When the Jagadguru’s Biggest Disciple tags you, you have no choice but to respond. So here goes.
The vast majority of Indian writing in English is self-indulgent wankery. But a few gems come to mind.
A Suitable Boy. I started reading this almost two weeks after my parents bought it. Considering I was in Class VI at the time, my mum was sleisha horrified. I had gotten up to Chapter 6 by the end of the Diwali vacations, when my mum realised I was reading it and firmly forbade me to touch it until the next vacations came up. Winter vacations came about and for the first time in my life I stayed up all night reading until I fell asleep – going through almost a third of the book in a night. Then I read it again in Class X and a lot more nuance became apparent. Much fun. I haven’t found any of Vikram Seth’s books since then worthwhile – An Equal Music was good, but nothing extraordinary, and I still haven’t been able to get through Two Lives.
A Writer’s Nightmare. The collection of essays by R K Narayan, which I’ve always liked much more than the novels. Somehow, his style seems more suited to a five hundred word essay than a ten thousand word book. The essays on coffee and umbrellas are my favourites.
Does William Dalrymple count as an Indian author? He ought to. City of Djinns is far better than anything I’ve ever read by an Indian historian, and White Mughals had my head spinning and imagining how cool it would be if someone wrote alternate histories about the French winning at Chandernagore, or imperialism surviving into the twenty first century.
Conversely, a dude who’s ethnically Indian but culturally completely removed is Pico Iyer. Most of the travelogues are winsome, but The Lady and the Monk is awesome.
Writing in Indian languages? I didn’t really start reading until a year ago, and since then I haven’t kept at it. I’ve found Ponniyin Selvan as awesome as Ravages’ raveouts about it indicate, and that’s the English translation. As for Sarat Chandra Chatterjee and Premchand, I wrote about them when I started them.
What I’m really waiting for is not the Great Indian Novel (I think A Suitable Boy has already managed that), but an Indian writer who really really excels at nonfiction.