Fiction, 2019
Life has been so overstimulating lately. Everything is too much, and it happens too often. Sometimes I think I pride myself on stretching myself as thin as possible just because if I don’t do it all, something catastrophic will happen. My reasons for going to therapy aside, this book has the power to slow one down. The pace is so sultry that it leisurely walks. You could gulp it in a day, but you could also stretch it across two weeks like I did, treating it like dark chocolate that can only be consumed in small squares.
The novel I recommend to you today has two names. Originally published in India as Girl in White Cotton, it was rebranded to sell internationally as Burnt Sugar. I will confess: I hate the first name (no intrigue, boring cover, so bland that I’ve immediately forgotten it) and love the second name (oh yes, play with my senses!) Burnt Sugar signifies the sickeningly overpowering, sticky, and heavy dynamic between the novel’s two main characters: Antara, an artist living in Pune, and her mother, Tara. We know from the opening line that the relationship between the two is fraught: “I would be lying if I said my mother’s misery has never given me pleasure.”
As Tara begins to lose her memory, Antara grapples with caring for (and still resenting) a woman who no longer remembers the pain she has caused. The tension is heightened by Antara’s husband and his mother, who seem to care for Tara with such innocent pity, unaware of any hostility. What follows is a deep dive into the plaque formation of Alzheimer’s, an art project that inspires arson, and the slow yet painful act of remembering. Please don’t let the fact that Elizabeth Gilbert has blurbed it discourage you from buying or borrowing a copy.
Song - Cinnamon Girl
Film - Water AND The Father
Note from me: So we celebrated one year together recently, and almost to the exact day, I wrote for the Asian Review of Books! I covered Mridula Garg’s Chittacobra for them and had so much fun doing it. I am not technically saying anything yet, but keep your eyes peeled for another one soon, perhaps.