What do you think?
Rate this book
Mão Morta: Um Crime em Calcutá
O escritor de viagens com um bloqueio criativo; o pedido de ajuda que chega por carta; o jovem indiano que acorda no hotel com um cadáver ao lado; a remetente da carta, a enigmatica viúva rica Senhora Unger; Calcutá, na sua atmosfera pungente, saturada de humidade e cheia de labirintos decadentes. E uma mão morta.
O mais recente romance de Paul Theroux apresenta uma pleiade de personagens ricamente desenhadas, num caso de difícil resolução. É um fresco da Índia moderna um thriller, um devaneio erótico e uma reflexão sobre a idade e a perda da energia criativa.
O mais recente romance de Paul Theroux apresenta uma pleiade de personagens ricamente desenhadas, num caso de difícil resolução. É um fresco da Índia moderna um thriller, um devaneio erótico e uma reflexão sobre a idade e a perda da energia criativa.
360 pages, Paperback
Published March 2, 2011
55 people are currently reading
474 people want to read
About the author
Paul Theroux
237 books2,602 followersPaul Edward Theroux is an American travel writer and novelist, whose best known work is The Great Railway Bazaar (1975), a travelogue about a trip he made by train from Great Britain through Western and Eastern Europe, the Middle East, through South Asia, then South-East Asia, up through East Asia, as far east as Japan, and then back across Russia to his point of origin. Although perhaps best known as a travelogue writer, Theroux has also published numerous works of fiction, some of which were made into feature films. He was awarded the 1981 James Tait Black Memorial Prize for his novel The Mosquito Coast.
He is the father of Marcel and Louis Theroux, and the brother of Alexander and Peter. Justin Theroux is his nephew.
He is the father of Marcel and Louis Theroux, and the brother of Alexander and Peter. Justin Theroux is his nephew.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 184 reviews
October 31, 2023
Easily my worst read of the year. I wonder how a brilliant writer like Paul can write a thrash like this. The story line is exceedingly dull and at times it appears the author had no clue about what he was writing. What makes the book a horrible read is the bias and jaundiced eyes with which the story progresses. Read at your own peril!
August 3, 2010
This was my first time reading Thoreaux but I absolutely loved it. The breath taking cover adorned with haunting blue's, fuchsia and gold made me feel like I was closer to India and the story itself was rich and decadent, it unfolded lazily at its own speed, oozing mystery and sultriness like a melting camembert, it captured my interest but it's not a lightning fast read, it's not meant to be. Not every story has to be a nonstop bucket of ice cream, the melting thrill screams to be eaten before it dissolves, this took some time to read, but it was satisfying, elegant and bit naughty at the same time.
The tale is a mix of mystery and old fashioned travels that are long forgotten in this new modern era. Jerry Delfont is an author who has just finished giving lectures in exotic Calcutta, his time seems to stretch endlessly but his boredom is suddenly stalled by a mysterious letter, one that arrives praising his talents and asking for his help in solving a murder mystery, a letter that is the beginning of it all. Mrs. Unger is a beautiful and very opinionated woman who's charities have saved many children from poverty and life of crime, she asks desperately for Jerry's help in clearing her son's friend from murder charges, a body of a nameless child has been found in his hotel room, and when he flees from the scene of crime it creates more questions than answers but Jerry is so blinded by her charms and beautify that he takes on this task, making new friends and enemies on the way and discovering the dark, rotten dirty secrets camouflaged by an exotic face of a foreign country. Mrs. Unger takes him under her wing and makes him desperate for her attention, she bewitches Jerry with her many talents and adds a rich layer of spice to the story, I had a great time solving the mystery which seem to take a back seat to the relationship that seemed to unfold between this perfect proper woman and a man who lusted after her. Things that happen are surprising and not as innocent as one would expect but the incoming discord and feeling of "something is wrong" make for a great read. Jeffry's lust and desperation were more interesting than the mystery itself, and I followed that road greedily, waiting to find out the truth.
I really enjoyed the language and the writing, the backdrop was amazing and the mystery was interesting but it clearly was not the main vein in the body of this work. I loved the character development because it made me feel close to what was going on, I felt connected to the the food and the people, the places and the décor, discovering the good and the ugly in each person was immensely enjoyable and I had a great time reading this book, it makes me want to read more of Paul Theroux and the journeys hidden between his pages, I definitely want to read more of his stories, there is an old fashioned charm to them with a modern edge that makes for an irresistible read.
- Kasia S.
The tale is a mix of mystery and old fashioned travels that are long forgotten in this new modern era. Jerry Delfont is an author who has just finished giving lectures in exotic Calcutta, his time seems to stretch endlessly but his boredom is suddenly stalled by a mysterious letter, one that arrives praising his talents and asking for his help in solving a murder mystery, a letter that is the beginning of it all. Mrs. Unger is a beautiful and very opinionated woman who's charities have saved many children from poverty and life of crime, she asks desperately for Jerry's help in clearing her son's friend from murder charges, a body of a nameless child has been found in his hotel room, and when he flees from the scene of crime it creates more questions than answers but Jerry is so blinded by her charms and beautify that he takes on this task, making new friends and enemies on the way and discovering the dark, rotten dirty secrets camouflaged by an exotic face of a foreign country. Mrs. Unger takes him under her wing and makes him desperate for her attention, she bewitches Jerry with her many talents and adds a rich layer of spice to the story, I had a great time solving the mystery which seem to take a back seat to the relationship that seemed to unfold between this perfect proper woman and a man who lusted after her. Things that happen are surprising and not as innocent as one would expect but the incoming discord and feeling of "something is wrong" make for a great read. Jeffry's lust and desperation were more interesting than the mystery itself, and I followed that road greedily, waiting to find out the truth.
I really enjoyed the language and the writing, the backdrop was amazing and the mystery was interesting but it clearly was not the main vein in the body of this work. I loved the character development because it made me feel close to what was going on, I felt connected to the the food and the people, the places and the décor, discovering the good and the ugly in each person was immensely enjoyable and I had a great time reading this book, it makes me want to read more of Paul Theroux and the journeys hidden between his pages, I definitely want to read more of his stories, there is an old fashioned charm to them with a modern edge that makes for an irresistible read.
- Kasia S.
December 7, 2016
I read a lot of John Updike in the past. They were written well, had good characterizations and plots, but they didn't "bowl" me over - I don't think he ever aimed for that. And then last year I was reading reviews of an Updike biography where we find out that almost every thing in his life ended up in his books - people, scenes, plots. I am reading the Bech books right now - and now I see that all they are are dramatized descriptions of his various author trips to other countries or "life-as-an-author" tales.
Of course other authors do this as well. Enter "A Dead Hand". In fact, Theroux explicitly references this halfway through the novel when the main character (a magazine feature writer) is anxious about meeting "Paul Theroux" because Theroux will steal his soul (well, it seemed like it). And throughout the book there are references to stuff being used later in books. It is obvious that Theroux is well aware of what he is doing and he can mitigate it by calling it out.
But (of course there is a but!), it is still kinda lazy - it shouldn't really be that much of a deal, but there is the admittedly romantic view that the artist "creates" rather than "rewrites". In this case, Theroux probably ran across some stories of sweatshop shenanigans when he was traveling India, and perhaps even ran across a tantric masseuse (should I say the masseuse ran across him.) And all this stuff, along with other things he encountered, gets sausaged into a novel.
What about the book just as itself? It actually read very well. There is a noir quality to the detective and the femme fatale, the manipulated detective, and the detective as white knight avenging wrongs. The plot is kinda one-dimensional, it does get kinda obvious after awhile in that there were no other characters to be behind the "dead hand" besides the ones that were already there. So the reader just ends up with scenarios of why, and this reader at least, wasn't too far off when the plot unraveled.
Of course other authors do this as well. Enter "A Dead Hand". In fact, Theroux explicitly references this halfway through the novel when the main character (a magazine feature writer) is anxious about meeting "Paul Theroux" because Theroux will steal his soul (well, it seemed like it). And throughout the book there are references to stuff being used later in books. It is obvious that Theroux is well aware of what he is doing and he can mitigate it by calling it out.
But (of course there is a but!), it is still kinda lazy - it shouldn't really be that much of a deal, but there is the admittedly romantic view that the artist "creates" rather than "rewrites". In this case, Theroux probably ran across some stories of sweatshop shenanigans when he was traveling India, and perhaps even ran across a tantric masseuse (should I say the masseuse ran across him.) And all this stuff, along with other things he encountered, gets sausaged into a novel.
What about the book just as itself? It actually read very well. There is a noir quality to the detective and the femme fatale, the manipulated detective, and the detective as white knight avenging wrongs. The plot is kinda one-dimensional, it does get kinda obvious after awhile in that there were no other characters to be behind the "dead hand" besides the ones that were already there. So the reader just ends up with scenarios of why, and this reader at least, wasn't too far off when the plot unraveled.
June 24, 2011
Well written but clunky. What I took away from reading this book is that Paul Theroux would be tons of fun to have dinner with but that maybe he shouldn't be writing novels any longer. This really a story about an older man looking for love and wondering if he can ever settle down; the Hitchcockian McGuffin involves a mysterious American woman living in India who entices and deceives him. The mechanics of the plot peek through like broken bone through skin; and he's heavy handed with the foreshadowing and the ominous portents. If you're interested in a warts-and-all portrait of modern India, this book is worth reading. Otherwise, well ... it's a bit of a struggle.
February 7, 2010
One of the best things about reading "A Dead Hand," is diving face-first into sixty-something writer Paul Theroux's scenes of epic tantric massages, then flipping to the author's bio on the dust jacket and giggling about how that man wrote these scenes.
For one thing, Theroux looks like a hybrid of Mr. Rourke from "Fantasy Island," and our former next door neighbor, a bronzed-skin scuba fanatic who sunned in a hammock on his deck with a Speedo balled up and balanced on his crotch -- not unlike a wet seal juggling a striped inflatable ball. With this in mind, I defy you to not titter at this:
"She used both her hands, her clutching fingers, to spread her sex like a flower. Or so it seemed to me as I watched, like an opening lotus with reddened and thickened petals."
That is by far the gem of a limitless collection of touching, prodding, and kneading in this kinda sorta mystery involving an uninspired travel writer Jerry Delfont, who is in Calcutta for business but stays on longer when he receives a handwritten letter from a Mrs. Unger, an alleged fan of his work who needs his help. Her son's friend, or maybe it's her son's boyfriend, wakes in a seedy hotel room and in the glow of his cell phone find the body of a dead boy laying on the floor. He freaks out, and high-tails it on out of there. Mrs. Unger wants Delfont to investigate this curious case.
Mrs. Unger is a quiet philanthropist, who dresses in Indian fashions and has "magic fingers," which she uses to seduce the heck out of Jerry Delfont. She splays him out on a table in a scented room and works over his entire body one millimeter at a time. As is often the case with dull, mal-developed male characters, he falls in love with her and does her bidding with a blind, unconditional, puppy-like eagerness. As Jerry gets further into the investigation, he realizes that she is not the untarnished beacon of good that he has been manipulated into believing.
Also: Theroux the author briefly introduces a character named Paul Theroux who is an obnoxious writer whom Jerry Delfont can barely tolerate. It's a strange introduction that really serves no purpose and sticks out like an added mustache crammed onto a Mr. Potato Head.
As far as mysteries go -- and I think this is a mystery -- it's not very mysterious. And if it's a crime novel, it's even less. Mostly it is filler between the descriptions of tantric massages, which are equal parts hilarious and infomercials for tantric massages that left me craving a good rub down. This is not a great book, it's a little better than okay. Jerry Delfont, whom Theroux has pinned the plot to, is a lifeless sap with questionable motivations. Nothing to regret reading, though.
Mostly I loved the sexy cover, which is exactly why I bought the book in the first place. I'm a sucker like that.
For one thing, Theroux looks like a hybrid of Mr. Rourke from "Fantasy Island," and our former next door neighbor, a bronzed-skin scuba fanatic who sunned in a hammock on his deck with a Speedo balled up and balanced on his crotch -- not unlike a wet seal juggling a striped inflatable ball. With this in mind, I defy you to not titter at this:
"She used both her hands, her clutching fingers, to spread her sex like a flower. Or so it seemed to me as I watched, like an opening lotus with reddened and thickened petals."
That is by far the gem of a limitless collection of touching, prodding, and kneading in this kinda sorta mystery involving an uninspired travel writer Jerry Delfont, who is in Calcutta for business but stays on longer when he receives a handwritten letter from a Mrs. Unger, an alleged fan of his work who needs his help. Her son's friend, or maybe it's her son's boyfriend, wakes in a seedy hotel room and in the glow of his cell phone find the body of a dead boy laying on the floor. He freaks out, and high-tails it on out of there. Mrs. Unger wants Delfont to investigate this curious case.
Mrs. Unger is a quiet philanthropist, who dresses in Indian fashions and has "magic fingers," which she uses to seduce the heck out of Jerry Delfont. She splays him out on a table in a scented room and works over his entire body one millimeter at a time. As is often the case with dull, mal-developed male characters, he falls in love with her and does her bidding with a blind, unconditional, puppy-like eagerness. As Jerry gets further into the investigation, he realizes that she is not the untarnished beacon of good that he has been manipulated into believing.
Also: Theroux the author briefly introduces a character named Paul Theroux who is an obnoxious writer whom Jerry Delfont can barely tolerate. It's a strange introduction that really serves no purpose and sticks out like an added mustache crammed onto a Mr. Potato Head.
As far as mysteries go -- and I think this is a mystery -- it's not very mysterious. And if it's a crime novel, it's even less. Mostly it is filler between the descriptions of tantric massages, which are equal parts hilarious and infomercials for tantric massages that left me craving a good rub down. This is not a great book, it's a little better than okay. Jerry Delfont, whom Theroux has pinned the plot to, is a lifeless sap with questionable motivations. Nothing to regret reading, though.
Mostly I loved the sexy cover, which is exactly why I bought the book in the first place. I'm a sucker like that.
July 5, 2010
There was lots I liked about this book. First was the view of Calcutta in the description of an experienced travel writer -- using as his main character an experienced travel writer. I liked his ability to render a sense of place -- and of worlds within that place-- the clean and wealthy enclaves, the dirty, smelly streets, the use and abuse of the poor by the rich. I liked the main character's sense of rootlessness and his self-consciousness about it. But most of all I liked the way Theroux handled the encounter with a priestess of Kali and her secret kundalini practices. I like the way he took us from his initial enchantment by her hand written letter and first meeting with her through his growing obsession with her and gradual initiation into the rites of erotic encounter in the sweet smelling vault of her sheltered home. I thought he handled this brilliantly, delicately, poetically.
I found this all the more valuable as the main character eventually discovers the dark side of his idol - the sacrfice not only of animals but of young children to the goddess and at that point finds the charge that had existed between him and the woman dissipate into repulsion. They need not speak it. Their touch communicates more than words can say.
There's more -- the train trip across India and again the contrast between rich and poor, but I thought the odd and almost impersonal intimacy between the writer and the woman with her erotic wisdom and the hidden rituals of kundalini, the book's greatest gift.
I was enchanted.
I found this all the more valuable as the main character eventually discovers the dark side of his idol - the sacrfice not only of animals but of young children to the goddess and at that point finds the charge that had existed between him and the woman dissipate into repulsion. They need not speak it. Their touch communicates more than words can say.
There's more -- the train trip across India and again the contrast between rich and poor, but I thought the odd and almost impersonal intimacy between the writer and the woman with her erotic wisdom and the hidden rituals of kundalini, the book's greatest gift.
I was enchanted.
September 25, 2015
This book is STEAMY-SEXY-PAGE-TURNING-GRIPPING.....
and **Pulchritudinous! (my new favorite word....meaning "physically beautiful)!!!
I read it the DAY it was released! (awhile ago)
I'm excited to read -starting today-- Paul's new travel book "Deep South" (thank you Netgalley)
and **Pulchritudinous! (my new favorite word....meaning "physically beautiful)!!!
I read it the DAY it was released! (awhile ago)
I'm excited to read -starting today-- Paul's new travel book "Deep South" (thank you Netgalley)
September 24, 2012
AKA "A Dead Hand: Paul Theroux does Ayurveda"
Oh, I missed Paul Theroux. And here he is writing about India again, writing about a writer again, and wham, my completely inappropriate HUGE crush on Theroux is back.
I never ever had that feeling about another writer. Seriously. Reading this book felt like meeting with an old friend. Not an old lover (I wish), because you realized too late that this was someone you could love, so you never actually tried. So now, whenever you meet, you get that pleasant buzz of meeting someone who you would have had an affair with under different circumstances (okay, in this case it's more a case of someone who you'd havy happily married and had tons of little writer kids with to watch grow up, hoping that none of them would end up writing graphic novels, and well, you know, true love and everything.)
But stop, that's not what happens. What happens is that nothing ever happened, and you meet from time to time and you get excited, happy, this completely gleeful happiness that comes from deep down in your belly, when you notice after the first few pages that indeed, the author you are reading is still as brillant as you remember him and also so very much Paul Theroux, and OMG DID I MENTION THAT I LOVE PAUL THEROUX?
At this point, you must have gotten the impression that "A Dead Hand" is the most brillant book ever. Sadly, it isn't. I mean, it's good (and I will tell you about this later), but I think what I loved most about it is that feeling I was trying to describe above - this feeling of recognition. It's just so...Paul Theroux. He is the only writer who I recognize by his writing style. And recognizing that I did made me feel all giddy with anticipation for the book I was reading.
Which doesn't even start all that exciting. It starts with a letter (classic, but certainly not new), a letter send by an American woman living in India to a writer who happens to be in Calcutta with nothing else to do than to meet with her and to listen to her story about a dead body which suddenly appeared in a hotel room, wrapped in a carpet. The writer gets caught up in the story and in the woman (here's where the Ayurveda comes in), and the way he is drawn into that world, the feelings, the taste, the chaos and the people - you can almost taste India in Theroux's writing.
Yet again Theroux uses a writer as his protagonist. This time though, he makes it very clear that this writer is not him, by having his protagonist meet himself, meet Paul Theroux.
That scene is noticeable not only because of its very metaness, even for Theroux, but also because it is such a noticeable break in the story - which I almost wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the repetition of [a word that I would happily look up if I had the copy of the book here, but trust me, there was repetition].
Which makes me wonder all kind of things: Did he do that on purpose? Did he want us to notice? Also, is my head going to break if I think anymore about what it says about Theroux that he describes himself the way he does through the eyes of a character he writes knowing that we will wonder what it says about himself therefore being able to change his description accordingly which of course he cannot do because it's still Paul Theroux writing about Paul Theroux and yes, I think my head is breaking.
Quite possibly I wasn't meant to wonder about this as much as I did.
Anyway, there's a meeting, and it's a turning point in the story, intentional or not, because after the meeting (albeit without any help from Paul Theroux), our protagonist's feelings about the Amercian woman slowly being to change and the story about the dead hand slowly begins to unfold.
I won't give away the ending, but it's good. It's not unexpected, far from it, I predicted something like that almost immediately. But then, this is not a crime story. It's a story about a crime in Calcutta. And it's probably my favourite book this year - for purely personal reasons (as shown at length and in incoherency above).
Read and enjoy, my fellow Theroux-fans! (who are out there somewhere. I think.)
Oh, I missed Paul Theroux. And here he is writing about India again, writing about a writer again, and wham, my completely inappropriate HUGE crush on Theroux is back.
I never ever had that feeling about another writer. Seriously. Reading this book felt like meeting with an old friend. Not an old lover (I wish), because you realized too late that this was someone you could love, so you never actually tried. So now, whenever you meet, you get that pleasant buzz of meeting someone who you would have had an affair with under different circumstances (okay, in this case it's more a case of someone who you'd havy happily married and had tons of little writer kids with to watch grow up, hoping that none of them would end up writing graphic novels, and well, you know, true love and everything.)
But stop, that's not what happens. What happens is that nothing ever happened, and you meet from time to time and you get excited, happy, this completely gleeful happiness that comes from deep down in your belly, when you notice after the first few pages that indeed, the author you are reading is still as brillant as you remember him and also so very much Paul Theroux, and OMG DID I MENTION THAT I LOVE PAUL THEROUX?
At this point, you must have gotten the impression that "A Dead Hand" is the most brillant book ever. Sadly, it isn't. I mean, it's good (and I will tell you about this later), but I think what I loved most about it is that feeling I was trying to describe above - this feeling of recognition. It's just so...Paul Theroux. He is the only writer who I recognize by his writing style. And recognizing that I did made me feel all giddy with anticipation for the book I was reading.
Which doesn't even start all that exciting. It starts with a letter (classic, but certainly not new), a letter send by an American woman living in India to a writer who happens to be in Calcutta with nothing else to do than to meet with her and to listen to her story about a dead body which suddenly appeared in a hotel room, wrapped in a carpet. The writer gets caught up in the story and in the woman (here's where the Ayurveda comes in), and the way he is drawn into that world, the feelings, the taste, the chaos and the people - you can almost taste India in Theroux's writing.
Yet again Theroux uses a writer as his protagonist. This time though, he makes it very clear that this writer is not him, by having his protagonist meet himself, meet Paul Theroux.
That scene is noticeable not only because of its very metaness, even for Theroux, but also because it is such a noticeable break in the story - which I almost wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the repetition of [a word that I would happily look up if I had the copy of the book here, but trust me, there was repetition].
Which makes me wonder all kind of things: Did he do that on purpose? Did he want us to notice? Also, is my head going to break if I think anymore about what it says about Theroux that he describes himself the way he does through the eyes of a character he writes knowing that we will wonder what it says about himself therefore being able to change his description accordingly which of course he cannot do because it's still Paul Theroux writing about Paul Theroux and yes, I think my head is breaking.
Quite possibly I wasn't meant to wonder about this as much as I did.
Anyway, there's a meeting, and it's a turning point in the story, intentional or not, because after the meeting (albeit without any help from Paul Theroux), our protagonist's feelings about the Amercian woman slowly being to change and the story about the dead hand slowly begins to unfold.
I won't give away the ending, but it's good. It's not unexpected, far from it, I predicted something like that almost immediately. But then, this is not a crime story. It's a story about a crime in Calcutta. And it's probably my favourite book this year - for purely personal reasons (as shown at length and in incoherency above).
Read and enjoy, my fellow Theroux-fans! (who are out there somewhere. I think.)
April 4, 2010
I wish I could give this book 6 stars. The image of Goddess Kali on the book jacket is haunting and disturbing, and though I had to put the book face down when I wasn't reading it, I found the book to be completely gripping.
The book starts out slowly, and we're introduced to the protagonist. He's a writer, he's living in Calcutta, India, and he's got "writer's block" or "dead hand" and appears to be a bit pathetic and aimless. He's managed to avoid society's expectations by traveling around and making himself seem busy and worldly.
I find that what I enjoy most about a book is the extent to which the author develops the characters. We get introduced to Mrs. Unger, or "Ma" and the corollary characters Charlie, Rajat, Howard, Parvati and endless "Bengali pedants." The most intriguing character by far is Ma, who the protagonist becomes enamored and obsessed with.
We don't even learn the name of the protagonist until he introduces "Paul Theroux," a guileless author who wants to meet him to find out more about Ma. I found it a clever trick to introduce a character with the author's name.
The plot takes the reader to many unknown parts of India, and the pretext which Ma ensnares the protagonist into her web takes many unexpected and disturbing turns. I found myself captivated by the beauty, mystery and allure that Ma shows us, and horrified by the filth and smells of the streets of Calcutta and beyond. I didn't realize how horrifying the once beautiful Ma could turn out to be.
Bravo - a must-read for anyone interested in India, traveling, mystery or the beauty/underbelly of inner life.
The book starts out slowly, and we're introduced to the protagonist. He's a writer, he's living in Calcutta, India, and he's got "writer's block" or "dead hand" and appears to be a bit pathetic and aimless. He's managed to avoid society's expectations by traveling around and making himself seem busy and worldly.
I find that what I enjoy most about a book is the extent to which the author develops the characters. We get introduced to Mrs. Unger, or "Ma" and the corollary characters Charlie, Rajat, Howard, Parvati and endless "Bengali pedants." The most intriguing character by far is Ma, who the protagonist becomes enamored and obsessed with.
We don't even learn the name of the protagonist until he introduces "Paul Theroux," a guileless author who wants to meet him to find out more about Ma. I found it a clever trick to introduce a character with the author's name.
The plot takes the reader to many unknown parts of India, and the pretext which Ma ensnares the protagonist into her web takes many unexpected and disturbing turns. I found myself captivated by the beauty, mystery and allure that Ma shows us, and horrified by the filth and smells of the streets of Calcutta and beyond. I didn't realize how horrifying the once beautiful Ma could turn out to be.
Bravo - a must-read for anyone interested in India, traveling, mystery or the beauty/underbelly of inner life.
October 17, 2010
Known for his travel essays, Paul releases a novel that takes us to the hidden areas of Calcutta not commonly visited by tourists. A travel writer with writer's block, receives a letter that intrigues him. He decides to visit the author of the letter and in doing so, he is unwittingly drawn into a mysterious woman's web of tantric massages, the slums of Calcutta, orphaned children, rescued children, temple sacrifices, oh and a dead body wrapped in a carpet that appeared one evening in an Indian boy's hotel room.
Who's the dead boy? Why was he sought out to help? Who really is this mysterious rich woman who seems to do so much for the poor children in India? What really lies behind the iron gates of her mansion? What is her son hiding?
Theroux has a wonderful way of describing places and scenes that is so evocative you feel as if you're there. You feel the heat, the dust and you smell the poverty, the fear and the ecstasy. And just when you're sitting comfortably in the story, he injects a prickling down the back of your neck. Nothing is as they appear, but what are the risks of delving into the mystery to find the truth?
Who's the dead boy? Why was he sought out to help? Who really is this mysterious rich woman who seems to do so much for the poor children in India? What really lies behind the iron gates of her mansion? What is her son hiding?
Theroux has a wonderful way of describing places and scenes that is so evocative you feel as if you're there. You feel the heat, the dust and you smell the poverty, the fear and the ecstasy. And just when you're sitting comfortably in the story, he injects a prickling down the back of your neck. Nothing is as they appear, but what are the risks of delving into the mystery to find the truth?
June 15, 2016
Spoiler alert! -- This highly symbolist book certainly does not deserve all the bad reviews it has got. Theroux is far too clever to write a solidly BAD book, no? - The narrator Jerry Delfont, an American travel writer, not very successful, single and lonely, quickly advancing towards old age, experiences a writer's block, a "dead hand", in Calcutta, of all places. A number of strange occurrences draw him towards an attractive compatriot, called "Ma", who has gone native, hates all things British and runs some kind of charity involving orphans. – To enjoy the book one has to take it with a pinch of salt, NOT reading it as the crime novel it only structurally might claim to be: Maybe writing this little fantasy helped Theroux himself overcome a writer's block? Clearly Delfont, who even meets famous travel writer Paul Theroux (!) right in the midst of the novel, is some kind of alter ego to him, the result of PT's musings along the lines of "what if I hadn't been successful as a writer, what if I hadn't found my soul mate and married...?" Seen from this perspective to make the old man Delfont fall for somewhat blunt tantric seductions is rather self-depreciating, wrily amusing, tongue in cheek. And "Ma" with her love for "earthen" food, to me read like a sad, modern and Americanized version of the mythic "Mother India": Sensuous, seductive to Westerners, shamelessly commercialising spirituality, corrupt, without any social conscience, selling her beautiful children to the West for a pittance...
October 22, 2013
I liked the style of the writing but I felt that the author got distracted from the plot in the middle two thirds of the book and lost my attention with it.
What started off promising to be a pacey hardboiled crime novel meandered into swathes of fawning obsession over a woman and pages of repetitive descriptions of tantric massages.
I would have given up by the half-way point if this weren't such a short book and I do feel that the pace picked up at the very end as the book returned to the mystery with some urgency. However, it seemed like it had been an awfully long slog on my part as the reader to get there.
This was the first book by Paul Theroux that I've read and while I found it slightly disappointing I would be interested to read more of his work. Next time though I'll pick a different genre.
What started off promising to be a pacey hardboiled crime novel meandered into swathes of fawning obsession over a woman and pages of repetitive descriptions of tantric massages.
I would have given up by the half-way point if this weren't such a short book and I do feel that the pace picked up at the very end as the book returned to the mystery with some urgency. However, it seemed like it had been an awfully long slog on my part as the reader to get there.
This was the first book by Paul Theroux that I've read and while I found it slightly disappointing I would be interested to read more of his work. Next time though I'll pick a different genre.
June 15, 2022
Paul Theroux is an incredibly well-traveled writer who is the author of numerous books documenting his travels. A Dead Hand: A Crime in Calcutta is about a travel writer who is experiencing writer's block while in Calcutta. Quite unexpectedly, he receives an invitation from a mysterious philanthropist, a Mrs Merrill Unger, to solve a possible crime.
He meets with Mrs Unger and is drawn into her orbit, which includes tantric cougar sex. She comes to rely on him as an occasional companion, while in the interim he investigates the crime he was invited to solve -- a crime which Mrs Unger suddenly de-emphasizes in her meetings with the writer.
Curiously, Paul Theroux, in addition to being the author of the book, is also a character in the novel -- on who wants to get information about Mrs Unger. The novel narrator claims never to have met her, and says some nasty things about Theroux in the novel. It's actually quite funny.
While I have never been to India, I imagine that Theroux, who has been there several times, gives what I feel is an accurate sense of the place. The whole of the novel takes place before the monsoonal rains arrive, around which time the narrator learns some interesting things about the mysterious and alluring Mrs Unger. An excellent novel.
He meets with Mrs Unger and is drawn into her orbit, which includes tantric cougar sex. She comes to rely on him as an occasional companion, while in the interim he investigates the crime he was invited to solve -- a crime which Mrs Unger suddenly de-emphasizes in her meetings with the writer.
Curiously, Paul Theroux, in addition to being the author of the book, is also a character in the novel -- on who wants to get information about Mrs Unger. The novel narrator claims never to have met her, and says some nasty things about Theroux in the novel. It's actually quite funny.
While I have never been to India, I imagine that Theroux, who has been there several times, gives what I feel is an accurate sense of the place. The whole of the novel takes place before the monsoonal rains arrive, around which time the narrator learns some interesting things about the mysterious and alluring Mrs Unger. An excellent novel.
December 8, 2015
At one point a character in this book mentions that there are no good books about India. And he's right. This is not a good book about India. It starts out dabbling in the typical Western fascination with the "mystical beauty and wonder" of India before diving into the seedy underbelly of child labor that underpins the country's economy. Unfortunately though, the book is so American, filled with sweeping generalizations and caricatures of Indian characters, that I found reading it to be almost intolerable.
October 5, 2014
Paul Theroux's "A Dead Hand" is a little predictable in plot, but has a surprising complexity of metaphor to it, and a wry, observational writing style that separates it from pulp murder-mystery novels.
In brief, Jeff Delfont's a travelling writer in India who's out of inspiration (and calls his writers' block a "dead hand" -- this comes up again in a chilling physical form -- spoiler alert) and who receives a letter asking for his help in protecting a boy implicated in a murder.
The letter comes from Mrs. Unger, a woman who Delfont immediately falls in love with, against his better judgment -- and this comes right after he tells his friend "I'm a the stage in my life where I no longer see a woman and say to myself 'Maybe she's the one for me.'" He worships her and does everything to help her, until she reveals her true nature. I thought too much of the book was his endless description of her statuesque beauty, and not enough in the actual mystery, but at least he gives the reader a clear indication of who she is.
It was strange to me that Theroux -- the real author of the book -- has his character Delfont run into the character version of Theroux, and portrays him(self) as a shrewd asshole. The two characters have an unpleasant interaction in which Theroux talks down to Defont, making smalltalk but really trying to suss out what Delfont's really doing in Calcutta.
And of Calcutta, Theroux (the real author) describes it in unflattering terms as well. "People write about landscapes like this and because they're so far from home they feel they have to make it pretty. Look, it's not pretty at all. It's ugly. It's a great featureless emptiness, an awfulness of trapped people and peasant misery. You gape at it. It gapes back at you." That realism is appealing if you've ever read any travel writing that does nothing but embellish for the sake of embellishment.
I was hooked from the get-go and throughout the whole story. Theroux knows how to write a good mystery -- definitely recommend him.
In brief, Jeff Delfont's a travelling writer in India who's out of inspiration (and calls his writers' block a "dead hand" -- this comes up again in a chilling physical form -- spoiler alert) and who receives a letter asking for his help in protecting a boy implicated in a murder.
The letter comes from Mrs. Unger, a woman who Delfont immediately falls in love with, against his better judgment -- and this comes right after he tells his friend "I'm a the stage in my life where I no longer see a woman and say to myself 'Maybe she's the one for me.'" He worships her and does everything to help her, until she reveals her true nature. I thought too much of the book was his endless description of her statuesque beauty, and not enough in the actual mystery, but at least he gives the reader a clear indication of who she is.
It was strange to me that Theroux -- the real author of the book -- has his character Delfont run into the character version of Theroux, and portrays him(self) as a shrewd asshole. The two characters have an unpleasant interaction in which Theroux talks down to Defont, making smalltalk but really trying to suss out what Delfont's really doing in Calcutta.
And of Calcutta, Theroux (the real author) describes it in unflattering terms as well. "People write about landscapes like this and because they're so far from home they feel they have to make it pretty. Look, it's not pretty at all. It's ugly. It's a great featureless emptiness, an awfulness of trapped people and peasant misery. You gape at it. It gapes back at you." That realism is appealing if you've ever read any travel writing that does nothing but embellish for the sake of embellishment.
I was hooked from the get-go and throughout the whole story. Theroux knows how to write a good mystery -- definitely recommend him.
January 5, 2012
Well Theroux is an outstanding fiction technician. But like P D James, maybe he has written a few too many. There is not much of a plot in this book, other than his alter ego’s, Jerry Delfont, obsession with a mysterious, tantric, wealthy US woman in Calcutta. It is preposterous, but one does become captivated by the inner world of this obsession. I’m surprise that Theroux who is supposedly such a well-traveled, culturally competent in India writer, that he’d use the colonial names for cities like Calcutta (instead of Kalkota). It seems like Theroux found a couple of interesting facts like children who tie knots to make rugs have their finger prints rubbed off, and build a whole novel around it. The double meaning of the title, “The Dead Hand,” i.e. his writer’s block and the mystery of who killed a child whose hand is saved by a maid. I read the whole thing in a couple of nights, so it got my attention but I was offended by Theroux’ arrogance. Oh, I almost forgot, he has himself the writer appear in the book as a stuck up journalist/writer, at least he has a sense of humor.
August 20, 2011
"A Dead Hand: A Crime in Calcutta","Paul Theroux"
"I found this an unpleasant and disturbing story about a Western writer who gets involved with a wealthy and mysterious woman renowned for charity work when she asks him to solve a murder. The woman is not what she seems and leads him through the cults and child labor workshops in the country. Found the story ugly and pointless."
"I found this an unpleasant and disturbing story about a Western writer who gets involved with a wealthy and mysterious woman renowned for charity work when she asks him to solve a murder. The woman is not what she seems and leads him through the cults and child labor workshops in the country. Found the story ugly and pointless."
January 24, 2022
Booo. I didn’t like this book. Pretentious and stupid. And the main character was written like a kid straight out of college, not a middle aged man. Very bad and uninteresting and douchey
November 1, 2020
India, oh India. It's truly the main character in this story, not simply the backdrop. The other characters and their dramas were far less interesting. It was their reactions to and observations of the push-pull force of India that held my attention when the plot got lost in the sauce. I very much appreciated Theroux's detailed descriptions. It was nice to experience some time in India without the long plane trips, the inevitable bout of Delhi belly and the near constant feeling of fatigue from trying to fathom the unfathomable at every turn. 4.5 stars.
September 3, 2023
A wonderful and evocative read with powerfully drawn characters in vivid settings. I could smell and hear India, imagine myself right there. The finale had me holding my breath with unexpected and devastating twists right to the very end.
March 13, 2013
>A Dead Hand opens with the protagonist, Jerry Delfont, receiving an unexpected and unusual letter. Delfont is a traveling writer who is temporarily in Calcutta. The letter is from an American businesswoman and philanthropist who seems to have gone native in India. The woman, Merrill "Ma" Unger, asks Delfont to investigate a mysterious event involving her son's boyfriend, a young Indian man named Rajat.
Rajat claims to have woken up one night in his cheap hotel room to find the dead body of a boy on the floor. Rajat panicked and left, and is living in fear that he will be picked by the police.
The book in part traces Delfont's investigation of this mysterious body, and in part describes his burgeoning relationship with "Ma" Unger. The former is slow going through the first 2/3 of the book, and at some points one wonders if Delfont has forgotten about the investigation altogether.
The title has a dual meaning. It describes both the writer's block Delfont is suffering at the beginning of the book and the actual physical hand that turns up as the sole remaining trace of the dead boy that turns out really was in Rajat's room.
Coming from famed traveling writer Paul Theroux, it's no surprise that the development of setting is phenomenal. Theroux not only gives one a sense of the sights, sounds, and scents of Calcutta, he also gives the reader insight into the human dimension of India through a number of supporting characters. There is a passionate young woman who writes poetry and practices the Indian martial art of Kalaripayattu. She is a strong, bright, and independent woman but is stuck in a world of arranged marriages and sexual repression. Despite the official end of the caste system, we see completely subservient Indians as well as others who think they are beyond talking to a lowly writer.
The plotting is solid. It's neither exceptional nor so flat or formulaic as to be boring. I, who am not particularly good at foreseeing plot twists, did anticipate the ending--at least in broad brush stroke terms. However, the book kept me interested and reading. There was a clear narrative arc and the main character definitely undergoes a change over the course of the book (more on that below.)
In my opinion, the book's weakness is in character development, and specifically Delfont's character. We are introduced to a Delfont who is having a tough time, but is essentially a likable guy with his head on straight. However, as he begins to fall for "Ma" Unger, he seems increasingly pathetic. Specifically, he falls into this weird relationship in which he seems to see her both sexually and maternally, and--like a schoolboy with a crush--he wants to do anything he can to please her and to gain her attention. Now, being pathetic is a little like being crazy. If the character knows or suspects they are crazy, then how crazy can they really be? Because Delfont recognizes he's being pathetic, he remains a sympathetic character. However, I think Theroux over hammers the degree to which Delfont is smitten until we begin to think he is obsessed. The problem is that it makes his transformation and that of his relationship with "Ma", which happens like the flip of a switch, less credible.
All and all, I would recommend this book. I think it's particularly interesting for one who wants greater insight into India and, specifically, Calcutta.
Rajat claims to have woken up one night in his cheap hotel room to find the dead body of a boy on the floor. Rajat panicked and left, and is living in fear that he will be picked by the police.
The book in part traces Delfont's investigation of this mysterious body, and in part describes his burgeoning relationship with "Ma" Unger. The former is slow going through the first 2/3 of the book, and at some points one wonders if Delfont has forgotten about the investigation altogether.
The title has a dual meaning. It describes both the writer's block Delfont is suffering at the beginning of the book and the actual physical hand that turns up as the sole remaining trace of the dead boy that turns out really was in Rajat's room.
Coming from famed traveling writer Paul Theroux, it's no surprise that the development of setting is phenomenal. Theroux not only gives one a sense of the sights, sounds, and scents of Calcutta, he also gives the reader insight into the human dimension of India through a number of supporting characters. There is a passionate young woman who writes poetry and practices the Indian martial art of Kalaripayattu. She is a strong, bright, and independent woman but is stuck in a world of arranged marriages and sexual repression. Despite the official end of the caste system, we see completely subservient Indians as well as others who think they are beyond talking to a lowly writer.
The plotting is solid. It's neither exceptional nor so flat or formulaic as to be boring. I, who am not particularly good at foreseeing plot twists, did anticipate the ending--at least in broad brush stroke terms. However, the book kept me interested and reading. There was a clear narrative arc and the main character definitely undergoes a change over the course of the book (more on that below.)
In my opinion, the book's weakness is in character development, and specifically Delfont's character. We are introduced to a Delfont who is having a tough time, but is essentially a likable guy with his head on straight. However, as he begins to fall for "Ma" Unger, he seems increasingly pathetic. Specifically, he falls into this weird relationship in which he seems to see her both sexually and maternally, and--like a schoolboy with a crush--he wants to do anything he can to please her and to gain her attention. Now, being pathetic is a little like being crazy. If the character knows or suspects they are crazy, then how crazy can they really be? Because Delfont recognizes he's being pathetic, he remains a sympathetic character. However, I think Theroux over hammers the degree to which Delfont is smitten until we begin to think he is obsessed. The problem is that it makes his transformation and that of his relationship with "Ma", which happens like the flip of a switch, less credible.
All and all, I would recommend this book. I think it's particularly interesting for one who wants greater insight into India and, specifically, Calcutta.
September 16, 2022
This is not a novel, it's a joke. Acclaimed travel writer Paul Theroux gets all his facts about Calcutta wrong - so you wonder what kind of a travel writer he is - and plays on stereotypes and misinformation. Sample this: 'It wasn't possible for me to be alone with an Indian woman, and a mere stroll on the Maidan needed supervision.' Or, 'Women need chaperones. They don't marry for love.' Hey dude, this is not Victorian Calcutta of the 19th century, the plot is set in the second decade of the 21st century! And the less said about the plot, the better. It looks like a bumbling efforts of an amateur writer. Avoid this like a plague, and I'm going to avoid all his other works too.
November 19, 2009
Paul Theoux has written many fiction books but is best known for his travel writing. A Dead Hand is the first of his books that I have read, and to be honest, it will probably be the last.
As the title implies; A Dead Hand : A Crime In Calcutta, is set in India and is narrated by an American writer called Jeffrey Delfont.
Delfont has been giving a series of lectures and now has some free time to spend in Calcutta - he is also suffering from writer's block (dead hand). Delfont receives a letter from a woman called Merrill Unger - a mysterious letter claiming that her son's friend has been found dead, and could Delfont investigate?
So off he goes to meet Merrill and her son and to try and find out who is the murderer.
The descriptions of Calcutta and the characterisation of Merrill are very well done, but I just found the whole writing style quite bizarre - in fact the whole plot is bizarre. In the middle of the story Delfont meets up with Paul Theroux (yes, Paul Theroux, the author of this book!). There are also some pretty wild, if unbelievably daft sex scenes.
Keep reading to see who dunnit - but dont hold your breath!
As the title implies; A Dead Hand : A Crime In Calcutta, is set in India and is narrated by an American writer called Jeffrey Delfont.
Delfont has been giving a series of lectures and now has some free time to spend in Calcutta - he is also suffering from writer's block (dead hand). Delfont receives a letter from a woman called Merrill Unger - a mysterious letter claiming that her son's friend has been found dead, and could Delfont investigate?
So off he goes to meet Merrill and her son and to try and find out who is the murderer.
The descriptions of Calcutta and the characterisation of Merrill are very well done, but I just found the whole writing style quite bizarre - in fact the whole plot is bizarre. In the middle of the story Delfont meets up with Paul Theroux (yes, Paul Theroux, the author of this book!). There are also some pretty wild, if unbelievably daft sex scenes.
Keep reading to see who dunnit - but dont hold your breath!
November 12, 2011
I know that Paul Theroux has a recognition as a writer of fiction larger than his abilities as a travel hack. having got to know him in the latter trade, and loving his grumpiness, I could not find my way to finding any connection with the characters in this fictional work. When you do not empathise with the characters, it doesn't matter what happens to them and, to my shame, I did not stop long enough to find out.
October 27, 2010
I loved this book. Even though I'm not a Theroux fan, he really caught lightning in a bottle with this book.
June 19, 2023
Fucked up rubbish. An arresting book cover absolutely wasted on a lousy, stupid story. The only saving grace was the book cover. Set my hopes on a high pedestal based on the cover. Boy was I wrong 😑
I think writers and publishers who cheat their readers ought to be sued & prosecuted. Paul Theroux will be on top of the list. So livid right now that I want to box the organ between his ears.
I wanted to read The Great Railway Bazaar by Paul Theroux. Came across this title first and jumped right into it because it says CRIME IN CALCUTTA. I couldn’t have found a more misleading title in my life. Learnt the hard way that this author is a fraud. He should be institutionalised actually. His brain wiring is messed up.
Where’s the crime? I’ll tell you. The crime is giving a stupid the chance to write something.
The entire story is about an equally stupid man tourist in Calcutta who has a twisted sexual fantasy for a cougar lady who claims she is a universal mother.
Deprived of sex. Boy has “Mummy issues”.
The usual mumbo jumbo of tantric sex, kundalini, dakini, soul, spirit, trance, healing, energy. Sick.
Just say so if it’s a mummy issue story you know. Would have saved my time and effort.
Reading about mummy issues doesn’t arouse me.
Voyeuristic writing. He comes as a cameo in his own story too. Completely banal and pointless. No crime, no mystery, no thrill. More like a hand writing practice as once wisely said by my book friend @thisotherbookaccount.
Paul Theroux is a shame. He needs to quit writing.
No more of this stupid writer’s damned books. What an idiot.
#adeadhand #paultheroux #marinerbooks #houghtonmifflinharcourt #publiclibrarysg #bookstagram #sgbookstagram #igreads #bookreview #bookreviewersofinstagram #readersofinstagram #read #book #crimefiction
I think writers and publishers who cheat their readers ought to be sued & prosecuted. Paul Theroux will be on top of the list. So livid right now that I want to box the organ between his ears.
I wanted to read The Great Railway Bazaar by Paul Theroux. Came across this title first and jumped right into it because it says CRIME IN CALCUTTA. I couldn’t have found a more misleading title in my life. Learnt the hard way that this author is a fraud. He should be institutionalised actually. His brain wiring is messed up.
Where’s the crime? I’ll tell you. The crime is giving a stupid the chance to write something.
The entire story is about an equally stupid man tourist in Calcutta who has a twisted sexual fantasy for a cougar lady who claims she is a universal mother.
Deprived of sex. Boy has “Mummy issues”.
The usual mumbo jumbo of tantric sex, kundalini, dakini, soul, spirit, trance, healing, energy. Sick.
Just say so if it’s a mummy issue story you know. Would have saved my time and effort.
Reading about mummy issues doesn’t arouse me.
Voyeuristic writing. He comes as a cameo in his own story too. Completely banal and pointless. No crime, no mystery, no thrill. More like a hand writing practice as once wisely said by my book friend @thisotherbookaccount.
Paul Theroux is a shame. He needs to quit writing.
No more of this stupid writer’s damned books. What an idiot.
#adeadhand #paultheroux #marinerbooks #houghtonmifflinharcourt #publiclibrarysg #bookstagram #sgbookstagram #igreads #bookreview #bookreviewersofinstagram #readersofinstagram #read #book #crimefiction
September 30, 2024
A Dead Hand is a captivating thriller set in the vibrant, yet enigmatic city of Calcutta. The novel follows Jerry Delfont, a writer struggling with writer's block, as he becomes entangled in a mysterious web of intrigue and danger. The story begins with a mysterious letter that draws Delfont into a world of tantric rituals, hidden wealth, and a murder that refuses to be forgotten. The author's vivid descriptions of Calcutta's chaotic streets, opulent mansions, and seedy underbelly create a palpable atmosphere of suspense and intrigue.
Jerry Delfont is a complex and flawed character. His struggle with writer's block mirrors the novel's overarching theme of stagnation and the search for meaning. As he becomes increasingly involved in the mystery surrounding the dead boy, Delfont's own personal demons begin to surface, adding depth and complexity to his character. A Dead Hand is more than just a mystery thriller; it's a dark exploration of obsession, power, and the consequences of unchecked desire. Theroux delves into the world of tantric rituals and explores the dangerous allure of forbidden knowledge.
One of the novel's strengths lies in Theroux's ability to seamlessly blend fiction with reality. His portrayal of Calcutta is both accurate and evocative, capturing the city's unique blend of beauty and decay. A Dead Hand is a gripping and thought-provoking novel that will keep readers on the edge of their seats. With its complex characters, atmospheric setting, and exploration of dark themes, this book is a must-read for fans of mystery, thriller, and literary fiction.
Jerry Delfont is a complex and flawed character. His struggle with writer's block mirrors the novel's overarching theme of stagnation and the search for meaning. As he becomes increasingly involved in the mystery surrounding the dead boy, Delfont's own personal demons begin to surface, adding depth and complexity to his character. A Dead Hand is more than just a mystery thriller; it's a dark exploration of obsession, power, and the consequences of unchecked desire. Theroux delves into the world of tantric rituals and explores the dangerous allure of forbidden knowledge.
One of the novel's strengths lies in Theroux's ability to seamlessly blend fiction with reality. His portrayal of Calcutta is both accurate and evocative, capturing the city's unique blend of beauty and decay. A Dead Hand is a gripping and thought-provoking novel that will keep readers on the edge of their seats. With its complex characters, atmospheric setting, and exploration of dark themes, this book is a must-read for fans of mystery, thriller, and literary fiction.
April 8, 2019
Overall, A Dead Hand is a fun read. The protagonist is a travel writer (much like the author of this book) who arrives in Calcutta in order to fulfill a temporary lecturer position. After his lectures are done he receives a letter from a mysterious woman who wants our protagonist to help solve a murder. This mystery spirals into an exciting crime adventure. The author must deal with his infatuation with this elusive woman and get to the bottom of who killed the boy in the hotel room. The author of this compelling book is responsible for two flaws. One, he constantly repeats his feelings and past occasions. We as readers are compelled to skip whole paragraphs... yes we remember Ma’s hidden vault and the protagonist’s attraction to her in that moment. Another flaw is the lack of depth in the Indian characters. In addition, negative stereotypes are assumed about the natives.
January 16, 2022
Theroux at his best makes us understand the setting as well as we understand the protagonist. While is achieves that here in relating life in Calcutta, the story itself was rather clunky. Along the way, you experience tantric sex, animal sacrifice, sweat shops with children, Mother Teresa, and the attitudes of the people. There is even a meta aspect, in which Theroux appears as a character that the protagonist does not like. The whole book is rather meta because ultimately it is about the writing of the book itself.
Nevertheless, there are some unresolved story lines and the central plot wraps up rather brusquely after a couple hundred pages of elongated reflection. It is fine, particularly if you have an interest in the region, but this is not Theroux at his best.
Nevertheless, there are some unresolved story lines and the central plot wraps up rather brusquely after a couple hundred pages of elongated reflection. It is fine, particularly if you have an interest in the region, but this is not Theroux at his best.
December 21, 2024
I have read many Paul Theroux books and I can honestly say, I prefer his nonfiction. At least Theroux’s vanity is open and honest.
I wouldn’t have normally picked up Theroux’s fiction but it was the only English book available on holiday.
The mystery behind the severed hand barely disguises the massive ego involved with our protagonist meeting “himself” in a veiled effort to create depth to this story.
I have not encountered this particular technique in a book before but I have got to say I find it so self congratulatory-oh yes, Jerry finds much fault with “Paul Theroux” as they size each other up but I do not think for a nanosecond I am not being patronized as the reader. Now I’m a sure if I want to even finish the book.
I wouldn’t have normally picked up Theroux’s fiction but it was the only English book available on holiday.
The mystery behind the severed hand barely disguises the massive ego involved with our protagonist meeting “himself” in a veiled effort to create depth to this story.
I have not encountered this particular technique in a book before but I have got to say I find it so self congratulatory-oh yes, Jerry finds much fault with “Paul Theroux” as they size each other up but I do not think for a nanosecond I am not being patronized as the reader. Now I’m a sure if I want to even finish the book.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 184 reviews