Archive for February, 2008

The Genius Factory by David Plotz

Posted in David Plotz, Eugenics, Nobel Prize, Nonfiction, Repository for Germinal Choice, Sperm Banks, Who's yo daddy? on February 17, 2008 by Ishrath Farhana

Robert Klark Graham invented shatterproof eyeglass lenses and got rich. He worried that too many black and stupid people were breeding. He proposed to counteract this flood of idiot offspring by providing smart – and white – sperm to smart women, free of charge. The resulting superbabies would slowly but surely spread their elite genes through the reproductive pool, stemming the mediocre, mongrel tide spawned by government assistance to the poor, the colored, and the unfit.

So he poured millons into a state of the art sperm bank in 1980. More than 200 children were fathered by the Repository’s color-coded donors, glowingly described in its catalog as eminent scientists, Olympic athletes, and prominent businessmen.

In fact, it only had one openly acknowledged Nobel-winner in its catalog – William Shockley, a notorious racist – and his donations never resulted in a birth. But hopeful mothers hoped for greatness from the bank’s frozen straws of semen.

In a series of articles for the online magazine Slate, David Plotz solicited customers and children of the sperm bank to contact him as he tried to piece together the Repository’s history. Not only did he hear from them, he became their last hope for discovering lost fathers and reconstructing origin stories.

Plotz wound up as more a “sperm detective” than a journalist, and in The Genius Factory, he intersperses his intimate investigations into strangers’ family dynamics with histories of eugenics, anonymous sperm donation, and Graham’s grand folly.

A readable book.


The Hungry Tide by Amitav Ghosh

Posted in Amitav Ghosh, Current Affairs, Diaspora, India, India / Indian, Literary fiction, Southeast Asia, World on February 13, 2008 by Ishrath Farhana

Ganga flows, tamed by Shiva’s locks, across northen India. Where Shiva’s jata ends, Ganga erupts out of the fringes and empties into the Bay of Bengal. 

The river delta creates a vast archipelago of islands, the Sundarbans, where mangrove jungles grow quickly on land not reclaimed by the tide. The tidal surge from the sea can cover three hundred kilometers, constantly reshaping or devouring islands, with just the tops of the jungles often visible at high tide.

It is home to the Bengal tiger, huge crocodiles, sharks, snakes, impenetrable forests – and a few people trying to scratch out a living. I did not know much about the Tide Country, but after having read The Hungry Tide, I find it imposible to forget. It is a compelling story, full of ideas and no easy answers. 

Piyali Roy is an American scientist who has come to study the rare Irrawaddy dolphin which lives in the rivers of the tide country. Kanai is the owner of a successful translation business in Delhi and comes to the island of Lusibari. He is being summoned by his aunt, Nilima because of a package left to Kanai by her late husband, Nirmal, which has just been found some 20 years after his death.

Nirmal and Nilima came to the Sundarbans when his revolutionary ideas became too dangerous in Calcutta. Nilima founded a cooperative which brought help, medicine, and ultimately a hospital to Lusibari, while Nirmal spent his career as headmaster of the local school.

For a short time while Kanai was visiting his aunt and uncle as a youngster, a young woman named Kusum passed through their lives. The package now left to Kanai contains an account of the events at the end of Nirmal’s life, which revolved around Kusum, her son Fokir, and the catastrophic struggle of the dispossessed to form a new society on the island of Morichjhãpi.

Of Morichjhapi, Lotus Reads says,

Morijhapi forms the most powerful backdrop to events and issues addressed in the novel. Morijhapi was declared a protected area by the Union government as part of Project Tiger launched in 1973 to preserve and protect the dwindling number of tigers in Indian forests. In 1978, the island was taken over by a group of poor and defenceless Bangladeshi refugees, seeking to set up an egalitarian world, free of maladies of class, caste, religion and poverty that had plagued them till date. But it was not to be. Clashes ensued between the State and the settlers. The Left Front government of West Bengal was determined to evict the human inhabitants in favour of its animal populace, which finally resulted in a police shoot out that killed scores of these helpless settlers and forced the rest to flee the island. The memories and memoirs of Morijhapi form a haunting prelude to the novel.

Piya is a woman used to the solitude and rigors of the life of a scientist working in the field. Piya often works in areas where she knows neither the customs nor the language, and can survive for days on just energy bars and Ovaltine as she studies river dolphins, and here she falls into the company of Fokir, who is fishing for crabs with his son. Fokir brings Piya to Lusibari, where the paths of Piya, Kanai, and Fokir all merge.

Ghosh creates a setting where everyone is on an even footing. The hostile environment erases all societal strata because everyone is an equal in the struggle to survive. This is a life Kanai doesn’t understand. In the Sundarbans, his wealth, servants, and pride have no value. While he feels himself to be superior to Fokir, on the river he needs Fokir’s skills to provide for his survival. Piya, who feels closest to the animals she studies, needs Kanai’s translation skills and Fokir’s local knowledge of the river and wildlife for her to do her research.

At the center of all these relationships is Fokir, perhaps the truest soul in the novel. He’s an illiterate man, but possesses more knowledge of the river and its wildlife than all the outsiders who don’t understand him.

Piya feels an affinity for Fokir and his life which matches the rhythms of his environment. Kanai, attracted to Piya and envious of Fokir, decides to accompany them on a trip up the river to study the dolphins. The three of them embark on a trip into the heart of the tide country which will bring lasting change to all of their lives. 

The book has been reviewed here by Qalandar at Mount Helicon.

Eragon by Christopher Paolini

Posted in Alagaesia, Book I - Inheritance, Christophe Paolini, Debut, Fantasy, Recycled Fantasy genre on February 12, 2008 by Ishrath Farhana



If you are a fan of fantasy fiction… think Lord of the Rings – not something involving whips and consenting adults. If you are a fan of high fantasy, then you’d be better off skipping Eragon.

The first thing you’ve probably heard on this subject is, Wow, did you know this was written by a 15 year old?!  And that, is the precise problem with this book.

It reads like what it is – a book written by a precocious 15 year old who has read one too many fantasy novels. A book with no width of imagination nor depth of character, imitating heavily from the fantasy canon such as LotR, Shannara series, the Earthsea Trilogy, and Dragonriders of Pern thrown in for good measure.

Cliched notions of the graceful qualities of elves, the withdrawn nature of dwarves, the curmudgeonly old mentor who’s actually powerful wizard, orc-like urgalls in the baddie army, and nazgul-like shades. Dragon and rider relationship imitated heavily from Anne MacCaffrey’s dragons.

The movie, however, seems to have quality CG work to redeem it.   

I shall be reading through Books II and III, though. That itch to finish stories one has already invested time in. And one never knows – Paolini might have grown along with Eragon.

The Calcutta Chromosome by Amitav Ghosh

Posted in Action / Thriller, Amitav Ghosh, India / Indian, Mystery, Science, SF, Southeast Asia, Supernatural, Suspense on February 7, 2008 by Ishrath Farhana

Let’s admit that the railroad incident was the creepiest thing I ever read. The lumps of clay shaped like rudimentary pigeons were also bizarre, and the rituals and secret worshippers of colonial India were entirely, chillingly, plausible. Yet that alone does not a great novel make, and how this book won the Arthur C Clarke award for SF is beyond me.

Sure, it has a great start, some interesting ideas, is fast paced, has a shadowy secret society, a conspiracy – but it is convoluted and confusing. By the last page, you have run smack into a brick wall.

Antar, a low-level data analyst comes upon the lost and battered I.D. card of a man he once knew, a man who vanished without a trace somewhere in the teeming excess of Calcutta. Strangely compelled, Antar initiates a search into the facts behind the disappearance of L. Murugan, and is drawn into a bizarre alternate history of medical science.

Leaping backward in time we join Murugan in Calcutta as he follows the twisted threads of science, counter-science and ritual, back a hundred years further to the laboratory of Ronald Ross, the British scientist who discovered how malaria is transmitted to humans. It seems the real-life Ross wasn’t trained in medicine, yet his independent research led to a Nobel prize.

Obsessed with the weird, fortuitous coincidences that led to Ross’ groundbreaking discovery, Murugan has stumbled upon evidence of an impossible ongoing experiment in controlled destiny, protected by a powerful unseen society that moves the world in secret and in silence. This shadowy cabal seeks to use the malaria virus in their schemes – to what end?

The atmosphere is surreal and Ghosh is a good writer, but The Calcutta Chromosome ends up as a mishmash of fever, delirium and some discovery, but I am not entirely certain of what.

Devil May Cry by Sherrilyn Kenyon

Posted in Fantasy, Horror, Romance, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Supernatural, Vampire on February 5, 2008 by Ishrath Farhana

Sometimes, just sometimes, you can lie on a towel on a nice hot beach and slurp an icecream cone and read pointless fluff like the Dark Hunter series. If you have an afternoon to waste and need junk food for the brain, this series is your pick.

It’s ye olde Mills & Boons with a twist. The chap with the Greek god biceps is quite likely to be a Greek god. Or an Atlantean one. Or one of the Roman pantheon. Or demon. Or a vampire, demon slayer. He is over 8 feet tall, more muscular, more seductive, more arrogant and has a bigger -er, ego than ever. Who’s complaining? Certainly not their long-legged, immortal, lady-companions.

The real surprise here are the fans – there are apparently millions of Kenyon’s Minions, who have catapulted this writer of penny romances with a slick website and enough MySpace savvy into the bestsellers lists and the Dark Hunters into a cult.

If, like me, you prefer your vampires and demons to actually maintain some sort of chill factor, then you will not appreciate having Sherrilyn Kenyon watering them with lurid sex, of which there is aplenty. I don’t mind buns of steel, but I’d be just as happy with buns of cinnamon as long the man can carry his end of a conversation! 

Most people I know would rate this book as marginally more interesting than picking lint from between their toes – yes, we are all actually elitist intellectual literary snobs here. 🙂

The Broker by John Grisham

Posted in Action / Thriller, Italy, John Grisham, Suspense on February 5, 2008 by Ishrath Farhana

A dumb and incompetent departing US President [the other kind being the completely corrupt ones] makes a last minute pardon of a high-powered Washington lawyer, known as the Broker.

At one point, the Broker had over-reached himself, and was forced to choose between going to jail and being bumped off, so he opted for the former. The pardon has been engineered by the CIA, who confidently expect that, now that the Broker is out on the street again, someone will shoot him. But they want to see who does the job, in order to find out who was behind a plot to take over control of some very advanced spy satellites.

The remainder of the stringy plot deals with the question of whether the Broker will survive or not after he is whisked off under an assumed identity to Italy, where he has to learn the lingo and blend in with the locals – which means never making touristy booboos like ordering cappucino after 10 a.m, but rather, espresso which can be drunk all day and night. 

The plot is half-baked but the meals are not. The Broker makes a pilgrimage from fabulous Italian restaurant to restaurant – and there are a great many in Italy. After he learns the language by total immersion, he goes out for sumptuous meals on government expense. Then he starts touring the churches, cathedrals, towers, museums with his beautiful and enigmatic language tutor. We get descriptions, all the while stopping for cappuccinos and espressos a dozen times a day. And huge meals – with stuffing. 

If you really want a travelouge on Venice and Bologne, read the considerably more gripping Dan Brown novels, particularly Angels & Demons.