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5.0étoiles sur 5
Sex, drugs, rock and roll .., Mars 19 2002
Yet another winner from Hanif Kureishi as he delves deep into the world of drugs, music and adolescent confusion within the
world of a group of Asian college students. Taking the title from a Prince album, Kureishi explores the interrelations between a
working class Asian student heavily influenced by literature and his revolutionary, English lecturer with whom he begins an affair.This is counterbalanced by the threats of an uprising amongst his fellow students who seek to defend themselves against the prejudice they see within neighbouring communities. In a titanic struggle, Shahid Hasan must choose between his friends and his lover, both of whom are cast in the revolutionary
lights yet in radically different ways. Just as in The Buddha of Suburbia, Kureishi's own literary and musical tastes are revealed
yet this also shows what can go wrong when one person takes it on themselves to embody the opinions of the majority. The
result sees the boundaries of class and identity become tragically blurred amongst a haze of pills, alcohol and teenage outrage. Once again Kureishi reinforces his position as one of the best non-British writers in British literature with a rollercoaster novel which moves between the deadly serious and wickedly funny, true genius.
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4.0étoiles sur 5
Buddha of Suburbia is a meal -- This is cold takeout curry, Déc 1 2000
But pretty tasty. Shahid is not as interesting as the hero in Buddha (forget his name) was. He's not as smart, doesn't have as much gusto to know and love and live in the world, he's not as daring, but he's good. Furthermore the supporting characters, unlike the father and the rock star from Buddha, are all caracatures, some of which intially show promise, like his neighbor, the leader of a fanatical Muslim group, who originally shows an understanding passionate ear to Shahid, but then all but disappears or becomes a complete mockery. He could have been better. If Shahid was looking for brotherhood and found something attractive in the group, it is never explored. He never seems to care, not care, agree, or disagree, and I don't know whether this was Kureishi's point, or if the book was just poorly written. His lover lacks depth, as does his brother. The drugdealer proves to be boring and not worth reading, and then finally, his family history, his place, is never explored. Nothing is resolved, its a sitcom-type of comedy, but it is often a fun read. The raves and the chases and the experiences are all quite easy and fun to read, but the story never takes off like Buddha. I guess it stays closer to home, its a little more realistic, but overall, the book is much weaker than Buddha of Suburbia.
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5.0étoiles sur 5
Polycult in the House (of Lit), Juil 16 2000
Funny, how much of the review I hear from folk, have been about the Indian, Pakistan, Islamic tinge on the book. Yea, it's good and stuff that he's writing about that, while much of the mainstream media still shows the myth of London in the 'Notting Hill' Film image (Damm, I use to squat there in the 80's, so I was never more than 5 minutes away from my Saltfish, Redstrip, Dub plates). But for me the strongest images are of the white folks in the book. I remember coming across SO MANY self proclaimed liberal lefties like Hanif covers in the book. Middle class English folk, who really want to make things better for us, colonials as long as they are in charge. This smug paternalistic attitude (gosh, the BBC just came to my mind) jumps out at you in funny funny incidents. In this novel, I reckon the 'anthropologists lense' (come on now, many do read his book to get an insider's glimse of a world they see a closed to them) is turned on the 'anthroplogists' themselves pretty well. This would explain why one of my friends reacted badly to it, ragging on about how she especially dislike 'that woman professor in the book' - For me, that female lecturer Hanif depicts was typical of my 'multiculti' friend.
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