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The Spoiled Heart
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In one night, Nayan lost everything. Years later, his world is at risk again.
Nayan has fought hard to move on, losing himself in his political work, trying to make a better world. A fresh challenge arrives with newcomer Megha, who threatens not just his career ambitions, but his ideals.
Meanwhile the enigmatic Helen Fletcher returns to Chesterfield and Nayan finds himself growing close to her. But Helen carries secrets which connect her to Nayan in ways he doesn’t realise.
The Spoiled Heart is an explosive story of how a few words or a single action – to one person careless, to another, charged – can trigger a cascade of unimaginable consequences.
’One of Britain’s finest writers…page-turning’ Observer
‘Withheld revelations and dark secrets...plot-packed, propulsive’ New York Times
‘Gripping...irresistible...brilliant’ The Times
'Utterly compelling, original and very moving' Tessa Hadley
‘Moving and revelatory’ Financial Times
‘Smart and sophisticatedly written’ Daily Telegraph
‘Perfectly paced…gripping’ Guardian
2024 Sunjeev Sahota (P)2024 Penguin Audio
In one night, Nayan lost everything. Years later, his world is at risk again.
Nayan has fought hard to move on, losing himself in his political work, trying to make a better world. A fresh challenge arrives with newcomer Megha, who threatens not just his career ambitions, but his ideals.
Meanwhile the enigmatic Helen Fletcher returns to Chesterfield and Nayan finds himself growing close to her. But Helen carries secrets which connect her to Nayan in ways he doesn’t realise.
The Spoiled Heart is an explosive story of how a few words or a single action – to one person careless, to another, charged – can trigger a cascade of unimaginable consequences.
’One of Britain’s finest writers…page-turning’ Observer
‘Withheld revelations and dark secrets...plot-packed, propulsive’ New York Times
‘Gripping...irresistible...brilliant’ The Times
'Utterly compelling, original and very moving' Tessa Hadley
‘Moving and revelatory’ Financial Times
‘Smart and sophisticatedly written’ Daily Telegraph
‘Perfectly paced…gripping’ Guardian
2024 Sunjeev Sahota (P)2024 Penguin Audio
Audible Audio
First published April 16, 2024
175 people are currently reading
8037 people want to read
About the author
Sunjeev Sahota
12 books383 followersSunjeev Sahota is a British novelist. Sahota was born in 1981 in Derby, and his family moved to Chesterfield when he was seven years old. His paternal grandparents had emigrated to Britain from the Punjab in 1966. After finishing school, Sahota studied mathematics at Imperial College London. As of January 2011, he was working in marketing for the insurance company Aviva.
Sahota had not read a novel until he was 18 years old, when he read Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children while visiting relatives in India before starting university. After Midnight's Children, Sahota went on to read The God of Small Things, A Suitable Boy and The Remains of the Day. In an interview in January 2011, he stated:
It was like I was making up for lost time – not that I had to catch up, but it was as though I couldn't quite believe this world of storytelling I had found and I wanted to get as much of it down me as I possibly could.
In 2013 he was included in the Granta list of 20 best young British writers.
Sahota's first novel, Ours are the Streets, was published in January 2011 by Picador. He wrote the book in the evenings and at weekends because of his day job. The novel tells the story of a British Pakistani youth who becomes a suicide bomber. His second novel, The Year of the Runaways, about the experience of illegal immigrants in Britain, was published in June 2015.
Sahota had not read a novel until he was 18 years old, when he read Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children while visiting relatives in India before starting university. After Midnight's Children, Sahota went on to read The God of Small Things, A Suitable Boy and The Remains of the Day. In an interview in January 2011, he stated:
It was like I was making up for lost time – not that I had to catch up, but it was as though I couldn't quite believe this world of storytelling I had found and I wanted to get as much of it down me as I possibly could.
In 2013 he was included in the Granta list of 20 best young British writers.
Sahota's first novel, Ours are the Streets, was published in January 2011 by Picador. He wrote the book in the evenings and at weekends because of his day job. The novel tells the story of a British Pakistani youth who becomes a suicide bomber. His second novel, The Year of the Runaways, about the experience of illegal immigrants in Britain, was published in June 2015.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 193 reviews
April 20, 2024
Me again, banging on about Sunjeev Sahota. I won’t stop until you read him.
Across the pond, this argument isn’t so hard to make. A decade ago, Granta named Sahota one of the 20 Best Young British Novelists, along with Sarah Hall, Naomi Alderman and Zadie Smith. At the time, Granta editor John Freeman predicted that these authors “will be exceptions to the general rule of irrelevance faced by writers today.” That exception has certainly remained true for Sahota, who was nominated for the Booker Prize in 2015 for “The Year of the Runaways” and again in 2021 for “China Room.”
His new book, “The Spoiled Heart,” finds a timeless imprint in the hot metal of the moment. The story explores identity politics, that complicated intersection of race, gender and sexual orientation that, depending on your point of view, promotes equity or sanctifies discrimination. It’s the kind of treacherous novel that Philip Roth might have written — and almost did with “The Human Stain.”
But I already regret that comparison. Although Sahota is just as clear-eyed as Roth about the crosscurrents of tribalism that contort our lives, his tone is always plaintive. No matter how deeply he sympathizes with characters’ grievances, he never sweats with the kind of rage that fueled Roth.
At the center of “The Spoiled Heart” is an affable, well-respected manager named Nayan Olak. When the novel opens, he puts up his name for general secretary of Britain’s largest. . . .
To read the rest of this review, go to The Washington Post:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/books/...
Across the pond, this argument isn’t so hard to make. A decade ago, Granta named Sahota one of the 20 Best Young British Novelists, along with Sarah Hall, Naomi Alderman and Zadie Smith. At the time, Granta editor John Freeman predicted that these authors “will be exceptions to the general rule of irrelevance faced by writers today.” That exception has certainly remained true for Sahota, who was nominated for the Booker Prize in 2015 for “The Year of the Runaways” and again in 2021 for “China Room.”
His new book, “The Spoiled Heart,” finds a timeless imprint in the hot metal of the moment. The story explores identity politics, that complicated intersection of race, gender and sexual orientation that, depending on your point of view, promotes equity or sanctifies discrimination. It’s the kind of treacherous novel that Philip Roth might have written — and almost did with “The Human Stain.”
But I already regret that comparison. Although Sahota is just as clear-eyed as Roth about the crosscurrents of tribalism that contort our lives, his tone is always plaintive. No matter how deeply he sympathizes with characters’ grievances, he never sweats with the kind of rage that fueled Roth.
At the center of “The Spoiled Heart” is an affable, well-respected manager named Nayan Olak. When the novel opens, he puts up his name for general secretary of Britain’s largest. . . .
To read the rest of this review, go to The Washington Post:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/books/...
April 9, 2024
Did I just read the winner of this year's Booker Prize?! HEART follows Nayan Olak, a man who lost his family in a fire 20 years ago. Now, he is running for general secretary in his union. Nayan finds himself inexplicably drawn to a mysterious white woman named Helen, who has returned to town after decades of absence. As Nayan's involvement with Helen deepens and his campaign progresses, his rivalry with Megha, a younger and wealthier woman also running for the same position, spirals out of control. At the heart of the mystery is the connection between Nayan and Helen and all that threatens to spoil his chances of winning.
There is so much I love about HEART: its multilayered examination of equity and equality, the nuanced exploration of solidarity, the lyrical prose of loss and belonging, and so much more. I don't think I've ever read something that made me so uncomfortable yet profoundly illuminating about my own political views.
While HEART is set in the UK, the rivalry between Nayan's "working class vs. the elite" and Megha's "we can't be colorblind within blue-collar workers" reflects much of the class & generational division within left-leaning politics in the US. Even though HEART goes deep into differing political views about building solidarity within the working class, Sahota uses several plot twists to blend politics into the narrative seamlessly, and HEART never reads didactic.
Nayan's question of whether Megha truly wants to build a community or just likes to hear herself talk, "woke" & young white people schooling POC about racism, and cancel culture turn violent are all aspects of how older leftists resist the new waves of activism. Similarly, Megha's experience of constantly being gaslit because of her race/gender/age, and Nayan's complacency within the comfort of white colleagues' approval are why younger liberals feel their voices aren't represented. I can go on and on about the brilliant debates on identity politics, representation, DEI programs, etc.—I was completely blown away by the nuanced exploration of liberal politics and find myself questioning my complicity & complacency.
Another fascinating aspect of HEART is the "mystery" of Nayan and Helen's connections. While this is the main plot-driving force, because of the meandering writing and narrative-within-a-narrative style, the mystery is very slow-moving and isn't really the focus until the last 20%. I don't want to give anything away, but Nayan and Helen's relationship also ties nicely into the aspect of one's sense of belonging when muddled with internalized racism.
HEART is written from Nayan's acquaintance's perspective, making it another intriguing aspect of the novel. While some may think it overly contrive, through the lens of a hyper-aware unreliable narrator, the readers realize that one can't fully know another person's political motivations. Furthermore, I appreciate the distance created by this unique narrative style that enables the readers to critique each character's shortcomings. At the end of the day, no one in HEART is fully good or bad; they're all just lonely individuals trying to survive.
There's so much more I want to say about HEART, but I'll stop here and encourage lovers of lit fic and those seeking a layered story about solidarity to pick this one up. Because I love it so much, I'm not sure if it'll be nominated for Booker (jkjk), but I'd love to see HEART at least on the shortlist, if not outright win it!
There is so much I love about HEART: its multilayered examination of equity and equality, the nuanced exploration of solidarity, the lyrical prose of loss and belonging, and so much more. I don't think I've ever read something that made me so uncomfortable yet profoundly illuminating about my own political views.
While HEART is set in the UK, the rivalry between Nayan's "working class vs. the elite" and Megha's "we can't be colorblind within blue-collar workers" reflects much of the class & generational division within left-leaning politics in the US. Even though HEART goes deep into differing political views about building solidarity within the working class, Sahota uses several plot twists to blend politics into the narrative seamlessly, and HEART never reads didactic.
Nayan's question of whether Megha truly wants to build a community or just likes to hear herself talk, "woke" & young white people schooling POC about racism, and cancel culture turn violent are all aspects of how older leftists resist the new waves of activism. Similarly, Megha's experience of constantly being gaslit because of her race/gender/age, and Nayan's complacency within the comfort of white colleagues' approval are why younger liberals feel their voices aren't represented. I can go on and on about the brilliant debates on identity politics, representation, DEI programs, etc.—I was completely blown away by the nuanced exploration of liberal politics and find myself questioning my complicity & complacency.
Another fascinating aspect of HEART is the "mystery" of Nayan and Helen's connections. While this is the main plot-driving force, because of the meandering writing and narrative-within-a-narrative style, the mystery is very slow-moving and isn't really the focus until the last 20%. I don't want to give anything away, but Nayan and Helen's relationship also ties nicely into the aspect of one's sense of belonging when muddled with internalized racism.
HEART is written from Nayan's acquaintance's perspective, making it another intriguing aspect of the novel. While some may think it overly contrive, through the lens of a hyper-aware unreliable narrator, the readers realize that one can't fully know another person's political motivations. Furthermore, I appreciate the distance created by this unique narrative style that enables the readers to critique each character's shortcomings. At the end of the day, no one in HEART is fully good or bad; they're all just lonely individuals trying to survive.
There's so much more I want to say about HEART, but I'll stop here and encourage lovers of lit fic and those seeking a layered story about solidarity to pick this one up. Because I love it so much, I'm not sure if it'll be nominated for Booker (jkjk), but I'd love to see HEART at least on the shortlist, if not outright win it!
July 19, 2024
This is a highly political novel thematically. Given the current state of world affairs - the predominance of misinformation, of spin, and the emotional manipulation of the voting public for parliamentary purposes - it was even more unpleasant for me than Sahota had designed it to be.
The writing is, as has always been the case with this author, often much better than average. There are a few interesting twists and turns to the story line. Even so, there are problems with pacing and with sometimes inelegant shifts in point of view. I anticipate that less masochistic readers will DNF this at a fairly high rate.
The writing is, as has always been the case with this author, often much better than average. There are a few interesting twists and turns to the story line. Even so, there are problems with pacing and with sometimes inelegant shifts in point of view. I anticipate that less masochistic readers will DNF this at a fairly high rate.
May 4, 2024
I bought this newly released novel—already touted by some as a potential Booker candidate—for no more exalted reasons than that it is the first novel I have ever heard of to be set in the Midlands market town of Chesterfield, not far from where I (mainly) grew up. Sahota captures the place pretty well, especially the contrast between the drab, post-industrial godforsakenness of the town itself and the austerely glorious limestone landscapes of the Peak District not far off, into which various characters sensibly escape at points.
It's the first novel I have read by this well-regarded novelist and I was reasonably impressed, though not blown away. Sahota rather bravely takes on an important theme of our time, which I haven’t seen dramatized before in fiction: the tension between traditional socialist perspectives that assume universal working-class solidarity and newer identity-based perspectives that privilege factors like gender and race. The plot has the Sikh-background protagonist of the novel, Nayan Olak, a forty-something factory worker and union man, run for the post of General Secretary of the fictional union Unify, against a younger female colleague from a more privileged background, Megha Sharma. The election story, complete with predictable skulduggery on both sides, was for me the most compelling part of the narrative, with the toxic echo chamber effects of social media especially well portrayed. I liked that Sahota was prepared to give space to both sides of the ideological division at the heart of the novel, and show us the emotional, as well as the philosophical and political stakes, of both.
Woven together with this narrative is the more personal narrative of Nayan’s haunting by a family tragedy and his relationship with an abrasive Chesterfield contemporary of his, Helen Fletcher, who has returned to her home town after decades away with a grown-up son and a family-pack of dark secrets. Woven together, in turn, with these two narratives, is the thin meta-tale of a novelist, Sajjan Dhanoa, also originally from the town, though long escaped to London. Sajjan becomes fascinated by Nayan and Helen and sets himself to investigate their backstories, with a view to retelling them as a fiction that is presumably the novel we are reading. We hear most of Nayan’s tale in an extended flashback that we are supposed to believe is based on Nayan’s own—predictably unreliable—recounting of his story to Sajjan.
I think I can understand why Sahota complicated his core story of the union election with the more personal Nayan-Helen narration. It lends depth to Nayan’s characterisation, and it broadens the novel’s emotional range. I guess you could also say that the mildly postmodern metaliterary complications Sahota adds through the Sajjan figure help lend a faint footling of formal sophistication to what is at root a conventional realist novel. Taken together, the Nayan-Helen story and the Sajjan-Nayan story also manage to combine to add a mystery element to the novel, presumably to add to its stickiness after the election story comes to an end.
Understanding the logic of a novelist’s choices, though, does not always mean enjoying them—indeed, you could say that readers are more likely to apply this type of analysis if a novel doesn’t grip them viscerally and sweep them along. I found some of The Spoiled Heart’s narrative machinery rather laboured and clunky and few of the characters except for Nayan came alive for me. I wondered whether the novel might have worked better if Sahota had had more faith in his gripping and highly topical political narrative and given it more room to breathe.
It's the first novel I have read by this well-regarded novelist and I was reasonably impressed, though not blown away. Sahota rather bravely takes on an important theme of our time, which I haven’t seen dramatized before in fiction: the tension between traditional socialist perspectives that assume universal working-class solidarity and newer identity-based perspectives that privilege factors like gender and race. The plot has the Sikh-background protagonist of the novel, Nayan Olak, a forty-something factory worker and union man, run for the post of General Secretary of the fictional union Unify, against a younger female colleague from a more privileged background, Megha Sharma. The election story, complete with predictable skulduggery on both sides, was for me the most compelling part of the narrative, with the toxic echo chamber effects of social media especially well portrayed. I liked that Sahota was prepared to give space to both sides of the ideological division at the heart of the novel, and show us the emotional, as well as the philosophical and political stakes, of both.
Woven together with this narrative is the more personal narrative of Nayan’s haunting by a family tragedy and his relationship with an abrasive Chesterfield contemporary of his, Helen Fletcher, who has returned to her home town after decades away with a grown-up son and a family-pack of dark secrets. Woven together, in turn, with these two narratives, is the thin meta-tale of a novelist, Sajjan Dhanoa, also originally from the town, though long escaped to London. Sajjan becomes fascinated by Nayan and Helen and sets himself to investigate their backstories, with a view to retelling them as a fiction that is presumably the novel we are reading. We hear most of Nayan’s tale in an extended flashback that we are supposed to believe is based on Nayan’s own—predictably unreliable—recounting of his story to Sajjan.
I think I can understand why Sahota complicated his core story of the union election with the more personal Nayan-Helen narration. It lends depth to Nayan’s characterisation, and it broadens the novel’s emotional range. I guess you could also say that the mildly postmodern metaliterary complications Sahota adds through the Sajjan figure help lend a faint footling of formal sophistication to what is at root a conventional realist novel. Taken together, the Nayan-Helen story and the Sajjan-Nayan story also manage to combine to add a mystery element to the novel, presumably to add to its stickiness after the election story comes to an end.
Understanding the logic of a novelist’s choices, though, does not always mean enjoying them—indeed, you could say that readers are more likely to apply this type of analysis if a novel doesn’t grip them viscerally and sweep them along. I found some of The Spoiled Heart’s narrative machinery rather laboured and clunky and few of the characters except for Nayan came alive for me. I wondered whether the novel might have worked better if Sahota had had more faith in his gripping and highly topical political narrative and given it more room to breathe.
April 18, 2024
Such a sad book, on all levels. I read this pretty fast and was invested in the storyline but in the end I wasn’t completely convinced.
Thank you Vintage UK and Netgalley for the ARC.
Thank you Vintage UK and Netgalley for the ARC.
March 13, 2024
My first book by this author and I have to say I really enjoyed it.
A story of race and class, of grief, trauma and love, all set against the backdrop of a workers union, it’s a fascinating look at the human condition in all its forms.
There are many story arcs with trauma, secrets and regret being a recurring theme but also a need to do what’s right, or what the protagonists perceive to be right. The racism and classism isn’t as black and white here as you would think. Everyone is shown up at some point for their preconceptions and prejudices, even if they aren’t aware of them.
A really interesting book. I loved the writing. Very real characters for the most part. There is a certain melancholy that runs throughout that makes the happier times even sweeter.
Many thanks to the publisher for the ARC through Netgalley.
A story of race and class, of grief, trauma and love, all set against the backdrop of a workers union, it’s a fascinating look at the human condition in all its forms.
There are many story arcs with trauma, secrets and regret being a recurring theme but also a need to do what’s right, or what the protagonists perceive to be right. The racism and classism isn’t as black and white here as you would think. Everyone is shown up at some point for their preconceptions and prejudices, even if they aren’t aware of them.
A really interesting book. I loved the writing. Very real characters for the most part. There is a certain melancholy that runs throughout that makes the happier times even sweeter.
Many thanks to the publisher for the ARC through Netgalley.
June 22, 2024
The nuanced discussions on liberal politics, new forms of activism, cancel culture, and even love were very interesting and well-crafted. However, I thought the characters besides the protagonist could’ve been fleshed out more. Some parts of the book were tedious and could’ve focused on that (maybe instead of on the omniscient narrator, whose purpose I didn’t fully see). I wasn’t too hooked on the mystery plot line either. It was slow-moving, predictable, and ultimately unsatisfying. I expected an explosive conclusion that never really occurred. However, I know the book’s intention wasn’t to provide any comfort or satisfaction. It was, in contrast, a very uncomfortable read, but a super interesting one!
June 6, 2024
I’ll write a real review after book club but for now I’ll just say I didn’t like the first person omniscient narrator and how quickly he jumped around different points of view. Also the way women were written was weird, but I wonder if that was the point? Far more likely it’s run of the mill misogyny but. Also I can’t really tell what this book is arguing for with the “false” accusations??? I didn’t have a great time reading this but I think this will be a great one to club, a lot to get into.
March 10, 2024
Thanks to NetGalley for my advance copy.
Set in Sheffield, The Spoiled Heart is about Nayan Olak, a middle aged man whose mum and four-year-old son were killed in a fire twenty years ago. We’re introduced to Nayan by Sajjan, a writer who knew him when he was young and is intrigued how this popular, well liked Union rep has become a YouTube warrior living alone in a small studio flat.
Through visits during Covid lockdowns, Sajjan learns more about Nayan’s life story. Sajjan is our narrator and, in an interesting move that I did enjoy but which took some getting used to, narrates the perspectives of not only Nayan but also Helen, a woman who has returned to the area with her teenage son Brandon, and Megha, a colleague at the Union who challenges him for election as General Secretary.
The plot has two strands - Nayan’s personal relationships and his growing closeness to Helen and Brandon - as well as a more political angle. The latter involves Nayan’s campaign to become General Secretary of the Union for which he has been a member for decades. He is challenged by a young, well educated and ‘privileged’ Black woman called Megha.
I enjoyed the unfolding of the personal story and the fact that Nayan may be an unreliable narrator of his own story kept me interested. The ‘reveal’ at the end of the book was perhaps a little underwhelming but overall it was engaging and believable.
For me, the more political elements that explored identity politics and the intersection of class and race were less well done. Megha’s characterisation felt quite weak in comparison to other characters and I wasn’t always entirely clear of her motivations. I thought she lacked depth and seemed to be included as a foil to Nayan, rather than as a compelling character in her own right.
Overall, I enjoyed the dialogue, the majority of the characterisation and the pacing of the story and would definitely recommend.
Set in Sheffield, The Spoiled Heart is about Nayan Olak, a middle aged man whose mum and four-year-old son were killed in a fire twenty years ago. We’re introduced to Nayan by Sajjan, a writer who knew him when he was young and is intrigued how this popular, well liked Union rep has become a YouTube warrior living alone in a small studio flat.
Through visits during Covid lockdowns, Sajjan learns more about Nayan’s life story. Sajjan is our narrator and, in an interesting move that I did enjoy but which took some getting used to, narrates the perspectives of not only Nayan but also Helen, a woman who has returned to the area with her teenage son Brandon, and Megha, a colleague at the Union who challenges him for election as General Secretary.
The plot has two strands - Nayan’s personal relationships and his growing closeness to Helen and Brandon - as well as a more political angle. The latter involves Nayan’s campaign to become General Secretary of the Union for which he has been a member for decades. He is challenged by a young, well educated and ‘privileged’ Black woman called Megha.
I enjoyed the unfolding of the personal story and the fact that Nayan may be an unreliable narrator of his own story kept me interested. The ‘reveal’ at the end of the book was perhaps a little underwhelming but overall it was engaging and believable.
For me, the more political elements that explored identity politics and the intersection of class and race were less well done. Megha’s characterisation felt quite weak in comparison to other characters and I wasn’t always entirely clear of her motivations. I thought she lacked depth and seemed to be included as a foil to Nayan, rather than as a compelling character in her own right.
Overall, I enjoyed the dialogue, the majority of the characterisation and the pacing of the story and would definitely recommend.
May 4, 2024
4.5 stars Excellent storytelling swirling around themes touching on love, secrets, grief, racism, and class. Nayan is a long-time leader in England's biggest labor union and decides to run for general secretary. Opposing him is Megha, a young upstart. Both are of Indian descent, and they clash over race, class, and politics as well as their candidacy. At the same time, Nayan is getting to know the mysteriously aloof Helen, who with her son has moved back to her and Nayan's hometown after many years away. Both Nayan and Helen have very painful pasts that unfurl through the book in fits and starts, just as would happen in getting to know someone.
It took me a bit to get pulled into this story but when I did, I was super eager to find out how it would all happen. Sahota's writing is smooth and the book is beautifully constructed. Sometimes it was grim enough that I had to take a break.
Most of the time I loved that it was told by a narrator, Sajjan, who was a bit of a voyeur of all the drama around Nayan, Helen, Megha, and the others, but occasionally it seemed far fetched. For instance, how could Sajjan know (or even guess) what Claudia was thinking during her speech, when I don't recall that he interviewed her?
My biggest complaint was that I wish I hadn't read the jacket copy--it gives away something that doesn't really begin to unfold until about halfway through the book.
Esh Alladi read the audiobook and did a great job with the various voices and accents, though I sometimes missed a switch from Nayan's story to Sajjan's voice.
It took me a bit to get pulled into this story but when I did, I was super eager to find out how it would all happen. Sahota's writing is smooth and the book is beautifully constructed. Sometimes it was grim enough that I had to take a break.
Most of the time I loved that it was told by a narrator, Sajjan, who was a bit of a voyeur of all the drama around Nayan, Helen, Megha, and the others, but occasionally it seemed far fetched. For instance, how could Sajjan know (or even guess) what Claudia was thinking during her speech, when I don't recall that he interviewed her?
My biggest complaint was that I wish I hadn't read the jacket copy--it gives away something that doesn't really begin to unfold until about halfway through the book.
Esh Alladi read the audiobook and did a great job with the various voices and accents, though I sometimes missed a switch from Nayan's story to Sajjan's voice.
April 23, 2024
Here’s a novel that isn’t afraid to jump right into current political debates…the questions, concerns, and controversies at the center of the novel couldn’t be more relevant. And it’s a great success of the novel that it’s not one-sided…it leaves it to the reader to come to one’s own conclusions. There’s a very human story here as well…no spoiler to say that this is a tragedy in the classic sense, with a flawed protagonist fated by his own hubris. It’s a very compelling novel. I have some questions about the motivations of certain characters…and there is perhaps a level of exaggeration at points—would all these situations play out in such extreme ways? The ending too seems more complicated than it needs to be. But these are minor issues…this is a novel that satisfies as both a timely and timeless literary achievement.
June 26, 2024
I struggled sometimes to understand who the narrator was in this story until I found out there were two. I found the writing a bit dense at times which took away my enjoyment a bit…I had to really concentrate in case I missed something. Must say though the story was unique. Many books these days I feel I have read before, not because I actually have, but because they are not original. Is it because I am just getting too picky? Do others feel this too? I wonder!
Read
July 14, 2024DNF.
I waited for this for a long time, but just couldn’t connect after reading 70 pages. I hope there of those of you who read it and found it meaningful.
I waited for this for a long time, but just couldn’t connect after reading 70 pages. I hope there of those of you who read it and found it meaningful.
July 28, 2024
4.5
This is an amazing book and coincidentally I’ve just listened to a lecture by Bernardine Evaristo who talked about politics, class and the experience of women of colour. This book seemed very different to ‘China Room’ but I’m sure if I reread it there are links. Apart from the themes, characterisations and relationships this book is a very compelling suspenseful read involving a past traumatic event and I didn’t foresee the last twist. I hope this wins some literary prizes - it made a big impression on me.
Booker list in 24 hours - fingers crossed
This is an amazing book and coincidentally I’ve just listened to a lecture by Bernardine Evaristo who talked about politics, class and the experience of women of colour. This book seemed very different to ‘China Room’ but I’m sure if I reread it there are links. Apart from the themes, characterisations and relationships this book is a very compelling suspenseful read involving a past traumatic event and I didn’t foresee the last twist. I hope this wins some literary prizes - it made a big impression on me.
Booker list in 24 hours - fingers crossed
April 29, 2024
this was an interesting meditation on identity politics, race and class in the uk. i loved reading about nayan and brandon! i enjoyed the tangled situation between the characters, however it was quite hard to follow at times. received a proof copy from vintage
May 9, 2024
Tender, heartbreaking and electrifying—a story about how our hearts are ruined by the disingenuous brutalities we impose on each other, instead of simply talking kindly and bridging distances. A very timely book about our alarming sense of disconnection from our realities as well as each other.
November 13, 2025
Sunjeev Sahota accomplishes much in The Spoiled Heart, largely evidenced by 1) being cited as a Booker contender by the Times, 2) the amount of confusion reflected in the myriad of 2-3 star Goodreads reviews (I’d argue the 1 star reviewers either properly understood the book enough to hate it or didn’t remotely give it a fighting chance), and 3) the numerous distinct essay topics ChatGPT could suggest on what really is just a medium-size book. The contentious question is did he accomplish it WELL.
Was Sahota’s choice to contrast Nayan’s personal grief (of losing his mother and young son in a fire) against his professional strife (as a reputably hardworking union man in a losing political battle) a nuanced illustration of the complexities of guilt, or is it just trauma porn? Was the debate governing Nayan’s campaign for general secretary a politically relevant commentary on the circular nature of competing within an organization or was it a sardonic parody of the spectrum between identity politics and the all-lives-matter argument? Was Nayan’s (albeit short-lived) romance with Helen (the woman responsible for the fire killing Nayan’s family) a poetic reminder that we’ll never truly be rid of our past or a convenient plot device appealing to a perverse irony? Sahota writes a compelling enough story that to answer any of these questions would elicit, at very least, an interesting conversation, even if motivated more by opinion than citation. However, what cannot go unaddressed is that Sahota writes his novel through a first-person narrator, whose tone shapes the lasting impact the reader has on the events that give rise to these questions in the first place.
The narrator is, as our protagonist Nayan puts it in their first meeting, “Sajjan Dhanoa. Local writer. Except there’s nothing local about you. Got out to London as quick as you could and never looked back. And now lives within spitting distance, spitting away, building a career out of making us look contemptible”. Sajjan, a writer as mentioned, stumbles back to his hometown and through some circumstances is motivated to meet and interview his childhood neighbor, now seemingly unsuccessful YouTube political personality. There’s a tone of reverence Sajjan has for Nayan which never goes away - a relic borne out of childlike adoration for an older brother figure in his youth. This respect, which is upheld by Sajjan’s... call it writer’s curiosity - or even desperation - to know and understand Nayan and his story is faithfully communicated to the reader. Sajjan cannot fulfill the archetype of an unreliable narrator because as soon as something becomes clear to him, it becomes clear to us. We can attest to this from the elements that arise out of order - we realize alongside Sajjan that Pyara (Nayan’s dad who used to sleep around) is the same as Perry (who used to hang around Helen’s mom) and that Helen had admitted her part in the fire to Mal, the bartender who took her in after she left town, long before we learn of what truly happened the night of the fire.
The true unreliable narrator is Nayan. Everything Nayan tells Sajjan, Sajjan faithfully informs us, even if slightly distorted by his admiration for Nayan (...and Sahota’s understanding that some amount of omniscience is required to get to know our characters better). It is Nayan that takes a few shortcuts in his storytelling (not telling Sajjan Helen started the fire, denying that he loved her son Brandon, etc.), and this is supported by a history of misremembering events in his favor (grabbing Megha’s wrist at the Diwali party). At the (spoiled) heart of it all, this realization is what drives the worthiness of the novel - Nayan can’t be preserved in Sajjan’s portraiture, he (and his choice of omission) is continually informing it. The novel ends as Sajjan looks to Helen to paint the rest of the picture. But Sahota leaves Nayan Olak’s misfortune as ours to contemplate.
Was Sahota’s choice to contrast Nayan’s personal grief (of losing his mother and young son in a fire) against his professional strife (as a reputably hardworking union man in a losing political battle) a nuanced illustration of the complexities of guilt, or is it just trauma porn? Was the debate governing Nayan’s campaign for general secretary a politically relevant commentary on the circular nature of competing within an organization or was it a sardonic parody of the spectrum between identity politics and the all-lives-matter argument? Was Nayan’s (albeit short-lived) romance with Helen (the woman responsible for the fire killing Nayan’s family) a poetic reminder that we’ll never truly be rid of our past or a convenient plot device appealing to a perverse irony? Sahota writes a compelling enough story that to answer any of these questions would elicit, at very least, an interesting conversation, even if motivated more by opinion than citation. However, what cannot go unaddressed is that Sahota writes his novel through a first-person narrator, whose tone shapes the lasting impact the reader has on the events that give rise to these questions in the first place.
The narrator is, as our protagonist Nayan puts it in their first meeting, “Sajjan Dhanoa. Local writer. Except there’s nothing local about you. Got out to London as quick as you could and never looked back. And now lives within spitting distance, spitting away, building a career out of making us look contemptible”. Sajjan, a writer as mentioned, stumbles back to his hometown and through some circumstances is motivated to meet and interview his childhood neighbor, now seemingly unsuccessful YouTube political personality. There’s a tone of reverence Sajjan has for Nayan which never goes away - a relic borne out of childlike adoration for an older brother figure in his youth. This respect, which is upheld by Sajjan’s... call it writer’s curiosity - or even desperation - to know and understand Nayan and his story is faithfully communicated to the reader. Sajjan cannot fulfill the archetype of an unreliable narrator because as soon as something becomes clear to him, it becomes clear to us. We can attest to this from the elements that arise out of order - we realize alongside Sajjan that Pyara (Nayan’s dad who used to sleep around) is the same as Perry (who used to hang around Helen’s mom) and that Helen had admitted her part in the fire to Mal, the bartender who took her in after she left town, long before we learn of what truly happened the night of the fire.
The true unreliable narrator is Nayan. Everything Nayan tells Sajjan, Sajjan faithfully informs us, even if slightly distorted by his admiration for Nayan (...and Sahota’s understanding that some amount of omniscience is required to get to know our characters better). It is Nayan that takes a few shortcuts in his storytelling (not telling Sajjan Helen started the fire, denying that he loved her son Brandon, etc.), and this is supported by a history of misremembering events in his favor (grabbing Megha’s wrist at the Diwali party). At the (spoiled) heart of it all, this realization is what drives the worthiness of the novel - Nayan can’t be preserved in Sajjan’s portraiture, he (and his choice of omission) is continually informing it. The novel ends as Sajjan looks to Helen to paint the rest of the picture. But Sahota leaves Nayan Olak’s misfortune as ours to contemplate.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
June 9, 2024
Super thought-provoking, deep dive on “denunciation culture” (love that UK term). I think a lot of the political conversations were incredibly well-crafted and balanced so the reader could understand the nuance between both sides, besides the outwardly reprehensible stuff. It took me until 40% to get into this one bc I didn’t care for the relationship at the beginning and just wanted to know about the fire and the bubbling conflict between Megha and Nayan. Excited for book club today - I think it will be a very passionate discussion.
September 4, 2024
I enjoy a good political novel. This is a nuanced exploration of identity and class, set largely around the election of a new general secretary for a trade union. There are personal themes of loss and family too, with complex and flawed characters. The setting of Chesterfield and Sheffield is vividly drawn.
February 7, 2025
***** MINOR SPOILERS FOLLOW ******
This starts out as a simple, third person narrative about Nayan Olak, an Asian union official who has lost his mother and young son in a mysterious fire. He is pursuing the position of union general secretary, running against a well-born Asian woman and union newcomer, who runs DEI initiatives for the Union and sees everything through the lens of race. He is also pursuing a white woman, Helen, single mother to a teenage son, who has returned to their hometown after an equally mysterious absence. Race, politics and racial politics sit front and center of this book.
Rather quickly, it becomes clear that this story is being told by the author, Sajjan Dhanoa, an old school friend of Nayan, now a writer, returning to Chesterfield, looking for a story to tell and who has interviewed all parties involved after the events of the book have unfolded. It also becomes clear at the end of the book that the author's own family have had a greater influence on the earlier events than has been revealed by Nayan.
Having had a day to reflect on the book, I'm still not sure what to make of it. Is it satire? It certainly feels like it at times or is it an honest attempt to discuss the fracture of left-wing politics. The white anti-racist 'allies' of both Megha and Helen son's accuser (in an earlier incident) are comically self-unaware and Megha, the DEI supervisor and an ambitious daughter of privilege, is hideously self-righteous and deceitful in her efforts to win the union election and one of the most dislikable characters I've come across recently. The toxic use of social media and cancel culture to distort, bully and censure is chillingly portrayed. Nayan himself is a caricature of a 1970's shop steward and could easily have been modeled on the Peter Sellers shop steward Fred Kite in I'm alright, Jack. The debate between the pair at the election conference (replete with outbursts from audience members) ends with a savage takedown of identity politics.
Helen, Nayan's nominal love interest, while perhaps physically appealing, seems to have advanced from moody teenager (with shitty life) to even moodier adult (with equally shitty life). She rejects his advances both rudely and repeatedly while he persists in trying to both woo her and help her (and her son) out. Her (ulterior) motives for (finally) becoming involved with Nayan just don't hold up to any logical scrutiny and she just doesn't really have anything of value to say or add to the story.
More interesting to me are the children of the protagonists-- Brandon, Claudia and Buddy -- that inhabit the fringes of this novel but, alas, this isn't really their story. Whilst I enjoyed the book's structure, the dialogue often felt clunky and stilted -- was I reading a Union DEI pamphlet? -- and this just wasn't a Booker Prize standard read for me.
2.5 STARS
This starts out as a simple, third person narrative about Nayan Olak, an Asian union official who has lost his mother and young son in a mysterious fire. He is pursuing the position of union general secretary, running against a well-born Asian woman and union newcomer, who runs DEI initiatives for the Union and sees everything through the lens of race. He is also pursuing a white woman, Helen, single mother to a teenage son, who has returned to their hometown after an equally mysterious absence. Race, politics and racial politics sit front and center of this book.
Rather quickly, it becomes clear that this story is being told by the author, Sajjan Dhanoa, an old school friend of Nayan, now a writer, returning to Chesterfield, looking for a story to tell and who has interviewed all parties involved after the events of the book have unfolded. It also becomes clear at the end of the book that the author's own family have had a greater influence on the earlier events than has been revealed by Nayan.
Having had a day to reflect on the book, I'm still not sure what to make of it. Is it satire? It certainly feels like it at times or is it an honest attempt to discuss the fracture of left-wing politics. The white anti-racist 'allies' of both Megha and Helen son's accuser (in an earlier incident) are comically self-unaware and Megha, the DEI supervisor and an ambitious daughter of privilege, is hideously self-righteous and deceitful in her efforts to win the union election and one of the most dislikable characters I've come across recently. The toxic use of social media and cancel culture to distort, bully and censure is chillingly portrayed. Nayan himself is a caricature of a 1970's shop steward and could easily have been modeled on the Peter Sellers shop steward Fred Kite in I'm alright, Jack. The debate between the pair at the election conference (replete with outbursts from audience members) ends with a savage takedown of identity politics.
Helen, Nayan's nominal love interest, while perhaps physically appealing, seems to have advanced from moody teenager (with shitty life) to even moodier adult (with equally shitty life). She rejects his advances both rudely and repeatedly while he persists in trying to both woo her and help her (and her son) out. Her (ulterior) motives for (finally) becoming involved with Nayan just don't hold up to any logical scrutiny and she just doesn't really have anything of value to say or add to the story.
More interesting to me are the children of the protagonists-- Brandon, Claudia and Buddy -- that inhabit the fringes of this novel but, alas, this isn't really their story. Whilst I enjoyed the book's structure, the dialogue often felt clunky and stilted -- was I reading a Union DEI pamphlet? -- and this just wasn't a Booker Prize standard read for me.
2.5 STARS
May 26, 2024
A very depressing story, so much heartbreak and tragedy. I found the characters to be very one-dimensional and frankly, I didn’t like any of them. I think there could have been a lot less detail about the workings of a British labor union.
July 3, 2024
Nuanced, tragic, and compelling!
The Spoiled Heart is an intriguing, heart-tugging tale set in modern-day Britain that takes you into the life of Nayan Olak, a middle-aged man of Indian descent who is struggling with the continued grief of losing his mother and son in a fire years ago, the ongoing care of a father who he despises but also loves, a run for the union general secretary position that has turned into a fiery, mudslinging affair, and a blossoming romance with a white woman who has troubles and secrets of her own.
The prose is effortless and tender. The characters are multilayered, scarred, and vulnerable. And the plot is an absorbing tale of life, loss, love, reputation, familial dynamics, class division, race, societal prejudices, and tragedy.
Overall, The Spoiled Heart is a tense, captivating, sobering tale by Sahota that reminds us that families are complicated and messy, the choices we make often have far-reaching consequences, and long-buried secrets somehow always find their way to the surface.
Thank you to Penguin Random House Canada for gifting me a copy in exchange for an honest review.
The Spoiled Heart is an intriguing, heart-tugging tale set in modern-day Britain that takes you into the life of Nayan Olak, a middle-aged man of Indian descent who is struggling with the continued grief of losing his mother and son in a fire years ago, the ongoing care of a father who he despises but also loves, a run for the union general secretary position that has turned into a fiery, mudslinging affair, and a blossoming romance with a white woman who has troubles and secrets of her own.
The prose is effortless and tender. The characters are multilayered, scarred, and vulnerable. And the plot is an absorbing tale of life, loss, love, reputation, familial dynamics, class division, race, societal prejudices, and tragedy.
Overall, The Spoiled Heart is a tense, captivating, sobering tale by Sahota that reminds us that families are complicated and messy, the choices we make often have far-reaching consequences, and long-buried secrets somehow always find their way to the surface.
Thank you to Penguin Random House Canada for gifting me a copy in exchange for an honest review.
dnf
June 4, 2024DNF @ 15%
April 25, 2024
This book follows Nayak, a man grappling with past tragedies while pursuing leadership in the labor union to promote fairness in his community. He is challenged as he is up against a formidable opponent, Megha. At the same time, he is very drawn to a woman called Helen, who returns to town after years, accompanied by her troubled teenage son. As Nayak's bond with Helen deepens, so does his rivalry with Megha, revealing links between past and present. This compelling story explores themes of love, family, and societal issues, skillfully intertwining politics into its storyline. I couldn't put it down and finished it in a day!
May 10, 2024
Not completely sure how I feel about this one.
I liked how Sahota blurs lines and never quite gives you any heroes or villains -- the characters are realistic, complex, and you can see everyone's side without taking sides.
However, I just feel there was something missing, and I was not completely sold on the reporter/writer angle for the narrator, who swoops in at the very end with the inside knowledge of what really happened from a very personal source.
I just can't give this more than 3 stars.
I liked how Sahota blurs lines and never quite gives you any heroes or villains -- the characters are realistic, complex, and you can see everyone's side without taking sides.
However, I just feel there was something missing, and I was not completely sold on the reporter/writer angle for the narrator, who swoops in at the very end with the inside knowledge of what really happened from a very personal source.
I just can't give this more than 3 stars.
May 10, 2024
I found the conflict and plotting revolving around class, race, and "identism" extremely compelling and lucid. The fight between our main character Nayan and his labor union rival Megha was riveting, engrossing and very reflective of our times..Sadly the melodrama around the personal family life of Nayan and his tragic losses seemed predictable and less interesting. The long debate speeches between these two socialist rivals are well worth several rereadings and great for discussion and reflextion in any book group!
September 5, 2024
This is an honest and fairly fearless conversation about some of the most hotly contested culture wars being fought today.
Which part of one's identity takes precedence - race or class?
What I love about it is Sahota's not here to deliver us easy answers or to tell us what to think.
And it's not just about the ideas. I was swept up in the story of unlikely love, tragedy, and the horror of having the mob against you.
Having not really enjoyed his Booker acclaimed China Room, I'm very glad I gave Sahota another chance!
Which part of one's identity takes precedence - race or class?
What I love about it is Sahota's not here to deliver us easy answers or to tell us what to think.
And it's not just about the ideas. I was swept up in the story of unlikely love, tragedy, and the horror of having the mob against you.
Having not really enjoyed his Booker acclaimed China Room, I'm very glad I gave Sahota another chance!
May 22, 2024
Excellent book!!! Great characters great story and the last 20 pages I did t see coming, and they were numbered. This one will stay with me for a while.
100,000/10
100,000/10
January 20, 2025
Politics is personal…
Nayan Olak’s life was shattered when his young son died in an accident, an experience his marriage did not survive. He’s still friends with his ex-wife who has managed to move on, finding happiness in a new relationship. And just recently Nayan too has become tentatively involved with a woman called Helen whom he remembers from their youth but who has been away from the town for many years until her recent return. But on the whole Nayan is alone, immersing himself entirely in his work and vocation as a union rep. The imminent retiral of the general secretary of the union means there’s a vacancy, and Nayan is expected by all to be elected overwhelmingly to the office – a position that he has seemed destined to fill. But then someone else puts herself forward for the job – Megha, a young woman who only came into the union recently and works as its diversity officer. At first she is seen as no real competition, until she makes a claim that Nayan bullied her, even threatened her, an allegation that Nayan finds baffling and assumes no one who knows him will believe…
I loved this. The writing is great, and Nayan is an absolutely convincing character who reminded me of so many of the best of the union leaders I knew in my own union days. The book is told mainly in the third person, framed inside a first person narrative from an acquaintance of Nayan’s who is being told the story by him, so that it’s mainly Nayan’s point of view that the reader is getting. So we too are somewhat baffled by Megha’s allegations, especially since Nayan seems like the least likely person in the world to bully anyone. But while that is the hook the plot hangs on, in reality the book is much more an examination of traditional union values versus what have come to be known as ‘woke’ values, or identity politics.
Nayan believes that too much emphasis is being placed on identity, be it race, gender or sexuality, and that this is divisive. For him, it’s all about class – inequality in wealth and opportunity – and working-class people being ground under the heel of capitalism regardless of their colour or creed. Dividing people into separate sections all demanding separate rights and claiming that their victimhood is worse than other people’s victimhood is to him against all the principles of class solidarity he has fought for all his life. Megha, however, is younger and woker, and believes that it’s impossible to overlook the impact of racism and sexism – her idea for the union is that it should promote diversity, which Nayan also believes, but for her each minority must be seen as separate and policy must be created to lift each group individually rather than as part of a mass.
It’s the big political argument of the day, until recently being won by the proponents of identity politics, although that worm is not so much turning as being trodden underfoot by the move to the right which it is in large part causing. Sahota explores it brilliantly, I thought, and while I was entirely on Nayan’s side of the debate (he was preaching to the long converted), he made it just as possible to be on Megha’s side too. The main reason that I thought it worked so well is that both Nayan and Megha are from minority racial backgrounds, as of course Sahota is too, thus removing white dominance and tedious accusations of racism from the discussion. Secondly, these are both people firmly on the left, so the debate can be had without anyone being lazily dismissed as “far right” for straying an inch from identity politics orthodoxy.
Sahota handles the question of bullying very well too, showing that often it is as much a matter of perception as provable fact. It is, he shows, quite possible for someone to honestly believe they are being bullied, while the alleged bully just as honestly believes the allegation to be incredible. What then, he asks the reader to consider? Do we believe all claims – of sexism, racism, bullying, etc.? Or do we require more evidence, more corroboration, more consideration, before we destroy someone’s career over an allegation? What if someone has been in a managerial role for years and no one else has ever called him a bully? Is one claim enough? Even if the alleged victim honestly believes she’s been bullied, isn’t it permissible to tell her she’s wrong – that ‘her truth’ has no more automatic validity than ‘his truth’? To be honest, the one weakness of the book is that I felt Sahota took the easy way out on this question in the end, which rather diluted the interesting questions he had raised.
The third section of the story takes the book away from the political sphere and gives it the human angle that is so necessary in a novel. It’s made up of three aspects – Nayan’s grief over his son, the death of his mother long ago in a house fire, and his growing involvement with Helen. There is a mild mystery in there which gets resolved, but it’s really the emotional elements of it that matter. Each aspect gives another perspective on Nayan, building together to explain the man he has become. Because his life is otherwise rather empty, we see how important his work is to him, with the union giving him a sense of family, so that the loss of his standing in that community would be devastating. Even if he did unintentionally do something that could be interpreted as bullying, does he deserve to lose so much after a lifetime of trying to raise others?
A great novel that engaged both my heart and brain – I shall be eagerly looking forward to reading more from Sahota.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
Nayan Olak’s life was shattered when his young son died in an accident, an experience his marriage did not survive. He’s still friends with his ex-wife who has managed to move on, finding happiness in a new relationship. And just recently Nayan too has become tentatively involved with a woman called Helen whom he remembers from their youth but who has been away from the town for many years until her recent return. But on the whole Nayan is alone, immersing himself entirely in his work and vocation as a union rep. The imminent retiral of the general secretary of the union means there’s a vacancy, and Nayan is expected by all to be elected overwhelmingly to the office – a position that he has seemed destined to fill. But then someone else puts herself forward for the job – Megha, a young woman who only came into the union recently and works as its diversity officer. At first she is seen as no real competition, until she makes a claim that Nayan bullied her, even threatened her, an allegation that Nayan finds baffling and assumes no one who knows him will believe…
I loved this. The writing is great, and Nayan is an absolutely convincing character who reminded me of so many of the best of the union leaders I knew in my own union days. The book is told mainly in the third person, framed inside a first person narrative from an acquaintance of Nayan’s who is being told the story by him, so that it’s mainly Nayan’s point of view that the reader is getting. So we too are somewhat baffled by Megha’s allegations, especially since Nayan seems like the least likely person in the world to bully anyone. But while that is the hook the plot hangs on, in reality the book is much more an examination of traditional union values versus what have come to be known as ‘woke’ values, or identity politics.
Nayan believes that too much emphasis is being placed on identity, be it race, gender or sexuality, and that this is divisive. For him, it’s all about class – inequality in wealth and opportunity – and working-class people being ground under the heel of capitalism regardless of their colour or creed. Dividing people into separate sections all demanding separate rights and claiming that their victimhood is worse than other people’s victimhood is to him against all the principles of class solidarity he has fought for all his life. Megha, however, is younger and woker, and believes that it’s impossible to overlook the impact of racism and sexism – her idea for the union is that it should promote diversity, which Nayan also believes, but for her each minority must be seen as separate and policy must be created to lift each group individually rather than as part of a mass.
It’s the big political argument of the day, until recently being won by the proponents of identity politics, although that worm is not so much turning as being trodden underfoot by the move to the right which it is in large part causing. Sahota explores it brilliantly, I thought, and while I was entirely on Nayan’s side of the debate (he was preaching to the long converted), he made it just as possible to be on Megha’s side too. The main reason that I thought it worked so well is that both Nayan and Megha are from minority racial backgrounds, as of course Sahota is too, thus removing white dominance and tedious accusations of racism from the discussion. Secondly, these are both people firmly on the left, so the debate can be had without anyone being lazily dismissed as “far right” for straying an inch from identity politics orthodoxy.
Sahota handles the question of bullying very well too, showing that often it is as much a matter of perception as provable fact. It is, he shows, quite possible for someone to honestly believe they are being bullied, while the alleged bully just as honestly believes the allegation to be incredible. What then, he asks the reader to consider? Do we believe all claims – of sexism, racism, bullying, etc.? Or do we require more evidence, more corroboration, more consideration, before we destroy someone’s career over an allegation? What if someone has been in a managerial role for years and no one else has ever called him a bully? Is one claim enough? Even if the alleged victim honestly believes she’s been bullied, isn’t it permissible to tell her she’s wrong – that ‘her truth’ has no more automatic validity than ‘his truth’? To be honest, the one weakness of the book is that I felt Sahota took the easy way out on this question in the end, which rather diluted the interesting questions he had raised.
The third section of the story takes the book away from the political sphere and gives it the human angle that is so necessary in a novel. It’s made up of three aspects – Nayan’s grief over his son, the death of his mother long ago in a house fire, and his growing involvement with Helen. There is a mild mystery in there which gets resolved, but it’s really the emotional elements of it that matter. Each aspect gives another perspective on Nayan, building together to explain the man he has become. Because his life is otherwise rather empty, we see how important his work is to him, with the union giving him a sense of family, so that the loss of his standing in that community would be devastating. Even if he did unintentionally do something that could be interpreted as bullying, does he deserve to lose so much after a lifetime of trying to raise others?
A great novel that engaged both my heart and brain – I shall be eagerly looking forward to reading more from Sahota.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
October 19, 2025
I read one book by Sahota before and did not have a good experience with it, despite finding it well written. It was just so sad. This is breezier and almost made me believe that it was going to be lighter and less doom-laden. It's not. It's bloody miserable. Children are killed, lives are ruined, injustice is everywhere, no one is really the bad guy, and if they are then they already have dementia. Everyone's lives suck and the future will only get shittier. This gave me a fair amount of anxiety and I cannot recommend it. From a literary perspective the framing is all over the place. There is a narrator character who appears and disappears without really serving a useful function. We are not in West Egg. He is no Nick Carraway. There is so much reported speech that not knowing whether this is being relayed to the narrator or whether the narrator is relaying it to the reader through his filter is just confusing. I think that this might also just be a bad book on top of being a manipulative and miserable one.
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