Swami, the son of a lawyer (who is the epitome of Indian respectability), and a truly Indian boy, entertains the reader from beginning to end. He and his friends and their exploits delight one as much as those of Richmal Crompton's William. At the same time, Narayan touches a deeper chord by the happenings that play a small, yet crucial role in Swami's life in the tiny,yet typical Indian town, Malgudi.
Swami's grandmother, his friends - the brawny, not very bright but very trustworthy Mani, the pompous Rajam, son of the Superintendent of police - Swami's attempts at arithmetic (how much he must pay for so many mangoes) under the stern guidance of his father, who refuses to see the point (how could he calculate unless he knew if the mangoes were ripe or not?!), the Malgudi Cricket Club, Swami being served food by his mother, all capture the world of a little Indian boy at the time when India was demanding Independence, beautifully. Narayan's story brings to the foreground world that is really India, which seems to continue to this day, and to which all historical happenings are but backgrounds. The story, being seen from Swami's point of view, is delightfully candid, normal, healthy and funny. But it and don't miss any of Narayan's other books, they are pure delight for anyone who loves a good story.