The Sting of Peppercorns

by Antonio Gomes

A novel set in colonial Goa, a region on the west coast of India ruled by the Portuguese till 1961. It's May 1961, and in the village of Loutolim in Portuguese Goa, Dona Isabella prepares for the unexpected return of her eldest and favourite son Paulo, who is studying law in Coimbra, Portugal. On the very day of his return to Goa, Paulo barely escapes execution by a group of masked guerrillas seeking the overthrow of the colonial Portuguese regime. Paulo's life, and that of his rich and traditional Brahmin family, takes a tragic turn with the military takeover of Goa by India after 451 years of Portuguese rule. The integration of Goa into India disentangles the socio-economic foundation of the Albuquerque family. Paulo's sister falls in love with a man of lower caste. Dona Isabella laments the loss of her culture and the unraveling of her children's lives. Haunted by nightmares, and daydreaming of his return to Portugal, Paulo takes to drinking, drugs, and sex orgies on the Baga beach with the hippies. This brilliantly-crafted story unfolds like a canvas, suffused with a profound sensibility, and a sense of foreboding. In *The Sting of Peppercorns*, Gomes takes on history, love, death, the conflicts of assimilation, and the cultural mores of a people -- the people of his native Goa.

Genres: Fiction, India

266 pages, Paperback

First published January 30, 2010

Reviews

[Bob Newman]

Saudades

I’ve spent a lot of time in Goa over many decades and a lot of energy studying and writing articles and books, giving lectures and thinking about that small formerly-Portuguese territory, now a state in India, the smallest one. I’ve grown older and I don’t think there’s any more “fuel” in the “research tank”, but I’m full of Goan memories and saudades for my friends who are gone, for the life I lived there, for those days gone by.
This novel was such a pleasure to read because it brought back the scenes that I remember so well, and also the events that I knew had occurred, but I did not see myself. The atmosphere and events of the Indian takeover of the Portuguese colony in December, 1961 are described in excellent fashion. The contrasting emotions of people in the same family at that time are very realistic. Goa became a top destination on the hippie trail back in the late 1960s, whether those flower-children involved with drugs were all American as portrayed here is dubious, but maybe I saw them at a later stage. In 1965, I didn't see a single hippie of any nationality. From 1978 on, most were Europeans.
The novel is a family saga told in two timeframes: one in 1988 and one that stretches from 1961 to 1967. There are ups and downs, various skeletons in certain closets are revealed, things in an upper class Goan Catholic family are not what they seem at first. The main character is the son of that family who became a doctor in America. A couple other reviews on Goodreads give the outline of the story so I won't repeat it.
I went many times to the Jesuit Retreat House at Baga, to various beaches, villages, churches, and other places that feature in the story—the church of Bom Jesus in Old Goa, the church of Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception in Panjim, the village of Loutolim, the towns of Panjim, Margao and Mapuça—the delicious Goan food, the music and more. I even spent time in Coimbra and Lisboa in Portugal where one brother studies and takes some fatal actions. The author himself admits that he changed a few things around, but overall, within the story, he paints a picture of life for a certain class, for those who owned land and beautiful houses. Antonio Gomes—may not be Balzac, Tolstoy or Eça de Queiroz—OK but if you love Goa, you’ll like this novel. If you’ve never been there, but would like to know what it was like before Maha-Tourism hit (over 7 million Indian tourists in 2022, 430,000 foreigners the next year—when I first saw Goa in 1965, the foreign tourists perhaps amounted to a couple hundred a year and Indian tourists were zero) and waves of outsiders decided to settle there, this will give you a picture. If it’s not the only possible picture—tell me what book ever offers the total picture?
I’m not giving this book any stars because some years ago I met the author and he signed my copy. Looking gift horses in the mouth is not my favorite game. Just read it.

June 27, 2024

[Sonia Gomes · Rating 3 out of 5]

What relief! António Gomes seems to have strayed away from themes much favoured by writers of Indo-Portuguese literature.
He ignores the much approved devdasis, temple girls or muscular sadhus godmen with luxuriant moustaches reclining on tiger skins.
He abhors, the batkar-shetkar, landowner-farmer theme, with hunger, poverty thrown in.
Just when I thought he really was veering as far away from the much abused themes, he goes for the jugular, Gomes just could not resist it, the favourite of all the themes sought by Indo-Portuguese writers, the inter caste marriage.

António Gomes writes about a landowning Catholic Brahmin family from Loutolim in Salcete, Goa.
Set a little before the Liberation of Goa in 1961 and ending just a little after the Opinion Poll in 1967, the book, chronicles the journey of the Albuquerque Family savouring their joys and sorrows, learning from their mistakes, and enduring the repercussions.
But Roberto the youngest son of the Family and the narrator of the story, remembers those heady days when the hippies found magical Goa.

Paulo, the oldest son of the family, returns to Goa when he is unable to complete his Degree in Law from the prestigious University of Coimbra, but that’s hardly uncommon, in fact a pretty familiar story for the many young men from the ‘Boas Famílias Landed Gentry' who moved to Coimbra to obtain a Degree in Law, bleeding their parents dry.

Some did extremely well but a great number whiled away their lives, spending their parent’s hard earned money in bars and on prostitutes.

And the Law degree? Always somewhere out there, always to be completed...carpe diem.
Most stayed as paying guests with middle aged Portuguese landladies, who strapped for cash, took in students to supplement their meagre incomes. These little educated landladies doted on their paying guests, who in turn abused their hospitality.

Life for some of these aspiring lawyers was a never ending carousel of fun until the loan sharks caught up with them, as they did with Paulo.

You get a catch in your throat when António Gomes describes the dinner to 'welcome' Paulo back from Portugal, a typical mix of Goan and Portuguese food and wines, Dona Isabel’s artistic flower arrangements and the soiree... for music was the soul of the family.
And Paulo? Lording over the festivities... the Degree in Law? Never pulled off and now forgotten, relegated to some loft where old furniture and copper vessels rubbed shoulders.

Amanda, the daughter of the Albuquerque family falls in love with Winnie a college professor, the eternal trajectory taken by writers of Indo-Portuguese literature, rich girl from landed Brahmin Family falling in love with poor, but highly educated man of a lower class.

Tears, recriminations, threats follow but here António Gomes gives it a macabre twist...
Amanda a highly neurotic woman, head full of romantic stories, does marry Winnie, an emaciated Winnie practically on his death bed, makes love to him and in the manner of most romantic heroines tries to commit suicide, although saved in the nick of time.

You see both Amanda and Maria, Roberto's wife, have been brought up as fragile hothouse flowers, nurtured on romantic stories. Their dreams? Beautiful clothes and serenades.
Life after marriage would be an eternal circle of balls and parties; here they would dance the night away in the arms of their beloved, now husband, to be envied by the less fortunate ones..
And what’s so bad about it? Their Mothers as well as Grandmothers had seen such lives.

But horror strikes, they who had rushed to Europe or the US as proud wives, how drab everything turns out to be, harsh reality strikes hard.
Entertainment? Well, where was the money?
The time? Husbands perpetually studying or working at their new job.
No maids? Who is going to do the cooking?
‘You never told me there were no maids...?’
‘There are but we don’t have the money, you could work...’
Would they want to take up the challenge of improving their lives? Learn to cook? Sew? Gardening? Or work in an office? Not a chance...

Such longing for Goa, the chatter, the gossip, the clothes, the maids at their beck and call...
Totally depressed ... long holidays back home... mothers and ayahs to their rescue, shielding the ‘delicate’ daughter so far away from home.
Divorce? The possibility arises...

Roberto, nobody thought of him as something of a genius, just an ordinary hardworking boy, mediocre they called him, not to be confused with Paulo the Genius, Paulo the Mother’s pet.

But sometimes surprises spring from nowhere. He achieves much, just by dint of sheer hard work.
He is no angel, he has his whisky-sodas, he mixes with the hippie crowd in Baga and Anjuna, samples drugs, experiences the highs and lows of hash, has his liaisons but unlike his wayward brother keeps his wits about and graduates a brilliant Doctor.

Observations of Sonia do Rosario Gomes

The higher caste Brahmins and Chardos owned vast estates of coconut plantations and massive fields where rice was cultivated.
The earnings were very substantial for the Landowners to build huge ‘Portuguese style’ houses, and with their penchant for everything and anything European bought vast quantities of crockery, particularly the blue and white china, called the ‘Macau’ for it was manufactured in Macau, a colony of the Portuguese, the finest furniture was made with local carpenters, not to forget the crystal chandeliers.
In short the ‘Portuguese style’ houses looked Goan but felt Portuguese, Portuguese was spoken at home, studied in schools and Lyceum.

People ate a mixture of Portuguese and Goan foods. Of course there were lapses, you could not use cutlery for xec-xec a crab preparation, now could you?
You got your fingers messy but so what? Xec-xec is delicious.
Or you could not suck a chupadeira sucking mango without getting your mouth or hands really messy.
They tried, they did. Sheer nylon stockings and synthetic suits for weddings and funerals in the heat of May were de rigueur.
Yes, everyone tried very hard to emulate the colonisers.
And then Goa was liberated or some would call it ‘invaded’ even going to Court to prove that they would remain Portuguese citizens till their death, for they had been ‘illegally and unlawfully invaded’ and the invaders were these Indians who did not know much about ‘Culture’...

Goa was now a Democracy and Salazar did not mean a thing.
Oh the Joy of it, you could go quite close to the village Church and shout out loudly...
‘Salazar você e um filho da puta’ and no police in shorts rushed to apprehend you...nor were you tortured for hours.
And there were schools for everyone, rich or poor, Brahmin or not.

Things were looking good... but these wonderful winds of freedom were treacherous, the erstwhile colonised were reminded of the saying ‘Alegria do pobre dura pouco’ ‘All good things must come to an end’

Democracy needs voters and to placate the masses two new laws were enacted; The Mundkar Act and the Land to the tiller Act.
Overnight the ‘mundkars’ up in arms, could and were encouraged to buy their own plot of land. Large tracts of coconut groves were sold at rock bottom prices to the Mundkars.

But it was the ‘Land to the tiller Act’ that was the downfall of the Landowners, without any warning, the Landowners were deprived of their source of income, any tract of land cultivated by a tenant, be it coconut, paddy and cashew now belonged to the Tiller.
The Landowners lost the fields as well as cashew groves to the Tiller. Now there was hardly any money to look after those majestic ‘Portuguese style Goan houses’
People went to Gulf or just abandoned their houses...

The scariest aspect however was/is that of the stately mansions, that went/will go the way of Roberto’s house, with only an old retainer, a trembling Carmina to take care of them...
Most probably yes, until the Real Estate sharks, who are the only ‘people’ who cherish the Portuguese style Goan houses’

[Sarmistha · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ratings: 3.5/5

A fragile human mind is often subjected to the tumultuous emotions like love,hate,violence,pain and heartbreaks.Often many handsome men succumbed to them and ended up in ruins.
The author traces the life of wealthy Albuquerque family at the cusp of liberation and the internal tug of war to acclimatize with the changing times.The story starts with grand preparations made by the imposing landlady Dona Isabella for her favorite son Paulo returning home after graduating in law from Portugal.A series of events following his return changes their lives irrevocably.
The writer brought alive the Portuguese Goa and liberated Goa through his vivid description.He revived the glorious past of the place,the land of 'King of Peppercorns' through his work.All the characters are well etched and explored to the potential.The subplots fills in like the finer details of a painting without which its impossible to comprehend the meaning of the larger piece.A rustic feelings works throughout the plot.The pace of the story is slow ,it takes its own sweet little time to grow on you.But once the narration progressed,the events starts unraveling the skeletons of the past, its hard to the leave the book without finishing.

Few lines which still lingers on my mind

' He walked out,taciturn,with an unsteady swagger,as if he had bitten on a chili that stung.'


'A love of understanding,of familiarity,a love that seeps in by a slow process of osmosis.'

I fell in love with the beautiful imposing buildings of Goa and the rich culture.The author has splendid job in capturing the fine details like the arrival of american hippie culture, the diminishing
old culture,the altered education system and the attire of new generation.The plot justified the title and cover gives a glimpse of the story.The climax was unpredictable for me but I liked the way it ended.

I would suggest the book to anyone who loves historical fiction.Its a lovely piece of work.I want to thank the publisher for the review copy in exchange of honest review.

[Ben · Rating 4 out of 5]

A romance spiked by pepper


The Sting of Peppercorns
A novel by Antonio Gomes
Publisher: Goa, 1556 and Broadway Book Centre
Price Rs 395 (paperback); Pages 266


A review by Ben Antao

Are first novels set in Goa destined to be romantic? Let me see now. Sorrowing Lies My Land by Lambert Mascarenhas, 95, first published in 1955, carries a romantic aura of freedom from colonial rule. Tivolem by Victor Rangel-Ribeiro, 84, published in 1998, has a love story blossoming in a place called Tivolem, a fictitious place in Goa situated in Porvorim. SKIN by Margaret Mascarenhas, forty something, published in 2001, exposes love and seduction amidst magic realism and quest for identity. And my own novel The Tailor’s Daughter (first written in 1997 although the third one to be published in 2007) focuses on caste, love and marriage, a story happening mostly in Margao, Goa in the early 50s.

And now comes The Sting of Peppercorns, a first novel by Antonio Gomes, 65, a Goan-born, New York-based cardiologist, which reads like a breathless love story that one imagines unfolding on the cinema screen, a melodrama filled with maudlin sentimentality for the loss of good times that loops in a property-rich, Brahmin Catholic family of Loutolim in Goa.

The story of Peppercorns opens in May 1961 and continues until after the Opinion Poll of 1967, capturing both the pre-and-post-Liberation periods. The family comprises the patriarch Afonso de Albuquerque, a namesake of the conqueror of Goa to whom the family is linked through legend, his wife Dona Isabella, their two sons Paulo and Roberto, their daughter Amanda, an aunt Rosita noted for her cooking skills, ayah Carmina, and several servants who live on the Albuquerque estate. The action unfolds in May with elaborate preparations to welcome Paulo who is returning home from Coimbra, Portugal, after finishing his Direito (law degree). On the very night of his arrival, after a sumptuous dinner and drinks, Paulo is attacked in his own mansion by a gang of guerrillas ostensibly to make a statement about freedom from foreign rule but actually to rob the family of their expensive jewellery. Paulo escapes unharmed but the attack leaves him shaken yet in an aura of glory. Of course, the Albuquerques’ connection to the local police also helped.

The author then takes the reader into the backgrounds of Senhor Afonso and Dona Isabella who falls in love with a Portuguese Captain Borda de Mar, who would be the sting of the peppercorns. Before returning to Goa, Paulo with his Casanova charm had sowed his wild seeds in the bordellos of Coimbra, in drinking and sex orgies, even impregnating a Portuguese girl Ana Sofia, the daughter of his apartment building landlady. Roberto gets a taste of life his brother lived when he visited him.

“Paulo took Roberto out for dinner with friends where he flashed Portuguese escudos like he was a Goan maharaja, telling tall tales about the voluptuous temple dancing girls and his hunting escapades on elephant back in Dudhsagar. Undoubtedly, it struck Roberto that his brother had developed a large circle of friends who flocked to him for his money, looks, his wit, his tales, his singing and his melodious guitar. He played flamenco like a Spanish gypsy, and the Fado, like a Portuguese virtuoso. It seemed for Paulo the world was a fast track, capacious, sweet and promising, ready to be tamed, controlled, and toyed with.”

In Goa Roberto pursues a medical education, while his sister Amanda becomes a teacher of English in a high school in Margao. As time goes by, Roberto is attracted to a beautiful Goan girl Maria and Amanda falls in love with Winnie, an over-educated teacher in the same school, but of a lower fisherfolk caste.

After the attack, Paulo abandons his ambition to work in Panjim in the legal system and gravitates to the hippie commune of Baga and Anjuna, where he experiences the delights of psychedelic highs. The author writes a beautifully imagined and realised scene involving the hippies, Paulo`s meeting with an American Uma who renames him as Krishna, followed by a rite of Shiva lingam worship by the stoned hippies. Here is a sample:

“Music played, the booze and chillum passed around, and the drug and sex orgy began. Paulo and Roberto had sips of the feni liquor and several droughts of the chillum. Paulo was sitting by Suzy, and Suzy was all over him. Roberto`s poor tolerance to alcohol quickly made him high and woozy. Afraid he would black out, Roberto laid down on the Rajasthani spread and, before he knew what was happening, they were all over each other. A blur of naked bodies moved like serpents in the psychedelic pit.”

Finally, what happens to Paulo, Roberto and their sister Amanda and their parents is the stuff that would make a fine movie in the romance genre. The novel also explores the divided political loyalties in the Albuquerque household, not uncommon in the pre-Liberation Goa.

The novel is narrated in the third person point of view (POV), which caries an advantage for the author to be an omniscient observer of all that is going on. However, one disadvantage of this POV is that it can distance the reader from any emotional attachment to the characters, as it happens in several places in this novel. Antonio Gomes handles the narrative with confidence and style, the language ever fresh and often literary in tone. Still, the story would have been enriched if the author had used more frequently than is apparent here the technique of show, don`t tell. Here is an instance where dialogue would work better than indirect narration.

“Roberto was wandering on the beach like a zombie until Maria`s brother found him incoherent and took him to the Tourist Hostel. He told Roberto that Maria was distressed and hysterical when she arrived at the Tourist Hostel crying for help, and that friends had taken her home to Panjim. She hadn`t realized that Roberto had blacked out; there were no lights on the unspoiled virgin beach, and she couldn`t have seen him in the dark.”

Another suggestion I`d like to make is not to describe the dialogue with verbs and adverbs. A simple “he said or she said” after the spoken words is more effective than using phrases like he insisted or grumbled or implored or responded. The reader is usually smart and will know how the character responds in a given situation.

There are many places where the author indulges his obvious feelings for the Goan landscape and seasons. Here Antonio writes about the arrival of the monsoon. “The mango and the jackfruit season ended; the monsoon was late, the land was parched and cracked, the eyes were sore and the brow had a crust of salt. The mid-day sun with its relentless ultraviolet rays had scorched and darkened the dark skin of the local Kundbi tribe who roamed idle with bodies exposed and loins covered by the kaxti, that kept on getting lighter and muddier. The village waited in anticipation, raising its eyes to the sky, its palms turned upwards in supplication. Then, all of a sudden, it happened: a mass of dark clouds gathered and day became dusk. There was lightning and thunder, and street boys remarked, “It’s St Peter and St Paul playing football.”

As I enjoyed reading the novel, I kept wondering about the relevance of the title and it finally came in a separate chapter towards the end when the mystery was unmasked. The title is also a metaphor for the spices for which the Portuguese navigators came to Goa and India. And the link of the Albuquerque house is shown by the ample growth of pepper plants in the compound. For the sting, though, you’ve to read the novel.

Readers like me who lived in Goa in the 50s and 60s will appreciate the detailed settings (Panjim, Calangute and Baga); those of the newer generation will appreciate how life was lived at the cusp of Liberation in one wealthy family household and its struggle to assimilate or not in the new political reality. Antonio Gomes handles this situation with clear-eyed objectivity, sympathy and compassion. The Sting of the Peppercorns is a first novel of tremendous achievement.

If I am not mistaken, this is also the first work of fiction published by Goa, 1556, an alternative publishing venture started three years ago by journalist Frederick Noronha, 46, of Saligao.


Ben Antao, 74, a Canadian Goan living in Toronto, is a journalist and novelist who has published five novels and several short stories and non-fiction. Blood & Nemesis, Penance, The Tailor’s Daughter, Living on the Market and The Priest and His Karma are his novels. His non-fiction includes the memoir, Images of the USA (2009) and travelogues, Goa A Rediscovery and The Lands of Sicily. His email: ben.antao@rogers.com



Word count: 1480

[Sunny (Jupiter's Solo Bibliophile) · Rating 5 out of 5]

A poignant family drama that sails in between Coimbra, Portugal to Goa of pre and post military takeover by India, The Sting of Peppercorns is a bold and memorable book that boldly asks the readers some serious questions about the human society. The story is of Roberto, whose Portuguese Indian family gets involved in some unseen incidents that tears apart the entire family. Add in this the Independent India's takeover of Goa and the sudden change in Goan politics and social lifestyle. Some serious revelations by the Ayah after twenty seven years force Roberto and Maria to make up for the lost time and reconciliate after a shaky marriage.
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The book is very good, with equal volumes of love, hate, drama, mystery and some spiritual awakening. The characters are really good, with a few like Roberto taking all the spotlight with their expressions and deep emotions. The shift between Portugal and India is smooth and free of any unnecessary drama. The writing is crisp, full of banter and tragedy and the climax is full of high speed drama. Never did I found myself bored of the book, and I wish that everyone reads it once, for this book is a masterpiece!

[Kani · Rating 2 out of 5]

Foreign stores are sometimes strangely told, and this is one. I didn't like it much but I did like the local descriptions of Goa before it really became known as the hippie haven it became. A difficult story, sad.