Calcutta Chromosome: A Novel of Fevers, Delirium and Discovery (Paperback)

Having said that I found this in the end an unsatisfying book. It was
a book of many things, science fiction, a medical history of malaria,
and a spiritual explanation of transmigration of the soul. I found it
a bit slow in starting up, once going my interest was peaked regarding
the mystery of the discovery of malaria and the hidden truth behind it,
however my main disappointment was that the resolution to the mystery
and the ending itself were poorly wrought. Barely even explained, unclearly
described I was left scratching my head with a "huh?" </p>

I don't know if I would recommend this book, I would state the caveats
and let you make your own choice.</p>

He writes very well ,he has a delicious sense of humour especially Murugan (call me Morgan) but although I understand the premise the end totally stumped me.I just cannot understand why he would end the book the way he did .

I can accept some of the chromosome theory he tried to explain and the extraordinary coincidences with Lutchman and all that but why he chose to end it so weak is why I give it two stars.

However, for all the blurb evocations, this is no Borges, nor Pynchon. I see why the comparisons were drawn, but there are some major plot and even ... call them philosophical... flaws that drag The Calcutta Chromosome back from a really good book to a fun read on the 'plane.

Basically, there is a vast and bizarre conspiracy, which, while entertaining, is founded on mushy, ill thought-out motives. There is an attempt to evoke an east/west - mysticism/logic thing, but it collapses under its own inconsistencies to reveal a balding plot device wearing a toupee of picturesque Oriental mystics.

Finally, there is quite a bit of pseudo-scientific and technological hand waving. This will bother some more than others. The point that technology can be like magic is relevant, and in places I can forgive the more nonsensical bits as contributing to a good story. There are other incidents, particularly the absurdly retrieved e-mail, which could have been tied into other themes in the story but weren't. Instead, I was left with the impression that Ghosh wrote himself into a bit of a corner and couldn't be bothered to take some more plausible method of getting himself out.

Sit back, fit together the edge pieces of the jigsaw puzzle, admire the pretty picture, and try not to be disappointed if you find a few of the middle pieces missing.