As an asian with an Irish background, who also happens to be a Doctor it could be argued that I fit snugly into this books intended market.
The book examines the tangled lovelife of an upper middle class junior indian doctor (Padhman) newly arrived in Dublin.
He wastes no time in falling in love with a young houseman who also happens to be the eminent professor's daughter. There is of course the mandatory parental objection, cross cultural juxtaposition, a smattering of tragedy and a resolution of sorts. A bit like bollywood without the music!
This is a mildly amusing but deeply flawed first novel. Firstly the dialogue is written in that profoundly nauseating, prissy anglo indian style so beloved of Vikram Seth, Arundhati roy et al yet is so jarring and unconvincing if you really know how indians converse (still it perenially dupes the Booker judges so why not give it a try?)
The central protaganists are so two dimensional that to say they are innocuous is probably a bit strong. It is not even at all clear why they are mutually attracted to each other never mind why they should want to get married.
Padhmans extended snobbish family back in Madras again are just a collection of stereotypes with no quirkiness to make any of them stand out or evoke sympathy.
Mrs Chaudhury insists on interspersing the book with pointless, gratuitous, lingering descriptions of indian food. To be fair she describes food more skilfully than sex...
Still it is nice to have a novel which examines the much neglected Irish Indian experience and I suspect that a much stronger sequel will follow.
