Zirkuskind.

by John Irving

Used book in good condition, due to its age it could contain normal signs of use

Genres: Fiction, India, Contemporary, Literary Fiction, Novels, Literature, American

969 pages, Paperback

First published August 16, 1994

About the author

JOHN IRVING was born in Exeter, New Hampshire, in 1942. His first novel, Setting Free the Bears, was published in 1968, when he was twenty-six. He competed as a wrestler for twenty years, and coached wrestling until he was forty-seven.
Mr. Irving has been nominated for a National Book Award three times—winning once, in 1980, for his novel The World According to Garp. He received an O. Henry Award in 1981 for his short story “Interior Space.” In 2000, Mr. Irving won the Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay for The Cider House Rules. In 2013, he won a Lambda Literary Award for his novel In One Person.
An international writer—his novels have been translated into more than thirty-five languages—John Irving lives in Toronto. His all-time best-selling novel, in every language, is A Prayer for Owen Meany.
Avenue of Mysteries is his fourteenth novel.

Reviews

[Gail · Rating 5 out of 5]

My favorite Irving book. I have a love/hate relationship with Irving's work. "Son" is a madhouse of a novel, even for Irving. The plot(s) are dizzyingly complicated; the characters as bizarre as always, but somehow believable. I loved the feeling for India in the book; and the humor--oh my! The scene in the cab made me laugh until I cried, thus waking up my husband, as I was reading in bed. If you can tolerate really, really weird situations, don't mind some mild but off-the-wall sexual references, and just want to read something completely different, this is a book for you.

[Algernon (Darth Anyan) · Rating 4 out of 5]

The son of the circus from the title is Doctor Farokh Daruwalla, a somewhat surprising choice as main character that has to carry on his shoulders such a hefty narrative. At first glance he is a placid little man, of a rather short stature and rotund girth, neat and fussy but in general shy and insecure. As I followed his interior monologues for page after page I have come to compare him to a still pond that hides great depths beneath the calm surface.

as a Parsi and a Christian, a Bombayite and a Torontonian, an orthopedic surgeon and a dwarf-blood collector, Dr Daruwalla could never have been satisfied by just one club.

The choice of focus on this confused, conflicted personage was intentional on the part of the author, who probably has little use for clear cut, opinionated, inflexible heroes. And Dr. Daruwalla is a true hero of the ordinary kind (I'm thinking Ikiru ), trying to do good even when he is not sure of the right path: doing unpaid work in children hospitals, researching a cure for genetical dwarfism, rescuing street urchins, raising other people's abandoned offspring, being a good husband and father, volunteering to help the terminally ill. His insecuritites and his unquenchable curiosity are in fact the motors that constantly push him forward, together with a rampant imagination and ingrained sense of justice.

The doctor was no more the incarnation of a god than he was a writer; he was, like most men, principally a dreamer.

Bored by the routine of a successful professional and family life, he seeks to discharge his creative energies through writing, more specifically Bollywood film scripts. His shyness and self-deprecation will make him act from the shadows, renouncing the limelight for the quiet satisfaction of the secret observer of human folly. The results are more often than not absolutely hilarious, and I would rate "A Son of the Circus" as one of the best comedies I've read this year. For sure, the humor is often bitter and sarcastic, aimed equally at the outside world and at his own person:

Farrokh had conceived Inspector Dhar in the spirit of satire — of quality satire. Why were there so many easily offended people? Why had they reacted to Inspector Dhar so humorlessly? Had they no appreciation for comedy? Only now, when he was almost 60, did it occur to Farrokh that he was his father's son in this respect: he'd uncovered a natural talent for pissing people off.

or,
Except when eating, Farrokh embraced procrastination as one greets an unexpected virtue.

Inspector Dhar is the doctor's most famous creation, a tough Bombay policeman moulded as the exact opposite of the creator's personality: athletic and quick witted, a smooth operator when it comes to the ladies and an acerbic critic of the sins of his peers. He is played in the movies by a friend of the doctor, John D., a younger man whose backstory and present tribulations are linked intimately to the main plot.

The main plot is structured similarly to one of the doctor scripts: a grotesque murder in the opening chapter, a chase after a serial killer targetting prostitutes in the Bombay red lights district, a pair of twins separated at birth, a wily police inspector and his emotionally unstable wife, beggars, dwarves, overbearing butlers, a 20 years old unsolved case, and so on. The relation between the plot and the movie scripts is also deliberate, illustrating the tendency of Dr. Daruwalla to retreat into his imaginary world in times of stress, where he uses the godlike powers of auhtorship in order to reshape events into a more palatable version of reality, one that makes sense and where lessons can be learned, and happy endings are still a possibility.

Damn other people's messes! Dr Daruwalla was muttering aloud. He was a surgeon; as such, he was an extremely neat and tidy man. The sheer sloppiness of human relationships appalled him, especially those relationships to which he felt he'd brought a special responsibility and care. Brother-sister, brother-brother, child-parent, parent-child. What was the matter with human beings, that they made such a shambles out of these basic relationships?

As a character study, the novel succeeds spectacularly in presenting not only the many facets of Dr. Daruwalla, but of all the numerous players gravitating around his stocky frame. The narrative jumps effortlessly to these other points of view, only to return to the anchor point of Farokh. The actual timeline of the events cover less than two weeks of the doctor's visit to Bombay, helping to give the story a sense of unity and simmetry, but the pacing is leisurely with lengthy flashbacks within flashbacks going back decades to Farokh's early childhood fascination with the circus, his studies and courtship in Austria, a first contact with an American film crew in Bombay, his medical career in Toronto, his periodical returns to India, his success as a scriptwriter. The wealth of details is often overwhelming (Irving is aware of the fact, and turns it into a self-referencing joke: The missionary wasn't a minimalist; he favored description. ), but my patience was rewarded when all the trivia turned out to have a role to play in the script after all.

No one who's still trying to "find himself" at thirty-nine is very reliable. exclaims Dr. Daruwalla at one point in the story, apparently unaware that he himself is still searching for his identity at the age of 60. His search leads him to religion, to scientific studies, to the already mentioned literary career. Most of all his questions relate to his cultural and spiritual heritage:

In Toronto, Farrokh was an unassimilated Canadian – and an Indian who avoided the Indian community. In Bombay, the doctor was constantly confronted with how little he knew India – and how unlike an Indian he thought himself to be.

At this level, the books scans as an overlong study of alienation, with Farrokh reiterating a favorite phrase of his father: "An immigrant remains an immigrant all his life." Rejected by extremists in his adopted land, viewed with suspicion in India because of his Western mannerisms and sensibilities, his plight will find resonance in readers like me, who are bilingual and immersed in a foreign culture or two on a daily basis, finding few chances to relate and discuss it with my immediate friends and family. The theme of alienation is not limited to Farrokh Daruwalla, it touches every secondary character in one form or another, be they a Jesuit missionary, a redneck girl on the run, a transexual boy/girl with long held grudges, an actor with a double life, a butler who feels superior to his patrons, or a dwarf who can no longer perform in the circus.

In our hearts, there must abide some pity for those people who have always felt themselves to be separate from even their most familiar surroundings, those people who either are foreigners or who suffer a singular point of view that makes them feel as if they're foreigners – even in their native lands.

Dr. Daruwalla seeks refuge in familiar places : his exclusivist and rigidly traditional club, his religious epiphany, the love for his wife, literature. As with his scriptwriting, the results are hilarious, especially the story of his conversion to Catholicism or the discovery of the beneficial effects of purple prose during a second honeymoon (Note to self: check out James Salter - A Sport and a Pastime). Other literary references deal with religious identity, mostly in the books of Graham Greene, quoted repeatedly in the text and in the polemic between the doctor and the missionary.

I'm not an expert on the work of John Irving, beside Cider House Rules, but it appears social issues and a general quality of mercy towards his characters are a constant feature of his novels. Intransigence, homosexuality, the exploitation of children, poverty, drug abuse, alcoholism, religious fervor are among the hot button issues touched upon in the text. The intensity of emotions and the subtlety of the observations make me recommend the book wholeheartedly, but my own struggles with the text (I spent two months on it instead of the usual 7-10 days) stop me short of a full endorsement. I experienced a lack of urgency, a self-indulgent streak for getting lost in minute details and painful moral considerations that illustrate well the personality of Farrokh, but stopped me from reading more than a few pages at a time.

On another personal note, a comparison to my other sprawling Indian saga I've read this year (The Midnight Children) is inevitable. Salman Rushdie and John Irving have little in common stylistically and the personalities of the main protagonists could not be more divergent (one a riotous, volcanic extrovert, subversive and irreverent in language and deed, the other a laidback, introspective, meticulous and detached observer) yet I found both accounts true to human nature with their differences more important than their similarities in revealing an Indian culture too big and too wild to fit into a rigid framework.

I would like to close with some praises for the author's use of metaphor and catchphrases (oneliners) reiterated like a song refrain, many dealing with the circus world, even if the actual story only visits the circus in a short episode. For Farrokh Daruwalla though, the circus comes to represent the whole meaning of life, from the childhood exuberance of miracles possible, to the ever present danger ("falling into the net") and constant struggle for survival, and ultimately to the revelation of the whole grotesque absurdity of reality. Since the show must go on, all we can ultimately do is relax and enjoy the ride.

[edit 2016 : spelling]

[Matt · Rating 4 out of 5]

Returning for a second novel by John Irving, I was transported to India, where the culture shock was massive and the storytelling proved to be quite non-linear. All that being said, with patience and perseverance, I made it through this unique piece of writing and even feel that I enjoyed it. The circus is preparing for its next performance and, as always, there is something going on that is of interest. In India, the use of Achondroplastic dwarfs is quite common in the circus, allowing for some of the tricks to seem even more death-defying. However, it is not that which interests Dr. Farrokh Daruwalla. Instead, he prefers to locate a gene that might identify this dwarfism, trying to do so every time he returns home to Toronto. That Dr. Daruwalla is an orthopaedic surgeon seems of little concern to him or anyone else, though his medical specialty is also relevant at times. As Dr. Daruwalla is unable to locate a dwarf genetic marker, he is back for more blood testing, in hopes of being lucky this one time. While dining with a friend at the private club, Dr. Daruwalla is alerted to a murder on the golf course, where someone has been struck by a club. Unable to decipher what has gone on, Dr. Daruwalla uses some of his intuition to deduce what could have happened. Little known to anyone, Dr. Daruwalla is the author of a series of screenplays about an Inspector Dhar, one of India’s most renowned film stars. This is truly the central premise of the book—finding out who murdered the club member on the ninth green—but there is so much backstory to decipher about a handful of characters and how their interactions over the span of forty years has led to this point. Irving weaves many highly intricate storylines together, most in India, to tell of how the elder Dr. Daruwalla taught his son, Farrokh, some of the ins and outs of orthopaedics and what a chance filming of a horrible movie in India did for the community, as well as how it enriched the next generation of people who come to play their part in this book. From child prostitutes to accepted (and praised) alternative lifestyles, all of these flavourings of India come together to create this massive tome that has quite the story to tell, as long as the reader is patient and attentive in equal measure. Well-crafted, but not for all readers, I found this to be yet another winner by John Irving. Recommended for the type of reader who can handle tangential writing, as well as those who love all things Indian.

I will be the first to admit that this book will not be for everyone. I read this book and found myself stuck within the story, but could tell that had this been my first Irving, I likely would have pulled the plug. It does not read in a linear fashion in the least, leaping from different timelines in order to fill in many of the cracks and offer backstories for the characters. Irving has so many characters that I chose not to hone in on one to be labelled protagonist. Rather, he fills the chapters with a wonderfully complex and non-linear story that has more tangents than a high school math class. It is by focussing on these stories as central building blocks to the larger narrative that the reader can see how things piece themselves together. I found myself able to devour large chunks of the story at once, if only to better comprehend how things fit together. Irving’s style of detailed discussions will surely cause some readers to feel drowned while others will relish the experience. With long chapters that are broken into small vignettes, the reader can digest Irving’s massive undertaking in more manageable bites. With a unique story and many strong characters, this piece by John Irving is not to be missed by those who have the patience and fortitude.

Kudos, Mr. Irving, for this wonderful piece that challenged me from the start and throughout.

This book serves to fulfil the March 2020 requirement of the Mind the Bookshelf Gap reading group.

Love/hate the review? An ever-growing collection of others appears at:
http://pecheyponderings.wordpress.com/

A Book for All Seasons, a different sort of Book Challenge: https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/...

[Peter · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is probably Irving’s most ambitious and mature work, a masterpiece really. It is set in Bombay, India and contains multiple storylines, all dealing with surprising, and often grotesque, characters, situations, and practices. Like in many of Irving’s books, misfits play a central role. Incredibly multifarious writing but easy and informative to read. One suspects that Irving did a lot of research for this book. In general Irving is one of my absolutely favourite contemporary authors, a writer of great integrity. His books are always both profound and entertaining, and never disappoint!

[Tali · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read this book by accident and discovered how rich a a story can be.

[Adam · Rating 5 out of 5]

I bought my battered, brown paged copy of “A Son of the Circus” second-hand at Blossoms Book House in Church Street, Bangalore. A previous owner had left an old used Bangladesh Biman (airways) boarding pass inside it. I used this souvenir of a journey, completed long ago, as a bookmark. By the time I finished this long book, this fragile strip of paper was a mere shadow of its former self.

The book begins with some pages of ‘Author’s Notes’. These start with the words: “This novel isn’t about India. I don’t know India. I was there once, for less than a month…” I strongly disagree with this. Irving may have only been in India for a short time, but he has certainly managed to write a beautifully detailed account of the parts of the country that feature in this lengthy novel. His eye for detail is amazing, as is his ability to fondly and sympathetically characterise the Indians who appear in the story.

On page 635 of my copy (published by Corgi in 1995), I read: “‘I’m going to tell you a little story about my mother,’ said Martin Mills. Somehow, Dr Daruwalla knew that the story wouldn’t be ‘little’. The missionary wasn’t a minimalist; he favoured description. In fact, Martin left out no detail…” This brief extract summarises Irving’s writing perfectly, and accounts for the great length of this novel.

Page after page, the author keeps on introducing new characters bits of information and frequently goes off at a tangent with seemingly irrelevant sidetracking. I found this a little disturbing at first, but soon realised that almost everything that Irving introduces eventually helps to drive the plot later on. So, if you feel that you are not sure where the book is heading when you have read about 300 pages, don’t despair!

I will not attempt to summarise the complicated plot, which is at least as complex as, and often even more enjoyable, than that of a long Bollywood film. The only thing that this novel lacks is the song and dance scenes that make Bollywood movies so much fun to watch. Needless to say, Dr Daruwalla, a Parsee physician, who resides most of the year in Toronto with Julia his Austrian wife, is the hero of this epic tale. Not only does he cure cripples and perform medical research during his regular visits to Bombay, but he also writes risqué film scripts for Bollywood films. His protégé, Inspector Dhar, is the hero of these films. Martin Mills, mentioned above, is Dhar’s identical twin. Trouble begins when Martin, a fanatical Jesuit, arrives in Bombay to take up missionary work. But Daruwalla is already facing difficulties on account of his films having upset a large number of people including Rahul, a malevolent transvestite who has recently married Mr Dogar, a fellow member of the Duckworth Club (which may be an alias for one of Bombay’s leading clubs such as the Willingdon Club). If you want to know more, then get started on the oddly compelling “A Son of The Circus”.

Although it has taken me ages to finish this book and the gold writing on its attractive green cover has worn away during many hours of holding it, this is an exciting book, an adventure, or maybe even a thriller, set in India. I recommend it highly.

I intend reading other books by Irving, but first let me tackle something briefer!

[Cody | CodysBookshelf · Rating 2 out of 5]

DNF @ Page 355.

Yep, I'm giving up after investing so much time into this shaggy dog of a novel. I wanted to like it, really. Irving is one of my favorite authors and reading his stuff is always an unique experience. But this thing is ALL over the place: it doesn't know what it wants to be, or why. I can't keep up with the ever-expanding cast of characters nor can I find a reason to care about them. I don't know where the hell this thing is going, and I'm only halfway done. I just cannot keep going.

Still, Irving's prose is impeccable in places and I did like a couple of the characters — hence my 2 stars. Maybe I will finish this one day.

I buddy read this with my friend Edward. We will be tackling A Widow for a Year next. :)

[Thomas Stroemquist · Rating 5 out of 5]

My favorite John Irving - I'm having a bit of hard time to single out what makes this one a notch above the rest (and above a huge number of others), but I'm certain that the intriguing setting of India and (this time) perfect blend of joy of telling a story and strange but likeable characters are keys to the whole.

[Lisa Strube-Kilgore · Rating 5 out of 5]

I've always been a John Irving fan, but this one took me by surprise. It has a very slow start - I found myself struggling to get into it, thinking, "Why on earth would I care about an Indian circus and an Orthopedist's quest for dwarf blood?" (And yeah - it's exactly as weird as it sounds, at least at first.) I almost gave it up. Suddenly, though, after I pushed through the first two chapters, the dozens of characters started to gain their own identities, and all of a sudden, bang! , I was in an Irving novel.

This book, surprisingly (at least to me), had the almost certainly unintended (and definitely unanticipated) effect of making me want to learn more about India. Which is weird, since, as the book makes clear time and time again, it's not really about India. It's part detective mystery, part rumination on global racial relations, part unapologetic schmaltz, funny as hell and surprisingly heartbreaking (it has a sneaky habit, like more than one of Irving's books, of catching you off guard. You'd think I'd be ready for him by now, but it seems like I never am!). This novel is a lot like A Prayer for Owen Meany in that its last chapters, wherein everything starts getting wrapped up, have a sense of mourning about them, at least in a general "time marches on" kind of sense that's sort of hard to pin down.

I really love this book. It's kind of a slog at 682 pages, but I think I read it every single night for two weeks. Highly, highly recommended.

[Carol (§CoverLoverGirl§) · Rating 3 out of 5]

I dropped this after the first 100 pages as I found it hard going getting into the life of circus dwarfs.

A couple of months later I picked it up again and WOW it really did take off for me.

A fascinating story and set of characters, generally based in India, but I found it a shocking story at times. I've read several books based in India and I am always taken aback at the poverty, dire living conditions, insanitary conditions and the lack of human respect for women. It is very difficult to understand their acceptance of sexual abuse of children.

Aside from the horrors it was a very good read.

[Emi Yoshida · Rating 5 out of 5]

I used to love John Irving, read most of what he wrote (The World According to Garp, A Prayer for Owen Meany, Cider House Rules, The Water Method Man, The 158 lb Marriage) until A Widow for One Year and The Fourth Hand, which I hated and quit him over. So I was hesitant about A Son of the Circus, but then ended up falling in total love with it, and all the characters, even the minor ones.

The story is wacky, the main character Dr. Farrokh Daruwalla lives part-time in Canada and part-time in Bombay. He and his brother both married Austrians (sisters). Dr. Daruwalla is an orthopedic surgeon and has three daughters (orthopedics feature predominantly in this book, oddly his own children play next to zero role at all) and a pseudo-son named John D. In addition to practicing medicine, the doctor has a secret occupation, that of screenwriter. The movies are terrible and star John D as Inspector Dhar.

This book made me remember how witty John Irving's dialog is, and his gift for making such entirely preposterous set-ups completely believable. There is serial killing, family drama, cultural values, twins separated at birth, sex changes and tons more (but no wrestling or New England, which seems weird for John Irving). At times I wondered why the doctor's daughters weren't featured in the story, but maybe that was to highlight how tight the bond is between him and John D, who isn't real kin but is loved just as much. Spanning several countries and time-lines and story-lines as this book does, most writers would confuse and overwhelm, but even though it took me several days to finish reading this 633 page book, I knew exactly where I'd left off every time I returned, and immediately got engrossed in it. I love the constant theme of not belonging and feeling foreign, and wondered how a white American could write about those things so perceptively, especially as racism affects those of color - I learned that John Irving lived in Vienna in his youth and has homes in Canada, and the rest I attribute to his being a brilliant author.

[Lisa Cook · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love John Irving with an unbridled and, to be fair, probably pretty biased passion. I really haven't met an Irving book I didn't like. Despite the chaos, despite the coincidence, despite the crazy, I'm always irrevocably hooked from start to finish. A Son of the Circus was no exception.

A Son of the Circus is about Dr. Farrokh Daruwalla, and his practice as an orthopedist, and his quasi-adopted son John, and his career as a screenwriter, and his unlikely connection to an idealistic but clueless missionary. Did I mention there were dwarves and child prostitutes and twins-separated-at-birth, too? This novel was spastic and all over the place and I loved every second of it. I have no idea how Irving manages to juggle so many plot lines and characters and voices and points of view, but he does it. He does it with style and voice and with flair and I loved every second of it.

The ending dragged a little bit, sure, and some of the characters were more dynamic than others, but still. Sometimes I need a little crazy in my literary life and A Son of the Circus did not disappoint. And I loved every second of it.

[Rachel · Rating 1 out of 5]

Couldn't finish this one. Just not my cup of tea.

[Joey · Rating 1 out of 5]

Somewhere in a vacuous universe of this tube, Joey bumped into GR.

Joey: Hi, you look familiar with me. Have we met before? You must be … one of my friends on Good Reads!

GR: Oh, yeah! You are …Joey! ( overwhelmed )

Joey: And you are ...GR! Oh, it’s nice to see ya here! ( shaking hands with GR)

GR: Oh, yeah! As though we haven’t seen each other for ages! ( laughs)
( then she saw a book Joey holding) Oh, you must be reading something. ( trying to look through it) Wait ! wait! Wait! You have been reading John Irving’s ?

Joey: ( hiding the book behind his back ) Ah,huh…er… I have. ( smiling )

GR: What’s the title?

Joey: Ah…er..A Son of the Circus.

GR: Oh, really? Wait! ( thinking ) Is not that on the list of 1001 Best Novels of All Time? ( giggling)

Joey: Oh, yeah! You are right!

GR: I said it. So,what do you think of it?( excited )

Joey: Ah.. er..Well, H-how bout you? What have you been reading?

GR : Oh, I have just finished a chicklit by Rainbow Rowell. OMG! It’ terrific. I recommend you read it. It’s heart-breaking!In fact, it won …..

Joey: Oh, really?

GR: So , Is John Irving’s interesting?

Joey: Er..I think I have heard a lot of good things about Rowell. I would love to read hers too.

GR: Oh, yeah ! Come on! Get on with it! Then, let me know what you think of it. I am so excited !What was it again? Oh, yeah! It is John…

Joey : Ah,( looking at his watch ) er.. I am sorry! I’ve got to go! Nice to meet you again, GR. Chat you on Good reads. ( walking past him in a hurry)

GR: Er..H-how about …? Wait! ( waving his hand ) Ok. ( watching him fading away ) …Is there something the matter with the book? ( muttering under his breath, despaired)

When GR was home, he logged into his Good reads account. The first message popped was from Joey’s.

____________________________
To: GR
From: Joey

Hi, GR. I’ve checked that you haven’t read A Son of the Circus by John Irving’s yet.Well, I don’’t wanna be a spoiler. If you wanna read it, have LONG PATIENCE.
Otherwise, you might end up laying it to rest.
Good luck!

__________________________________


At last, I finished this 708 –page novel since I had let it on my study table collect mote of dust as well as get stuck and musty in my currently-reading list on Goodreads for a year. Gee, at that time I still found it very humorous, replete with amusing themes I could not find from other novels, as well as I was impressed by its firs immortal THE WORLD ACCORDING TO GARP ( 4 stars ). In fact, I was tempted to read first thereupon buying his A WIDOW FOR ONE YEAR because I was fascinated by its softbound cover. Unfortunately, I was very disappointed. So, automatically, I gave it 1 star. And for the second time around, A SON OF THE CIRCUS is somewhat less disappointing than the former . What’s the matter? In effect, doubtless , John Irving is a gifted writer. I liked the fact that he is able to write such ambitious novels as though he does not have to deal with a writer’s block, as if he never runs out of any ideas. Besides, it is amazing of him to jumble up his different themes together in the same concept. On the other hand, since it is now my third novel, I am now getting more familiar with his writing style than that I found out why I gave both A WIDOW FOR ONE YEAR and this one 1 star. First, Irving loves dilly-dallying with his stories as I thought of before. He tends to beat around the bush. He does not stick to the main story. Rather, he tells more details about a superficial situation I am not very much familiar with. . Who cares? Thus, the narrator sounds to be blabbering.

Blah! Blah! Blah! Blah! Blah!

Furthermore, I have noticed that John Irving loves repeating the same stories in the other chapters in a sense that they are all connected- a writing style that is doubtless very rare among other writers. However, such style is persistent in a sense that it ends up a pain in the ass. Imagine a plot goes like this :

Chapter 1 : You read a story …………………..blah! blah! blah!
Chapter 2: You read another story…….then here it goes again, the same with Chapter 1…blah! blah! blah!

I am telling you. You need a considerable amount of long patience to finish it.

Granted that this is less disappointing, I believe that this is still a masterpiece. For me , any piece of literary work is a labor of writing skills. Alas, it’s beyond my taste. But as the cliché goes,” There must be the method to Irving’s madness.”, and this is on what I want to be shed light someday.

I still have his two novels more on my shelf: A PRAYER FOR OWEN MEANY and UNTIL I FIND YOU. I wonder if he wrote them with the same style. Dear me!

[Kaitlyn · Rating 1 out of 5]

On some level, it hurts me to write this review. I first discovered Irving’s books in high school and fell for them hard. The obsession quieted down after a few years, but seeing his name was enough to give me nostalgia. A Son of the Circus has been in my to-read pile for literal years, and if I hadn’t procrastinated so much, maybe I would have been kinder in this review. Maybe I would have found some enjoyment in it.

Unfortunately, this book was an absolute slog, to say the least.

The actual plot is fairly simple – the issue is that, all too often, the plot is buried in flashbacks (or flashbacks within flashbacks) or tangents that traverse several pages or even chapters. By the time the story comes back around, it’s easy to forget what has actually happened in the present timeline. Sure, these flashbacks and tangents may be rich in detail (Irving’s eye for that sort of thing, for making environments come alive, is on full display here), but the detail overwhelms, rather than enhances the story, as you’re forced to wade through pages and pages of filler to find one detail that has a modicum of relevance to the actual plot. Perhaps most frustratingly of all, after over 600 pages, the plot just… peters off. The climax of the book passes by in the blink of an eye – the event that the book has, apparently, been leading up to has such a weak payoff that you could be forgiven for thinking that you’d missed a few crucial pages.

The plot isn’t the only issue. What I found more egregious, especially as I made it towards the mid-point of the book and realized I still had over three hundred pages left to go, was the repetition. Certain phrases and expressions are utterly overused – it seemed like “Dr. Daruwalla cried” appeared every other page, and the more that was used (along with descriptors such as exclaimed or shouted), the more Dr. Daruwalla came off as completely hysterical and overdramatic, rather than the intelligent, wise man he’s supposed to be. Additionally, characters are referred to by descriptors over and over again – Martin Mills is referred to as “the scholastic”, and Dr. Daruawalla is interchangeably referred to as “the screenwriter” or “the doctor” far too many times, as if Irving is afraid that we will forget what these characters do if we aren’t reminded every other page.

On a related note, the characters are also difficult to keep track of, because in addition to their descriptors, almost all of them have at least two names, and there’s no rhyme or reason as to which name they’re referred to at any given time. On a single page, Irving may switch between John D., Inspector Dhar, or simply Dhar, multiple times. Perhaps this was supposed to be a comment on the different roles we all play in our lives, but it’s done so haphazardly that it isn’t very effective.

Also, if you’re looking forward to reading this book solely for the circus element – don’t bother. Considering the title, the circus features surprisingly little in the book, and when it is discussed, Dr. Daruwalla’s love of the circus doesn’t come off as convincing – he elevates some of the performers to almost divine figures, but I never really got a sense of why.

However, while all of the above certainly contributed to my low rating of this book, there’s one factor that, on its own, would have convinced me to give A Son of the Circus a single star rating.

This book is nearly thirty years old, and I want to give Irving the benefit of the doubt, but I would also pay him all of my savings to never write about trans and/or gender-diverse people again. Their treatment in this book is simply abhorrent. They are used for shock value; you’re repeatedly bludgeoned with the fact that they’re freakish, disgusting and worthy of mockery. They’re constantly reduced to nothing more than their sexual organs/practices and the ‘bizarre’ nature of those organs/practices. At one point, the term “it” is used in reference to one trans character, and I came very close to flicking the book out the nearest window. Not to mention that the trope of having the trans character being the villain/antagonist is tired and completely unnecessary. Even in 1994, I imagine that it was getting old.

In conclusion, I’m tired. The last few of Irving’s books that I’ve read have been merely disappointing. This one left a bad taste in my mouth, one that even my fond memories of The Hotel New Hampshire and A Prayer for Owen Meany can’t erase. To quote a line from the book (which, like everything else, was overused as soon as it was introduced), it’s “time to slip away” from reading any more of Irving’s work.

[Daniel · Rating 3 out of 5]

Good/decent but not great. Long read. Absolutely hilarious in parts but the story dragged in large areas. I didn’t totally connect with it. Not one of John Irving’s best but I would still slightly recommend it.

[Will Byrnes · Rating 2 out of 5]

I am a big fan of Irving, but I found this one disappointing.

[Roy · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5 stars. My least favorite John Irving book and the only one I can say that I did not especially like, not that it isn't written with his usual level of skill and attention to detail. But I found the plot and the characters far less addictive than that of the typical John Irving book. I probably would have rated this a little higher if it was written by someone else but I have the highest of expectations for Irving novels. He set a standard for himself with masterpieces such as The World According to Garp (to name just one) that I suppose is impossible to write up to every time out.

[Julia · Rating 5 out of 5]

It's a couple of years i read my first irving ever, and it's one of the few books which made me laugh out loud...hilarious situations, incredible characters, highly recommended....

[FräuleinHallo · Rating 1 out of 5]

DNF auf Seite 135 oder so. Das Buch hat schon einen echt schlechten Start mit seiner nonchalanten Erzählweise über ableistische, rassistische und misogyne Themen. Aber wenn dann noch eine Frau vom Hochseil stürzt und der Hauptcharakter einzig die festen Brüste unter ihrem Trikot und die Berührung ihrer zarten Haut auf seiner beschreibt.. Mag sein, dass man das auch reflektiert als Charakterstudie im zeitlichen Kontext lesen kann. Ich nicht.

[Snotchocheez · Rating 5 out of 5]

At long last I got around to reading Irving's long, LONG, LOOONG "A Son of the Circus", and despite its faults (and there are many, given its bloated 600+ page length), it's one of his best efforts, right up there with "A Prayer for Owen Meany", "...Garp", and "A Widow for One Year". I thought he'd be out of his element (if not out of his mind) writing about India, and put off reading it for more than a decade, although I wish I hadn't.

Irving lets the reader know in advance, however, that (although it's set there) the novel is not ABOUT India; rather, it's about feeling like a foreigner in your own country. It's a tough feat for a New Englander to write an entire novel set in India, narrated by an ex-patriate Indian-cum-Canadian, and still make it a credible, interesting read. Irving pulls it off admirably.

From what I can ascertain from the autobiographical bits scattered though some of Irving's later novels (particularly his latest novel "Last Night In Twisted River" which recounts some of his relationships with fellow authors like Vonnegut and Salman Rushdie), "A Son of the Circus", written in the mid-90's, seems to have been written in homage to Salman Rushdie, who may, perhaps, feel himself to be a foreigner or pariah in his homeland. The massive plot defies encapsulation: An orthopedic surgeon for children (originally from India but living in Canada) makes regular pilgrimages to India to work with the midget children in Bombay; he has a second career as a screenwriter of second-rate Bollywood detective movies. Throw in a cast of thousands (almost literally!), including clowns, trapeze artists, midgets and rabid monkeys at the circus (and Christian Enlightenment resultant from bites from said rabid monkeys (!)), disaffected Hollywood has-been actors/actresses, twins separated at birth, genteel golf club members, Hijras (a caste of transgendered Indians, akin to castrati) and zenanas (transvestites), child prostitutes (ick), car bombers/Sikh extremists...heck, even throw in a mass murderer into the mix...ultimately the protagonist swims through this mess and tries to make sense of his place on earth. That Irving was able to take the above elements and weave a coherent, entertaining, and socially relevant novel is, quite simply, an amazing accomplishment.

It's not perfect though. While Irving's zeal in writing this is evident in every single page, it can seem frightfully bloated with extraneous characters thrown at you from every-which-way. "...Circus" totally could've used a prudent trim job just to streamline the narrative flow a bit. (Though, to be honest, I'd much rather sift through a passel of Irving's sharp syntax than I would care doing so with any other authors' output). Also, if you're at all familiar with Irving, you probably know he is not shy with topics of a sexual nature. I've never been offended by anything he's put out there, but for the first time, he wierded me out with a plot thread involving saving a 12 year-old prostitute from a life of iniquity and AIDS by removing her from a brothel and putting her in the circus. That part could've easily been excised without any harm to the story as a whole. These are minor quibbles, however. Irving's fish-out-of-water, "once an immigrant, always an immigrant" tale of soul-searching in India is beautifully poignant, incredibly witty, and ages well.

[Ann · Rating 5 out of 5]

Critics may complain about the repetitive images of John Irving's books, but I love how he weaves the symbolism and influences of his life into his work. A Son of the Circus includes the common imagery of India, Toronto, central Europe, dwarfism, circuses, etc. from his other works. (More on that topic here: [http://www.readertravels.com/2006/09/...])

As always, I love his writing voice and the flow of the story. In this one, his nod to Graham Green is also a fun aspect of the story, a tribute to one of his major influences.

[Jamie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Rich in detail, intricately plotted, utterly hilarious, occasionally heartbreaking, A Son of the Circus is among John Irving's best, with some of his most fleshed out and realistic characters. I know some people give up on this book because it can take a while for some of the more disparate threads to come together with the main plot, and in my opinion those people are doing themselves a disservice. This book earns its five stars through tears of laughter and the welcome melancholy of saying goodbye to characters I've truly come to love.

[Susanna Rautio · Rating 2 out of 5]

Sirkuksen poika oli Vesimiehen jälkeen pitkästyttävin John Irvingin kirja ikinä.

Kaoottinen kuin Intia, jossa melkein kaikki tapahtuu. Ei hurmaavalla tavalla vaan sekopäisesti.

On taas värikästä sakkia. Ikääntyvä tohtori ja parikymmentä muuta hahmoa, monikulttuurista ja -arvoista, sukupuoli-identiteettejä ja -tauteja, sirkusta, vammaisuutta, rikoksia, kääpiötä. Irvingille vähemmän ei todellakaan ole enemmän.

Tähdistä toisen annan Irvingin humanismille. En kirjalle.

[Thomas Stroemquist · Rating 5 out of 5]

My all-time favorite Irving, even if I'm having troubles telling what exactly puts it a notch above the rest (just as I said in my review of the Swedish translated version). This is really up for a re-read soon, for now, I'm going to say that I definitely would recommend reading it in original language.

[Melissa · Rating 3 out of 5]

I don't know if I liked this book or not

I struggled for a while, trying to decide whether to continue reading or to put it down. And I am not certain why I didn't until the last 150 pages, and by that point I had a!ready read that far, I might as well finish the book. You don't connect with the characters and get you feel a need to follow the story to the end.

[Karbowianka · Rating 5 out of 5]

http://lolantaczyta.wordpress.com/201...

[Mari · Rating 2 out of 5]

Tässä oli liikaa henkilöitä, mikä sai aikaan sekavuuden tunteen eikä tarina kiinnostanut tarpeeksi. Toivottavasti oman hyllyn lukemattomat Irvingin kirjat ovat parempia kuin tämä.

[Olly Mines · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another author my old boss raved about and kudos to him he’s now two from two. I’ve found reading can often be a source of common ground in law firms where I can struggle to find much else which is nice.

This was a rollicking good time from start to finish which only picked up steam as you became more attached to the whacky characters. Cripples, prostitutes, surgeons, missionaries, actors, dwarfs and transsexual serial killers all collide in the very fitting locale of India. It was the absurdity of the situations our Mr. Daruwalla finds himself in that kept this plot rocking along.

The story is set amongst the backdrop of AIDS and sectarian violence which creates some great moments to ponder. Irving also has a lot to say on the immigrant experience with Farrokh being a western, English speaking Parsi torn between India and Canada while never feeling settled in either. I loved his second occupation of writing which produced some very interesting plot lines within plot lines.

Definitely keen to dive into Irving’s more acclaimed works after starting here.

[Mirella Ducasteele · Rating 3 out of 5]

Gekocht op de tweedehands boekenbeurs in Ardooie.
Omdat ik ook van John Irving alles wil lezen.

Over India en het circus, over dwergen, over transgenders, eunuchen en hidzjra's, over HIV, over hobby's en werk en de keuze ertussen, over het overal aanwezige racisme, ...

De eerste 100 bladzijden vroeg ik me af of ik verder moest lezen. Het kwam zeer stroef op gang, maar dan zat de typische Irving-schwung erin. Tientallen bladzijden over een hoerenkast 'de natte komedie', over het DNA van dwergen, ... en toch verveelt het zelden.

Voilà, dat was het laatste boek dat ik las op reis. Vijf vluchten en 16 uren wachten, daar kun je bij zuchten of daar kun je je op verheugen (mijn gat sjufelt, zeggen ze hier in Ardooie, als je ergens toch blij mee bent).