Saints and Charlatans

by Sarim Baig

Saints and Charlatans’ by Sarim Baig is a collection of interlinked stories set in contemporary Pakistani Punjab. It explores how the increasing intolerance of society compels individuals to become either saints or charlatans, and how it’s sometimes hard to tell the difference. In the titular story, we meet a line of saints of dubious credentials, a quack who explains the philosophy of charlatanism, and a poet whose sainthood remains a mystery; in ‘Bouganvillea’, a boy’s adventure to impress his hero leads him to an unexpected discovery; in ‘The Third one from the Left’, Bubloo Hijazi’s path to mediocrity is set against the trials and tribulations of the loafers of a snooker club and its owner's cunning way to success; in ‘The Path of the Man-Eater’, the strange fates of a group of s strangely talented people is a prelude to the invasion of fanaticism in a boy's fantastical world; in ‘Band in the Rain’, a man, while lost in the labyrinth of Rampura, ponders on how an individual’s pain translates into art, and finds the answer to be as tortuous as the lanes ahead; in ‘The Lord of Garbage’, an old trash picker teaches his young apprentice the art of picking, and what it means to possess something that’s been thrown into the garbage. The characters in these nine stories move between the fictional neighbourhood of Rampura in Lahore, and the village of Suratwala which feeds it. Nobody gets to belong to Suratwala village and then mind their own business, and this makes it a big problem for the families who’ve “made it”, who’ve left Suratwala and moved to the city. Written in a classical storytelling style, Saints and Charlatans’ features a cast of memorable, endearing, vividly sketched characters that pull you in, embrace you with their lively, authentic voices, and leave you bereft on the other side of the covers.

Genres: Short Stories

205 pages, Paperback

Published January 31, 2018

Reviews

[Anum Shaharyar · Rating 2 out of 5]

Maybe this book is an indication that short stories and I are just not meant to be. Maybe it’s time I sat down with my ridiculous desire to embrace this particular format of storytelling and said, ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ because clearly, it’s not working out. I mean, hating the first, or the second, or even the fifth compilation of short stories could be defended as a dislike for bad writing, or weak plots, or boring characters, but after reading dozens of anthologies/compilations and still being able to count on just one hand how many I actually liked, maybe I should just give up.

Which sounds like a damn shame because there’s so much potential in the genre. Or so I am told, by friends and online literary essays and bookish social media groups, but I routinely find myself frustrated and trying very hard to connect and then ultimately flipping to the end of the book to check how many pages are left so I can move on to better books. And at the same time, a voice at the back of my mind is always saying, ‘Maybe this isn’t as bad as you think. Maybe this is just a ‘you’ problem.’

I get that I shouldn’t have to force myself to love something if I don’t, but I find that I’m getting increasingly exasperated (and a little bit alarmed) at the number of books by Pakistani authors that I have tagged as ‘good idea, bad execution’. In all honesty, I really wanted to like this book, if only because it was published by Mongrel Books, a recently emerging Karachi-based independent press that I wish all the success in the world because more local presses (and we have so few for Pakistani English fiction anyway) equals more local books and authors, which can only be a good thing. So I went in with the very best of intentions, excited and looking forward to great stuff, and then suffered a disquieting whiplash when I closed the last page.

Anyway.

I should probably talk about the book itself eventually, since this is meant to be a review and not a rambling account of the five stages of grief that I suffered while reading this title. I’m going to try to point out the parts where my brain lagged for a second on a particularly good sentence or paragraph through the bored-sleepy-when-will-this-end fog in which I was reading this book. These parts were rare enough for me to be surprised when they occurred, but sporadic enough to drag the book from the ‘hate-this’ tottering pile of Pakistani books in my head to the ‘meh’ pile that also, sadly, seems to keep growing day by day.

First, the stories. All inter-connected, with characters from some stories popping up in others in a manner reminiscent of Daniyal Mueenuddin’s In Other Rooms, Other Wonders, another collection of short stories also set in contemporary Punjab which also managed to bore me to tears (honestly, the similarities to Mueenuddin’s collection did this title no favours in my eyes, because I hated In Other Rooms, Other Wonders quite passionately when I first read it). All the characters either live in or lived in or know someone who lives in Suratwala village at one point in their lives, and while I am usually a huge fan of seeing characters who were earlier front and centre randomly lingering on the edges of someone else’s narrative, this time it wasn’t well done enough for it to be interesting.

Honestly, I could just say ‘not done well enough’ and that would be the sum of my whole experience with this book. I liked the idea of it all: the first story talks about this super macho guy whom our protagonist looks up to, and who becomes despondent after hearing about the engagement of a local girl. Everyone thinks this manly man is lovesick because the woman he loves is getting married, but we find out, along with our (very young to have witnessed such stuff) protagonist that (spoilers ahead) it’s the groom whom he was actually in love with. Baig doesn’t go all out and write a sex scene between two men, but a secluded spot and hastily re-arranged clothes are signs enough for the reader to understand, and while I’m always honestly surprised at the audacity of South Asian writers who get away with presenting homosexual relationships in their books, I still wish the whole thing had been handled with more deftness. Homosexuality in South Asia means ostracization at best and death at worst, which means choosing to talk about it is a political act, and placing that story front and centre is also a political act that the publisher choose to willingly engage in. So while I give them points for pure nerve, I unfortunately cannot give the same points for the story itself.

Since the first story, while not the best thing ever written, had not been the worst, I kept reading in the hopes that it would get better. Ironically enough, it wasn’t until I got to the second last story (out of a total of 9) in the collection that I found something worth reading. It was a story called ‘The Lord of Garbage’, the title of which amused my husband to no end because he had been listening to me moan and groan up till that point. When I tilted the book in his direction to tap the page and bring his attention to the story’s name, he laughed and said, ‘well, it’s appropriate, at least,’ which was a mean thing to say, because that was actually the best story in this whole collection.

“You never know what you’re going to find in the garbage," the old man warned. “Oh, and you can’t unfind it. No way in hell. It’s going to be yours forever. Nobody’s going to come to you and say, 'Here boy, let me take it from you.' No. If they cared for those things, they would never throw them out. What’s more, you can’t get rid of the things you’ve already picked. What I’m saying is this: there’s no garbage for the garbage."

Written from the point of view of a boy who goes around scrounging in waste, with a father whom he secretly runs away to meet, and a gaggle of sisters he eventually finds his way back to, this particular tale showed depth and creativity, a purpose to the writing that felt missing in all the others. While some characters in other places in the collection did manage to retain a modicum of my interest, they would lose it soon afterwards, and quickly enough for it to have been a passing fancy rather than a regular fascination. Which is a shame because sometimes there were flashes of brilliance that, had they been moulded into something better, could have been pure gold.

It is also entirely possible that this is a compilation that is meant to be read in a certain mood, because the author didn’t attempt to give his characters happy endings, in a very ‘life is tough and shitty and it is what it is’ manner that fits into the cynical tone present throughout the stories. In retrospect, reading it during a global pandemic when one is looking for nice, calming stuff to help one survive isn’t a very good plan. As a side note, I’d also like to mention that one could accuse the author of having a vendetta against women as narrators, since they make a grand total appearance of zero in terms of presenting their own stories. The author, however, seems to be aware of this particular accusation since he replies to it in this interview. I’m thus inclined to give him a pass, although it is a very grudging one, since he seems to believe that ‘street folk’ are only men, which is a topic I’m very willing to disagree with quite strenuously.

And before I finish, one more thing which I feel really needs to be said: what an awful cover. Honestly, what was the thought process behind this? My god, every time I see a bad cover, the part of me that spends hours pouring over book cover options with my design team shudders and dies a little inside. Truly, if people out there are judging books by their covers, I don’t want to know what people think of this one.

And on that final, slightly depressing note, I end my relationship with this particular title, of which I had such high hopes which were so cruelly dashed. A lesson to me, then, to view all short story compilations with a wary eye, and a gentle reminder to you, to take everything I say about short stories with a pinch of salt. Maybe you won’t dislike this as much as I did. Maybe, miracles of all miracles, you’ll even love it. And loving a book, no matter how much someone else hates it, is a lovely thing indeed.

***

ORIGINAL UPDATE:

Blah. Review to come.

***

Disclaimer: I got a copy of this book from the author in exchange for an honest review.

[Anna · Rating 4 out of 5]

I received this book from the publisher in an exchange for an honest review.

An interconnected book of short stories taking place in Rampura, a neighborhood of Lahore, Pakistan. Characters or events from one story might pop up in another story either in passing or heavily featured. It's a short story concept that's very well executed by the author.

The stories themselves remind me a bit of a cosine curve. It starts strong and sucks you in with "Bougainvillea", but hits a trough with "Third One From the Left". Hits a peak again with "Our Zubi Uncle" and then another trough (albeit not as low as the previous one) with "Band in the Rain". And finally ends strong with "Zakaullah". But due to the interwoveness of the stories, it is necessary to read all the stories.

It did feel like the epilogue of "Third One From the Left" could have been a short story in it's own right. This not only shows how interwoven the stores are, but also how long and somewhat meandering that particular story felt. In fact, it feels like all the stories somehow really relate back to this story and it's really a foundation for all the other stories. While it does a good job with that particular task, it never truly finds itself. It reads like a Murakami book that hasn't found it's grounding.

But the stories that are peaks? They're utterly enthralling. If "Third One From the Left" was a Murakami type book that didn't meet it's potential, "Our Zubi Uncle" was a tour de force. The yarns Zubar Uncle was spinning not only had Sunny rapt, but Sarim Baig was doing the same with the reader. The ending of "The Player" still has me thinking.

I think my one major complaint would have to be with the representation of women in the stories. The protagonists of all the stories are men, and the majority of the background characters as well. They're well rounded and we delve deeply into their psyche, their actions, their lives. The women? There's a lack of female perspective or fully fleshed out female characters in any of the 9 stories. When they do show up in stories, they come off as nagging or unfeeling. Read a certain way, they can most certainly be seen as villains or obnoxious or just in the way of the man's journey. Or they're seen as the prize, what you obtain if you accomplish your goals. The entire book is firmly set from a man's perspective, what might be classified as "male angst literature". There's nothing wrong with that. But in some of the stories, the character's interactions with or relationships with women play a role, and to make them 2D character/plot points does everyone a bit of an injustice. I would even say that this was the ultimate downfall of "Third One From the Left". When an entire "category" of characters are underdeveloped, everyone becomes a little less.

As a whole, this a strong debut from Sarim Baig. The stories are evocative and bring you right in. You are guaranteed to still be thinking of characters and stories long after reading.

[Yaser Awan · Rating 5 out of 5]

A few years back I met Sarim Baig by coincidence in the parking lot of our alma matter where he told me about leaving what he was doing for writing a book. I knew then and there that I would want to read the book that he is going to write.
Fast forward to now, as soon as this book came out I got hold of it. I was planning to read it over the weekend but couldn’t resist the temptation and started the same night. The next morning I found myself on a bench in a park with saints and charlatans in my hand and beautiful spring morning around me. The book went through the moods like a spring morning. Playfully switching between a sunny spring that announces the coming summer and a cold chilly winter that just passed by, when sun hides behind those clouds.
The book comprises of intricately weaved stories in and around Rampura , a settlement in the city of Lahore. The author boldly touches the taboos of our society, the delusional youth and all of those characters that we see walk by us and forget that there is a story behind each and everyone of them. The style of storytelling itself is reminiscent of the labyrinth Rampura is, jumping between timelines and perspectives of complex yet simple life at the same time, which is and isn’t at the same instance.
I absolutely loved it. Thank you Sarim for writing this, it’s not very often that we get to read the classic form of story telling around our setting that isn’t overbearingly self righteous.

[M. Ali]

I am lost for words describing how poignant I found Saints and Charlatans. This book is an objectively important achievement in South Asian literature not because it is well written or wonderfully layered, but because of how unabashedly earnest it is. It doesn’t have Mohsin Hamid’s pill popping, or Kamila Shamsie’s beach frolicking elites. What it does have are stories of very real pain, loss, poverty and joy in the most unexpected places.

If you know what it’s like to grow up in central Lahore: getting lost in labyrinthine alleys, the smell of evening meals being cooked, and an awful lot of character in every corner, you’ll feel this book very deeply.

Sarim has effectively managed to write a love-letter to all the Krishn Nagars, Mughalpuras, Lukshmi Chowks and Ichhras in the city – and we’re fortunate that he chose to write it.

[Ahmad Saleem · Rating 5 out of 5]

One thing that shines through all the stories in this book is the author's ability to empathize with every character he has created. The writing as a whole was pretty good too, which helps the book tick all the boxes that matter in a piece of realistic fiction.

This book is not for everyone, but if you're someone who enjoys reading realistic fiction or enjoys watching Italian neorealist cinema/Iranian neowave cinema, I couldn't recommend this book enough. It might be right up your alley.

[TheDoctorReads · Rating 4 out of 5]

To tell you the truth, I was a bit taken aback by the time I finished Sarim Baig's, 'Saints and Charlatans': I had expected a happy-go-lucky book, something light on the eyes and easy on the brain. What I got was a slim book of short-stories that came straight for my heart with a switch-blade and a smirk.

At first glance, you would think that Sarim Baig's work is a continuation of the usual Pakistani Woman, Man and Mangoes © traipsing 'neath Mangrove © forests through the Monsoon © but the stories here are far, far from that typical label. They're too angry, for one thing. For another, the anger here is the quiet kind, not sinister but merely watchful. It leads to a stellar tone and taut pace throughout the book even if it does leave you remorseful and pensive for the state of Pakistan and the every day horror that faces so many of it's citizens on a daily basis.

The stories have an almost O. Henry-esque devotion to characters and their circumstances, how something as inanimate as a slum can still play a vital role in the evolution of people and their motivations. Suratwala and Rampura never actually come across as actively hostile but their sinister moulding of plot and people is as integral to each story as any action committed by either saint or charlatan. And as each story progresses further, the neat distinction between both is lost as easily as Master Ataullah's son in the fog.

Many reviewers have drawn parallels between Murakami and Baig but to me that feels inadequate-- Baig is no Murakami, his characters lack their counterpart's empathy and sensitivity because they're struggling to survive. Their agency is far more primal and, in some cases, more brutal than anything envisioned by Murakami.

It was hard to pick a favourite story in the collection, but the ones that I kept coming back to were 'The Third One From the Left' and 'Band in the Rain'. Both deal with loss and resurrection in haunting echoes of each other. Long after the book was finished, I found myself thinking about Dildar and his lost daughter, Jira in the darkness of the container.

Sarim Baig's exploration of Suratwala and Rampura seems far from over, and I look forward to following him on his journey, even if it doesn't end well, like Fortunato following Montresor deeper into the catacombs beneath a tumultuous nation.

[Sergiy · Rating 4 out of 5]

This collection of stories reads like it's trying to be a novel. The weakest story in my opinion was 'band in the rain'. 'Third one from the left' also suffered from pacing issues and dragged at times; although it seems like the author put a lot of care and attention into it. These issues are what have caused me to deduct a star from an otherwise fantastic book. If there is ever an American edition it might help to have a glossary, however Google worked for me.

Reading this book transported me right into the neighborhood of Rampura. Starting with 'Bougainvillea' and 'The player' the mood was set, and I found myself unable to put the book down. By far my favorite stories were 'Our Zubi uncle' and 'Zakuallah', the latter being a great capstone to this collection (and describes a personal worst imaginable nightmare). The story distribution is well balanced, with the weakest pieces distributed far from each other. The stories all flow very well from one to the next.

As someone who enjoys myths, legends, as well as historical and fantasy writing I was really struck by the setting. The visual backdrop of ancient ruins either overgrown or scattered amongst the new development of Rampura, as well as the rich oral history as revealed in mentions of the the song of Heer. The inclusion of these elements was really well done, and definitely adds to the overall aesthetic of the book.

In terms of writing style I would place Sarim Baig as a mix of Haruki Murakami and Varlam Shalamov.

This book is only available in Pakistan at the moment, however I think the writing style is accessible to a western audience. I think this book definitely deserves a wider release.

I have to disclose that I received a copy of the book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

[Amal · Rating 4 out of 5]

A remarkable debut of Marquez-like magical realism and Dubliners-esque short story structure from the imagined heart of the Pakistani Punjab. His language is evocative and captures the feel of our internal worlds so well. Baig does a commendable job of writing fiction in touch with modern day Pakistani concerns while managing to stay away from political intrigue and pandering.

[Komal · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5

A solid collection of short stories, happily devoid of any pandering to the foreign gaze (stink eye for the majority of desi writers) I do think some stories could have benefited from tighter editing but that didn't take away from how much I enjoyed his rendering of Rampura and its motley crew of characters. Sarim Baig is a writer to watch out for.

[Nakhat Fatima · Rating 5 out of 5]

I purchased this book anticipating a refined prose and creativity. First story created an image, I could see the landscape unfolding, the gimmicks of sunrays, rustle of leaves, sound of silence, the background story, the ebb flow of emotions - and then smash hit the truth. In this case, beauty and grief mingled unveiling human nature, societal pressures and stories that many dare not speak of. I was enthralled. And then during subsequent nights I kept reading. How a small, underdeveloped society and uncouth habitants molded into complexities, despondence, aspirations, adventures, fears and hope. A trip from a shed to two streets away became a narrow creek of fathoms that could not be seen by a passer-by but could only be felt and described to heartaching perfection by a pensive mind and a storyteller of unrelenting virtue. This book might not be for those who are distasted at sight of open gutters and helpless humanity, because this book is painfully true. It has moments of astonished glee that turn into sobs, disgust that turns into pity, saints that twirl in silence and charlatans that control the living, where a common man becomes a hero. I am grateful for a chance to be able to read such a wonderful piece of art.

[Sharmeen Rehan · Rating 5 out of 5]

I finally read it! I was so excited when the parcel with "Saints and Charlatans" finally reached, that I started reading it at lunch until my co-workers started asking me what the book was about and I had to put it down. From the very first page, the words had a grasp on me and I had to keep turning the pages and find out what happens to the characters. Sarim not only tells some interesting stories, he paints pictures with his words that are so vivid you almost feel like you are in Rampura, walking it's windy roads and craving a kebab. When reading, one feels connected with the characters and empathises with them. I'm sure I got some stares in the train on the way home when I laughed out loud at something or my eyes glistened over something else. The book left me wondering what happens next, yet it also had a sense of closure and nostalgia. I strongly recommend you read it if you haven't already! I'm looking forward to the next one.

[Shamsa Abid · Rating 3 out of 5]

I haven't read the whole book. I cant seem to go beyond the third chapter. The stories ive read so far cut a sorry picture of the characters. Its just not my kind of book. The stories may be very close to reality and are very convincing. So effective that they can make you loose your appetite. I most certainly wasn't looking for that. I wouldn't recommend the book to those who are interested in feel-good stories. I would categorize this as a feel-bad book.

[Hasnain Lakhani · Rating 5 out of 5]

I finally finished this book yesterday. It was really refreshing to read something set in Pakistan - and not only that, but a collection of short stories that are intriguing, deep, and thought provoking at the same time.

Not only that - the stories are in the same setting and are connected, which is a technical feat I’m impressed by.

Thanks for writing such a great set of stories, Sarim!

[Saima Absar · Rating 4 out of 5]

very interesting collection of short stories. Very hard to believe this is his first book. Writing is straight forward but the story-telling is extremely compelling.

[Umair Khan · Rating 4 out of 5]

The increasing trend among Pakistani writers expressing themselves through English-language fiction has led to the development of a unique vernacular. It has also exposed readers to the dilemma of differentiating between stories that are rooted in our culture but expressed in a foreign language, and stories that are inspired from the literature of a foreign land. Saints and Charlatans definitely belongs to the former category. Written by Sarim Baig, it is a collection of interconnected short stories. However, the connections are subtle and do not affect the status of each tale as a stand-alone piece of literature.

Baig, a computer science teacher by profession, chose the medium of short stories to reflect upon the world that our middle-class urban youth inhabits, and the author appears to be a keen surveyor of his surroundings. Reading his book reminded me of the experience of reading Ahmed Nadeem Qasmi’s afsanay [short stories] as a teenager, even though Qasmi’s tales were set in the rural Punjab of the mid-20th century while Baig sets his in the urban Lahore of today, and the feel of both writers is as different as the spacio-temporal realities they depict in their writings.
Baig draws his inspiration from studying the living people around him and creates complex characters based on those observations. He comes across as a prolific writer whose mind is haunted by a vast number of jumbled stories that are sieved through the conscious craft of the writer to make them meaningful and sensible for the reader and, as a result, he incorporates several layers into each tale that help him explore his characters in greater detail.

The stories are set in the fictional suburb of Rampura in Lahore and, as they try to unveil the collective consciousness of Rampura’s society, they serve as brilliant commentaries on the individual and communal psychology of our people — primarily that we are always in search of miracles. We crave quick fixes and have no patience for long-term solutions. We have become so gullible that all it takes to fool us is someone making a tall claim of having the ability to solve all of our problems.

The title of the book, Saints and Charlatans, is a clever and appropriate choice given that we, as a society, are fascinated by people who can promise instant deliverance from our problems, whether those problem-solvers be saints or charlatans. The difference between them is the effectiveness of the ‘miracle’ they swear to deliver, but when problems are too complex, there remains no distinction between the two. In the words of one character from the book, “I am a quack but when the disease is incurable what is the difference? I am giving people something, I am selling people hope.” It has a kind of Foucaultian flavour of exploring the thin line between normality and abnormality (madness). Society does not address this madness by trying to find its underlying causes; rather the abnormality is brushed away as being a fault of character and generation after generation is subjected to the same ‘maddening’ circumstances.

As a writer, Baig shows a willingness to experiment with craft and style. Some of the stories show a unique flair for thrill as the narrative leads up to an explosive moment of revelation. Other tales oblige readers to judge the choices made by the characters, encouraging us to challenge the norms of our society. And then there is the classic theme of how those striving for upward social mobility must sever connections with people who were once part of their lives, but who could not climb the social ladder alongside them. Baig also explores the dearth of economic opportunities for the youth in our country and how vulnerable young people, desperate to become productive members of society, are exploited by others. There is also some nuanced discussion of certain taboos.

It is a point to note that all stories are narrated by male characters and there is hardly any presence of females. Perhaps this is because of the gender segregation that is such a deeply entrenched part of our social fabric, as a result of which the male consciousness is devoid of any female voices.

For those who like to read feel-good romances, this is not the book for you. For those who are keen to explore the dark secrets of our society and who want to understand the depths of what motivates people to behave the way they do, Saints and Charlatans will be nothing less than a rollercoaster ride.

Source: https://www.dawn.com/news/1418646/fic...

[Salman Tariq · Rating 4 out of 5]

The first page of the my copy says , "For Salman, Heal the world" . I remember saying him to autograph the book with something that i wont forget .
After reading I wonder. Can pills un-shatter the shattering world of dying amnesiac father ? Do any injection be of any good to young band player who has just lost a baby?

This book is full of such miseries of our land , the people we are unknown to. Its a collection of short stories that revolves around a village and part of it is created in Lahore. You people will love, cry and laugh while reading Zubi uncle's story. Stories are reflection of society , Sarim has done justice to that beside one or two stories. He is way better than his contemporaries ( if we have any writer like such) , especially when he creates imagery with his words , seldom he does that when he does it goes like this

A sunbeam that managed to steal in through the foliage of the mango tree fell exactly on this brow confusion of twins and illuminated it, so that the orange ball in the middle looked like a fallen sun,

The ball dropped from my hand and bounced once and twice, the sounds rebounding like footsteps......

The story " Lord of the garbage" I like the most , It has an ending yet no ending.

[|Life Spent Reading|]

Need to read this recently published short story collection asap🤗😭