Amit Chaudhuri

A narrator named Chaudhuri has become a well-known writer after schooling in England. Periodically, he returns to his former home in Bombay for book fairs and readings of his latest novel. His friend, Ramu, from his school days, has not been so successful. The narrator and Ramu meet in Bombay and revisit the places and neighborhoods of their youth. ..places I gladly looked up when reading this absorbing book. Some places where they wandered were just the same and some had changed. The Taj show more Hotel, the location of the 2011 terrorist attack, became a spectral character in itself.
I admired Chaudhuri's writing for its restraint and its ability to weave in so many threads of time, family, and love of place. I felt I was with him all the way. When I finished the book I let it settle in a few days and then read it again. show less

To me, this book read as a love song to Bombay. Amit Chaudhuri and I appear to have lived at a similar time and seen Bombay through very a very similar lens - that of an upper middle class child and then young adult, not completely belonging, given the transient nature of the family ties that brought us there, yet in some ways belonging no place else in the world. His descriptions of Malabar Hill, Kamala Nehru Park, that lookout over the city from up top, Marine Drive, Churchgate, Colaba and show more the Taj, the long corridor in the hotel that leads to Joy Shoes, passing by the Chinese restaurant - these are all memories that are etched in my mind, too, and revisiting them through this book is what kept me turning the pages.

[But if this book is about friendship, then that friendship is painted in very subtle and faded colours. I did not feel that I understood Ramu very much better through the pages. Rather, the narrator and his family seemed to be the ones that constantly bubbled to the center, while others drifted in and out of the edges.]

Amit Chaudhuri has the amazing ability to evoke a mood. Years after I read Afternoon Raga, for example, I remember little about the actual story, but I remember the feeling it evoked. I suspect that I will feel the same about this book. show less

OK, lets say this up front: not much happens in this book, so if you're looking for action, better skip this one and go back to 'Game of Thrones.' It's a short, simple, introspective novel about a young man and his uncle. It's the Thatcher era, and Ananda has been in London for two years, studying English literature and trying to become a poet. He lives with his bachelor uncle, Radhesh, in a basement bedsit. There's an attractive woman living downstairs and a party that apparently goes on show more 24/7 upstairs. The book focuses on a single day in their lives--sort of an homage to Stephen Daedalus, if you will, or even Clarissa Dalloway. (The Odyssey reference is a bit tongue-in-cheek.) But besides their quarrels over the relative value of Keats v. Tagore and the quality of Indian food in England, Ananda's narrative goes back in time, telling the story of Radhesh's past, of how his own parents met and married, of his sad poet-uncle who lived in Ceylon, and of his own disappointments. The relationship between the two is a kind of Push Me-Pull Me: on one hand, they represent the typical generation gap, intensified the conflicting desires to fit into English society and a longing for home; on the other, they are united by the ties of blood, of family, of familiarity, of India. A quiet little book with moments of insight and of humor, Odysseus Abroad will not shake your world, but it might make you think a bit. Overall, a fast and enjoyable read. show less

I have never read Amit Chaudhuri's novels, but I can see that he is not a plot-mover; he is rather a mood-setter. Even in his essays about Calcutta, or Kalkota, there is a strong sense of moods shifting, memories languidly slipping through time, objects standing still, and people observing; not much happens other than conversations. Chaudhuri is at times an eager journalist, doggedly questioning everyone from Italian chefs (not to be confused with executive chefs!) to the very poor people show more who live on the streets. What I liked about most of his discourse is that he is not apologetic. He talks about "the help" and the difficulties of maintaining good help, the rocky relationship households have with the help, and never is he apologetic about having help, nor is he unaware of the thousand and one ethical and moral issues that surround the facts of belonging to a class that employs such help. He tries endlessly to understand the classes, and the history of Calcutta that he dissects is very much the history of classes. Very much aware of his own class, he is fixated on the middle class, its past, its present, and its image. At times very funny, at times very insightful, and sometimes a bit bitter, he recounts his memories of Calcutta as well as his interviews and experiences living in the city between 2009 and 2011.

Chaudhuri writes very much like an academic, and as a result, some discourses are a bit too "academic" for a casual book of essays, especially his long discourses about modernity and modern Calcutta. However, his essays "Universal Suffrage," "High Tea," "Italians Abroad," and "Study Leave" capture a very good balance, and manage to almost entirely escape the lofty academic discourse in favor of the hilarious, curious, melancholic, and the present.

Recommended for those who like history, cosmopolitan cities, and the mysteries of the middle class. show less