Sunday 17 August 2014

Last Man IN THE TOWER by Aravind Adiga

INTRODUCTION: Even  since I read 'The white tiger' , I fell in love with the narrative style, humor, punches of Aravind adiga. And thus I garbed this book ,expecting it to deliver the same  amount of euphoria I had received from 'The white tiger'


JOT(from good reads); A tale of one man refusing to leave his home in the face of property development. Tower A is a relic from a co-operative housing society established in the 1950s. When a property developer offers to buy out the residents for eye-watering sums, the principled yet arrogant teacher is the only one to refuse the offer, determined not to surrender his sentimental attachment to his home and his right to live in it, in the name of greed. His neighbours gradually relinquish any similar qualms they might have and, in a typically blunt satirical premise take matters into their own hands, determined to seize their slice of the new Mumbai as it transforms from stinky slum to silvery skyscrapers at dizzying, almost gravity-defying speed.

AUTHOR: Aravind Adiga was born in 1974 in Madras (now called Chennai), and grew up in Mangalore in the south of India. He was educated at Columbia University in New York and Magdalen College, Oxford. His articles have appeared in publications such as the New Yorker, the Sunday Times, the Financial Times, and the Times of India. His first novel, The White Tiger, won the Man Booker Prize for fiction in 2008.

MY VIEW ON THE BOOK:  'last man in tower' as he named it  is just a concoction of words without a subtle string to them. There was no humor, mockery, satire ,punches in this book( his book the white tiger is full of them which lured me to read this book). While I was going through this book , I literally cussed him for his irritating narration. I did never expect him to deliver such a dumb, spirit less novel. I am totally disappointed in spite of being his fan since I read his novel 'The white tiger'

All together a laborious,lamenting,lethargic read.

This is the first book in my life, for which I was rueful to read it.

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