going on that although I found it difficult to follow at the beginning, merged together quite satisfyingly by the end of the novel.
My favourite thing about this book however, was that it was set across two different timelines. The first is in England, more specifically London in the late nineties where we follow a young woman called Sita as she desperately tries to put the dizzying puzzle pieces of her family together so that they make some sort of sense and so she can finally have a sense of belonging which she has lacked for much of her early life. It's all a bit vague to begin with, the details are hazy and to be honest, the reader feels as much in the dark as Sita herself as she wonders over her strange peculiarities of a family. She is raised in a household with two very strong female characters, Emily and Champa, (who she amusingly refers to as The Mutant Memsahib and Champa Dumpa) neither of which are her mother. I don't really want to give too much away about the plot but Sita ends up running away from the house or "The Mausoleum," as she refers to it with arm-loads of expensive jewellery which in fact, end up being the solution to the mystery of where she comes from.
The second timeline and the one I enjoyed most is set some years earlier in 1935-1942 Bombay, now Mumbai, India and it focuses on Emily Miller, a recently married woman who has moved to India with her husband Thomas who is based over there. After leaving a dead-end job in a factory and being promised the world or if not the world, at least a palace to live in with servants at her beck and call, Emily is ecstatic about her new higher standing but she seems to have been grossly misinformed about her lot in life as shortly after they are married, Thomas is killed in suspicious circumstances. With barely a penny to her name and a reputation to uphold, Emily must use every bit of fight in her to create a lavish lifestyle to which she has already become accustomed and believes she deserves.
However, in creating "The English Rose Garden," with Champa (her husband's favourite "lady of the night") and her servant known only as Girl, she also invites some rather sinister creatures to share her bed (yes, quite literally!). When all hell breaks loose, Emily, Champa and Girl are forced to flee back to the safe waters of England where Emily is determined to maintain her extravagant, lady of leisure position, something which she finds quite difficult as she struggles with the behaviour and actions of Girl and in recent years, Sita and has to face up to a past that comes back to haunt her.
This all may seem a little complicated and it was confusing for me also at first, especially when a number of minor characters are added into the mixture that provide further secrets and hardship for all concerned in a convoluted plot that takes a while to get to grips with. I didn't really have a favourite character as such - they were all flawed in some way but this did make them ultimately more interesting and I enjoyed the whole process of trying to figure them out. I did find myself feeling quite sorry for all of them in different ways, especially Girl and Sita who did not seem to have much choice in their own situations or control over their own fate until they both admirably begin enforcing their own independence and rebelling against the tyrannical Emily. If I had to compare it with A Wicked Old Woman, I would probably say I enjoyed this story more, it seemed to have characters that were more readable and in general, a plot that was more structured with a definitive ending. Personally, I feel that the author has really found her voice and a great style with this novel and I wouldn't hesitate to read another one from her.
The Coral Strand was released on 28th February 2016 by Troubadour Publishing. Many thanks to them and to Faye Rogers for allowing me to read a copy in exchange for an honest review.
For my full review and for many others please see my blog at http://www.bibliobeth.com
April 8, 2018
I absolutely loved this book, even though I’ve struggled a little with some of the author’s other work.
The Coral Strand has a densely intertwined plot, set both in modern day London and India just before independence. The female characters are strongly written, I enjoyed Sita’s story but I particularly loved how you come to see Emily as such a complicated character, not just a simple villain.
The work is obviously deeply involved in questions of colonialism and immigration, but I also really enjoyed the way it delved into class.
A fascinating read with a great plot and a clever twist at the end!
The Coral Strand has a densely intertwined plot, set both in modern day London and India just before independence. The female characters are strongly written, I enjoyed Sita’s story but I particularly loved how you come to see Emily as such a complicated character, not just a simple villain.
The work is obviously deeply involved in questions of colonialism and immigration, but I also really enjoyed the way it delved into class.
A fascinating read with a great plot and a clever twist at the end!
June 15, 2016
1990s London- the place of my childhood- meets 1940s India in a very well-written historical novel. As these two very different periods in history are explored through the eyes of strong, independent female protagonists, secrets are spilled and revealed.
There is something in this novel for every reader, whether British, Asian or both. Every reader will go back in time with Sita, Champa and Emily and every reader, from the children of 1997 to the children of 1940, will find something they recognise and be reminded of a time they loved.
Most of all, this is a story of secrets. A story of how secrets, created in the past, shape the present and the future. A story of how secrets affect lives.
It is a beautiful book from front cover to last word.
There is something in this novel for every reader, whether British, Asian or both. Every reader will go back in time with Sita, Champa and Emily and every reader, from the children of 1997 to the children of 1940, will find something they recognise and be reminded of a time they loved.
Most of all, this is a story of secrets. A story of how secrets, created in the past, shape the present and the future. A story of how secrets affect lives.
It is a beautiful book from front cover to last word.
March 25, 2016
The Coral Strand flits back and forth between Thatcher's Britain and 1940's Mumbai following the history of 4 very different but determined women and their intertwined lives.
It was a very interesting novel, i personally think more could have been made of the character known as The Girl however all in all it was a worthwhile read.
Thanks to the publisher for the ARC.
It was a very interesting novel, i personally think more could have been made of the character known as The Girl however all in all it was a worthwhile read.
Thanks to the publisher for the ARC.
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews