Reading “Filler” Books
How Reading Mediocre books affects thinking and writing and in turn weakening a solid foundation Malayalam literature always had
How Reading Mediocre books affects thinking and writing and in turn weakening a solid foundation Malayalam literature always had
Recently I finished reading Cixin Liu’s Death’s End. In the hardcore science fiction genre, it stands as a peak of human imagination (for imagination itself is intelligence). It’s also the conclusion of the series. The central plot is that an alien civilization tries to conquer Earth. Humanity spends centuries preparing a weapon to face them.
I just finished reading Arundhati Roy’s memoir Mother Mary Comes to Me. Earlier, when I read and reviewed her novel Utmost (I’d once seen a humbug mock it), I had noted that her writing spilled over with anger and intensity. Now, in this memoir, she lists the reasons for that anger. She shows that her
Arundhati Roy’s clarity is impossible to deny. I have disagreed — and at times still disagree — with some of her ideas, especially her positions on Kerala politics. My sense has been that some of those views were shaped under the influence of certain Islamic fundamentalist groups here. Another disagreement, years ago, came from my
In the earlier post, I mentioned that Browne wrote out of his experience of living in Norfolk. Sebald lived in Norwich, and Naipaul in Wiltshire. Sebald’s narrator writes by blending memory with the experience of walking through Suffolk. Naipaul’s narrator does essentially the same thing, though he stays rooted in one place. Later, when I
Although I had written this before, there was a time in my reading life when I avoided Rushdie and Naipaul after seeing them dismissed by Krishnan Nair (he was not really a critic but a literary journalist — which, to be fair, suits many so-called “critics” now as well). Later, however, I read two of
A serious reader does not choose a book in isolation; it is always the sum of the people, times, and experiences they have passed through. That is what some online readers fail to grasp. The offline lives of people we see online—their ripenings, the choices they make, the things they embrace or abandon—cannot be known
Adrian Tchaikovsky continues his prolific streak— it feels like every six months there’s something new from him. This time, it’s The Hungry Gods, set in yet another post-apocalyptic world filled with talking animals and birds. Was it as good as Shroud? For me, the answer is no. But with Tchaikovsky, there’s always something fresh to latch onto—some concept,
Today, I came across a ridiculous post by a so-called poet of Malayalam, offering his take on Cherukad—one of the finest memoirists in our language. This poet attempts to trivialize Cherukad’s legacy with a shallow and dismissive commentary—an effort as superficial as his own poetry. Sadly, this is the sort of noise that thrives in
2025, Week 31 Daytripper – Fábio Moon & Gabriel Bá Daytripper is a 10-part graphic novel series by Fábio Moon and Gabriel Bá, later published as a single book. It follows Brás, a wannabe writer and the son of a renowned author. He writes obituaries for a local newspaper—work he finds dull but that turns
The prompts: 1. How many books have you read so far this year? Do you have a yearly reading goal? If so, how are you doing with it? I’ve read 63 books so far this year. I don’t set yearly goals — I never really have. This year started strong, and I just kept the
I had tried The Trees by Percival Everett before, but couldn’t quite get into it—largely due to the audio narration. I faced a similar issue with James, his clever retelling of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. That said, I finally revisited The Trees, and I’m glad I did. It starts off in Mississippi as a