It is never easy to pick the next book to read. There is always this nagging thought: How do I choose the next book that will keep me enthralled? As a reader, I face this quite often. And then there are times that a jury makes things easy for me by announcing the longlist of an important prize or literary award. A. Very. Big. Prize.
In other words, the DSC Prize for South Asian Literature. With its prize money of $50,000 - about Rs 30 lakh if paid out in Indian rupees, of which the winner will get to keep about Rs 20 lakh (the rest goes as tax), this prize could probably keep a writer afloat for a year or so, provided they’re not a big spender.
Unlike most other literary prizes, this one doesn’t limit itself to a particular part of the world. All it asks is that the book - a novel, never a collection of short stories - be about south Asia. You could be a Norwegian who lives in Peru and be in contention if your novel is about south Asia. By the same token, a book about Nigeria by an Indian writing in India will not qualify.
So. The longlist this year. It’s interesting. Why do I say that? Because not only is it varied in its choice, it is also quirky, and understated, but with an eye on the mass market of readers, trying to break barriers through literature. The other noticeable aspect of this list is the deep-rooted political content of almost every book.
Politics on the page
For instance, The Scatter Here is Too Great, by Bilal Tanweer, a novel in the form of interconnected stories, about a bomb-blast in Karachi and the people affected by the incident. Likewise, Jaspreet Singh’s Helium brings a strong narrative of the 1984 Sikh massacre to light. It is about hope lost, a history that is partly about truth and mostly about lies, and the relationship between a student and his professor against this backdrop.
Then there is The Lowland, by Jhumpa Lahiri, which builds on the Naxalite movement in Calcutta. It is structured around a family, two brothers and dysfunctional relationships that never leave the heart and the soul. And Kamila Shamsie’s A God in Every Stone journeys through love, freedom, and stories that span years, drawing in different characters across the globe and in different empires, sensitising readers to how detrimental history can sometimes be.
And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini, though not literally a political novel, still has its roots in what is representative of Afghanistan and its people. The writing, of course, is sentimental, but at the same time Hosseini brings fresh perspectives to this tale of a brother and a sister, with the ever turbulent Afghanistan as the backdrop.
The Gypsy Goddess, by Meena Kandasamy, is an unsparing tale of Indian farmers, their rights, their understanding of Communism, the landlords wanting to teach them a lesson—a fantastical spin to the complex tale of rural politics and India as a developing country. It is layered, and not what it appears to be on the surface.
One of my two personal favourites on the list is Romesh Gunesekera’s Noontide Toll, set in Sri Lanka. It is about the present and the past. The past that now seems gone, but has it really disappeared? This is again a collection of interlinked stories as experienced by a tax-driver, Vasantha. A read you cannot miss for sure.
The Prisoner by Omar Shahid Hamid starts off slowly. It may also seem to be a bit dull to begin with, but as a reader, I recommend you give it twenty pages, because after that it won’t seem dull at all. Again, the element of political turmoil is very strong. It is about the world of Karachi police, as seen through the eyes of a Christian police officer and a kidnapping, which lie at the heart of the story. Can it get any better than this?
Mad Girl’s Love Song by Rukmini Bhaya Nair is the only selection that is not political. (Well, perhaps it is to some extent, but I shall not go there). It is about the love of literature and a girl’s madness and the dreams and hopes of a life that’s compared to hose of Sylvia Plath, William Blake and D.H. Lawrence. It is brutal, it is weird and it is superlative fiction.
Last, but by no means the least, is my other favourite on the list, Shamsur Rahman Faruqi’s The Mirror of Beauty. A historical sweep through time and imperial Delhi, this book moves and entertains in equal measure.
The shortlist will be out soon. And then it will be down to five, or maybe six. Watch this space.
The longlist
Bilal Tanweer: The Scatter Here is Too Great (Vintage Books/Random House)
Jaspreet Singh: Helium (Bloomsbury)
Jhumpa Lahiri: The Lowland (Vintage Books/Random House)
Kamila Shamsie: A God in Every Stone (Bloomsbury)
Khaled Hosseini: And the Mountains Echoed (Bloomsbury)
Meena Kandasamy: The Gypsy Goddess (Fourth Estate/Harper Collins)
Omar Shahid Hamid: The Prisoner (Pan Books/Pan Macmillan)
Romesh Gunesekera: Noontide Toll (Hamish Hamilton/Penguin)
Rukmini Bhaya Nair: Mad Girl’s Love Song (Harper Collins)
Shamsur Rahman Faruqi: The Mirror of Beauty (Penguin Books)
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In other words, the DSC Prize for South Asian Literature. With its prize money of $50,000 - about Rs 30 lakh if paid out in Indian rupees, of which the winner will get to keep about Rs 20 lakh (the rest goes as tax), this prize could probably keep a writer afloat for a year or so, provided they’re not a big spender.
Unlike most other literary prizes, this one doesn’t limit itself to a particular part of the world. All it asks is that the book - a novel, never a collection of short stories - be about south Asia. You could be a Norwegian who lives in Peru and be in contention if your novel is about south Asia. By the same token, a book about Nigeria by an Indian writing in India will not qualify.
So. The longlist this year. It’s interesting. Why do I say that? Because not only is it varied in its choice, it is also quirky, and understated, but with an eye on the mass market of readers, trying to break barriers through literature. The other noticeable aspect of this list is the deep-rooted political content of almost every book.
Politics on the page
For instance, The Scatter Here is Too Great, by Bilal Tanweer, a novel in the form of interconnected stories, about a bomb-blast in Karachi and the people affected by the incident. Likewise, Jaspreet Singh’s Helium brings a strong narrative of the 1984 Sikh massacre to light. It is about hope lost, a history that is partly about truth and mostly about lies, and the relationship between a student and his professor against this backdrop.
Then there is The Lowland, by Jhumpa Lahiri, which builds on the Naxalite movement in Calcutta. It is structured around a family, two brothers and dysfunctional relationships that never leave the heart and the soul. And Kamila Shamsie’s A God in Every Stone journeys through love, freedom, and stories that span years, drawing in different characters across the globe and in different empires, sensitising readers to how detrimental history can sometimes be.
And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini, though not literally a political novel, still has its roots in what is representative of Afghanistan and its people. The writing, of course, is sentimental, but at the same time Hosseini brings fresh perspectives to this tale of a brother and a sister, with the ever turbulent Afghanistan as the backdrop.
The Gypsy Goddess, by Meena Kandasamy, is an unsparing tale of Indian farmers, their rights, their understanding of Communism, the landlords wanting to teach them a lesson—a fantastical spin to the complex tale of rural politics and India as a developing country. It is layered, and not what it appears to be on the surface.
One of my two personal favourites on the list is Romesh Gunesekera’s Noontide Toll, set in Sri Lanka. It is about the present and the past. The past that now seems gone, but has it really disappeared? This is again a collection of interlinked stories as experienced by a tax-driver, Vasantha. A read you cannot miss for sure.
The Prisoner by Omar Shahid Hamid starts off slowly. It may also seem to be a bit dull to begin with, but as a reader, I recommend you give it twenty pages, because after that it won’t seem dull at all. Again, the element of political turmoil is very strong. It is about the world of Karachi police, as seen through the eyes of a Christian police officer and a kidnapping, which lie at the heart of the story. Can it get any better than this?
Mad Girl’s Love Song by Rukmini Bhaya Nair is the only selection that is not political. (Well, perhaps it is to some extent, but I shall not go there). It is about the love of literature and a girl’s madness and the dreams and hopes of a life that’s compared to hose of Sylvia Plath, William Blake and D.H. Lawrence. It is brutal, it is weird and it is superlative fiction.
Last, but by no means the least, is my other favourite on the list, Shamsur Rahman Faruqi’s The Mirror of Beauty. A historical sweep through time and imperial Delhi, this book moves and entertains in equal measure.
The shortlist will be out soon. And then it will be down to five, or maybe six. Watch this space.
The longlist
Bilal Tanweer: The Scatter Here is Too Great (Vintage Books/Random House)
Jaspreet Singh: Helium (Bloomsbury)
Jhumpa Lahiri: The Lowland (Vintage Books/Random House)
Kamila Shamsie: A God in Every Stone (Bloomsbury)
Khaled Hosseini: And the Mountains Echoed (Bloomsbury)
Meena Kandasamy: The Gypsy Goddess (Fourth Estate/Harper Collins)
Omar Shahid Hamid: The Prisoner (Pan Books/Pan Macmillan)
Romesh Gunesekera: Noontide Toll (Hamish Hamilton/Penguin)
Rukmini Bhaya Nair: Mad Girl’s Love Song (Harper Collins)
Shamsur Rahman Faruqi: The Mirror of Beauty (Penguin Books)