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Where Shall We Go This Summer
Delhi, Vision Books/Orient Paperbacks, 1994 reprint - Very Good paperback - 7" tall - 157pp.
157 pages, Paperback
First published June 1, 1991
10 people are currently reading
218 people want to read
About the author
Anita Desai
82 books922 followersAnita Desai was born in 1937. Her published works include adult novels, children's books and short stories. She is a member of the Advisory Board for English of the National Academy of Letters in Delhi and a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature in London. Anita Mazumdar Desai is an Indian novelist and Emeritus John E. Burchard Professor of Humanities at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. She has been shortlisted for the Booker prize three times. Her daughter, the author Kiran Desai, is the winner of the 2006 Booker prize.
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
June 28, 2025
words are quite complex ,but story of a women trying to escape to the island from the mainland where she was not happy enough, is portrayed quite well .
best line :
To certain people there comes a day
When they must say the great Yes or the great No.
He who has the Yes ready within him
reveals himself at once, and saying it crosses over
to the path of honour and his own conviction.
best line :
To certain people there comes a day
When they must say the great Yes or the great No.
He who has the Yes ready within him
reveals himself at once, and saying it crosses over
to the path of honour and his own conviction.
September 13, 2020
For me, this book defies our favorite ostentatious claim - 'Yes, this is what this book is about.' Reading this, is like being transported to the shores this book is set around. The waves lapping against your feet, but everytime you begin to be certain of the feeling of water tickling your toes, the waves recede. Something similar happens with the plot in this book.
As it begins, you unwittingly fall into the trap weaved by Desai and believe that it is about Moses, the safe keeper of an abandoned house on an island, waiting for the owners to return, but it is not really. As the protagonist, Sita, is introduced, you think, 'Oh, so this is the story of a pregnant woman having a mental breakdown and escaping to her childhood home in search of comfort', but it is not really. As her story progresses and you watch her struggle with connecting with her kids, you are led to believe that perhaps it is about unwanted, unwilled possibly even forced motherhood (forced by society's perceptions of the natural course of life for a woman). And you are yet again incorrect.
As Desai takes us back in time to Sita's childhood years in the house, just after the Indian Independence, you believe this to be a social commentary from the perspective of a child who witnesses without fully comprehending things. But then she begins to, and you think, 'Oh but could this be the story of a disillusionment of a child with his/her parent?' And as you reach the third and the final section of the novella, Desai tricks you again, 'So, all along this has been the story of a struggling marriage between people of opposing sensibilities that is hanging on the tenterhooks?' And then the last pages of the book come crashing down like waves on all these sand castles that are your theories on what this book is about. But that does not mean, the sand castles were never real, does it?
But one thing that unsettles you throughout the novel, might even alarm you if you are anything like Sita, is how affected she is by the overwhelming cruelty, tragedy and banality of everyday life. The small, seemingly insignificant moments that, for people like her husband pass by inconceivable, while people like Sita, find their life sabotaged by the avalanche of these small incidents. The sense of loneliness and alienation that comes from witnessing these small incidents and being unable to look away.
Reading this, I was constantly reminded of Samuel Beckett and Toni Morrison. Beckett, because of the idea of waiting in this book. Is Sita too, perhaps, waiting for Godot? Morrison because, Desai's prose is exquisite as it flows between the present and the memories. Desai's writing is phenomenal, it wrenches you into its world, demanding your undivided attention and nothing else. This might not be as transfixing a book for you, if you enjoy simpler writing styles. But if you want to explore her unique writing style, go ahead, this one is just around 150 pages.
As it begins, you unwittingly fall into the trap weaved by Desai and believe that it is about Moses, the safe keeper of an abandoned house on an island, waiting for the owners to return, but it is not really. As the protagonist, Sita, is introduced, you think, 'Oh, so this is the story of a pregnant woman having a mental breakdown and escaping to her childhood home in search of comfort', but it is not really. As her story progresses and you watch her struggle with connecting with her kids, you are led to believe that perhaps it is about unwanted, unwilled possibly even forced motherhood (forced by society's perceptions of the natural course of life for a woman). And you are yet again incorrect.
As Desai takes us back in time to Sita's childhood years in the house, just after the Indian Independence, you believe this to be a social commentary from the perspective of a child who witnesses without fully comprehending things. But then she begins to, and you think, 'Oh but could this be the story of a disillusionment of a child with his/her parent?' And as you reach the third and the final section of the novella, Desai tricks you again, 'So, all along this has been the story of a struggling marriage between people of opposing sensibilities that is hanging on the tenterhooks?' And then the last pages of the book come crashing down like waves on all these sand castles that are your theories on what this book is about. But that does not mean, the sand castles were never real, does it?
But one thing that unsettles you throughout the novel, might even alarm you if you are anything like Sita, is how affected she is by the overwhelming cruelty, tragedy and banality of everyday life. The small, seemingly insignificant moments that, for people like her husband pass by inconceivable, while people like Sita, find their life sabotaged by the avalanche of these small incidents. The sense of loneliness and alienation that comes from witnessing these small incidents and being unable to look away.
Reading this, I was constantly reminded of Samuel Beckett and Toni Morrison. Beckett, because of the idea of waiting in this book. Is Sita too, perhaps, waiting for Godot? Morrison because, Desai's prose is exquisite as it flows between the present and the memories. Desai's writing is phenomenal, it wrenches you into its world, demanding your undivided attention and nothing else. This might not be as transfixing a book for you, if you enjoy simpler writing styles. But if you want to explore her unique writing style, go ahead, this one is just around 150 pages.
October 20, 2011
One reason I don't enjoy reading Indian authors is that they just go in too deep with the whole writing thing. Every word has to have a deeper meaning and all emotional angles needs to be explored. They take life too seriously!
Story wise...it would have made a nice short story.
Story wise...it would have made a nice short story.
September 25, 2012
I liked the flow.....sometimes it stretched too much, else I enjoyed it...yes, I own it...
May 5, 2013
Boring, slow placed. Too descriptive. Would have been better if it was a short story.
January 17, 2015
it takes an Anita Desai to write a book of such tremendous clarity. depecting woman's emotional conflicts so wonderfully. loved this book page to page.
February 12, 2020
Nice book,,
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews