A novel about India in the late 1800s. I've been putting off reading this book– despite it being hugely famous and people constantly asking me if I've read it– because I'm pretty sure it's going to be obnoxiously pro-colonialism. (The dedication, for instance, is to the author's husband and father-in-law, British soldiers who served in India.) But I'm not far enough into it yet to judge, so perhaps I'll be pleasantly surprised.I was quite amused by this passage, describing a woman who died after giving birth in a tent:It was not her fault that Isobel died. It was the wind that killed Isobel: that cold wind off the far, high snows beyond the passes. It stirred up the dust and the dead pine-needles and sent them swirling through the tent where the lamp guttered to the draught, and there was dirt in that dust: germs and infection and uncleanness from the camp outside, and from other camps. Dirt that would not have been found in a bedroom in Peshawar cantonment, with an English doctor to care for the young mother.I'm pretty sure the author a) does not understand how germs work, and b) is way overestimating the value of a doctor in 1850. So, I was afraid this book would be colonialist, and it turns out I was right! D: As well as being terrible in all sorts of ways. Rather than detail them all, I think I'll just excerpt this bit for your enjoyment (the context is that Anjuli, an Indian princess because of course she is, has snuck out alone to meet privately with Ash, a British dude):"If it is for yourself that you are afraid," said Anjuli sweetly, "you have no cause to be, for I sleep alone and therefore no one will miss me. And if I feared for myself, I would not be here."Her voice was still barely more than a whisper, but there was so much scorn in it that the blood came up into Ash's face and for a fraction of a second his fingers tightened cruelly about her wrist."Why, you little bitch," said Ash softly and in English.OUR HERO, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. And no, why her not being afraid should make her a 'bitch' makes no more sense in context. If anything, it's more shocking because the rest of the book treats swearing much as 19th-century literature would– that is, avoids it nearly entirely.There's also plenty of narrative discourse expounding upon the foreign ways of the East (crafty, prone to lying, intricate) and how they differ from the ways of the West (straightforward, honest, fair) and how impossible it is that ever the twain should meet. However, Our Hero Ash was raised as an Indian for most of his childhood and thus can cross the lines. The example given for this is whenever he's asked a general polite question ("What's your opinion?" or "How are you?") he answers honestly, even when one is expected to tell a white lie. And this shows how foreign he is from those straightforward British! I don't know why it bothers me that the author can't keep her racism straight, BUT IT DOES.I'm going to read the next 800 pages anyway, because I have a Thing about finishing books I've started, but it's totally going to be a hate read.Another distressing passage for you all! The context here is that Ash and Anjuli are in love, but Anjuli refuses to run away with him because she promised to take care of her younger sister, Shushila:Ash caught her wrist and wrenched her hand away: "But I love you too. And I need you. Does that mean nothing to you? Do you care so much more for her than you do for me? Do you?" [...] "And my happiness?" demanded Ash, his voice harsh with pain. "Does mine not matter?"But it had been no good. Nothing that he could say had made any difference. He had used every argument and every plea he could think of, and at last he had taken her again, ravaging her with an animal violence that had bruised and hurt, yet was still sexually skilful enough to force a response from her that was half pain and half piercing rapture. But when it was over and they lay spent and breathless, she could still say: "I cannot betray her." And he knew that Shushila had won, and that he was beaten. His arms fell away and he drew aside and lay on his back staring up into the darkness, and for a long time neither of them spoke.GOOD JOB ASH! This is totally the way to convince someone to spend their life with you: act like a whiny brat and then abuse them. That's what I like in a romantic hero. I didn't even include the part where Anjuli tells him not to worry, she knows how to make her future husband think she's a virgin, and Ash is disgusted and angry that she knows "harlot's tricks".Ash continues to be a dick, news at eleven.Still terrible! In recent developments of the terribleness, Anjuli (Ash's One True Love) and her sister Shushila have been condemned to be burned alive. (I also have a lot of Doylist criticisms of the climatic event of the novel being a European dude rescuing an Indian woman from sati, but let's stick to Watsonian terribleness for the moment.) But obviously Ash only really cares about saving one woman from this fate, because, yo, he's not in love with Shushila so who cares what happens to her? Or, as he says to Anjuli when she feels obligated to watch Shushila (WHO, AGAIN, IS HER SISTER) till the end:"Shushila!" Ash spat out the name as though it were an obscenity. "Always Shushila – and selfish to the end. I suppose she made you promise to do this? She would! Oh, I know she saved you from burning with her, but if she'd really wanted to repay you for all you have done for her, she could have saved you from reprisals at the hands of the Diwan by having you smuggled out of the state, instead of begging you to come here and watch her die.""You don't understand," whispered Anjuli numbly."Oh, yes I do. That's where you are wrong. I understand only too well. You are still hypnotized by that selfish, hysterical little egotist."Or later, after Shushila has died and Anjuli is still mourning her (it's been, like, less than a month, by the way):"You will not", said Ash, speaking between clenched teeth, "say that name to me again. Now or ever! Do you understand? I'm sick and tired of it. While she was alive I had to stand aside and see you sacrifice yourself and our whole future for her sake, and now that she's dead it seems that you are just as determined to wreck the rest of our lives by brooding and moping and moaning over her memory. She's dead, but you still refuse to face that. You won't let her go, will you?"He pushed Anjuli away with a savage thrust that sent her reeling against the wall for support, and said gratingly: "Well, from now on you're going to let the poor girl rest in peace, instead of encouraging her to haunt you. You're my wife now, and I'm damned if I'm going to share you with Shu-shu. I'm not having two women in my bed, even if one of them is a ghost, so you can make up your mind here and now; myself or Shushila."OH ASH SO ROMANTIC. But hey, it turns out to be okay, because then Anjuli relates a long story about how Ash was right all along, and Shushila was totally an evil bitch just like her mother, because I guess evil (and sexiness!) is genetic. I can't wait until I'm done with this book.God, this book is endless. But I'm so close to being done! For the dramatic climax, Ash has gone off to disguise himself as an Afghani to be a spy and live in Kabul during the Second Anglo-Afghan War. Because this is obviously a very exciting plot development that would be fun to read about, it's all happening off-screen while the last hundred of so pages have been a nearly non-fictional account of politics and battles. Without Ash around to be a sexist dick, the author has instead gone with bizarre European stereotypes, because I suppose something has to be terrible: And as he watched, the prescience that is so often a part of the Irish heritage stirred in him, bringing a premonition of disaster that was so strong that instinctively he flung up a hand as though to ward it off... (man, I have Irish heritage! WHEN DO I GET TO TELL THE FUTURE?) and He had not expected the older man to understand how he had felt, but Louis Cavagnari was only English by adoption. The blood in his veins was French and Irish, and he too was a romantic. I'd like to note that this book was written in 1978, not 1878.OH GOD FINALLY. For the final hundred or so pages, the book morphs into an incredibly detailed account of the attack on the British embassy in Kabul by unpaid, discontented Afghani soldiers (Ash plays no part in this, as he spends the entire time locked in a closet by someone trying to protect him from himself). The book even includes a map of the embassy, so you can follow along with who is where, like some sort of military textbook. Because that goes so well with the previous eleven hundred pages. Also there is lots of weird nearly-religious praising of soldiery ideals: The Guides laughed again; and their laughter made Wally's heart lift with pride and brought a lump to his throat as he grinned back at them with an admiration and affection that was too deep for words. Yes, life would have been worth living if only to have served and fought with men like these. It had been a privilege to command them – an enormous privilege: and it would be an even greater one to die with them. They were the salt of the earth. They were the Guides. His throat tightened as he looked at them, and he was aware again of a hard lump in it, but his eyes were very bright as he reached for his sabre, and swallowing painfully to clear that constriction, he said almost gaily: "Are we ready? Good. Then open the doors –" And then he dies (though not without quoting the Aeneid, because I guess all 19th century Irish dudes are into that sort of thing). Sorry to spoil it for you, but uh, I'm just trying to spare you all from reading it.Anyway, this event convinces Ash and Anjuli that they're too good for the rest of humanity and so they should just go live by themselves in some valley in the Himalayas (the fact that the Himalayas are, you know, already populated does not appear to present a problem):"Where do you go?""We go to find our Kingdom, Sirdar-Sahib. Our own Dur Khaima – our far pavilions.""Your...?"The Sirdar looked so bewildered that Ash's mouth twitched in the shadow of a smile as he said: "Let me say, rather, that we hope to find it. We go in search of some place where we may live and work in peace, and where men do not kill or persecute each other for sport or at the bidding of Governments – or because others do not think or speak or pray as they do, or have skins of a different colour. – do not know if there is such a place, or, if we find it, whether it will prove too hard to live there, building our own house and growing our own food and raising and teaching our children. Yet others without number have done so in the past. Countless others, since the day that out First Parents were expelled from Eden. And what others have done, we can do."And then the book ends abruptly, without revealing if they found their ~kingdom~. On the other hand, then the books ends! I don't have to read it anymore! I AM DONE THANK GOD.
This is one of those books I've had on my shelf for... freaking-ever, but it's always just sort of been there for a rainy day. Like one of those days where you feel like reading the Lord of the Rings trilogy because you want a romping good time, but sadly, you've already read the Lord of the Rings trilogy and you're not really in the mood for the wordiness that is Tolkien anyway - you just want all the fun and adventure without all the work.Okay, maybe I'm the only one who has waited to read this book for those reasons.I've read some other things by Kaye, but they were specifically mysteries. I enjoyed them both - she took me to Zanzibar and Kenya and wrote about murders there and they were pretty exciting. I knew The Far Pavilions wouldn't be that same sort of excitement, but I figured since the book is about the same weight as I am that I'd find something exciting in the pages.What I really found, sadly, was a lot of disappointment. There was some adventure, don't get me wrong. But there was so much between those moments of adventure that were not... so... adventurous, so my interest waned. A lot. I've been joking that the pavilions really are far, far away - they don't seem to make an appearance until the book is almost over, and that seems a really long time for them to show up since the title refers to them and all. I wanted them to get to the freaking Far Pavilions already, let's get on with it, oh my god, are they not there yet?Clearly I needed a Valium while reading this one.I see a lot of reviews raving about this book, and I feel really bad that I didn't manage to find it as charming as everyone said it was. But it wasn't 1189 pages of absolute horror. I was invested, occasionally, in Ash and Anjuli and their plight. The politics were vaguely interesting as well; as I've stated before (and likely will state again) I know very little about the Great Game, and I continue to feel I should know more about it before reading this sort of historical fiction - though I maintain I should be learning something as I go along, right?But I really like M.M. Kaye. She was born in India and I think that's way evident in her writing in The Far Pavilions. Her love of the country practically drips off of every page and I totally respect that. However, this book was published in 1978 and is just as much of a love story as it is an adventurous historical bit of fiction. There are parts that are... well... saccharine, and I absolutely am not in a saccharine mood right now. Like this passage:"Wally, who was always falling in and out of love, had been fond of quoting lines that some poet or other had written, to the effect that it was 'better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.' Well, Wally - and Tennyson, or whoever it was - had been right. It was better, infinitely better, to have loved Juli and lost her than not to have loved her at all. And if he did nothing worthwhile in the years ahead, life would still have been worth living because he had once loved and been loved by her..." (p 565)(That being said, I really liked the character of Wally.)I just couldn't quite shake the feeling I was reading a glorified romance novel, which is a real downer for me. I don't mind a little bit of loving in my literature, but I don't need sweeping romances. Especially when I'm picking up something that I expect to be more drama and excitement and fewer heaving bosoms.Bottom line, it's just not what I had signed up for.Interestingly at the back of the book is one of those advertisements for The Far Pavilions Picture Book - for just $7.95 this 9" x 11 1/8" "stunning visualization" of Kaye's epic could be yours. Includes selected photographs from the author's family albums and 32 color paintings by the author herself.That actually sounds neat.It just wasn't what I had wanted. And the pages multiplied every time I put it down. I seriously thought it would never end. I was ready to move on. Because I couldn't get images like the one below out of my mind. And the fact that the image below exists is proof that I'm not the only one who had those sorts of images in my mind while reading the book.
What do You think about The Far Pavilions (1997)?
It took nearly 5 months, but I have finally finished this epic tale of star-crossed lovers searching for a place to belong, set amid the political intrigues, cruelties and hubris of the British Raj. At almost 49 hours, it's by far the longest audiobook I've yet tackled. Narrator Vikas Adam was an expert guide, and much of the story had me utterly captivated. But this novel had a couple of glaring flaws that kept me from giving it 5 stars (although, in the end, it did seem to add up to more than the sum of its parts).I will leave a detailed recounting of the plot to other reviewers. At the heart of the story is the struggle of Ashton Pelham Martin, born British but raised Indian, to reconcile the two halves of himself. His beloved, Anjuli, gives the book its soul. A neglected Indian princess, she too is "half caste," valued solely for the emotional support she gives her spoiled, volatile younger sister, Shushila. The same intolerance and prejudice that makes both Ash and Juli outcasts in their own country, places seemingly insurmountable obstacles in the path of their love.The story managed to have both a breathtaking scope - sweeping from the Himalayas to the parched deserts of India and back again to the Hindu Kush - and a remarkable intimacy, revealing the private inner lives of a huge cast of characters. The novel highlighted how people find both comfort and frustration in cultural customs and traditions. They give human beings a place to belong while simultaneously limiting and stifling them.Despite all of the other compelling characters, Ash and Juli's saga was so central to the book's emotional core that the story lost its way when its focus shifted to the Second Afghan War and the ill-fated British mission to Kabul. Try as I might, I was not as engrossed in the fate of Lt. Walter Hamilton, Ash's best friend, especially as both Ash and Juli were relegated to the role of bystanders. The final quarter of the book dragged, taking me a few weeks to finish. I wish M.M. Kaye had used that section as the basis for a second book, rather than trying to shoehorn it into Ash and Juli's story.The key figures in the siege against the British mission were based on real people. Therefore, the story seemed unnecessarily padded in this final section, as if Kaye were just marking time to arrive at the major historical events. Throughout the book, she also showed a weakness for heavy-handed foreshadowing, to the point I could predict major plot twists long before they happened. In the final quarter, she beat the reader over the head with it, until I was almost relieved to finally reach the end (where I felt Ash and Juli's story was wrapped up too hastily). However, the book's many strengths made it compelling and worthwhile, and I'll probably listen to or read the story again someday. Vikas Adam was an extraordinary narrator, giving consistent, distinctive voices to all of the characters. I especially loved how he used different accents for Ash, depending on whether he was thinking or speaking in English or in an Indian dialect.
—Felicia J.
Buddy read with Hana, Tadiana, Kathy and Felicia in July 2014.This was my third reading and it's still a favorite. Usually with a reread I tend to skip over some parts but not so with this one. I wanted to read every single word because this is such a wonderful story. I may have read more carefully because it was a buddy read, or maybe I just get more out of the books I read since joining GR, whatever the reason, this third reading was the best ever. I would refer anyone interested to the group discussion pages:https://www.goodreads.com/topic/group...Thanks for a great read ladies. And thank you to Hana for setting up the folders!
—Diane Lynn
Reading this book is no small endeavor, but you will be richly rewarded for your effort.The Far Pavilions is truly a sweeping epic saga set in India during the tumultuous period of 1850-1880. The story follows the birth of a half-caste orphan boy who lives with one foot in the West and one foot in the East, and the balance he must walk as a soldier in the British Corps of Guides as England, Russia and Eastern tribes try to hold and expand their influence. The vast group of characters includes every religious background, every caste level, and the foreign influences that mixed into the great melting pot of British imperialism. At the very least, The Far Pavilions will bring you a deeper understanding of the East and should serve as a reminder that “those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it “.The novel is written in the true tradition of “storytelling” (I doubt a tale this complex could be written any other way) so for those that prefer the “show don’t tell” approach, this may take an adjustment. The advantage to this style is that it grants the ability to see and understand the thinking and influences of every character so you gain a complete perspective of all the conflicting dynamics of life in that time and place in history. I would make a few suggestions to get the most out of this novel:1)tDo reference a map of Northern India and Afghanistan from 1850 to 1880 if you are not familiar with the geography. It will enhance your understanding of the journey immensely (while some editions include a map not all do) and there are other far better maps out there regardless.2)tThis is not a quick read by any stretch of the imagination. For those of us in the West, it takes some time to adjust to the character and geography names, caste rules, religious habits, tribes and foreign ownerships of territory. I do not recommend starting it without a good amount of time available to “sink into” the story.I think one of the hallmarks of a great novel is relevance and longevity. I was struck that a novel published in 1977, relating a tale 100 years past could be so relevant to today. This book is an education, beautifully told and painstakingly executed. I am grateful to have read it.
—Overthemoon
