Blahrb

-Siddick's is a fresh new voice in Indian fiction that begs hearing in today's world of corruption, communal violence, world peace, bad movies and cheap alcohol. He may not only be the least important author of his generation but has also turned out a masterpiece that is perhaps best described by those who made the mistake of reading it.
-This book is a race-horse-power-packed-non-stop-pace-maker triumph. It is dark and chilling (where I live) but that's only because there's a power-cut in my house. Vintage Siddick.
- Pick this novel up on a lazy summer afternoon and lose yourself in sleep. This one's a page-turner and you will regret being born mid-way through the 890 pages.
- This is an important book. It covers the difficult terrain of balderdash that other writers ignore, with the admirable clumsiness and a general disdain for the reader's intellect that has now come to characterise most of Siddick's work.
- The book appears, deceptively so, to be an epic saga covering several generations to the undiscerning reader but it operates on many levels and raises some fundamental questions about buying the book.
- Siddick is almost deliberately plain in his phrasing. Yet his book has that ineffable lyrical quality to it and a couple of sentences rhyme awkwardly. An absolute piece de resistance, a novel non pareil, a rare achievemento, a novel without raison-d-etre.
- A surprisingly poignant and pithy tale. This is a writer at the depth of his craft.