Red Earth And Pouring Rain (1997) - Plot & Excerpts
The main things this book had going for it:•tStories within stories within stories. You might get lost like I did, but I found I didn’t really care about what level I was in as long as the stories kept unrolling and enrapturing me;•tBeautiful, vivid and lyrical language: descriptive, character-illuminating, sometimes philosophical;•tA typewriting monkey! I mean, a TYPEWRITING MONKEY! So the stories -- lots of stories -– form a Scheherazade-style framework with the monkey telling tales to both visiting gods and townspeople to save his own life: tales of romance, adventure, war, family, love, birth, death, and growing up, the magical and the mundane, from 18th century India to 1980s California. The framework around the stories, each of which has its own conflict and arc, has a conflict of its own, the challenge every storyteller has: to keep his audience intrigued. Or else. Today the television cameras came, and also the death threats. We have been warned by several organizations that the storytelling must stop. The groups on the very far right – of several religions – object to the ‘careless use of religious symbology, and the ceaseless insults to the sensitivities of the devout.’ The far-left parties object to the sensationalization and falsification of history, and the pernicious Western influences on our young.’ Everyone objects to the sex, except the audience. We have become a national issue. Questions have been raised in parliament. Sir Patanjali Abhishek Vardarajan, the grand old man of Indian science, has offered a reward of fifty thousand rupees to ‘anyone who can demonstrate the existence of a typing monkey under laboratory conditions.’ . . . ‘We will not be bullied,’ Saira said. “Type on.’ I was almost a hundred pages into this before I learned that Chandra had studied writing with John Barth at Johns Hopkins. Well, no wonder I was loving it. This has the same sort of sprawling scope and playful tone as many of Barth’s longer works, blending the mythical, historical and the everyday in a similar fashion. It’s certainly not on a level in terms of prose or structure, of course, but it’s still awfully good. And once I knew the connection, I could plainly see the master’s fingerprints, the DNA is there. I’m not going to lie to you. I didn’t enjoy every page of this. Sometimes the epic battle scenes were too detailed and the play-by-play of a cricket match left me restless and skimming. But then, I’m such a girl, I don’t enjoy war and sports that much. However, most of it was delightful. So there are stories within stories, which are also stories about stories. There’s a reverence for storytelling that permeates the whole, with the frequent interjection: t“Listen . . . . “And we do.
This book is an endeavor. Written largely as a story-within-a-story, Red Earth and Pouring Rain relates the tales of two story-tellers - one, an Indian poet reincarnated in the form of a red monkey (whose human consciousness emerges after an accident), and the other, a newly-returned student sent to the United States for university. The two stories leapfrog back and forth, with each being told a chapter at a time. They tell the coming of age of two vastly different characters in vastly different periods of Indian history - both form complicated relationships with their own identity and with the people of Western backgrounds that surround them.Neither story has the weight to stand on its own - both feel rambling, and while there are definite high points, a great deal of momentum is lost by both the format and the tendency of the author to get lost in details and asides. As a result of three (or four) simultaneous storylines and ensembles, the cast of characters can get a bit confusing. Despite the great attention to detail and the ability of the author to capture emotion well, the protagonists are still largely shrouded in mystery. Even Sanjay, the central figure in the epic storyline with most depth, does not seem fully formed. His erratic behavior and vague value system can leave the reader befuddled as to his actions.Altogether, this book was interesting, and worth the read. I can't shake the feeling that the project was perhaps too ambitious, but there are threads of good stories here. The author is upfront that the format is that of mere story-telling; the narrative is borrowed from oral history and recollections of individual characters; it is not a true novel in that sense. There is a touch of the mythological that hints at weighty issues of meaning and justice, but these are largely circumnavigated by the angsty rebellion of Sanjay against the concept of fate. In the end, Vikram Chandra's work disappoints not because it is bad - but because it stops short of being something special. Like his characters, this work feels incomplete.
What do You think about Red Earth And Pouring Rain (1997)?
Chandra is an amazing storyteller. I will say that I picked this book up in college and quickly set it down as I did not get many (most) of the Indian references. After visiting India (even for a short period of time), it was no longer an issue. I think understanding the references is key to enjoying this book. After that, sit back and let the stories unroll. Don't try to "get through it" because that can be rough. Let the story be told as he tells it-- some moments are slow or pieces are interrupted for reasons. You will see. It becomes cohesive only with time. I would say the best way to read this book is continuously-- don't set it down and pick up again with gaps of more than a day or two. And yet, take your time with it. You will be pleasantly surprised.Chandra's prose is beautiful, his narrative approach clever and compelling. He creates striking imagery. The words and scenes replay in my head over and over months later.
—Emily
Also reviewed @ http://love-affair-with-books.blogspo...I have made it to page 70 and am not prepared to read any further.What I have read is basically utter crap. Sacred Games- the author's second book was fantastic, completely the opposite to this relating to the llves of Police Officers and Gangsters. Very easy to grasp, this book, I couldn't tell you what it is supposed to be about because it literally turns into several stories within another and basically not very good stories at that.It starts off set in Modern day India where it is discovered that a person or soul from a previous Indian male is trapped in the body of a monkey, This monkey is wanted dead by Yama- a spirit of the past of sorts because of the guys bad karma. In order to put of his death he states he will create the 'Big Indian Story' and tell stories to captivate Yamaha and various other persons attention for so many days. So we are then told a story which ends up turning into a story within a story.My opinion is that the author was trying to be clever and epically failed to be honest; the story is boring, holds no interest for me and the characters feel wooden, stilted and not quite real.Following this, we are brought back into the present and another person tells a story. The son of the Indian family who just came back from America. Now this story made zero sense at all, all about drugs, kissing women and basically getting depressed. I'm sorry but where is the interesting story in that? Or am I too stupid to get this?Nothing wrong with Vikram's writing - it feels very accomplished, nicely descriptive but without being over the top with just description but I just don't get what he is trying to do here. His writing isn't as straightforward as it is in 'Sacred Games' but it's the way he has decided to tell the story that's made it so, not the writing itself. I think that if I had read this first, I would never have read anything by him again. So luckily this wasn't my first read by this guy, I would maybe try future books given how highly I thought of his second novel.Absolutely ridiculous and boring, and will end up on my overrated trash shelf. Considering this is supposed to be literature, I'm in absolute shock. To me, this is not literature, this is trash basket material. Sorry Vikram. I absolutely hated it.
—Yas
I hate to deny this book 4 stars, yet I feel it's fair. Vikram has a gift of prose, can knit a good yarn, and manages some vivid imagery. If only, the narrative was a little more tightly weaved together. I don't mind bouncing from a college student in modern day L.A, to an Indian Warrior Mystic embroiled in war, and then over to modern India w/ a type writing monkey. Yeah, it bounces around a lot and that's fine. Somewhere though, especially with a complicated character like 'Sikander' you lose the much needed focus to finish fleshing out his character. The amount of characters becomes a jumble of confusion, along with the battles/skirmishes, and you feel displaced; like a lost time traveler. Maybe if he had narrowed his focus and ambition a little bit. An enormous attention span and patience just isn't an aid. Maybe in a few years I'll reread, it's almost worth that.
—John Maltman
