Regency Buck by Georgette Heyer
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I recently re-read this book and loved it more than i remembered hence came to goodreads to put in a review and I was shocked to see all the other reviews that spoke at length about how much they hated Lord Worth. I kept wanting to jump in with 'But he didn't's and 'But he wasn't's so here is a review of my own.

In defence of Lord Worth

• He lived 200 years ago! Let us make some allowance for the difference in manners and mores. Even Lord Peter Wimsey (who must surely be granted undisputed heartthrob status) behaved in a forward manner with the wives of his tenants - or nearly did anyway. There was a portion in Clouds of Witness that says as much. So while the Earl was definitely out of line during the whole 'Clorinda' episode, let us cut him some slack and look the other way for now, shall we?
• Since I was re-reading the book and knew all along who the bad guy was, I was able to appreciate his restraint, his efforts in looking out for his wards,and his wisdom in pushing through unpopular decisions when they were for the ultimate good. The choice of house in Brighton, the chosen chaperone, the hiring of servants all must have taken thought and effort for Worth for which he was not appreciated.
• He did not berate her for nearly being molested by the Prince Regent. He got her out of an ugly situation with gentleness and understanding combined with enough social sense to prevent her name being dragged into a scandal. That is the one thing I love about Heyer. How she dexterously rescues her characters from unpleasant situations without making a scene. Look at how she handled the abduction in The Black Moth! Really, i re-read this scene. Nowhere was he less than concerned and kind towards her without making his deeper feelings obvious (that would have been highly mistimed)
• Am starting to run out of steam a bit now, but regarding the whole bit about being patronizing in not telling Judith the whole, would she have believed him? With all her prejudice against him, i think not.

But having got the prejudice bit in - did anyone else think this book was kind of a pride and prejudice lite? She even throws in some Jane Austen references! I kept being reminded of that book which is one of my favorites!

While regency buck is certainly no timeless classic, it worked for me as a rom-com in a book with a reasonably interesting mystery thrown in. What's not to like? Oh and I rest my case!

View all my reviews

The Help

It did not surprise me a whole lot to find a lot of cribs about this book on goodreads. The real mystery for me was how it ended up being a bestseller! I did not really have a lot of issues with the factual inaccuracies and so on because I am Indian and my knowledge of the civil rights movement/southern culture/local dialects is quite limited. Also, having grown up on a diet of Bollywood movies, being real and correct are not mandatory to my appreciation of anything. You could take pretty much any topic, douse it in melodrama and stir up a rabble rouser which would entertain me greatly. Oh and I'd buy all of it. But there is a cardinal rule to that sort of thing. You can't be boring. And Stockett is! When I'd finished the book I actually stopped and wondered what was in all those pages! Did this book have an editor? Pretty much the only portions that worked for me were those involving Aibileen and Mae Mobley. I felt like rushing off to the crib to wake up my own two year old and hug him! i held back, thank God! He's not at his most friendly when woken up and hugged but coming back - those bits sprang off the pages and came to life. The rest was a very forgettable mess.

From Kings Cliff

I first went to King's Cliff some six years back. I took one look at the moss-covered trees, the white colonial bungalow, the profusion of flowers and the steep craggy cliffs that form the backdrop of the place and was (in the words of my young son's favourite airman) hooked, cleaned and fried!

It was perfect. All of it. From the liveried staff with their clinking cutlery to the wood paneled smoking room, the rose patterned upholstery and the old fashioned fireplaces. Everything belonged to a different time and place altogether. You could practically picture Jane Marple sitting at those windows, needles at the go, keeping a sharp eye on weeds and widows alike. Or of course you could imagine you yourself were a memsahib, if you please, watching over all Ooty from those giddy heights. Retiring to the drawing room when the evenings became uncomfortably cold. Warming yourself at the fireplace while listening to jazz (or whatever those memsahibs listened to) on the gramophone.

Too delicious!

I kept going back of course. It was the best quick fix to the humdrum of daily Bangalore grime. A getaway from work, home, weekday, city, century, country what have you! After five visits and then a looong break to have and raise a baby to traveling stage, I was back!

To a bit of a shock.

Which was silly of course! What place would not change in three years time? It was simply that kings cliff had seemed timeless (sigh). Anyway the lawn now hosted a glass house with a restaurant and dance floor! The staff were all gone, replaced by much more up to date hotel management types. The food, to be (grudgingly) honest, was much better. But the bathrooms had been redone with tiny tiny shower cubicles that were all metallic and modern and completely unusable.

Of course Ooty itself was a revelation. Strictly plastic free, pedestrian friendly, wide pavements to walk on, lots of nonsensical touristy stuff to buy and charm in shovelfuls. It had actually become the kind of place India could market as a big time small holiday destination. Not so much incredible india as incredible it's in india. But coming back to Kings cliff...

On coming back from our ramble around town we realized that having in our ignorance, omitted to pre-book the smoking room (our erstwhile favourite hang out) we had lost out to a bunch of johnny come latelys who had taken the place over with the result that we had to settle for second best - the drawing room. Giving in with slightly bad grace, we shut the doors and started a game of dumb charades. At regular intervals, various savory soups and snacks kept coming in to help us keep the energy levels up. This is the best part about this place. They always strive hard to create the illusion that you are at home. Not your own home, no! Not a place where you might have to cook your own food or make your own bed. But a fictitious make believe home. Where you have an army of servants (giggling housemaids to stately pretend butler) waiting on you hand and foot. And they still get all of that right!

We descended from the heights the next day and spent most of our time wandering around various little stores selling overpriced nonsense and looking into the english meets tamil church. A quick trip to dolphin's nose in coonoor was followed by lunch at 'kluney manor' - copycat kings cliff with bigger and better rooms but lesser charm, atmosphere and green.

And then it was time to head back!

Short holiday wound quickly to a close. Would I go back? Well the prices have tripled and the charm's getting a bit rusty but when I turn around on my way back the mossy trees seem to call out and call back.

The Documents in the Case

The Documents in the Case by Dorothy L. Sayers

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
The plot of this book is so smart that it actually figured as a problem in one of my organic chemistry textbooks in college! One of those musty dusty tomes but still!!!



The brilliance of the science aside, it is truly an excellent book! Dorothy Sayers is a master at creating three dimensional characters that live and breathe. The book is written in an epistolary format and most incidents come across from two or more points of view, each so consistent and complete by itself that that alone would be reason enough to read this book. How does she get the characters, their voice, what they say and think and feel so right every time?



You can see what's coming from the start of course but that will in no way impair your enjoyment of the book, at least not unless you are looking for nothing more or less than a whodunit. Like all of Dorothy Sayers' novels, this is a book that does not see why it shouldn't be a 'real book' (in Lord Peter Wimsey's words) just because it is a mystery novel.

Great read.


View all my reviews.

Almost Single

Almost Single by Advaita Kala

My review

rating: 2 of 5 stars
It's a book about a single woman in the city. She hangs out with her friends - one beautiful but married to a jerk, another gay, another single with lots of bright ideas on how not to be single. She spends a lot of her time getting drunk, smokes a lot of cigarettes and struggles with her weight. And her name is not Bridget Jones!!!



Hard to take this book seriously. It's bridget minus the charm and the humour. Aisha Bhatia is not particularly likable. Karan whatsisname similarly so. I haven't lived in Delhi for sometime now but I find it hard to digest that people like Nic and Ric do.



It finds some soul towards the end but too little too late. I'd rather read Zoya again.


View all my reviews.

the zoya factor

The Zoya Factor by Anuja Chauhan

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
The best thing about Zoya is that it is not just 'an english book by an indian' if you know what I mean. There is so much more story and people and India than in the 'I'm Indian, I live abroad, I'm confused' kind of book there has been so much of in the recent past.



Zoya is peopled with characters that are as believable as they are likable. Zoravar, Eppa, Rinku Chachi, Vishal, Monita even Sanks are people you would have or at least easily could have met somewhere.



It is laugh out loud funny in many places. I especially liked the crickindya website comments section. Anuja Chauhan certainly has an ear for dialogue!



Other pluses: Nikhil's a dish and the mushy stuff doesn't make you cringe (well mostly). The romantic is nicely tempered by the ridiculous. Big bonus - people from Delhi especially of Karol Bagh origin will LOVE how VERY Delhi this book is!



Only grouse... it is way too long! Better editing would have made such a difference.

With no literary pretensions whatsoever, Zoya is light weekend reading at its best.


View all my reviews.

More thoughts on Road Widening

I really did not want to post on this topic after last time's post which I thought said most of what I had to say, but I'm back. Here's why.

With the new govt. firmly in the saddle, orders are out to finish all road widening in the coming six months. One gone five to go. That's how long our trees have, folks! Already in Koramangala we are seeing huge, stately old trees being mercilessly butchered to make way for wider roads. Worse than that, people like it! People you would expect to think differently! But lets not talk of that.

Not even talking now about the 40000 people on Avenue road (that has the misfortune of being in the way of a proposed six lane highway) who are going to lose their livelihoods for a road.

Nor am I talking of the eighteen villagers who died trying to cross the 30 kilometer road to the aiport that has only 4 traffic lights and no pedestrian underpasses. Over bridges cannot be constructed on a national highway as per NHAI rules. So the villagers must risk their lives daily so we can make that flight on time. Not talking about that though.

What I am talking about is the rising incidence of asthma and bronchitis among children. In the last 15 years, the percentage of kids with bronchitis and asthma has gone up from 8 to a whopping 40%! The incidence is higher among kids living in areas with less trees and greater vehicular population.

The writing's on the wall.

We may not care about trees. We may not care about about poor shopkeepers losing their source of income. We might not spare a thought to the poor villager by the side of the road.
But have we really fallen to such a moral abyss that we don't care about our children? Is our convenience on the road so important that we don't see that of the four kids out of every ten that can't go out to play because they have bronchitis, one could be ours?

I always thought with parents it was different. That it had to be personal. But in a world where a parent does not care for a child, the human race must be considered past redemption.