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Where to Carry the Sound (Volume 23)
The stories in Where to Carry the Sound center on characters excavating their own unearthing family secrets, exploring inherited silences, and rediscovering what might have seemed lost to them. Wherever these characters find themselves—including brewing bootleg liquor in Prohibition-era Bombay, finding remnants of a new language at an archaeological dig in Andhra Pradesh, seeking mirages above the Arctic Circle, or setting up an outpost on the moon—each seeks to reconcile a past continually bleeding into the present and to forge a path of belonging to carry them into the future. “This collection of nine magical stories (including a few actual fairy tales) enchanted me. Many of the stories are set in India, and most of the narrators are women--photographers, bootleggers, archeologists, religious pilgrims, perfumers, and one lonely lunar caretaker. The writing is both lush and lean, and the images of marigolds, haunted villages, and man-killing tigers are memorable. The ends aren’t always happily-ever-after but are always satisfying. Where to Carry the Sound is a delight to read.”—Molly Giles, judge and author of The Home for Unwed Husbands
224 pages, Paperback
Published December 16, 2024
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June 13, 2025“Where to Carry the Sound” is a collection of nine short stories by Nina Sudhakar, winner of the Katherine Anne Porter prize for short fiction in 2024. Her work has appeared in Salamander, a magazine for poetry, fiction, and memoirs. She has also written two poetry chapbooks.
The stories are set in India and narrated by strong women who are trying to rediscover their identities and sense of belonging through secrets buried in their past. They represent Shakti, the feminine principle of power and energy in Hinduism. In the first story, we are introduced to Diya whose mother abandons her when she is just seven. She is brought up by her grandmother. Diya returns to her grandmother’s city after her passing, rekindling the superstitions and ghosts of her past, hoping her presence there “might spur a kind of revelation that gave a life purpose.” In the second story we meet a mother- daughter duo who run a clandestine bar from their home, the mother hardened by life’s knocks after her husband passes, and sharpening herself to protect her daughter who in turn cultivates her pragmatism and skill by staying close to her mother. Anika and Carine, one studying unearthed tablets with inscription in an unknown language, the other examining excavated skeletons, tell the story of human habitation, “proof of life or lives”. How interesting that every bone they find belongs to a woman. Then there’s the lone astronaut who is sent to space on a lunar mission, a one-person maintenance crew, the sole caretaker for a lunar colony she envisions. How unique is that!
An element of darkness pervades these stories, be it social customs, unsettling realities, or the shock and horror that’s latent in our society. There are a variety of subjects to pique one’s interest within these pages - Indian superstitions and mythology, fairy tale princesses, dark magic, bootlegging after the enactment of the Bombay Prohibition Act in 1949, photojournalism, death and bereavement, mirages and illusions in the Arctic circle, astronaut trainings and lunar missions, expedition to see a rare bloom that opens its petals each year in March, hunting a man-eating tigress, coastline erosion research, mother-daughter estrangement, the supernatural, and excavations and study of human remains and languages. With the focus on such diverse topics, it is obvious that many hours of research have gone into the writing of this interesting anthology.
Silence is prominent in some of the stories. “Silence, Diya had learned, could be translated any number of ways. Like a ghost, it was its own presence, large enough to fill a room or small enough to slip through a crack beneath a door. And, like a ghost, it was eternally famished, feeding on gaps in Diya’s childhood, growing sizeable off words that were swallowed or unsaid, questions never answered.” There’s silence in space in “The Peak of Eternal Light.” Even silence tells a story. Silence is not mere emptiness; it can be a significant and powerful tool for communication, reflection, and artistic expression.
The significance of the title may be found in these lines perhaps - “Our fingers described the sounds and inscribed them in shapes the men never could have imagined…We were a vessel for an ancient voice; we spoke the true names of what had always existed,” and those are the sounds we need to carry forth to posterity. The sounds and voices suppressed in childhood and later rediscovered and interpreted will have a profound effect on future generations.
I detect a trace of the autobiographical in “A working Theory of Practical Illusions”, where the narrator says, “what I’d loved about the law had always been its sense of possibilities - of fairness, justice, equity - but this had never seemed to manifest in what I learned or practiced.” Sudhakar, despite having a law degree, has followed her heart and chosen to be a writer. How lucky for her and the literary world! In a “Body More than Flesh and Bone”, Anika remarks , “the shame of losing a language remained an unspoken but necessary sacrifice.” Yet, “the roots of the words remained somehow embedded in her.” This could very well apply to Sudhakar who despite being born and brought up in Connecticut, is familiar with Sanskrit words and words from other Indian languages which she uses with ease throughout her stories.
My primary motivation is to capture the ineffable,” says Diya, and that is exactly what Sudhakar has done in her stories. She has opened our eyes to a different world, a world that her protagonists dream of, a difficult world not easy to unfold or describe. The underlying message is that love, grief, and yearning will always be with us. Although I had difficulty grasping some of the content, the book is an easy read. Sudhakar has a way with words and I highly recommend the book to anyone who likes short stories.
The stories are set in India and narrated by strong women who are trying to rediscover their identities and sense of belonging through secrets buried in their past. They represent Shakti, the feminine principle of power and energy in Hinduism. In the first story, we are introduced to Diya whose mother abandons her when she is just seven. She is brought up by her grandmother. Diya returns to her grandmother’s city after her passing, rekindling the superstitions and ghosts of her past, hoping her presence there “might spur a kind of revelation that gave a life purpose.” In the second story we meet a mother- daughter duo who run a clandestine bar from their home, the mother hardened by life’s knocks after her husband passes, and sharpening herself to protect her daughter who in turn cultivates her pragmatism and skill by staying close to her mother. Anika and Carine, one studying unearthed tablets with inscription in an unknown language, the other examining excavated skeletons, tell the story of human habitation, “proof of life or lives”. How interesting that every bone they find belongs to a woman. Then there’s the lone astronaut who is sent to space on a lunar mission, a one-person maintenance crew, the sole caretaker for a lunar colony she envisions. How unique is that!
An element of darkness pervades these stories, be it social customs, unsettling realities, or the shock and horror that’s latent in our society. There are a variety of subjects to pique one’s interest within these pages - Indian superstitions and mythology, fairy tale princesses, dark magic, bootlegging after the enactment of the Bombay Prohibition Act in 1949, photojournalism, death and bereavement, mirages and illusions in the Arctic circle, astronaut trainings and lunar missions, expedition to see a rare bloom that opens its petals each year in March, hunting a man-eating tigress, coastline erosion research, mother-daughter estrangement, the supernatural, and excavations and study of human remains and languages. With the focus on such diverse topics, it is obvious that many hours of research have gone into the writing of this interesting anthology.
Silence is prominent in some of the stories. “Silence, Diya had learned, could be translated any number of ways. Like a ghost, it was its own presence, large enough to fill a room or small enough to slip through a crack beneath a door. And, like a ghost, it was eternally famished, feeding on gaps in Diya’s childhood, growing sizeable off words that were swallowed or unsaid, questions never answered.” There’s silence in space in “The Peak of Eternal Light.” Even silence tells a story. Silence is not mere emptiness; it can be a significant and powerful tool for communication, reflection, and artistic expression.
The significance of the title may be found in these lines perhaps - “Our fingers described the sounds and inscribed them in shapes the men never could have imagined…We were a vessel for an ancient voice; we spoke the true names of what had always existed,” and those are the sounds we need to carry forth to posterity. The sounds and voices suppressed in childhood and later rediscovered and interpreted will have a profound effect on future generations.
I detect a trace of the autobiographical in “A working Theory of Practical Illusions”, where the narrator says, “what I’d loved about the law had always been its sense of possibilities - of fairness, justice, equity - but this had never seemed to manifest in what I learned or practiced.” Sudhakar, despite having a law degree, has followed her heart and chosen to be a writer. How lucky for her and the literary world! In a “Body More than Flesh and Bone”, Anika remarks , “the shame of losing a language remained an unspoken but necessary sacrifice.” Yet, “the roots of the words remained somehow embedded in her.” This could very well apply to Sudhakar who despite being born and brought up in Connecticut, is familiar with Sanskrit words and words from other Indian languages which she uses with ease throughout her stories.
My primary motivation is to capture the ineffable,” says Diya, and that is exactly what Sudhakar has done in her stories. She has opened our eyes to a different world, a world that her protagonists dream of, a difficult world not easy to unfold or describe. The underlying message is that love, grief, and yearning will always be with us. Although I had difficulty grasping some of the content, the book is an easy read. Sudhakar has a way with words and I highly recommend the book to anyone who likes short stories.
October 15, 2025
I saw the author give a talk at the Printer's Row book fair in Sept 2025 and wanted to learn more.
The stories are evocative and dreamy. Nina Sudhakar is not concerned with neat endings, or endings at all really. Many of the stories just sort of seem to blow away in the breeze. In other words they are light.
The main character is the same type of person - a woman interested in memory, tradition, loss, and female identity. The author, basically. There is often an inter-generational element. A wise grandmother, a negligent mother.
Dissatisfaction and wistful unhappiness hovers over the whole book.
The best story was about the grandmother who uses perfume to catch a tiger. That one at least has an ending.
The set-ups are imaginative: a lunar base, a prohibition bar, an archaeological site. I think the author most enjoys creating settings peopled by women. Whether there is a story or not seems incidental.
The author is an Indian expat living in comfortable circumstances in the US, and her tone is reminiscent of Jhumpa Lahiri whose circumstances are similar. But Sudhakar is more poetic where as Lahiri focuses on the dramatic.
The stories are evocative and dreamy. Nina Sudhakar is not concerned with neat endings, or endings at all really. Many of the stories just sort of seem to blow away in the breeze. In other words they are light.
The main character is the same type of person - a woman interested in memory, tradition, loss, and female identity. The author, basically. There is often an inter-generational element. A wise grandmother, a negligent mother.
Dissatisfaction and wistful unhappiness hovers over the whole book.
The best story was about the grandmother who uses perfume to catch a tiger. That one at least has an ending.
The set-ups are imaginative: a lunar base, a prohibition bar, an archaeological site. I think the author most enjoys creating settings peopled by women. Whether there is a story or not seems incidental.
The author is an Indian expat living in comfortable circumstances in the US, and her tone is reminiscent of Jhumpa Lahiri whose circumstances are similar. But Sudhakar is more poetic where as Lahiri focuses on the dramatic.
January 30, 2025
4.5. Easy decision to round up.
Excellent. More to come, but I'm usually not a huge short story fan...just want more time for the characters to build. Here, however, the author managed to build complex characters and distinct stories in short, tight packages. Esp good if you like strong women and stories about where we come from and where we go.
Excellent. More to come, but I'm usually not a huge short story fan...just want more time for the characters to build. Here, however, the author managed to build complex characters and distinct stories in short, tight packages. Esp good if you like strong women and stories about where we come from and where we go.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews