Perhaps you've heard it said that India is the world's next superpower: a nation of economic and technological progress that will soon succeed Western countries on the world stage. If so, Aravind Adiga's debut novel The White Tiger might make you think twice. Winner of the Booker Prize in 2008, this novel is a vicious, literary exposé of the delusion of 'progress' in modern India. Our narrator, Balram, splits the country into two halves: an 'India of Darkness' and an 'India of Light'. While Adiga's evocation of the poverty in the former is brutally vivid, it is his portrayal of the latter that will really grab his readers' attention. The India of his novel is a society that functions with mechanical amorality, where rich and poor alike are so habituated to the dog-eat-dog corruption that nobody thinks to question the status quo.

For all its atmospheric bustle, the novel is filled with the empty promise of change; a feeling that our narrator only partially acknowledges. Having titled himself 'The White Tiger', he views his own rise to the top of the food chain with a satisfaction that Adiga quietly subverts. As the wheels of this society continue their foul cycles – crime, poverty, betrayal – the reader comes to realise that its progress is not progress at all, and that the jungle will always be just that: a jungle.

As engaging as the subject matter is, it is Balram's narration above all that gives this study of modern India its twisted charisma. His straight-to-the-bone comments about everything from religion to democracy to the behaviour of Westerners will elicit wry smiles from the toughest of readers. Somehow, these 'life lessons' manage to be amusingly oversimplified and remarkably incisive at the same time. Whether you love him or hate him – or an indecisive mix of the two, as is more probable – the way Balram keeps the novel speeding along is difficult to resist.

Eye-opening on so many levels, The White Tiger is literature as it should be: topical, memorable and completely readable. Adiga's densely packed portrait of Indian society unravels in the mind for days afterwards. If it is half the country he paints it to be, urgent intervention is definitely called for. ( )

This novel won the Man Booker Prize in 2008. It's set in India, and the protagonist is a man who is a entrepreneur with his own business. He's writing the story, in installments each night, to send to the Chinese Premier who is visiting India. He says he wants to explain the real India, not the one that a visitor will be shown. He tells of growing up poor in a small, rural town, getting a job as a servant, and then finally breaking out into being his own boss.

I only recall 3 people treating him with any kindness — one of whom he kills —
and he only treats one person, a nephew, well. It's not what I'd call a fun or uplifting book to read. It was fascinating to read the portrait of Delhi, Bangalore, and village life. The portrayal of the police and the political system is damning, and in an interview with Adiga that I read, he says that he didn't consider it exaggerated.

quite wicked and revealing of real workings of Indian society [as shown by this author of course!] Very easy to read which was a surprise. ( )

Reviewed by Mr. Kome ( )

This is a deserving winner of the Man Booker Prize. It's a tale of corruption and murder, and the stunning contradiction that is modern day India. Adiga writes with gusto and a huge amount of confidence, and what he has to say is very useful in coming to an understanding of what India is really like. Forget the glossy photos you see in the tourist guides!

This is also one of the wittiest stories I've read this year, full of memorable lines and delectable observations. ( )