The White Tiger: Aravind Adiga

Whilst crying piteously over my broken Kindle and watching TV, a flash of white caught my eye under the television set. Curious, I had a look, and found this paperback tucked nonchalantly between an issue of Ok! from 2008 and a recent edition of the local phone guide – still wrapped in plastic, because seriously who uses those things anymore?

I pulled out the book and nearly didn’t read it because my previous housemate had shit, and I’m being nice here, absolute shit taste in books. I feared it might be one of her abandoned discoveries. But the back blurb seemed interesting, so I popped it in my bag and forgot about it for a week, until I found myself with four hours and nothing to do far from civilization or even a phone signal. There’s Australia for you.

So I sat down and read this book, in its entirety, in one go.

I should really invent my own clever rating system for things. Then I wouldn’t even have to write things, I could just assign a score of number of hamburgers or whatever to a book and then you would know how I felt about it.

Until then, though, you’ll have to put up with my red-wine hungover attempts at describing things.

So, Aravind Adiga a) has a cool name and b) wrote a pretty good book. It was like, clever and stuff. And was a really extremely fascinating glimpse into life in India, and the caste system, and corruption, which is all really interesting if a bit grim. It was also a really quick, easy read. It was like a tasty fluff book that you read on the beach and immediately forget about, except it dealt with interesting topics instead of the usual boring heartbreak-tragedy-shit.

I would say that if you came across this book in a used bookstore or a charity shop (or chilling out under your tv) definitely read it. I would pay money to read this book, although not a lot. Maybe like up to $8? Because at the end of the day, no matter how interesting it was, and how many topics it discussed, it felt a bit fluffy and glossy and overpolished, although it did get pretty gritty. Especially the dead body stuff. It did win a Man Booker prize as well, so that’s cool. Well done Adiga.


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