When Jeet Thayil was 13 years old, he bought a copy of Catch-22. His father, the noted journalist and editor TJS George, did not approve. When he found Heller’s book, he confiscated it. Thayil went out and bought another. Enraged, believing the book to be inappropriate for a young man, and certainly for one who … Continue reading
C-H-A-M-M-I. Chandima Rajapatirana’s first word, painstakingly spelled out, letter by letter, was a revelation. He had had no means of communicating in the 17 years that led up to this moment. Few suspected he had anything worth saying. Raised by his Sri Lankan parents in the US, he was first diagnosed with autism at the … Continue reading
To anyone who knows her, it is clear Jean Arasanayagam is her own most penetrating, most persistent interrogator. In a dance that her readers are familiar with, Jean asks the questions and then finds the answers in her poetry and prose, in fact and fiction. This is nowhere more evident than in latest collection of … Continue reading
What do you say to a man who has kept you waiting for five years? Before us stands author and poet Vikram Seth; shirt open to the waist, hair tousled by hands and breeze, he’s uncertain of who we are and why we have come to intrude on him. I’m wet from the hips down, … Continue reading
Pic courtesy Dominic Sansoni–three blindmen photography Laki and his owls: he’s lost track of how many he’s sketched, sculpted and painted into life but the closest you’ll ever come to seeing them in the same place is in a book launched last week. ‘Laki’s Book of Owls’ delivers exactly what the title promises and catalogues … Continue reading
It turns out that 200,000 Sri Lankan rupees (around Rs 8,000) is just enough to publish a modest number of books. Enabling that first run is what the Gratiaen Trust does for its winners. The trust was instituted by Michael Ondaatje with his winnings from the Booker Prize for his novel The English Patient in 1992. Today, … Continue reading
By the time Sean Borodale stepped into the middle of a swarm of ‘fizzing thousands’ he had already been stung thrice. Now, though ‘netted in trawls of strumming bee,’ his discarded gloves leaving his arms unprotected, Sean felt in no danger. In fact, the bees barely seemed to know he was there – after months … Continue reading
