Romesh Gunesekera

Brilliant. A first novel and a Booker finalist. Writing that captivates. Gunesekera is, to my mind, an absolute master of those moments in life that are fleeting and indescribable; of a moment between two people. Of the evanescent, as I wrote above. I cannot think of anyone I have ever read who does it better. There is an exquisiteness, a tenderness, a stunning beauty to his images. Ostensibly the story of a houseboy in Sri Lanka, it becomes the story of two lives inextricably woven into the tragedy of the civil war in that country. As with Sandglass, above, it is a deep, unforgettable reflection on the passage of time, chances taken and chances lost, on identity, and of exile. Just stunning.… (mer)

Short stories from an expat Sri Lankan who I enjoy generally quite a bit. He’s written close to a dozen books and I’ll admit that I have found a clunker or two among them, but when he hits it, he writes wonderfully. These stories have a thread in common: they all share a narrator taking people (generally foreigners) to different parts of the island. The narrator tends to see things that one might expect to be familiar through new eyes—the eyes of those he is accompanying. The commentary is thus about both the visitors and the narrator and, inevitably, the island. Gunesekera has always been concerned about the price of the civil war; this volume is no different and he always manages to find a poignancy, a deep hurt that he expresses more by omission than anything else. Recommended.… (mer)