By Belynda, August 20th, 2009 in Other | 1 Comment
Tags: answers to questions, cool art, day off, fire and ice, harvard square, india, people's republic, wheel questions
Last week, Claire and I decided to take in the touristy spots in Boston and the surrounding area. We went to the Omni Theatre to see “Mystic India” (It was my second time seeing it, it was just as mystic as the first, and it really made me want to plan a temple tour.) Afterwards, hungry and adventurous, we wandered over to Harvard Square to poke through shops and fill ourselves to the max on tasties from Fire and Ice.
We were bumping around the square down on the corner of Brattle and Mass Ave., and ran into THIS thing:
What the hell IS that thing?
Tah Dah. Meet the Question Wheel.
Basically you can take a colored card, write a question, and Johnny Monserrat will answer your question. It can be anything at all! Will so-and-so marry me? Why is there so much violence in the world? Wanna hang out sometime? You ask the question, and Johnny will answer it, and pop the answer cards back up on the Wheel. In addition, they’re available on the Wheel Questions website.
I thought this was really cool, for a few reasons. First off, it was an interactive art exhibit with some substance to it. It wasn’t some bullshit Jackson Pollack or some guy flinging a cow or some delusional college student claiming to make art out of aborted babies for her senior portfolio presentation. Secondly… no one seemed to be stealing the cards! Even in the People’s Republic, the sheer lack of vandalism was almost too incredible to be believed.
The questions ranged from the serious, to the clever, to the bizarre.
Some of my favorites were:
* (Of course) What makes you the authority on everything?
* I can go to Harvard. (To which Johnny replied “Good luck on the TOEFL!” ha ha ha!)
* I’m 12 and what’s this?
* I can haz cheezburger?
* What is the velocity of a coconut-laden swallow?
* Will gnomes appear today?
* How do I stop writing a finished book?? (A few readers will relate to this question!)
* Penis?
And of course, to test the theory, I had to put up one myself, and I must say I’m pleased:
Andddd the answer… Thank you Johnny. I couldn’t agree more.
By Belynda, August 12th, 2009 in Other | No Comments
Tags: aravind adiga, book review, booker prize, caste, india, the white tiger
Aravind Adiga became one of a few Indian authors to win the Man Booker Prize in 2008 for is first novel, “The White Tiger.” After reading “Brick Lane”, and having enjoyed “The God of Small Things” so many years ago, I decided to pick up the audio version of “Tiger”.
The novel is a great read, and the audio version was very well acted. I always appreciate a narrator that sounds like he’s supposed to! This of course would seem to go without saying.. but some narrators… don’t get me started.
Set in modern day Delhi, “Tiger” is at once a commentary on the incredible disparity between the rich and poor in India, and the massive opportunities that are flowing into the nation as it becomes more competitive with western society.
Balram, the main character of the story, is at once a cold monster, and a funny, charismatic and sympathetic character. The tale is spun in such a way that by the time you realize what Balram really is, and how he was crafted into a murderer by his situation, it’s too late: You’re amused by him. Shocked, embarrassed… but amused. He approaches the narrative with a sarcastic wit that at once acknowledges the inequities of the world, and laughs at the concept of it being any other way. From the most grim level of poverty, he comes to be employed in an occupation that surrounds him with precious and marvelous things he cannot have, cannot even touch. Experiencing the world through Balram’s perspective, one appreciates the cold smell of air conditioning and leather in the sweltering city, and marvels at the pristine shopping malls and homes which have sprung up like mushrooms in the dirt of the crammed city.
Although caste is never expressly discussed in the novel, one experiences caste prejudice as a native might: as a pervasive, subtle reinforcement of the concepts of “Them” and “Us.” When reading “Tiger”, life happens when the rich are not around. The red teeth and smutty magazines of the drivers, the huddle of men accustomed to having no place to sit, the cubicles in which one sleeps when one does not come from the proper genes, they all lay the weight of caste upon the reader’s shoulders for a few hours, and make one aware that birth in India can be fate. Through all of this, we get the tandem feeling of Balram’s self-perceived superiority, that he is the one laughing at a joke the rich don’t really get.
Overall, “Tiger” is a great read, and well-deserving of the Booker. I look forward to Adiga’s next work and hope that it will be as well-delivered and socially conscious as “Tiger” has been.
