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A New World
A year after his divorce, Jayojit Chatterjee, an economics professor in the American Midwest, travels to his native Calcutta with his young son, Bonny, to spend the summer holidays with his parents. Jayojit is no more accustomed to spending time alone with Bonny–who lives with his mother in California–than he is with the Admiral and his wife, whose daily rhythms have become so synchronized as to become completely foreign to their son. Together, the unlikely foursome struggles to pass the protracted hours of summer, each in his or her own way mourning Jayojit’s failed marriage. And as Jayojit walks the bustling streets of Calcutta, he finds himself not only caught between clashing memories of India and America, but also between different versions of his life, revisiting lost opportunity, realized potential, and lingering desire.
As he did in his acclaimed trilogy Freedom Song, Amit Chaudhuri lovingly captures life’s every detail on the page while infusing the quiet interactions of daily existence with depth and compassion.
As he did in his acclaimed trilogy Freedom Song, Amit Chaudhuri lovingly captures life’s every detail on the page while infusing the quiet interactions of daily existence with depth and compassion.
208 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2000
11 people are currently reading
285 people want to read
About the author
Amit Chaudhuri
60 books175 followersAmit Chaudhuri was born in Calcutta in 1962, and grew up in Bombay. He read English at University College, London, where he took his BA with First Class Honours, and completed his doctorate on critical theory and the poetry of D.H. Lawrence at Balliol College, Oxford, where he was a Dervorguilla Scholar. He was Creative Arts Fellow at Wolfson College, Oxford, from 1992-95, and Leverhulme Special Research Fellow at the Faculty of English, Cambridge University, until April 1999, where he taught the Commonwealth and International Literatures paper of the English Tripos. He was on the faculty of the School of the Arts, Columbia University, for the Fall semester, 2002. He was appointed Samuel Fischer Guest Professor of Literature at Free University, Berlin, for the winter term 2005.
He is now Professor in Contemporary Literature at the University of East Anglia. He was made Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature in 2009.
He is now Professor in Contemporary Literature at the University of East Anglia. He was made Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature in 2009.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 39 reviews
May 16, 2011
A book that is perhaps as challenging to review - and by review I mean judge - as it was to write. Chaudhari's restraint is stifling at times; his minimalist narrator divulges little; and the reader, while understanding the rationale of the repose of the novel, invariably ends up asking for a little let-go. But apart from the fettering of the narrator, there is something more structural that one may also decipher and unequivocally cede to the writer: the dexterity of design inherent in the inception of this novel. 'A New World', if one looks finely, is a feat of literature, really - one that will not blow you away, but tend to you with sleep-inducing, sultry caresses - like the pre-monsoon weather of the city of Calcutta that it so obliquely yet aptly describes.
Chaudhary reads like a mixture of Joyce and Woolf and, a tad bemusingly, Naipaul. The details, as in the consciousness of Jayojit Chaterjee - the divorcee from America who is spending a vacation at his parents' house in Calcutta with his son, vacation-rights with whom he has recently won in a court battle with his deviant wife - are the meat of the novel. His somnambulant views of the irrelevant and unimportant happening and meetings and objects are pretty much all there is to this book. But there is a blended hint of post-colonialism, of East meets West, of the complexity of filial obligations. And like an undercurrent below all of that, there is the paricular treatment of the content with a linguistic certainty that faintly resembles the wand of the great 19th century novelists - more specifically, their twentieth century embodiment in Naipaul. Chaudhary, while invoking memories of many masters of yore, adroitly avoids getting clubbed with any one in particular. His voice is original, and his subjects, as uninteresting as they are; and his plots, as sub-plot like as they are; are nevertheless a direction for the novel that is - quite surprisingly by the end of the book - very novel indeed. 'A New World' ails from a fuzzy ineptitude in realistically chanelling the content of conversations, but even that passes along, for Chaudhary convinces you with his abstruse development of characters to such degrees, that after a time you understand and accept the fact that his characters - bound by relations of blood as they are - have nothing to say to each other, except sharing the banalities of every day life. In this way, even the deficiencies in Chaudhary's writing seem to work in his favour, which is predominantly due to the choice of plot and setting. There is realism here, but it is a somnambulist realism, which serves the purpose of justifying most of what Chaudhari does in this book.
Many reviewers have blamed Chaudhary of giving us nothing in his novels. But Chaudhary's work, as one intelligent reviewer noted, is not the stuff of novels, but of what might happen between novels. By doing so, it fills a space in modern literature, and questions, knowingly or unknowingly, the Jamesian notion of the 'interesting' requirement being imposed on this art form. A novel - if a definition was to be winnowed from Chaudhari - can be a celebration of language; can be a somnolescent drifting away of life, captured in words; can be an evasion from the heart-wrenching emotions that surround its characters. A novel, certainly, can also be defined by what it is not. And for sensitizing us to this interpretation, Chaudhari deserves an emphatic thumbs-up.
Chaudhary reads like a mixture of Joyce and Woolf and, a tad bemusingly, Naipaul. The details, as in the consciousness of Jayojit Chaterjee - the divorcee from America who is spending a vacation at his parents' house in Calcutta with his son, vacation-rights with whom he has recently won in a court battle with his deviant wife - are the meat of the novel. His somnambulant views of the irrelevant and unimportant happening and meetings and objects are pretty much all there is to this book. But there is a blended hint of post-colonialism, of East meets West, of the complexity of filial obligations. And like an undercurrent below all of that, there is the paricular treatment of the content with a linguistic certainty that faintly resembles the wand of the great 19th century novelists - more specifically, their twentieth century embodiment in Naipaul. Chaudhary, while invoking memories of many masters of yore, adroitly avoids getting clubbed with any one in particular. His voice is original, and his subjects, as uninteresting as they are; and his plots, as sub-plot like as they are; are nevertheless a direction for the novel that is - quite surprisingly by the end of the book - very novel indeed. 'A New World' ails from a fuzzy ineptitude in realistically chanelling the content of conversations, but even that passes along, for Chaudhary convinces you with his abstruse development of characters to such degrees, that after a time you understand and accept the fact that his characters - bound by relations of blood as they are - have nothing to say to each other, except sharing the banalities of every day life. In this way, even the deficiencies in Chaudhary's writing seem to work in his favour, which is predominantly due to the choice of plot and setting. There is realism here, but it is a somnambulist realism, which serves the purpose of justifying most of what Chaudhari does in this book.
Many reviewers have blamed Chaudhary of giving us nothing in his novels. But Chaudhary's work, as one intelligent reviewer noted, is not the stuff of novels, but of what might happen between novels. By doing so, it fills a space in modern literature, and questions, knowingly or unknowingly, the Jamesian notion of the 'interesting' requirement being imposed on this art form. A novel - if a definition was to be winnowed from Chaudhari - can be a celebration of language; can be a somnolescent drifting away of life, captured in words; can be an evasion from the heart-wrenching emotions that surround its characters. A novel, certainly, can also be defined by what it is not. And for sensitizing us to this interpretation, Chaudhari deserves an emphatic thumbs-up.
August 4, 2013
Sorry, this book just did not work for me...though the author's voice was lucid, the book meanders into nothing.....thoroughly disappointed. I am not one to put too much emphasis on plot points in a tale. Character development and a sense of connect with the reader is of vital importance though. I have LOVED books where pretty much nothing happens, which is a true reflection of the daily mundane life...where pretty much nothing happens. But the beauty lies in the details, which was completely missing here...an insightful look into the main character's psyche during this phase of transitioning in his life would have made for a compelling read, but the author seems content with a mere gaze. The book droned on and on and in the end I was left with, well, nothing:(
September 23, 2013
Did not work for me one bit. Tried my best to find something I could appreciate in the 200 pages but no, I did not see the point in anything at all.
This being the author's first book I read, it wasn't a happy initiation. The book meanders around details and does not tie them to any meaning; it was like going on a road trip inside your own house.
I think I understand what Chaudhuri was trying to do here - a portrait of Bengali family life sounds like something I want to read, but the unconvincing speech and dialogues, the needless emphasis on food, digestion & related troubles (no clue why the author goes on about this) & the absolutely characterless protagonist, all of them made for a pretty listless Sunday read.
Very disappointing.
This being the author's first book I read, it wasn't a happy initiation. The book meanders around details and does not tie them to any meaning; it was like going on a road trip inside your own house.
I think I understand what Chaudhuri was trying to do here - a portrait of Bengali family life sounds like something I want to read, but the unconvincing speech and dialogues, the needless emphasis on food, digestion & related troubles (no clue why the author goes on about this) & the absolutely characterless protagonist, all of them made for a pretty listless Sunday read.
Very disappointing.
September 9, 2018
Amit Chaudhuri's 'A New World' is one of the dullest books I've read in a long time. It tells of Jayojit, a divorced NRI spending a couple of months with his son visiting his elderly parents in Kolkata. Jayojit is returning to his old world - India - not as the successful American academic he is but rather as a shamed divorced man who's not really sure where he fits any more.
It is very slow moving and almost nothing happens. There are plenty of opportunities for him to bond with his son or with his parents but few are taken.
I suspect I may have read this book already when it first came out. I might even have reviewed it at that time, but I remember nothing about it from the first read and I doubt I'm going to remember anything in a week's time from my re-read.
It is very slow moving and almost nothing happens. There are plenty of opportunities for him to bond with his son or with his parents but few are taken.
I suspect I may have read this book already when it first came out. I might even have reviewed it at that time, but I remember nothing about it from the first read and I doubt I'm going to remember anything in a week's time from my re-read.
August 15, 2015
The unbelievably beautiful Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie said this book is "Unbelievably beautiful". I'd have to be unbelievably unintelligent to not take her word for it. I was taught by Mr Chaudhuri for a week last month, but most of what I learned from him about writing is by reading him.
March 4, 2014
Not everyone can capture the slice of Calcutta so well. The narrative is intense, choice of words simple yet sharp, making the characters lively. It also has a surprising pace, which makes the book addictive, almost irresistible. Consequently, this book can’t be put away unfinished, easily.
The story has a stickiness too, an immediacy of loss, or acceptance, that is central to all our lives, regardless of race, religion, or the part of the world we inhabit—and contrary to what stickiness might conjure—in storytelling, it is one of the difficult aspects to develop, in a way of defining the boundary for the readers to remain not just content, but identify with. This stickiness, to my mind, and experience, elongated my pleasure of experiencing this story.
Jiyojit Chatterjee, a professor of Economics in the US, is on a visit to Kolkata to meet his father, a retired Admiral, and his mother. Jiyojit has been divorced for an year—his wife has the custody of their seven year old son, Bonny—and is suspended in the present where his world is contained by his son, his father and mother, and a Kolkata that he is too cynical to explore or appreciate. Told with an uncanny tenderness, the story traces Jiyojit’s tryst with a truth he can’t put behind easily. His sense of dislocation echoes his deepest uncertainties and fragile assumptions of a future he isn't yet prepared to think about.
Overall, brilliant. The complex interplay of words and punctuation add an unparalleled depth to a story well told. Enjoyed thoroughly. Highly recommended.
The story has a stickiness too, an immediacy of loss, or acceptance, that is central to all our lives, regardless of race, religion, or the part of the world we inhabit—and contrary to what stickiness might conjure—in storytelling, it is one of the difficult aspects to develop, in a way of defining the boundary for the readers to remain not just content, but identify with. This stickiness, to my mind, and experience, elongated my pleasure of experiencing this story.
Jiyojit Chatterjee, a professor of Economics in the US, is on a visit to Kolkata to meet his father, a retired Admiral, and his mother. Jiyojit has been divorced for an year—his wife has the custody of their seven year old son, Bonny—and is suspended in the present where his world is contained by his son, his father and mother, and a Kolkata that he is too cynical to explore or appreciate. Told with an uncanny tenderness, the story traces Jiyojit’s tryst with a truth he can’t put behind easily. His sense of dislocation echoes his deepest uncertainties and fragile assumptions of a future he isn't yet prepared to think about.
Overall, brilliant. The complex interplay of words and punctuation add an unparalleled depth to a story well told. Enjoyed thoroughly. Highly recommended.
February 8, 2015
It is so boring book. It seems that there is no such story! Joyjeet and his son came to calcutta and then the story seems to be detained in a small flat house of Joy's parents. Even the descriptions of the housing complex and the out side calcutta lanes devoid any thing new. Almost half of the book lacks any story.
I wonder how Amit Chowdhury became a writer of so called 'International repute'!!!
I wonder how Amit Chowdhury became a writer of so called 'International repute'!!!
August 4, 2023
Jayojit Chatterjee has been divorced a little over a year ago. He returns to Calcutta with his seven year old son for a two month vacation, staying in his parent's apartment. As his wife normally has custody of his son, we are expecting to read a story about Javojit's new life as a single man and his relationship with his son, whom he "wanted to spend as much time as possible with".
A New World appears to be a book where nothing happens. His parents follow the same routine every day, Jayjit spends most of the time sleeping, eating and reading the newspaper. There is very little interaction between Javojit and his son Bonny, who spends most of his time quietly playing by himself, with his toys.
A New World appears to be a book where nothing happens. His parents follow the same routine every day, Jayjit spends most of the time sleeping, eating and reading the newspaper. There is very little interaction between Javojit and his son Bonny, who spends most of his time quietly playing by himself, with his toys.
December 20, 2023
A quiet, pensive, and deeply internalized novel about moving on. It is a haunting but detached novel, with the details of life that "hold back." But life goes on, sometimes inconspicuously.
November 5, 2023
A lot of reviewers didn't "get it". There were quite a few one star reviews or people saying nothing happens or they got bored or stopped reading. However, I was not one of them.
The feat of this novel is what the Guardian describes as its "compulsive narrative" generated from "near-total eventlessness". In other words, those readers who said nothing happens were right, but it is quite an accomplishment for a book to be readable when nothing happens! You almost need to accept that nothing is going to happen and that will allow you to focus on the prose itself, the mood it is generating, the characters it is depicting.
In the vast majority of people's lives, nothing much happens for 99% of the time.
Stylistically, I have never seen such use of the comma. Will try to find a couple of examples.
The feat of this novel is what the Guardian describes as its "compulsive narrative" generated from "near-total eventlessness". In other words, those readers who said nothing happens were right, but it is quite an accomplishment for a book to be readable when nothing happens! You almost need to accept that nothing is going to happen and that will allow you to focus on the prose itself, the mood it is generating, the characters it is depicting.
In the vast majority of people's lives, nothing much happens for 99% of the time.
Stylistically, I have never seen such use of the comma. Will try to find a couple of examples.
June 17, 2013
Jayojit Chatterjee arrives in Calcutta on holiday with his seven year old son Bonny after a divorce. He stays with his parents, a retired Admiral and a housewife. Thus ensues two months of bonding between mother and son, mother and grandson, father and grandson etc. The thing to be treasured in this book is Chaudhuri’s delicately nuanced descriptions of dislocation and the disorientation that comes with the adoption of a new (Western) nation while still held by memories set in another India. As the loud traffic and busy streets of dense, urban Calcutta form the backdrop to the two month stint of father and son what really unfolds is the emotional life of these four protagonists.
I recommend reading this book in one go – I read it over four days myself. The author employs a simple, pleasurable style that kept me turning the pages with interest.
I recommend reading this book in one go – I read it over four days myself. The author employs a simple, pleasurable style that kept me turning the pages with interest.
January 31, 2019
Not a bad little book. It’s scarcely your standard novel, or even novella (it’s only 200 pages), but it evokes life in an Indian city quite well.
If I sound unconvinced, it’s because I am at many levels. I’ve never read a book with such a thin plot. Lecturer of Indian origin returns home to Calcutta with his son to spend the summer with his parents, lecturer goes back to America at the end of it. That really is about it. The characterisation is pretty shallow, and the central character’s personality barely peeps through. Son Bonny remains a ghostly shadow throughout. In fact, only his father, the Admiral, is painted in anything like any detail.
But with one passing reservation, the prose really isn’t bad. He piles detail upon detail of what life in urban India is like – my reservation is that he takes this almost too far, the text sometimes feels like a long inventory of Indianness and not much more. And very occasionally he stumbles – would the Admiral really object to owning a fridge if he already owned air-conditioning for example? – but all the same, the delicate life sketch that he builds up, layer by layer, has a genuine enough feel to it. And it’s not quite true to say that he offers no plot: in a very gentle way he touches on a few quite deep themes: divorce and its aftermath, the sense of not-quite-belonging-anywhere of expatriates, the pain of separation from one’s own – though I have to add that these themes were so gentle as to be almost invisible at times. Still, a pleasant read.
If I sound unconvinced, it’s because I am at many levels. I’ve never read a book with such a thin plot. Lecturer of Indian origin returns home to Calcutta with his son to spend the summer with his parents, lecturer goes back to America at the end of it. That really is about it. The characterisation is pretty shallow, and the central character’s personality barely peeps through. Son Bonny remains a ghostly shadow throughout. In fact, only his father, the Admiral, is painted in anything like any detail.
But with one passing reservation, the prose really isn’t bad. He piles detail upon detail of what life in urban India is like – my reservation is that he takes this almost too far, the text sometimes feels like a long inventory of Indianness and not much more. And very occasionally he stumbles – would the Admiral really object to owning a fridge if he already owned air-conditioning for example? – but all the same, the delicate life sketch that he builds up, layer by layer, has a genuine enough feel to it. And it’s not quite true to say that he offers no plot: in a very gentle way he touches on a few quite deep themes: divorce and its aftermath, the sense of not-quite-belonging-anywhere of expatriates, the pain of separation from one’s own – though I have to add that these themes were so gentle as to be almost invisible at times. Still, a pleasant read.
November 24, 2018
It's a typical Amit Chaudhuri book in which nothing seems to happen and yet everything does and you cannot wait for the story to move forward. There's a lot of food being discussed in the book - gur, luchis, fish, daal, sandesh, slivers of pumpkin and potatoes fried with onions and black jeera, parshe, lightly buttered toast, kissan marmalade freckled with orange rind.
Some lovely lines that stayed with me:
Who can tell the exact changes that take place in people, which are possibly unknown to themselves? Till they die, people keep trying to innocently adjust to life.
This country had a way of, in the end, concealing disparity and banishing the past.
He felt not so much a sense of deja vu as one of ironic, qualified continuity.
It wasn't always one had the opportunity to watch a vision, however ordinary, take shape.
The ease of modern travel, which lulled people into believing that journeys closest to them could be postponed.
The old Bengali romance for arcane, often useless bits of information.
Some lovely lines that stayed with me:
Who can tell the exact changes that take place in people, which are possibly unknown to themselves? Till they die, people keep trying to innocently adjust to life.
This country had a way of, in the end, concealing disparity and banishing the past.
He felt not so much a sense of deja vu as one of ironic, qualified continuity.
It wasn't always one had the opportunity to watch a vision, however ordinary, take shape.
The ease of modern travel, which lulled people into believing that journeys closest to them could be postponed.
The old Bengali romance for arcane, often useless bits of information.
August 2, 2018
Didn't work for me. I looked forward to the afternoony, dilapidated imagery that is possible and expected of Calcutta, but the plot seemed to drag, offering no new insights to a tried-and-tested literary setting. I often expect complex characters when reading simpler plots, but this one lacked a sense of both. Even the characters seemed to drag. The passage where the narrator decides to stroll down Ballygunge, about halfway through the first half of the novel, could've been the starting point, and the story could be deeply condensed beyond that. With the divorced man and his son, I expected their relationship to take a turn through the father's keen observations, but it all seemed stalled in the third-person as I didn't know if I was hearing Jayojit or Amit Chaudhuri in the narration. In hindsight, a stagnated plot could've been the point, as Chimamanda Adichie says "I like to dip in and out a few pages at a time, letting the words nurture me", but I did not enjoy reading this book.
October 23, 2020
Having bought this book on a bookshop in Calcutta years ago when I spent a few weeks there trying to trace some history about my father’s deceased parents following his death I could picture and relate to Jayojit’s descriptions of life in Calcutta. The book engaged me and I empathised with all of the members of the family in their unfulfilled lives. I was waiting for something really dramatic to happen in the story. When it didn’t I wasn’t really disappointed but relieved that nothing bad happened to affect the lives of the characters. The story is very realistic and extremely well written. It’s the first book I’ve read by Amit Chaudhuri. I look forward to reading others.
September 20, 2025
This one is more of a documentary, detailing a break, a few months in the life of a father & son in Calcutta of the 90s. They are spending this time with the father’s parents whom they try to come & see every year from the US. Yes, nothing much happens by way of plot. Just a microscopic study of observations made by the father and the writer.
October 24, 2017
Lots of memories of Kolkata.
April 23, 2019
Slightly pointless, well-written but pointless. Meandering and slow, deeply atmospheric but that is pretty much all about it.
October 14, 2019
Unrivaled rubbish.
March 27, 2021
Some great descriptive language, but I struggled to stay interested.
July 13, 2021
such a drag
July 8, 2023
A bit slow ...
December 30, 2020
A sedate portrait of inter-generational relationships in a Bengali family.
Some reflection on development and change in India as well but nothing sensational.
Some reflection on development and change in India as well but nothing sensational.
October 6, 2013
Oh Calcutta! I go weak in my knees whenever I pick up a book on the dilapidating city of erstwhile grandeur. This Sahitya Akademi Award winner tells the story of a man living in USA, who after getting divorced comes to visit his parents in Calcutta and then goes back. Or goes to Calcutta and comes back. And nothing major happens in between this coming and going. But what we are shown is an understated and subtle vision of a small Bengali family. Chaudhuri's charm is in the depiction of daily chores of a middle-class family, be it in the arguments over buying a washing machine or in the society meetings. My best sequence comes towards the end when the main character prepares to leave Calcutta. So simple, yet so moving!
However, I was disappointed by two things. First, the dialogues many times feel artificial. It becomes evident that someone else is putting words in the mouths of characters. Second, I expected some major event to happen somewhere in the narration. But Chaudhuri deliberately maintains a sublime low-tone throughout, which in a way is the strength of the novel.
Not recommended for those who want a dynamic and strong story but strongly recommended for those who want a laid back narration that explores the characters like one would in real life - slowly, but never completely.
However, I was disappointed by two things. First, the dialogues many times feel artificial. It becomes evident that someone else is putting words in the mouths of characters. Second, I expected some major event to happen somewhere in the narration. But Chaudhuri deliberately maintains a sublime low-tone throughout, which in a way is the strength of the novel.
Not recommended for those who want a dynamic and strong story but strongly recommended for those who want a laid back narration that explores the characters like one would in real life - slowly, but never completely.
February 13, 2017
I can't believe I spent this much time reading it .... almost a month ... one simple word to describe it "boring"... and I'll keep it here
November 25, 2008
Chaudhuri deftly portrays new worlds converging as a family rebuilds itselfand Calcutta gingerly enters globalization. With his tight prose andcinematic approach to writing, Chaudhuri depicts three generations of theChatterjee family grappling with the aftermath of divorce and adjustingto retirement. Jayojit, returning to India to heal the wounds of anacrimonious custody battle, dreamily plods through his vacation with hisson to visit his aging parents. Like the ex-wife left behind, the UnitedStates also serves as a character, providing contrasts to life inCalcutta's summer season. This book reads like a (long) short story withits distinct lack of action or character development, but Chaudhuri rendersa touching, if unexciting, portrait of a family in the throes of change.
March 15, 2016
One of the most disappointing books I read in 2015. This book is very slow and did not make me emotional or happy. I kept waiting for something to happen. The characters were dull. They made a young boy sound dull too when he should have been such a nice character to portray bustling with life during his visit to India. Kolkata is a beautiful city with the mix of colonial and post colonial architecture and streets, with lots of people. I was disappointed with Kolkata's description too.
April 10, 2009
Minimal descriptions with powerful eye for detail. Tells the story of a recently divorced father and his son traveling to India for the summer to stay with his parents. The divorce was a crushing blow for all and much of the story (and the writing) largely relies on the tension of what is left unsaid.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 39 reviews