Thursday, March 21, 2013


This is the book for you if you do not like action, if you enjoy pages and pages of the protagonist’s introspection, if you enjoy a warped view of the “natives”, if you enjoyed Kipling and Maugham

In short, The Godfather of Kathmandu is yet another product of a writer who has obviously attended classes of some sort on How to Write Novels, who believes in his 1000 words per day regime.

Charming at first, in a caricaturist way, the novel begins to pall when page after page plods painfully through what looks like a Lobsang Rampa bizarro world.
Initially, the reading conjured shades of an Oxide Pang movie: the greenish hue, the odd shred of horror thrown in…

And here and there, there is, admittedly, something of some small worth: a description of a mall rings quite genuine, for example.

But, mostly, a book to give the miss! Or to a Miss? The Missus? 
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