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The Glass Palace
Set in Burma during the British invasion of 1885, The Glass Palace tells the story of Rajkumar, a poor boy lifted on the tides of political and social chaos, who goes on to create an empire in the Burmese teak forest. When soldiers force the royal family out of the Glass Palace and into exile, Rajkumar befriends Dolly, a young woman in the court of the Burmese Queen, whose love will shape his life. He cannot forget her, and years later, as a rich man, he goes in search of her. The struggles that have made Burma, India, and Malaya the places they are today are illuminated in this wonderful novel by the writer Chitra Divakaruni calls “a master storyteller.”
552 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2000
1983 people are currently reading
31196 people want to read
About the author
Amitav Ghosh
55 books4,152 followersAmitav Ghosh is an Indian writer. He won the 54th Jnanpith award in 2018, India's highest literary honour. Ghosh's ambitious novels use complex narrative strategies to probe the nature of national and personal identity, particularly of the people of India and South Asia. He has written historical fiction and non-fiction works discussing topics such as colonialism and climate change.
Ghosh studied at The Doon School, Dehradun, and earned a doctorate in social anthropology at the University of Oxford. He worked at the Indian Express newspaper in New Delhi and several academic institutions. His first novel, The Circle of Reason, was published in 1986, which he followed with later fictional works, including The Shadow Lines and The Glass Palace. Between 2004 and 2015, he worked on the Ibis trilogy, which revolves around the build-up and implications of the First Opium War. His non-fiction work includes In an Antique Land (1992) and The Great Derangement: Climate Change and the Unthinkable (2016).
Ghosh holds two Lifetime Achievement awards and four honorary doctorates. In 2007, he was awarded the Padma Shri, one of India's highest honours, by the President of India. In 2010, he was a joint winner, along with Margaret Atwood, of a Dan David prize, and in 2011, he was awarded the Grand Prix of the Blue Metropolis festival in Montreal. He was the first English-language writer to receive the award. In 2019, Foreign Policy magazine named him one of the most important global thinkers of the preceding decade.
Ghosh studied at The Doon School, Dehradun, and earned a doctorate in social anthropology at the University of Oxford. He worked at the Indian Express newspaper in New Delhi and several academic institutions. His first novel, The Circle of Reason, was published in 1986, which he followed with later fictional works, including The Shadow Lines and The Glass Palace. Between 2004 and 2015, he worked on the Ibis trilogy, which revolves around the build-up and implications of the First Opium War. His non-fiction work includes In an Antique Land (1992) and The Great Derangement: Climate Change and the Unthinkable (2016).
Ghosh holds two Lifetime Achievement awards and four honorary doctorates. In 2007, he was awarded the Padma Shri, one of India's highest honours, by the President of India. In 2010, he was a joint winner, along with Margaret Atwood, of a Dan David prize, and in 2011, he was awarded the Grand Prix of the Blue Metropolis festival in Montreal. He was the first English-language writer to receive the award. In 2019, Foreign Policy magazine named him one of the most important global thinkers of the preceding decade.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 2,187 reviews
June 11, 2025
Sigh. The Glass Palace started so well. Why oh why, it lost me on the way?
The blurb, which was the main factor that influenced my buying decision, is deceiving. It says that the novel is “set in Burma during the British invasion of 1885, this masterly novel tells the story of Rajkumar, a poor boy lifted on the tides of political and social chaos, who goes on to create an empire in the Burmese teak forest. When soldiers force the royal family out of the Glass Palace and into exile, Rajkumar befriends Dolly, a young woman in the court of the Burmese Queen, whose love will shape his life. He cannot forget her, and years later, as a rich man, he goes in search of her.”
The part described in the blurb was beautifully written, interesting from a historical point of view. It made me care for the characters. Unfortunately, the British invasion, the meeting of Rajkumar and Dolly, their lives until they meet again and their reunion, take less than 1/3 of the novel. I was mesmerised by that part, I was listening with pleasure and already debating the title of my next Amitav Ghosh.
And then everything fell apart. The novel transformed into a rushed family saga, stretching until WW2. The time jumps were so sudden and sloppy that they left me confused and unsatisfied. I wanted to know more about what happened with X and Y in Malaya/Burma/India. After each jump, the author tried to fill in the gaps, but sadly, it made me feel numb towards the characters and the events. I started to lose track of the political environment as well. After the 2/3 mark, I just wanted the novel to end. Too bad, it started so well.
The blurb, which was the main factor that influenced my buying decision, is deceiving. It says that the novel is “set in Burma during the British invasion of 1885, this masterly novel tells the story of Rajkumar, a poor boy lifted on the tides of political and social chaos, who goes on to create an empire in the Burmese teak forest. When soldiers force the royal family out of the Glass Palace and into exile, Rajkumar befriends Dolly, a young woman in the court of the Burmese Queen, whose love will shape his life. He cannot forget her, and years later, as a rich man, he goes in search of her.”
The part described in the blurb was beautifully written, interesting from a historical point of view. It made me care for the characters. Unfortunately, the British invasion, the meeting of Rajkumar and Dolly, their lives until they meet again and their reunion, take less than 1/3 of the novel. I was mesmerised by that part, I was listening with pleasure and already debating the title of my next Amitav Ghosh.
And then everything fell apart. The novel transformed into a rushed family saga, stretching until WW2. The time jumps were so sudden and sloppy that they left me confused and unsatisfied. I wanted to know more about what happened with X and Y in Malaya/Burma/India. After each jump, the author tried to fill in the gaps, but sadly, it made me feel numb towards the characters and the events. I started to lose track of the political environment as well. After the 2/3 mark, I just wanted the novel to end. Too bad, it started so well.
November 27, 2010
Yes. This is why I read historical fiction.
Amitav Ghosh devoted five years of his life to the travel, research, and writing required to tell this story. It follows the mingled fates of three families and three countries--Burma, India, and Malaya, from 1885 through the mid-1990s. The story begins with the British takeover of the kingdom of Burma as its king and queen are exiled to a remote compound in India. Through the lives of the orphan Rajkumar, his mentor Saya John, the girl Dolly, and her friend Uma, this sweeping tale explores the intricacies of colonialism, wars, divided loyalties, race relations, and the exploitation of subjugated peoples and their natural resources.
The complexity of this work is astounding. Ghosh displays a deep understanding of local cultures and sentiments as well as of world history and politics. It's a challenging read with a few dry patches in the early pages, becoming progressively more exciting and touching. I finished the last 135 pages all in one go. I love the way Ghosh allows the family histories to cycle back around as Jaya searches for connections with her relatives and traces their legacy of courage and love, successes and sacrifices. I cried and cried.
Amitav Ghosh devoted five years of his life to the travel, research, and writing required to tell this story. It follows the mingled fates of three families and three countries--Burma, India, and Malaya, from 1885 through the mid-1990s. The story begins with the British takeover of the kingdom of Burma as its king and queen are exiled to a remote compound in India. Through the lives of the orphan Rajkumar, his mentor Saya John, the girl Dolly, and her friend Uma, this sweeping tale explores the intricacies of colonialism, wars, divided loyalties, race relations, and the exploitation of subjugated peoples and their natural resources.
The complexity of this work is astounding. Ghosh displays a deep understanding of local cultures and sentiments as well as of world history and politics. It's a challenging read with a few dry patches in the early pages, becoming progressively more exciting and touching. I finished the last 135 pages all in one go. I love the way Ghosh allows the family histories to cycle back around as Jaya searches for connections with her relatives and traces their legacy of courage and love, successes and sacrifices. I cried and cried.
May 19, 2011
During my pre-vegetarian days, I used to find solace in a warm, juicy scrumptious steak n’ cheese sandwich washed down by a chilled Heineken. Especially, if the gooey cheese was a blend of Munster, Monterey jack and yellow cheddar; the bread not too soggy but aptly moisten by the beef gravy. It is pure bliss. On the other hand, a classier version for $150 is layered with buttered lobsters, black truffles and caviar. Now, why would someone mess up such a meticulous appetizing combination? Stop! Do not ruin the sandwich. Sometimes finding equilibrium with the culinary fest becomes essential to restrict the malfunction of the taste buds. What a fucking nincompoop you would say, comparing an internationally acclaimed novel to a mere sandwich. Hey! I am somehow craving for meat now and couldn’t find a better way to evaluate this book. I am not going to air kiss and bestow courteous admiring comments as to how the book merges a fascinating piece of history with a gratifying story. The cynical bitch that I am, I want to know if it was worth my money.
Encyclopedia! Encyclopedia! That is the golden word here. C’mon Ghosh, you know better that sometimes too much chronological information in a fiction novel can be irksome and skepticism may prevail over the respective purchase. There were times, many times throughout the narration, I wished to have simply bought a non-fiction Burmese history book and could have used the remaining to purchase some beer. Alcohol did prove to be a crucial company during some parts of my reading. One thing you should be sure of, Ghosh loves history and with his books one can gain knowledge of varied historical eras. For all the history buffs out there, it’s treat fellas!!! Just like his in depth elucidations on the opium wars in Sea of Poppies, Ghosh spans put this plot over a century ranging from the fall of Mandalay, the World wars(I&II), the Japanese invasion of Malay, the Indian independence and finally the modern times with a mention of Aung San Suu Kyi.Phew!!! It is not that bad. The transformation of landscapes and the changes in fortune and agricultural economies turn out to be quite mesmerizing. The exile of King Thibaw and the aftermath of his family life in the western coastal region of India was job well done.As for the creative writing part of it, the lives and families of Rajkumar and Dolly over three generations were loosely scripted and eventually got a bit unexciting. At times there is hurriedness in the author’s writing which can be evidently seen in the abrupt endings of some chapters. It seems like Ghosh, at some point must have been overwhelmed with his subjective research and could not find symmetry between reality and fantasy. Just like the fancy steak sandwich; all those flavors of buttered crustacean, meat, cheese, truffles and maybe salmon roe, it a medley of disaster. It is not worth to separate the ingredients and if eaten in it entirety one cannot taste a damn thing.
Lastly, I like to thank the makers of Heineken for not only making the vegetarians a happy bunch of people, but ,also for a superb fermentation process without which there would not be any chilled beer to be pleasured on a blistering day and help my reading. As for Ghosh, darling, it would be an immense delight to meet you in person; as far as the books goes I would delightfully adore them only through the display windows.
Encyclopedia! Encyclopedia! That is the golden word here. C’mon Ghosh, you know better that sometimes too much chronological information in a fiction novel can be irksome and skepticism may prevail over the respective purchase. There were times, many times throughout the narration, I wished to have simply bought a non-fiction Burmese history book and could have used the remaining to purchase some beer. Alcohol did prove to be a crucial company during some parts of my reading. One thing you should be sure of, Ghosh loves history and with his books one can gain knowledge of varied historical eras. For all the history buffs out there, it’s treat fellas!!! Just like his in depth elucidations on the opium wars in Sea of Poppies, Ghosh spans put this plot over a century ranging from the fall of Mandalay, the World wars(I&II), the Japanese invasion of Malay, the Indian independence and finally the modern times with a mention of Aung San Suu Kyi.Phew!!! It is not that bad. The transformation of landscapes and the changes in fortune and agricultural economies turn out to be quite mesmerizing. The exile of King Thibaw and the aftermath of his family life in the western coastal region of India was job well done.As for the creative writing part of it, the lives and families of Rajkumar and Dolly over three generations were loosely scripted and eventually got a bit unexciting. At times there is hurriedness in the author’s writing which can be evidently seen in the abrupt endings of some chapters. It seems like Ghosh, at some point must have been overwhelmed with his subjective research and could not find symmetry between reality and fantasy. Just like the fancy steak sandwich; all those flavors of buttered crustacean, meat, cheese, truffles and maybe salmon roe, it a medley of disaster. It is not worth to separate the ingredients and if eaten in it entirety one cannot taste a damn thing.
Lastly, I like to thank the makers of Heineken for not only making the vegetarians a happy bunch of people, but ,also for a superb fermentation process without which there would not be any chilled beer to be pleasured on a blistering day and help my reading. As for Ghosh, darling, it would be an immense delight to meet you in person; as far as the books goes I would delightfully adore them only through the display windows.
March 5, 2017
Amitav Ghosh tells the story of a family and the tumultuous history of Burma (Myanmar). Burma is a country ravaged by war for more than fifty years, which only became a delicate new democracy in 2015. Beautiful people in The Golden Land, live amidst the most scenic places on earth. It's teak forests, gold, rubber, and other natural resources formed part of the colonial land grabbing in the 1800s, having Britain as their ruler for more than 100 years. Kipling's visit to Rangoon in Burma, inspired his poem "Mandalay" in 1890.
This is a beautiful book. An atmospheric, picturesque tale of a family's struggles through decades, probably eighty years, to survive the politics and social revolt in a country ravaged by greed and expansionism.
A wealth of characters form the backbone of the saga. Rahkumar and Dolly are the main characters, starting out the journey for themselves and their descendants.
Amitav Gosh, not only captured the battle on the streets, in public squares, battlefields, palaces and gardens, he went into the houses-intruding, violating privacy, to bring this tale alive.
An excellent historical fiction experience. So well written and so detailed. Mindblowing. The only reason why I don't rate it higher is because it was too long. But by gosh ... it would not have been the same read if much of the scenic background and social dynamics were not added to all the different strains of each character's life.
Quote from the book: "...politics has invaded everything, spared nothing . . . religion, art, family . . . it has taken over everything . . . there is no escape from it . . . and yet, what could be more trivial, in the end."
A really great read.
This is a beautiful book. An atmospheric, picturesque tale of a family's struggles through decades, probably eighty years, to survive the politics and social revolt in a country ravaged by greed and expansionism.
A wealth of characters form the backbone of the saga. Rahkumar and Dolly are the main characters, starting out the journey for themselves and their descendants.
Amitav Gosh, not only captured the battle on the streets, in public squares, battlefields, palaces and gardens, he went into the houses-intruding, violating privacy, to bring this tale alive.
An excellent historical fiction experience. So well written and so detailed. Mindblowing. The only reason why I don't rate it higher is because it was too long. But by gosh ... it would not have been the same read if much of the scenic background and social dynamics were not added to all the different strains of each character's life.
Quote from the book: "...politics has invaded everything, spared nothing . . . religion, art, family . . . it has taken over everything . . . there is no escape from it . . . and yet, what could be more trivial, in the end."
A really great read.
March 1, 2010
Most of the historical fiction books I've read have tried to do three things -- evoke a sense of time and place, depict historical events through the eyes of their characters, and last (and often least, unfortunately, even though this is ostensibly the reason to read a novel in the first place), create multifaceted characters who are experiencing their own growth, development, and plot. The best historical fiction books I've read integrated all three of these goals into a smooth and readable narrative -- Gone With the Wind, for instance. Unfortunately, much of the historical fiction I've read has been mediocre and concentrated heavily on the first two goals -- describing the time and place, and following the historical timeline. The third goal, that of creating an interesting plot and believable characters in their own right rather than simply using them as an excuse to give us the history, often falls short.
This was the case here as well.If I were really honest, I'd put this on my "couldn't finish" shelf because I actually skimmed about 3/4 of it. But since I did, in fact, push myself all the way to the end, I'll give myself a pass.
I started out enjoying this book. Ghosh's writing evoked the scene, and I wanted to read more about the characters and their travails. That ended, though, when things suddenly became choppy and contrived. I want this character to get rich, Ghosh apparently decided, so I'll have him make this deal, have the other characters pay some lip service to how risky it is, and boom! It works out! Now, thought Ghosh, I want these two long-lost people to reunite and end up marrying. So, a quick reunion, a summary rejection by the woman, and then a dramatic scene where she changes her mind just as he's leaving and has to chase him down. Poof! They're married. Many important events happened this way, while other parts of the book were extremely long and draggy -- unnecessarily so, in my opinion. Much of the book seemed like an effort to situate the characters in convenient times and places so as to give us some history and promote an anti-colonialist agenda. Not that I'm a fan of colonialism, but I'm also not a fan of agenda-driven novels.
I did enjoy the fact that Ghosh focused on an unfamiliar (to me) setting -- Burma -- and made me more aware of both its own history and its role in world events. And I was interested in the characters and in what would happen to them -- at first. Unfortunately, somewhere after p. 100 the story started to fall flat for me, and then more and more characters and jumpy subplots were introduced as I found myself less and less motivated to follow them.
I read Sea of Poppies, a later book by Ghosh, a while back and really enjoyed it. I guess he matured as a writer, which is nice. In this earlier novel, you do see his potential but from what I can see, his later work is much better.
This was the case here as well.If I were really honest, I'd put this on my "couldn't finish" shelf because I actually skimmed about 3/4 of it. But since I did, in fact, push myself all the way to the end, I'll give myself a pass.
I started out enjoying this book. Ghosh's writing evoked the scene, and I wanted to read more about the characters and their travails. That ended, though, when things suddenly became choppy and contrived. I want this character to get rich, Ghosh apparently decided, so I'll have him make this deal, have the other characters pay some lip service to how risky it is, and boom! It works out! Now, thought Ghosh, I want these two long-lost people to reunite and end up marrying. So, a quick reunion, a summary rejection by the woman, and then a dramatic scene where she changes her mind just as he's leaving and has to chase him down. Poof! They're married. Many important events happened this way, while other parts of the book were extremely long and draggy -- unnecessarily so, in my opinion. Much of the book seemed like an effort to situate the characters in convenient times and places so as to give us some history and promote an anti-colonialist agenda. Not that I'm a fan of colonialism, but I'm also not a fan of agenda-driven novels.
I did enjoy the fact that Ghosh focused on an unfamiliar (to me) setting -- Burma -- and made me more aware of both its own history and its role in world events. And I was interested in the characters and in what would happen to them -- at first. Unfortunately, somewhere after p. 100 the story started to fall flat for me, and then more and more characters and jumpy subplots were introduced as I found myself less and less motivated to follow them.
I read Sea of Poppies, a later book by Ghosh, a while back and really enjoyed it. I guess he matured as a writer, which is nice. In this earlier novel, you do see his potential but from what I can see, his later work is much better.
August 27, 2013
Wow! I have just finished one of my new favourite books! And I believe I will hit the "become a fan" button on Ghosh's page here on Goodreads after I finish this! (I loved Sea of Poppies and River of Smoke too) This book was a fantastic ride through part of South East Asia's history! A fascinating family drama that never bored. Well-written and a sad but also touching end. Well Done!!
May 6, 2015
If you like sagas, this was a good one, but in common with a lot of sagas is the large cast of characters. Although I do rate Amitav Ghosh as a writer with great ability to draw characters, this time by the end of the book I couldn't keep straight who was who and what relationship they had to each other. Often the people I was most interested in, just featured in a small bit of the book and after that heard from only in passing.
After a long gap of years, I have only recently resumed reading light fiction, and probably I expect too much of it after immersing myself in many of the 'greats' and a lot of non-fiction. I was drawn to this book though after reading Aravind Adiga's White Tiger and remembering how much I used to enjoy stories of the Raj - Paul Scott, E.M. Forster etc - and read Ghosh's latest, Sea of Poppies, which I loved. I didn't enjoy the Glass Palace as much as Sea of Poppies but still... as I say, maybe I expect too much.
After a long gap of years, I have only recently resumed reading light fiction, and probably I expect too much of it after immersing myself in many of the 'greats' and a lot of non-fiction. I was drawn to this book though after reading Aravind Adiga's White Tiger and remembering how much I used to enjoy stories of the Raj - Paul Scott, E.M. Forster etc - and read Ghosh's latest, Sea of Poppies, which I loved. I didn't enjoy the Glass Palace as much as Sea of Poppies but still... as I say, maybe I expect too much.
March 30, 2018
‘The Glass Palace’ is a story which grows on the reader; gradually the characters, who at first seem like well-constructed caricatures, begin to resonate, their lives, passions, trials and tribulations draw the reader in, as they become increasingly invested in the exploration of the history three generations of a Indo-Burmese family.
The story begins in the final days of pre-colonial Burma, as the enterprising young orphan Rajkumar begins his rise to wealth-that this rise is largely based on exploitation and a kind of swaggering bravado is more a result of the opportunities which Rajkumar had available to him; in a colonial system which is based on exploitation and subjugation the only way to succeed-financially-is to ape the mannerisms and methods of the colonialists. This is not to excuse Rajkumar’s actions, but more to offer an explanation. Indeed one of the core themes of the book is that of actions and morality; rather than offer a simplistic view of morality, Ghosh colours his characters actions with varying shades of grey, from the mutiny of Arjan, whose bluster and good-will gradually dissolve in the dehumanisation of war, to Uma, whose supercilious demeanour belies her passionate humanism, Ghosh expertly weaves a rich tapestry of motivations behind the actions of the characters.
The other key theme of the novel is colonialism, as one of the characters Dinu states;
“Did we ever have a hope? We rebelled against an empire that has shaped everything in our lives; coloured everything in the world as we know it. It is a huge, indelible stain which has tainted all of us. We cannot destroy it without destroying ourselves.”
The characters inhabit a world in which the insurmountable weight of colonialism holds them down, whether it is fighting a war which isn’t theirs or seeing themselves via the prism of subjugation, where they are, to their oppressors at least, barely half-human. However, despite colonialism being a key theme in the novel, ‘The Glass Palace’, Ghosh does not allow this to limit the richness of the inner lives of the characters. Instead, he is able to colour their relationship, from the failed marriage of The Collector and Uma, based on The Collector’s desire to have a liberal and westernised wife in a world where women where women were barely granted any freedoms, or between Rajkumar and Dolly, who gradually build their love, or between Dinu and Alison, who gradually becomes more attracted to Dinu’s diffident, almost effeminate qualities after a brief liaison with the boisterous Arjan, ‘The Glass Palace’ is fundamentally a novel about human relationships and love, of the slow unravelling of memory in the passage of time; of the lives of characters which were bound to be lost but for some innocuous photographs which were able to capture their all too brief existence.
The story begins in the final days of pre-colonial Burma, as the enterprising young orphan Rajkumar begins his rise to wealth-that this rise is largely based on exploitation and a kind of swaggering bravado is more a result of the opportunities which Rajkumar had available to him; in a colonial system which is based on exploitation and subjugation the only way to succeed-financially-is to ape the mannerisms and methods of the colonialists. This is not to excuse Rajkumar’s actions, but more to offer an explanation. Indeed one of the core themes of the book is that of actions and morality; rather than offer a simplistic view of morality, Ghosh colours his characters actions with varying shades of grey, from the mutiny of Arjan, whose bluster and good-will gradually dissolve in the dehumanisation of war, to Uma, whose supercilious demeanour belies her passionate humanism, Ghosh expertly weaves a rich tapestry of motivations behind the actions of the characters.
The other key theme of the novel is colonialism, as one of the characters Dinu states;
“Did we ever have a hope? We rebelled against an empire that has shaped everything in our lives; coloured everything in the world as we know it. It is a huge, indelible stain which has tainted all of us. We cannot destroy it without destroying ourselves.”
The characters inhabit a world in which the insurmountable weight of colonialism holds them down, whether it is fighting a war which isn’t theirs or seeing themselves via the prism of subjugation, where they are, to their oppressors at least, barely half-human. However, despite colonialism being a key theme in the novel, ‘The Glass Palace’, Ghosh does not allow this to limit the richness of the inner lives of the characters. Instead, he is able to colour their relationship, from the failed marriage of The Collector and Uma, based on The Collector’s desire to have a liberal and westernised wife in a world where women where women were barely granted any freedoms, or between Rajkumar and Dolly, who gradually build their love, or between Dinu and Alison, who gradually becomes more attracted to Dinu’s diffident, almost effeminate qualities after a brief liaison with the boisterous Arjan, ‘The Glass Palace’ is fundamentally a novel about human relationships and love, of the slow unravelling of memory in the passage of time; of the lives of characters which were bound to be lost but for some innocuous photographs which were able to capture their all too brief existence.
December 26, 2007
The first person I recommended this book to was an English professor, who said she was immediately "transfixed." Undoubtedly Amitav Ghosh's masterpiece (his other novels do not even compare), The Glass Palace is an epic that takes place over three generations of a multi-ethnic and multi-class families in Southeast Asia. Ghosh sets the novel in the Bengal region, which straddles modern-day borders of India, Bangladesh, Burma, and Malaysia, demonstrating how the porous nature of these cultures makes a significant argument against the arbitrary boundaries drawn during the colonial eras. The Glass Palace is both a critique and celebration of modernity, wrought through dynamic characters you come to know as family, indubitable historical descriptions that you feel Ghosh knows intimately, and myriad images, smells, sounds, and feeling compiled through a kind of snapshot montage. Regardless of your personal history, reading The Glass Palace is like leafing through your own family's photo album.
September 10, 2009
What exactly can one say about “The Glass Palace?” Amitav Ghosh, with his lyrical prose, intricate characters, and extraordinary gift for research, never ceases to amaze. How many other writers could offer a work of such sweep -- following an extended family’s triumphs and travails through 115 years of Burmese history – enwrapping the reader in each moment and personality so completely that you find yourself holding your breath?
If you consider yourself reasonably well educated and have only thought about Burma in so much as is ruled by a murderous junta with an endless appetite for superstition and poor taste in names for their country, Ghosh has a lot to tell you. As with all of his novels, this is no small part of the pleasure that comes with reading “The Glass Palace,” receiving a fascinating education folded so delicately into a great story that you often fail to realize how much you are learning. Who knew that Burma was considered the most valuable province in the British Empire for much of the 20th century, worth more than all of India? I didn’t. Likewise, I was as ever mesmerized by Ghosh’s treatment of the complex social dynamics of colonial India.
Yet more than an education, this novel shines for its perfectly constructed characters and their wonderful, complex relationships. The love stories which thread through the story come as touching, warm, and as often as not, heart rending. At times I found myself almost weeping for their failures, even as I cheered their successes. At times, one feels an almost Tolstoy like intricacy in these characters’ relationships.
For those unfamiliar with Ghosh, “The Glass Palace” is a great place to begin a journey with one of the world’s great living novelists. Once you take this one step with him, you really won’t want to stop, and will run to read another of his novels. Yes, he rally is that extraordinarily brilliant.
If you consider yourself reasonably well educated and have only thought about Burma in so much as is ruled by a murderous junta with an endless appetite for superstition and poor taste in names for their country, Ghosh has a lot to tell you. As with all of his novels, this is no small part of the pleasure that comes with reading “The Glass Palace,” receiving a fascinating education folded so delicately into a great story that you often fail to realize how much you are learning. Who knew that Burma was considered the most valuable province in the British Empire for much of the 20th century, worth more than all of India? I didn’t. Likewise, I was as ever mesmerized by Ghosh’s treatment of the complex social dynamics of colonial India.
Yet more than an education, this novel shines for its perfectly constructed characters and their wonderful, complex relationships. The love stories which thread through the story come as touching, warm, and as often as not, heart rending. At times I found myself almost weeping for their failures, even as I cheered their successes. At times, one feels an almost Tolstoy like intricacy in these characters’ relationships.
For those unfamiliar with Ghosh, “The Glass Palace” is a great place to begin a journey with one of the world’s great living novelists. Once you take this one step with him, you really won’t want to stop, and will run to read another of his novels. Yes, he rally is that extraordinarily brilliant.
December 2, 2023
I have not enjoyed this saga as much as I might have wished. The subject is the present source of my interest, and with any novel that covers historical events, there was much to look up. I had no knowledge of the overthrow of the Burmese Royal family by British imperialism, and for all my WW2 reading over many years the Burma campaign is genuinely the area that I have never read about.
There was much to look forward to. Sadly, I found that I was losing myself many times and having to reread. I don’t expect stories like this to hurry along, but the characters seemed far too lifeless, and the events described shallow. All in all, this became a chore at times. The writing about such events as Indian nationalism that played such a big role in the latter part of the story lacked any kind of flair to keep me glued to the pages. The three generation family story was just a little too melodramatic at times and with that The Glass Palace became too long. I suppose it would make a fine miniseries for those that like that type of thing. Just not for me.
There was much to look forward to. Sadly, I found that I was losing myself many times and having to reread. I don’t expect stories like this to hurry along, but the characters seemed far too lifeless, and the events described shallow. All in all, this became a chore at times. The writing about such events as Indian nationalism that played such a big role in the latter part of the story lacked any kind of flair to keep me glued to the pages. The three generation family story was just a little too melodramatic at times and with that The Glass Palace became too long. I suppose it would make a fine miniseries for those that like that type of thing. Just not for me.
February 24, 2022
After the "Sea of Poppies" it was impossible to just stop reading Amitav Gosh. While waiting for the continuation of the "Ibis Trilogy" to be available, I took this Burmese novel in an amateur, but quite good translation. And I didn't regret it. The impression of the book is very worthy.
The epic scope, power and filigree plot of the trilogy, the first novel of which will be written eight years later, is not yet epic, but the hand of the master is visible in everything. "The Glass Palace" is a family saga in the exotic surroundings of Southeast Asia: once golden Burma, now Myanmar, India, the Malay Archipelago.
The story that began in 1885, when the relatively peaceful British colonization of Burma with the preservation of the monarchy passed into a phase of armed conflict over the main export item - teak. However, the battle ended before it could begin, the funny Burmese army fled at the first volleys, and the obstinate royal family was forced to leave the Glass Palace and go into exile.
On the day when the mob looted the royal residence, the first meeting of Rajkumar and Dolly took place. An orphan servant "for everything" in a street noodle shop saw a girl from among the queen's maids - she surrounded herself with beautiful orphans, confident that if you can rely on someone's devotion, then on someone who has no one in the world but a patroness.
Замурованные в стекле времени
Они говорили о "рабстве", например, всегда используя английское слово. А Индия была сияющей горой за горизонтом метафорой свободы.
После "Макового моря" нельзя было вот просто так взять и перестать читать Амитава Гоша. В ожидании, когда продолжение "Ибисной трилогии" окажется доступным, я взяла этот бирманский роман в любительском, но довольно неплохом переводе. И не пожалела. Впечатление от книги очень достойное.
Еще не эпический размах, мощь и филигранная сюжетная вязь трилогии, первый роман которой будет написан спустя восемь лет, но рука мастера видна во всем. "Стеклянный дворец" семейная сага в экзотическом антураже Юго-Восточной Азии: некогда золотой Бирмы, ныне Мьянмы, Индии, Малайского архипелага.
История, которая началась в 1885 году, когда относительно мирная британская колонизация Бирмы с сохранением монархии перешла в фазу вооруженного конфликта из-за основной статьи экспорта - тикового дерева. Впрочем, сражение закончилось, не успев начаться, потешное бирманское войско разбежалось при первых залпах, а строптивое королевское семейство вынуждено было оставить Стеклянный дворец и отправиться в изгнание.
В день, когда толпа грабила королевскую резиденцию, состоялась первая встреча Раджкумара и Долли. Сирота прислужник "за все" в уличной лапшевне увидел девочку из числа служанок королевы - та окружала себя красивыми сиротами, уверенная, что если на чью преданность можно положиться - так на того, у кого никого в мире нет, кроме покровительницы.
Расчет оказался верным - в изгнание за королевской семьей последовали именно эти служаночки, а нищему парнишке трудолюбие, деловая хватка и благосклонность фортуны с годами позволили сделаться преуспевающим торговцем тиковым деревом (с которого все началось). Тут стоит сказать несколько слов об этой ценной древесине, до сих важнейшей экспортной статьи Индонезии и Мьянмы, запасы которой не истощаются, благодаря возобновляемости посадок. В регионе с не самым развитым уровнем природоохраны, экономическая необходимость сделала лесопосадки нормой.
Амитав Гош замечательно хорош с описаниями интересных этнических подробностей, так тиковый бизнес в непроходимых джунглях целиком строится на слоновьей тягловой силе. О слонах, об их повадках, тонкостях воспитания и дрессуры, делающих этих гигантов послушным орудием погонщиков, об особенностях их поведения, как например боязнь резких звуков, о болезнях - обо всем этом в книге не только очень интересно, но и важные сюжетные повороты строятся на знании этих нюансов.
Пристальное внимание к животному и растительному царству неотъемлемая черта писателя. В "Ибисной трилогии" травянистым растениям разного рода уделяется огромное внимание, герои "Стеклянного дворца" связывают свою жизнь с деревьями, которые становятся важной частью истории. Тиковое, о нем уже говорилось (кстати, на обложке изображен мост Убэйн, самый длинный тиковый мост, построенный в 1850 году), и также гуттаперченосных деревьев, плантацию которых разобьет друг и деловой партнер героя. Взлет каучука с развитием автомобильной промышленности в начале прошлого века, и падение - с изобретением синтетической резины, станет отдельной интересной историей книги.
Что до традиционной семейной саги, она скорее не получилась. Когда половину объема романа занимает время от первой встречи героев ��о женитьбы, а остальные девяносто лет с детьми, внуками, правнуками, Второй Мировой, политической борьбой, гражданскими войнами, путчами и репрессиями в странах, охваченных действием книги - вбиты во вторую половину, действие неминуемо комкается, а внимание рассеивается.
И все-таки, здесь по-настоящему сложные отношения, яркая экзотика и сильные сцены, ради которых стоит прочесть эту книгу.
The epic scope, power and filigree plot of the trilogy, the first novel of which will be written eight years later, is not yet epic, but the hand of the master is visible in everything. "The Glass Palace" is a family saga in the exotic surroundings of Southeast Asia: once golden Burma, now Myanmar, India, the Malay Archipelago.
The story that began in 1885, when the relatively peaceful British colonization of Burma with the preservation of the monarchy passed into a phase of armed conflict over the main export item - teak. However, the battle ended before it could begin, the funny Burmese army fled at the first volleys, and the obstinate royal family was forced to leave the Glass Palace and go into exile.
On the day when the mob looted the royal residence, the first meeting of Rajkumar and Dolly took place. An orphan servant "for everything" in a street noodle shop saw a girl from among the queen's maids - she surrounded herself with beautiful orphans, confident that if you can rely on someone's devotion, then on someone who has no one in the world but a patroness.
Замурованные в стекле времени
Они говорили о "рабстве", например, всегда используя английское слово. А Индия была сияющей горой за горизонтом метафорой свободы.
После "Макового моря" нельзя было вот просто так взять и перестать читать Амитава Гоша. В ожидании, когда продолжение "Ибисной трилогии" окажется доступным, я взяла этот бирманский роман в любительском, но довольно неплохом переводе. И не пожалела. Впечатление от книги очень достойное.
Еще не эпический размах, мощь и филигранная сюжетная вязь трилогии, первый роман которой будет написан спустя восемь лет, но рука мастера видна во всем. "Стеклянный дворец" семейная сага в экзотическом антураже Юго-Восточной Азии: некогда золотой Бирмы, ныне Мьянмы, Индии, Малайского архипелага.
История, которая началась в 1885 году, когда относительно мирная британская колонизация Бирмы с сохранением монархии перешла в фазу вооруженного конфликта из-за основной статьи экспорта - тикового дерева. Впрочем, сражение закончилось, не успев начаться, потешное бирманское войско разбежалось при первых залпах, а строптивое королевское семейство вынуждено было оставить Стеклянный дворец и отправиться в изгнание.
В день, когда толпа грабила королевскую резиденцию, состоялась первая встреча Раджкумара и Долли. Сирота прислужник "за все" в уличной лапшевне увидел девочку из числа служанок королевы - та окружала себя красивыми сиротами, уверенная, что если на чью преданность можно положиться - так на того, у кого никого в мире нет, кроме покровительницы.
Расчет оказался верным - в изгнание за королевской семьей последовали именно эти служаночки, а нищему парнишке трудолюбие, деловая хватка и благосклонность фортуны с годами позволили сделаться преуспевающим торговцем тиковым деревом (с которого все началось). Тут стоит сказать несколько слов об этой ценной древесине, до сих важнейшей экспортной статьи Индонезии и Мьянмы, запасы которой не истощаются, благодаря возобновляемости посадок. В регионе с не самым развитым уровнем природоохраны, экономическая необходимость сделала лесопосадки нормой.
Амитав Гош замечательно хорош с описаниями интересных этнических подробностей, так тиковый бизнес в непроходимых джунглях целиком строится на слоновьей тягловой силе. О слонах, об их повадках, тонкостях воспитания и дрессуры, делающих этих гигантов послушным орудием погонщиков, об особенностях их поведения, как например боязнь резких звуков, о болезнях - обо всем этом в книге не только очень интересно, но и важные сюжетные повороты строятся на знании этих нюансов.
Пристальное внимание к животному и растительному царству неотъемлемая черта писателя. В "Ибисной трилогии" травянистым растениям разного рода уделяется огромное внимание, герои "Стеклянного дворца" связывают свою жизнь с деревьями, которые становятся важной частью истории. Тиковое, о нем уже говорилось (кстати, на обложке изображен мост Убэйн, самый длинный тиковый мост, построенный в 1850 году), и также гуттаперченосных деревьев, плантацию которых разобьет друг и деловой партнер героя. Взлет каучука с развитием автомобильной промышленности в начале прошлого века, и падение - с изобретением синтетической резины, станет отдельной интересной историей книги.
Что до традиционной семейной саги, она скорее не получилась. Когда половину объема романа занимает время от первой встречи героев ��о женитьбы, а остальные девяносто лет с детьми, внуками, правнуками, Второй Мировой, политической борьбой, гражданскими войнами, путчами и репрессиями в странах, охваченных действием книги - вбиты во вторую половину, действие неминуемо комкается, а внимание рассеивается.
И все-таки, здесь по-настоящему сложные отношения, яркая экзотика и сильные сцены, ради которых стоит прочесть эту книгу.
October 6, 2008
This book is epic in length and covers three generations of Indians in the countries of Malaya and Burma (Myanmar) from 1885 until the end of the twentieth century. This is a very large scope and it is covered by disconnected chapters that are almost standalone essays. A few are strongly written - the torn loyalties of the Indian soldier when faced with continuing to serve a British master as part of the empire or switching to the Japanese side to drive the British out. Some of the essay / chapters seem to build to a point of interest and then abruptly end. The subsequent actions of the characters may never be revealed, may be revealed multiple essays forward or might have been tucked into a prior chapter as 'throw away' detail. I would only recommend this book to someone who was interested in a very high-level understanding of Indians in Burma. I did not understand or empathize with any of the characters and would have preferred more in depth coverage of a shorter period of time. Maybe it is an Eastern "War and Peace" and needs to be read several times.
September 3, 2014
Time to admit that this is not getting finished. Despite being in Mandalay when I started it, I found that this book, which is rather too abrupt in jumping from decade to decade and generation to generation, also dragged and failed to engage. I feel like Ghosh is a writer with flashes of a brilliance I could love who too often gets tangled up in his need to instruct, to fill in the deplorable gaps in our understanding of colonialism and Southeast Asia. I feel his pain at the reader's ignorance, my ignorance, But character development too often gets squeezed out in his books, and I'd rather read good history or good fiction than something which gets in its own way too much to be either.
August 25, 2021
“To use the past to justify the present is bad enough—but it’s just as bad to use the present to justify the past.”
― Amitav Ghosh, The Glass Palace
Although in 2020 when I added this book to my Goodreads I couldn't remember this book at all - the whole British colonial days in the East theme of this historical fiction, sounds a lot like my type of read. A not too bad 6.5 out of 12 was given by me back in 2007, so I'd say it's worth a read.
― Amitav Ghosh, The Glass Palace
Although in 2020 when I added this book to my Goodreads I couldn't remember this book at all - the whole British colonial days in the East theme of this historical fiction, sounds a lot like my type of read. A not too bad 6.5 out of 12 was given by me back in 2007, so I'd say it's worth a read.
November 29, 2017
4,5
This is the story about Burma from the British colonisation till the years after WWII and some hints to modern times. But it is also the story about the exile of the last Burmese king and his family and their life in India; it is the story of the British colonisation of Burma but with some hints also to its colonisation in India and Malaysia; it is the story of Rajkumar, an Indian orphan that lives and works in Burma, of his family and several good friends of him and his wife. Reading this book the reader knows also more about the Indian National Army and why some Indian soldiers decided to mutiny from the British Army. The story is set in Burma, India and also Malaysia.
There is really a lot in this book though the main focus is on Burma, its history and Rajkumar's family.
I liked this book because I didn't know a lot about the colonisation of Burma, and it was also a real pageturner. I was never bored by the story.
Despite this I can't rate it with 5* because the story about the Burmese king and his family's exile, and therefore also the story about Rajkumar's and Dolly's youth, was very long and detailed, while the last part of the book (about the second and third generation of Rajkumar's family) was shorter and there were some time leaps. I would have liked this second part, both about the history of Burma and the family members, to be more detailed even if I should have read several additional pages. I would have liked also to know more about the Burmese princesses and what happened to them once married.
It is a very engrossing and interesting book and I like Ghosh's writing style. It is a pity that the first part was very detailed and the second part was too concise.
This is the story about Burma from the British colonisation till the years after WWII and some hints to modern times. But it is also the story about the exile of the last Burmese king and his family and their life in India; it is the story of the British colonisation of Burma but with some hints also to its colonisation in India and Malaysia; it is the story of Rajkumar, an Indian orphan that lives and works in Burma, of his family and several good friends of him and his wife. Reading this book the reader knows also more about the Indian National Army and why some Indian soldiers decided to mutiny from the British Army. The story is set in Burma, India and also Malaysia.
There is really a lot in this book though the main focus is on Burma, its history and Rajkumar's family.
I liked this book because I didn't know a lot about the colonisation of Burma, and it was also a real pageturner. I was never bored by the story.
Despite this I can't rate it with 5* because the story about the Burmese king and his family's exile, and therefore also the story about Rajkumar's and Dolly's youth, was very long and detailed, while the last part of the book (about the second and third generation of Rajkumar's family) was shorter and there were some time leaps. I would have liked this second part, both about the history of Burma and the family members, to be more detailed even if I should have read several additional pages. I would have liked also to know more about the Burmese princesses and what happened to them once married.
It is a very engrossing and interesting book and I like Ghosh's writing style. It is a pity that the first part was very detailed and the second part was too concise.
October 22, 2023
This novel has everything a reader could ask for: the sweep of history and a wealth of gorgeous detail.
It even explains the origins of the White Elephant — an actual rare white elephant gifted to the exiled King of Burma.
This author is consistently most interesting.
It even explains the origins of the White Elephant — an actual rare white elephant gifted to the exiled King of Burma.
This author is consistently most interesting.
March 9, 2013
This pageant of history reminds me of James Michener's sagas. It traces over 100 years spanning colonialism, the end of the Burmese monarchy, two wars and the ultimate implantation of a police state in Burma through the fictional stories of people bound together by business, marriage and friendship.
There are several protagonists, each involved in and affected by the events of their respective times. Through them, Ghosh draws a picture that helps readers like me, who have little knowledge of this area's history, understand its dynamics.
The characters have various relationships with the exiled Burmese royal family, they build teak and rubber industries, become involved in independence movements, they are early users of new technology (the motor car, the camera) and debate the issues for their countries following World War II. Fittingly, the novel ties up the family stories as it ends in Rangoon with a description of Aung San Suu Kyi's speeches and her philosophy.
The author has obviously pruned issues that span these 3 countries (Burma, India and Malaysia) and several eras to something manageable. For this I am glad, since this was about the limit I could absorb.
I was surprised by the high level of literacy and nutrition accorded to the age of the monarchy. It stands in total contrast to Burma today, best described in Finding George Orwell in Burma.
I highly recommend this book to those anyone who enjoys big epics. I hope, one day, to see this on film.
There are several protagonists, each involved in and affected by the events of their respective times. Through them, Ghosh draws a picture that helps readers like me, who have little knowledge of this area's history, understand its dynamics.
The characters have various relationships with the exiled Burmese royal family, they build teak and rubber industries, become involved in independence movements, they are early users of new technology (the motor car, the camera) and debate the issues for their countries following World War II. Fittingly, the novel ties up the family stories as it ends in Rangoon with a description of Aung San Suu Kyi's speeches and her philosophy.
The author has obviously pruned issues that span these 3 countries (Burma, India and Malaysia) and several eras to something manageable. For this I am glad, since this was about the limit I could absorb.
I was surprised by the high level of literacy and nutrition accorded to the age of the monarchy. It stands in total contrast to Burma today, best described in Finding George Orwell in Burma.
I highly recommend this book to those anyone who enjoys big epics. I hope, one day, to see this on film.
April 9, 2019
The story spans for over sixty years. Through the story of Rajkumar, his children and grandchild, the history of India and Burma comes alive involving the British invasion and natives fight for independence.
The story begins in 1885 with British invasion of Burma over teak wood.
Eleven year old Rajkumar works on a boat which takes him from India to the city of Mandalay in Burma. He is sent to a lady named Ma Cho, who is half-Indian and owns a food stall. Her stall is close to the walls of the fort belonging to Burma’s kings, currently to King Thebaw and Queen Supayalat.
At the center of the fort, “there is a vast hall that is like a great shaft of light, with shining crystal walls and mirrored ceilings. People call it the Glass Palace.” No matter what Ma Cho says Rajkumar knows he will find a way in to see it.
Soon there are rumors of war as English want all the teak wood in Burma and the king won’t let them have it.
On November 14, 1885 the imperial fleet crosses the border. The British artillery is so powerful like never before. “The Burmese could not match this firepower. (…) The war lasted just fourteen days.”
As the fort is being plundered, this gives Rajkumar an opportunity to enter it. There he sees one of the queen’s maids, “perhaps nine or ten years old.” Her name is Dolly and he cannot forget her.
The Royal Family is transported from Mandalay, Burma to Madras, India.
Rajkumar doesn’t want to go back to working on a boat. But what else can he do? Since teak wood was so precious to Brits to start a war over this, now he needs to figure out what was so precious about it.
With some help and enough luck, he makes enough money to make him feel comfortable and confident to search for Dolly.
This story is over 500 pages long and the last 20% could be more condensed. Nevertheless, the blend of history, intriguing characters and interesting plot brings one of the most memorable stories.
Many threads of history are woven into this story including: British invasion effecting the lives of the Royals and their people; epidemics that ravaged during that time period; the Ghadar Party – many Indian immigrants living in America and Canada, once serving in the British Indian army, turned from loyalists into revolutionaries. “It was the Irish who were their mentors and allies, schooling them in their methods of organization…” One of the groups coming out of this was the Indian Independence League; also a clash between Indian and Burmese workers.
@FB/BestHistoricalFiction
The story begins in 1885 with British invasion of Burma over teak wood.
Eleven year old Rajkumar works on a boat which takes him from India to the city of Mandalay in Burma. He is sent to a lady named Ma Cho, who is half-Indian and owns a food stall. Her stall is close to the walls of the fort belonging to Burma’s kings, currently to King Thebaw and Queen Supayalat.
At the center of the fort, “there is a vast hall that is like a great shaft of light, with shining crystal walls and mirrored ceilings. People call it the Glass Palace.” No matter what Ma Cho says Rajkumar knows he will find a way in to see it.
Soon there are rumors of war as English want all the teak wood in Burma and the king won’t let them have it.
On November 14, 1885 the imperial fleet crosses the border. The British artillery is so powerful like never before. “The Burmese could not match this firepower. (…) The war lasted just fourteen days.”
As the fort is being plundered, this gives Rajkumar an opportunity to enter it. There he sees one of the queen’s maids, “perhaps nine or ten years old.” Her name is Dolly and he cannot forget her.
The Royal Family is transported from Mandalay, Burma to Madras, India.
Rajkumar doesn’t want to go back to working on a boat. But what else can he do? Since teak wood was so precious to Brits to start a war over this, now he needs to figure out what was so precious about it.
With some help and enough luck, he makes enough money to make him feel comfortable and confident to search for Dolly.
This story is over 500 pages long and the last 20% could be more condensed. Nevertheless, the blend of history, intriguing characters and interesting plot brings one of the most memorable stories.
Many threads of history are woven into this story including: British invasion effecting the lives of the Royals and their people; epidemics that ravaged during that time period; the Ghadar Party – many Indian immigrants living in America and Canada, once serving in the British Indian army, turned from loyalists into revolutionaries. “It was the Irish who were their mentors and allies, schooling them in their methods of organization…” One of the groups coming out of this was the Indian Independence League; also a clash between Indian and Burmese workers.
@FB/BestHistoricalFiction
February 22, 2022
Why the hell wasn’t this a Booker Prize winner? I fell into this Epic epic completely. Food? Drink? Nah, I’ve got to keep reading; something more important is going on in Mandalay! In Ratnagiri! In Sungei Pattani!
The Glass Palace is the finest historical novel I’ve read since Birds without Wings in 2005. The characters are complete, their evolution is authentic and sometimes heartbreaking; the history spans from the end of the 19th C to the end of the 20th: Burma, India, Malaya.
A few moments:
An old Indian soldier who had served under the British:
“You don’t understand. We never thought we were being used to conquer people. Not at all: we thought the opposite. We were told we were freeing those people. That is what they said- that we were going to set those people free from their bad kings, or their evil customs or some such thing. We believed it because they believed it too. It took us a long time to understand that in their eyes freedom exists wherever they rule.”
Manju, a new mother and even newer widow, the latter courtesy of the Japanese bombing of Rangoon in 1942, looking up..
“The planes were far up in the sky, barely visible, like the shadows of moths. She longed for them to come closer: close enough to see a face. She longed to know what kind of being this was that felt free to unleash this destruction: What was it for? What sort of creature could think of waging war upon herself, her husband, her child - a family such as hers - for what reason? Who were these people who took it upon themselves to remake the history of the world?
If only she could find some meaning in this, she knew, she would be able to restore order in her mind; she would be able to reason in accustomed ways; she would know when and why it was time to feed the baby...to think of the past and the future and one’s place in the world.”
And those Brits - never ceasing to divide and conquer:
The British Army did not recruit Tamils “...they were counted as one of the many Indian groups that were racially unfit for soldiering.”
The Sri Lankan Sinhalese roll their eyes.
The Glass Palace is the finest historical novel I’ve read since Birds without Wings in 2005. The characters are complete, their evolution is authentic and sometimes heartbreaking; the history spans from the end of the 19th C to the end of the 20th: Burma, India, Malaya.
A few moments:
An old Indian soldier who had served under the British:
“You don’t understand. We never thought we were being used to conquer people. Not at all: we thought the opposite. We were told we were freeing those people. That is what they said- that we were going to set those people free from their bad kings, or their evil customs or some such thing. We believed it because they believed it too. It took us a long time to understand that in their eyes freedom exists wherever they rule.”
Manju, a new mother and even newer widow, the latter courtesy of the Japanese bombing of Rangoon in 1942, looking up..
“The planes were far up in the sky, barely visible, like the shadows of moths. She longed for them to come closer: close enough to see a face. She longed to know what kind of being this was that felt free to unleash this destruction: What was it for? What sort of creature could think of waging war upon herself, her husband, her child - a family such as hers - for what reason? Who were these people who took it upon themselves to remake the history of the world?
If only she could find some meaning in this, she knew, she would be able to restore order in her mind; she would be able to reason in accustomed ways; she would know when and why it was time to feed the baby...to think of the past and the future and one’s place in the world.”
And those Brits - never ceasing to divide and conquer:
The British Army did not recruit Tamils “...they were counted as one of the many Indian groups that were racially unfit for soldiering.”
The Sri Lankan Sinhalese roll their eyes.
February 27, 2011
Page 107:
May I remind Your Highness that while Alexander the GReat spent no more than a few months in the steppes of Central Asia, the satrapies he founded persisted for centuries afterward) Britain's Empire is, by contrast, already more than a century old, and you may be certain, Your Highness, that its influence will persist for centuries more to come.
Page 292
There were quotations from Mahatma Gandhi and a passage that said: "Why should India, in the name of freedom, come to the defence of this Satanic Empire which is itself the greatest menace to liberty that the world has ever known?"
Page 518
"Did we ever have a hope?"..."We rebelled against an Empire that has shaped everything in our lives; coloured everything in the world as we know it. It is a huge, indelible stain which has tainted all of us. We cannot destroy it without destroying ourselves...."
What a magnificent book, the story of three generations that starts in Mandalay....
May I remind Your Highness that while Alexander the GReat spent no more than a few months in the steppes of Central Asia, the satrapies he founded persisted for centuries afterward) Britain's Empire is, by contrast, already more than a century old, and you may be certain, Your Highness, that its influence will persist for centuries more to come.
Page 292
There were quotations from Mahatma Gandhi and a passage that said: "Why should India, in the name of freedom, come to the defence of this Satanic Empire which is itself the greatest menace to liberty that the world has ever known?"
Page 518
"Did we ever have a hope?"..."We rebelled against an Empire that has shaped everything in our lives; coloured everything in the world as we know it. It is a huge, indelible stain which has tainted all of us. We cannot destroy it without destroying ourselves...."
What a magnificent book, the story of three generations that starts in Mandalay....
February 16, 2016
This has become one of my top favorite works of historical fiction. Love the writing and everything else about the telling of the broad history of Burma (today's Myanmar ) which he masterfully connects to colonialism. I will reread at some point.
August 27, 2024
A sweeping epic set in multiple locales in southeast Asia, covering over 125 years in the lives of a family which arose from humble beginnings to great wealth and affluence. Mr. Ghosh writes brilliantly in muscular prose of the horrors of colonialism, militarism and fascism and their effect on the family as it tries to cope with cataclysmic world events around them. He writes of Burma before the British occupation, "This is a golden land - no one ever starves here, and all can read and write". He tells the sad story of how the last King and Queen of Burma were treated by the colonizers. We readers learn about elephants and their handlers and how teak and rubber tree plantations operated in those early days. And we learn about the travails of exiles whose lives are uprooted by war and political change. It is a long read but one that this reader wished could have been longer. Cheers!
July 18, 2016
A Confluence of History and Romance
With its 470 close-printed pages and 111-year time-span, Amitav Ghosh's The Glass Palace is a novel of immense scope. Unlike most long novels or multi-generational family epics, this one held me interested throughout, largely because whenever Ghosh allowed the tension to drop as a novelist, he picked it up as an historian. Indeed, for much of the book, I felt I was reading a non-fiction history of Burma, India, and Malaya, told through the lives of characters who are largely fictional. Beginning and ending in Burma, from the expulsion of King Thebaw by the British in 1885 to a speech by the imprisoned democratic leader Aung San Suu Kyi outside her house in 1996, the novel covers two world wars, several rebellions, and numerous flavors of oppression, brief independence, and interracial strife. It also chronicles both the usual changes in the outside world, such as the impact of motor-cars, airplanes, and photography, and factors specific to that particular region, such as the successive importance of three money-making trees: teak, rubber, and the oil palm. Reading it, I learned a great deal.
There may be history in the making, but the novel opens in the spirit of high romance. Rajkumar, a Bengali boy in his early teens, has been temporarily stranded in Mandalay when the British attack. Taking advantage of the confusion to enter the palace he sees a Shan girl named Dolly, who is one of the ladies in waiting to the young Princesses. Later, his heart smitten, he finds the opportunity to do her a favor. But Dolly accompanies the Royal Family into exile in India, and by the time they meet again, Rajkumar has become rich from the teak business and the Princesses have grown up. Other characters become important, among them Saya John, Rajkumar's Chinese-born mentor in Burma, and Uma, the wife of the Collector in the small town where the deposed King has been exiled. Other love affairs ensue, and soon we have a second generation and even a third. Potential readers might be well-advised to compile a family tree as they go; it gets complicated.
The historian tells; the novelist shows. One of the things I found a little disconcerting about the book is that I could never predict which the author would do when. He would pass from an intimate scene described in great detail, only to leap ahead by a decade or more. Or he would suddenly put in a page or two of background information like an extended footnote. But it was always interesting, and I soon grew used to it.
I have found before in similar sagas that the members of the second generation are often not as interesting as the first—plus there are more of them. That is much less true here, partly because most of the younger characters are interesting in their own right, partly because the action moves into truly stirring times, and partly because it is here that Ghosh most clearly comes to grips with the major themes of his book. One example must suffice. Uma's nephew Arjun becomes one of the first Indians to pass through military academy and become an officer in the Indian Army. The British Indian Army, that is, which had hitherto worked with a strict division between white officers and Indian other ranks. Arjun is a conscientious and loyal soldier, but inevitably the question arises: to whom is his loyalty due? To the British who have subjugated his country, or to his own people, fractured though they are by ethnicity, caste, and religion?
All this comes to a head when war breaks out and Arjun's regiment is sent to Malaya to defend against possible attack by the Japanese. We are now in the territory handled so brilliantly by J. G. Farrell in The Singapore Grip. Except that this is not told from a European point of view but an Indian one, colonial troops defending a country where they are not even allowed to use the swimming pools. The complex shifting of loyalties under battlefield conditions was new to me and rather confusing, yet the political and moral issues were clear as day. But Ghosh's treatment is far from a ranting polemic. Even though my father was born in India and I am thus the grandson of the oppressors, I found this whole book to be one of the fairest anti-colonial novels I have ever read. Which says a lot.
With its 470 close-printed pages and 111-year time-span, Amitav Ghosh's The Glass Palace is a novel of immense scope. Unlike most long novels or multi-generational family epics, this one held me interested throughout, largely because whenever Ghosh allowed the tension to drop as a novelist, he picked it up as an historian. Indeed, for much of the book, I felt I was reading a non-fiction history of Burma, India, and Malaya, told through the lives of characters who are largely fictional. Beginning and ending in Burma, from the expulsion of King Thebaw by the British in 1885 to a speech by the imprisoned democratic leader Aung San Suu Kyi outside her house in 1996, the novel covers two world wars, several rebellions, and numerous flavors of oppression, brief independence, and interracial strife. It also chronicles both the usual changes in the outside world, such as the impact of motor-cars, airplanes, and photography, and factors specific to that particular region, such as the successive importance of three money-making trees: teak, rubber, and the oil palm. Reading it, I learned a great deal.
There may be history in the making, but the novel opens in the spirit of high romance. Rajkumar, a Bengali boy in his early teens, has been temporarily stranded in Mandalay when the British attack. Taking advantage of the confusion to enter the palace he sees a Shan girl named Dolly, who is one of the ladies in waiting to the young Princesses. Later, his heart smitten, he finds the opportunity to do her a favor. But Dolly accompanies the Royal Family into exile in India, and by the time they meet again, Rajkumar has become rich from the teak business and the Princesses have grown up. Other characters become important, among them Saya John, Rajkumar's Chinese-born mentor in Burma, and Uma, the wife of the Collector in the small town where the deposed King has been exiled. Other love affairs ensue, and soon we have a second generation and even a third. Potential readers might be well-advised to compile a family tree as they go; it gets complicated.
The historian tells; the novelist shows. One of the things I found a little disconcerting about the book is that I could never predict which the author would do when. He would pass from an intimate scene described in great detail, only to leap ahead by a decade or more. Or he would suddenly put in a page or two of background information like an extended footnote. But it was always interesting, and I soon grew used to it.
I have found before in similar sagas that the members of the second generation are often not as interesting as the first—plus there are more of them. That is much less true here, partly because most of the younger characters are interesting in their own right, partly because the action moves into truly stirring times, and partly because it is here that Ghosh most clearly comes to grips with the major themes of his book. One example must suffice. Uma's nephew Arjun becomes one of the first Indians to pass through military academy and become an officer in the Indian Army. The British Indian Army, that is, which had hitherto worked with a strict division between white officers and Indian other ranks. Arjun is a conscientious and loyal soldier, but inevitably the question arises: to whom is his loyalty due? To the British who have subjugated his country, or to his own people, fractured though they are by ethnicity, caste, and religion?
All this comes to a head when war breaks out and Arjun's regiment is sent to Malaya to defend against possible attack by the Japanese. We are now in the territory handled so brilliantly by J. G. Farrell in The Singapore Grip. Except that this is not told from a European point of view but an Indian one, colonial troops defending a country where they are not even allowed to use the swimming pools. The complex shifting of loyalties under battlefield conditions was new to me and rather confusing, yet the political and moral issues were clear as day. But Ghosh's treatment is far from a ranting polemic. Even though my father was born in India and I am thus the grandson of the oppressors, I found this whole book to be one of the fairest anti-colonial novels I have ever read. Which says a lot.
August 9, 2016
“But you could come to Singapore with us first; you could probably get a ship there. It might even be easier.’
Dinu paused to think. ‘You may be right. Yes . . . I’ll come.’
She reached for his hands. ‘I don’t think I could bear to go without you. Especially now.’
‘Why now?’
She dug into his chest with her forehead. ‘Because I think I’m in love with you, Dinu—or something like that at any rate. I didn’t know it before, but I know it now.’
He pulled her closer. He did not care what had happened between her and Arjun; nothing mattered but this—that she loved him and he loved her. Nothing else was of any account, not the planes, not the bombs, nothing but this. This was what happiness was—he’d never known it before; this melting away, this exaltation, your guts spilling into your head, filling your eyes—your mind transformed into your body, your body instinct with the joy in your mind; this sensation of reality having met its end.”
At least when these kind of lines come up in cheesy films starring Humphrey Bogart, they are pegged onto a tight story that's going to take us on a ride for 90 minutes or so. This 500-page clunker of a book is not so much a novel as a morass of notes, detailing all of the anecdotes the author encountered in his research on this little corner of southeast Asia, and gussied up lightly with romances that are oddly both turgid and blandly calm at at the same time. I'd never have finished if I hadn't been on an eight-hour train ride with little else to do. As other readers comment, there is major historical action that propels us forward in the beginning and the end of the book. In some sense, it's a book about modernity, which really doesn't seem to catch on as well in southeast Asia.
All in all, I expected to be more interested than I was.
November 13, 2014
Ghosh's Glass Palace is an achievement - no doubt! This is a Historical fiction pivoted around milestones with a few real characters spanning countries and 3 generations.
The first part of the King of Burma's exile and the subsequent life in India could easily be mistaken for work of fiction. Except they were real and the author has taken pains to weave them as the backdrop for the first generation of the Rajkumar family tree.
The next generation story unfolds like a mega serial up till the war with narration restricted to developments. At least, till the 2nd world war. The beauty of prose comes out in those parts that explore the dichotomy of the Indian soldier in the Empire's army. Definitely the strongest points of the book are these pages of the country in transition.
The book also underplays the traditional 'key moments' in a book. Characters marry, kill or die over one sentence on a page. Extremely well researched and no wonder it took 6 years of research for this book. Masterpiece for the author.
Complains - Too many characters of equal importance, some subplots that stand out as loose threads and mega serial type handling of the 2nd generation.
The first part of the King of Burma's exile and the subsequent life in India could easily be mistaken for work of fiction. Except they were real and the author has taken pains to weave them as the backdrop for the first generation of the Rajkumar family tree.
The next generation story unfolds like a mega serial up till the war with narration restricted to developments. At least, till the 2nd world war. The beauty of prose comes out in those parts that explore the dichotomy of the Indian soldier in the Empire's army. Definitely the strongest points of the book are these pages of the country in transition.
The book also underplays the traditional 'key moments' in a book. Characters marry, kill or die over one sentence on a page. Extremely well researched and no wonder it took 6 years of research for this book. Masterpiece for the author.
Complains - Too many characters of equal importance, some subplots that stand out as loose threads and mega serial type handling of the 2nd generation.
April 5, 2011
I love Amitav Ghosh, he is my favourite novelist currently. The Glass Place is one of my favourite books of his. It is a sweeping epic that starts from the eviction of the Royal family in Burma where a urchin witnesses the royalty being indignantly thrown out and resolutely falls in love with one of the helpers who comes to India with the king and the Queen and the 3 princessses.The books explores their life there as normal people there and the hardships they go through . It shifts to the Plantations in Burma, the rubber plantations in malaysia, activities of the Ghadar party in America. What I love about the book is how Ghosh weaves in so many characters and so many settings (plantations, independence struggle right upto a Burma in exile).
It is one of the best books to read for people who like to learn about cultures, economies, politics, society and relationships all inextricably woven.
It is one of the best books to read for people who like to learn about cultures, economies, politics, society and relationships all inextricably woven.
August 8, 2025
Amitav Ghosh’s The Glass Palace is a sweeping, multi-generational novel that blends the intimacy of family histories with the vast sweep of colonial and postcolonial history.
When I read it in 2019, I found myself constantly linking its narrative rhythms and thematic concerns with other major works of world literature—novels that similarly tackle empire, displacement, and the collisions between personal destiny and historical upheaval.
The novel opens in 1885 with the British invasion of Burma, a moment of violent disruption that Ghosh renders with cinematic vividness. We meet Rajkumar, an Indian orphan who finds himself in Mandalay just as King Thibaw and Queen Supayalat are forced into exile.
This moment—one man’s life intersecting with the dislocation of an entire kingdom—becomes the seed for a narrative that will span over a century, crossing Burma, India, and Malaya. Ghosh’s central preoccupation is clear: the intertwined fates of individuals and nations in the long shadow of imperialism.
This concern immediately brings to mind E.M. Forster’s A Passage to India, another novel where the personal is inextricably linked to the machinery of colonial rule. But while Forster’s approach is more compressed and symbolic—using one town, one trial, one landscape to stand in for the complexities of empire—Ghosh adopts the panoramic method.
His canvas is closer to that of Tolstoy in War and Peace or García Márquez in One Hundred Years of Solitude, where the family saga becomes a lens through which the reader witnesses sweeping historical transitions.
One of Ghosh’s most notable achievements in The Glass Palace is how he treats colonialism not simply as a political or economic system but as a lived reality embedded in relationships, migrations, and inheritances. This places him in a lineage with writers like Chinua Achebe (Things Fall Apart) and Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o (Petals of Blood), who situate the colonial encounter within the everyday lives of their characters.
Like Achebe, Ghosh refuses to flatten the colonial experience into a simple binary of oppressor and oppressed—he shows us Indian soldiers fighting for the British in Burma, Indian merchants building fortunes under empire, and Burmese royalty adjusting to exile in India.
If Achebe’s mode is tragic compression, Ghosh’s is sprawling interconnection. In that sense, The Glass Palace bears comparison to Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children. Both novels are deeply invested in the interplay between private lives and epochal events, and both use a hybrid narrative voice that blends intimacy with historical exposition.
Yet where Rushdie veers into the magical and allegorical, Ghosh stays grounded in a realism that is meticulously researched. His background as an anthropologist is evident—he recreates the textures of Mandalay, Rangoon, Malayan rubber plantations, and wartime India with archival precision.
The novel’s title is itself a metaphor for the fragility of empires and fortunes. The literal Glass Palace in Mandalay is the seat of Burmese royalty, a place of beauty and power that shatters with the arrival of British troops. This image of splintering resonates with Ghosh’s treatment of the 20th century as a long process of both destruction and adaptation.
In this sense, The Glass Palace invites comparison with Orhan Pamuk’s The Museum of Innocence—not because they share a setting or style, but because both explore how personal objects and spaces become charged with the weight of history.
Ghosh’s narrative architecture also recalls classic Southeast Asian and South Asian historical fiction, such as Pramoedya Ananta Toer’s Buru Quartet or Rohinton Mistry’s A Fine Balance. Like Pramoedya, Ghosh situates his characters within a network of trade, migration, and cultural exchange that predates and outlives colonialism. And like Mistry, he has an acute awareness of how large-scale political events reshape the texture of ordinary lives. Both authors share Ghosh’s gift for layering tragedy with moments of resilience and even tenderness.
One of the novel’s most compelling threads is its portrayal of displacement. The exiled Burmese royal family in Ratnagiri, the Indian labourers in Malayan plantations, and the soldiers uprooted by war—all are caught in currents they did not choose.
This theme places The Glass Palace alongside works like Isabel Allende’s The House of the Spirits, which similarly charts the fates of families under the pressure of political upheaval. Allende and Ghosh both show that exile is not only geographic but also generational: the children inherit the fractures of their parents’ histories.
Ghosh’s style is distinct from many of these comparators in its deliberate pacing and descriptive density. At times, his long historical digressions recall the narrative generosity of Victor Hugo in Les Misérables—the willingness to pause the story in order to explain the world around it. This can be polarising; readers looking for tightly plotted fiction might find the historical detail overwhelming, while those attuned to the deep interweaving of fact and fiction will find it immersive.
Where The Glass Palace stands apart from similar world-historical novels is in its transnational scope across Asia. While Forster’s India or Achebe’s Nigeria are tightly focused on one colonial context, Ghosh maps an interconnected imperial world stretching from Burma to Malaya to India, showing how labour, capital, and armies flowed along imperial arteries.
In this, he anticipates the global-historical fiction of later writers like Yaa Gyasi (Homegoing) or Min Jin Lee (Pachinko), who follow migrant families through multiple countries and decades.
Another point of comparison is Ghosh’s own later Ibis Trilogy (Sea of Poppies, River of Smoke, Flood of Fire). Where The Glass Palace takes a relatively straightforward realist approach, the Ibis novels push further into polyphonic storytelling and linguistic experimentation.
Yet the DNA is the same: a fascination with how human lives are shaped by trade, empire, and migration. If the Ibis books are sprawling maritime epics, The Glass Palace is a continental epic—a map drawn in overlapping family lines.
Thematically, the novel’s portrayal of loyalty, ambition, and moral compromise under empire recalls Joseph Conrad’s Nostromo—though Ghosh resists Conrad’s more fatalistic vision.
Conrad often presents colonial subjects as doomed to corruption by imperial entanglement; Ghosh allows for a wider spectrum of adaptation, resilience, and ethical choice. His characters are flawed but not predetermined by history.
One of the most poignant aspects of the novel, and one that echoes across many of these literary cousins, is the tension between remembering and forgetting. The Glass Palace in Mandalay, once glorious, fades from the characters’ lived reality as they adapt to new circumstances.
Similarly, in One Hundred Years of Solitude, the Buendía family repeatedly loses the thread of its own history. In both cases, the fragility of memory is itself a form of historical violence—eras and identities erased not only by conquest but also by the human need to survive in the present.
In the end, The Glass Palace belongs to the tradition of historical epics that aim to restore complexity to histories flattened by official narratives. Like Achebe, Pramoedya, Allende, and Rushdie, Ghosh reclaims the perspective of the colonised, the migrant, and the displaced, without reducing them to victims. His realism is not about the inevitability of suffering, but about the persistence of agency within constraint.
Reading it in 2019, in a world already grappling with resurgent nationalism and the legacies of empire, the novel felt both timely and timeless. Its comparative kin in world literature—Forster’s moral allegories, Achebe’s cultural reckonings, Rushdie’s mythic modernities, and Allende’s family chronicles—each illuminate part of the same vast terrain.
Yet Ghosh’s The Glass Palace, with its Asian transnational scope and its meticulous weaving of personal and political histories, offers a perspective that is uniquely its own: the story of empire told not from the imperial center, nor from a single postcolonial nation, but from the shifting borderlands where cultures meet, clash, and entwine.
It’s a book that sits comfortably among the great historical novels of the 20th and 21st centuries, yet also expands the map of that tradition—reminding us that the glass palaces of history are always more fragile, and more connected, than they first appear.
When I read it in 2019, I found myself constantly linking its narrative rhythms and thematic concerns with other major works of world literature—novels that similarly tackle empire, displacement, and the collisions between personal destiny and historical upheaval.
The novel opens in 1885 with the British invasion of Burma, a moment of violent disruption that Ghosh renders with cinematic vividness. We meet Rajkumar, an Indian orphan who finds himself in Mandalay just as King Thibaw and Queen Supayalat are forced into exile.
This moment—one man’s life intersecting with the dislocation of an entire kingdom—becomes the seed for a narrative that will span over a century, crossing Burma, India, and Malaya. Ghosh’s central preoccupation is clear: the intertwined fates of individuals and nations in the long shadow of imperialism.
This concern immediately brings to mind E.M. Forster’s A Passage to India, another novel where the personal is inextricably linked to the machinery of colonial rule. But while Forster’s approach is more compressed and symbolic—using one town, one trial, one landscape to stand in for the complexities of empire—Ghosh adopts the panoramic method.
His canvas is closer to that of Tolstoy in War and Peace or García Márquez in One Hundred Years of Solitude, where the family saga becomes a lens through which the reader witnesses sweeping historical transitions.
One of Ghosh’s most notable achievements in The Glass Palace is how he treats colonialism not simply as a political or economic system but as a lived reality embedded in relationships, migrations, and inheritances. This places him in a lineage with writers like Chinua Achebe (Things Fall Apart) and Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o (Petals of Blood), who situate the colonial encounter within the everyday lives of their characters.
Like Achebe, Ghosh refuses to flatten the colonial experience into a simple binary of oppressor and oppressed—he shows us Indian soldiers fighting for the British in Burma, Indian merchants building fortunes under empire, and Burmese royalty adjusting to exile in India.
If Achebe’s mode is tragic compression, Ghosh’s is sprawling interconnection. In that sense, The Glass Palace bears comparison to Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children. Both novels are deeply invested in the interplay between private lives and epochal events, and both use a hybrid narrative voice that blends intimacy with historical exposition.
Yet where Rushdie veers into the magical and allegorical, Ghosh stays grounded in a realism that is meticulously researched. His background as an anthropologist is evident—he recreates the textures of Mandalay, Rangoon, Malayan rubber plantations, and wartime India with archival precision.
The novel’s title is itself a metaphor for the fragility of empires and fortunes. The literal Glass Palace in Mandalay is the seat of Burmese royalty, a place of beauty and power that shatters with the arrival of British troops. This image of splintering resonates with Ghosh’s treatment of the 20th century as a long process of both destruction and adaptation.
In this sense, The Glass Palace invites comparison with Orhan Pamuk’s The Museum of Innocence—not because they share a setting or style, but because both explore how personal objects and spaces become charged with the weight of history.
Ghosh’s narrative architecture also recalls classic Southeast Asian and South Asian historical fiction, such as Pramoedya Ananta Toer’s Buru Quartet or Rohinton Mistry’s A Fine Balance. Like Pramoedya, Ghosh situates his characters within a network of trade, migration, and cultural exchange that predates and outlives colonialism. And like Mistry, he has an acute awareness of how large-scale political events reshape the texture of ordinary lives. Both authors share Ghosh’s gift for layering tragedy with moments of resilience and even tenderness.
One of the novel’s most compelling threads is its portrayal of displacement. The exiled Burmese royal family in Ratnagiri, the Indian labourers in Malayan plantations, and the soldiers uprooted by war—all are caught in currents they did not choose.
This theme places The Glass Palace alongside works like Isabel Allende’s The House of the Spirits, which similarly charts the fates of families under the pressure of political upheaval. Allende and Ghosh both show that exile is not only geographic but also generational: the children inherit the fractures of their parents’ histories.
Ghosh’s style is distinct from many of these comparators in its deliberate pacing and descriptive density. At times, his long historical digressions recall the narrative generosity of Victor Hugo in Les Misérables—the willingness to pause the story in order to explain the world around it. This can be polarising; readers looking for tightly plotted fiction might find the historical detail overwhelming, while those attuned to the deep interweaving of fact and fiction will find it immersive.
Where The Glass Palace stands apart from similar world-historical novels is in its transnational scope across Asia. While Forster’s India or Achebe’s Nigeria are tightly focused on one colonial context, Ghosh maps an interconnected imperial world stretching from Burma to Malaya to India, showing how labour, capital, and armies flowed along imperial arteries.
In this, he anticipates the global-historical fiction of later writers like Yaa Gyasi (Homegoing) or Min Jin Lee (Pachinko), who follow migrant families through multiple countries and decades.
Another point of comparison is Ghosh’s own later Ibis Trilogy (Sea of Poppies, River of Smoke, Flood of Fire). Where The Glass Palace takes a relatively straightforward realist approach, the Ibis novels push further into polyphonic storytelling and linguistic experimentation.
Yet the DNA is the same: a fascination with how human lives are shaped by trade, empire, and migration. If the Ibis books are sprawling maritime epics, The Glass Palace is a continental epic—a map drawn in overlapping family lines.
Thematically, the novel’s portrayal of loyalty, ambition, and moral compromise under empire recalls Joseph Conrad’s Nostromo—though Ghosh resists Conrad’s more fatalistic vision.
Conrad often presents colonial subjects as doomed to corruption by imperial entanglement; Ghosh allows for a wider spectrum of adaptation, resilience, and ethical choice. His characters are flawed but not predetermined by history.
One of the most poignant aspects of the novel, and one that echoes across many of these literary cousins, is the tension between remembering and forgetting. The Glass Palace in Mandalay, once glorious, fades from the characters’ lived reality as they adapt to new circumstances.
Similarly, in One Hundred Years of Solitude, the Buendía family repeatedly loses the thread of its own history. In both cases, the fragility of memory is itself a form of historical violence—eras and identities erased not only by conquest but also by the human need to survive in the present.
In the end, The Glass Palace belongs to the tradition of historical epics that aim to restore complexity to histories flattened by official narratives. Like Achebe, Pramoedya, Allende, and Rushdie, Ghosh reclaims the perspective of the colonised, the migrant, and the displaced, without reducing them to victims. His realism is not about the inevitability of suffering, but about the persistence of agency within constraint.
Reading it in 2019, in a world already grappling with resurgent nationalism and the legacies of empire, the novel felt both timely and timeless. Its comparative kin in world literature—Forster’s moral allegories, Achebe’s cultural reckonings, Rushdie’s mythic modernities, and Allende’s family chronicles—each illuminate part of the same vast terrain.
Yet Ghosh’s The Glass Palace, with its Asian transnational scope and its meticulous weaving of personal and political histories, offers a perspective that is uniquely its own: the story of empire told not from the imperial center, nor from a single postcolonial nation, but from the shifting borderlands where cultures meet, clash, and entwine.
It’s a book that sits comfortably among the great historical novels of the 20th and 21st centuries, yet also expands the map of that tradition—reminding us that the glass palaces of history are always more fragile, and more connected, than they first appear.
September 6, 2017
The brilliant Indian author Amitav Ghosh is one of India's greatest gifts to readers the world over. His deeply affecting historical novels relate the history of South Asia in fascinating detail, reflecting years of intensive research, both on-site and archival. Anchored securely in time and place, Ghosh's characters virtually leap off the page. They're hard to forget.
The Glass Palace is a case in point. The novel sprawls across more than a century of Burma's history, from the British invasion of northern Burma in 1885 until 1999. The story opens in the Mandalay neighborhood surrounding the residence and seat of government of Burma's last king, Thebaw Min. In the palatial surroundings of his palace, Thebaw awaits the arrival of British troops who have moved up from the south to incorporate the kingdom as a whole in their empire. With little ceremony, he, his ruthless queen, and their daughters are hustled down the Irawaddy to Rangoon. Then they are bundled onto a ship and sent to a small town on India's west coast. There, Thebaw lived out his days in exile.
The central characters are Rajkumar Raha and Dolly, a handmaid to the Second Princess. She is ten years old as the novel opens. Dolly is "a timid, undemonstrative child with enormous eyes and a dancer's pliable body and supple limbs." Rajkumar, who is just one year older, is a poverty-stricken orphan stranded in Mandalay by the captain of the ship he had crewed. When the two are briefly thrown together in the chaos surrounding the British invasion, Rajkumar instantly falls in love with Dolly. He remains smitten for many years until they meet again near the residence of the exiled king in India.
Though the focus in The Glass Palace is the history of Burma, the conflict at the core of the tale is the three-way tension between the Burmese, the British, and the Indian businessmen such as Rajkumar became as an adult. It's essential to the story to note that two-thirds of the troops in the British invasion force were Indian as well, a great many of them Sikhs from the Punjab. The story leaps from 1885 to 1905 to 1914 to 1941 to the 1960s, 70s, 80s, and 90s, through four generations of the descendants of Rajkumar, Dolly, and their close friends. The key chapters devoted to the Second World War in Burma and Malaya are especially affecting. If, like me, you had no prior knowledge of Burma's history, you're sure to get a vivid picture of the events that most deeply shaped its evolution before the 21st century.
In addition to the Burmese King and Queen, there are several other historical figures that enter into this story: Mahatma Gandhi; Subhas Chandra Bose, the right-wing extremist who led the Indian National Army against the British in the Second World War; General Aung San, Burma's independence leader, who was assassinated before taking office as president; and Aung San's daughter, Aung San Suu Kyi, who now serves as the country's preeminent elected leader.
The Glass Palace is a case in point. The novel sprawls across more than a century of Burma's history, from the British invasion of northern Burma in 1885 until 1999. The story opens in the Mandalay neighborhood surrounding the residence and seat of government of Burma's last king, Thebaw Min. In the palatial surroundings of his palace, Thebaw awaits the arrival of British troops who have moved up from the south to incorporate the kingdom as a whole in their empire. With little ceremony, he, his ruthless queen, and their daughters are hustled down the Irawaddy to Rangoon. Then they are bundled onto a ship and sent to a small town on India's west coast. There, Thebaw lived out his days in exile.
The central characters are Rajkumar Raha and Dolly, a handmaid to the Second Princess. She is ten years old as the novel opens. Dolly is "a timid, undemonstrative child with enormous eyes and a dancer's pliable body and supple limbs." Rajkumar, who is just one year older, is a poverty-stricken orphan stranded in Mandalay by the captain of the ship he had crewed. When the two are briefly thrown together in the chaos surrounding the British invasion, Rajkumar instantly falls in love with Dolly. He remains smitten for many years until they meet again near the residence of the exiled king in India.
Though the focus in The Glass Palace is the history of Burma, the conflict at the core of the tale is the three-way tension between the Burmese, the British, and the Indian businessmen such as Rajkumar became as an adult. It's essential to the story to note that two-thirds of the troops in the British invasion force were Indian as well, a great many of them Sikhs from the Punjab. The story leaps from 1885 to 1905 to 1914 to 1941 to the 1960s, 70s, 80s, and 90s, through four generations of the descendants of Rajkumar, Dolly, and their close friends. The key chapters devoted to the Second World War in Burma and Malaya are especially affecting. If, like me, you had no prior knowledge of Burma's history, you're sure to get a vivid picture of the events that most deeply shaped its evolution before the 21st century.
In addition to the Burmese King and Queen, there are several other historical figures that enter into this story: Mahatma Gandhi; Subhas Chandra Bose, the right-wing extremist who led the Indian National Army against the British in the Second World War; General Aung San, Burma's independence leader, who was assassinated before taking office as president; and Aung San's daughter, Aung San Suu Kyi, who now serves as the country's preeminent elected leader.
December 2, 2023
I am an admirer of Amitav Ghosh's Sea of Poppies and River of Smoke, but The Glass Palace doesn't stand alongside them. It is, instead, a clumsy attempt at a history lesson. Another GR reviewer wrote: “Historical novels should be mostly about characters, with history as a backdrop.” This is precisely the problem with Ghosh's novel. It tries to present history through hollow characters tied together by unrealistic plot devices. It just doesn't work.
Many GR reviewers heaped praise on The Glass Palace, as did reviewers from many magazines and newspapers. I found it awkward, ham-handed and worthy of only Two Stars.
Many GR reviewers heaped praise on The Glass Palace, as did reviewers from many magazines and newspapers. I found it awkward, ham-handed and worthy of only Two Stars.
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