When I was younger, I would read every book I started from cover to cover, but life it too short for that now. There are books I'd stop reading after the first page, after the first 10 pages, the first 50 pages or even after reading it half way through. I have even stopped reading after the first paragraph! (A bit drastic, you would think, but I prefer to trust my instincts.)
What would a book dealbreaker be for me? What would make me not buy a book, not continue reading it, or even toss it across the room part of the way through it. (I meant the last metaphorically, but I know of friends who have done that literally.) Let me try to remember.
1. Train wrecks. Ah yes, A Fine Balance by
Rohington Mistry was probably the first book I didn't bother to
finish. God, was it a train wreck?! One misery after another, it was
relentless. I could here those mat sallehs going, "Oh, it's so-oo
Indian." Yes, like a bad Indian movie! And I have seen enough of those
as a kid. I gave up after the vasectomy turned castration scene
(although I think I deserved a medal for even getting that far.)2. Gratuitous rape scenes -- including boys. (No, rape is not entertainment). House of Blue Mangoes by David Davidar. Imagine this: A group of girls are walking to the temple, and they come across a group of boys: result, rape. God!!! Another Indian movie plot. (Part 3 of Interlock was like that too.) Do western readers really like this shit?
3. Gratuitous incest and homosexuality. God of Small Things by Arundhathi Roy. What was that incest scene all about? I didn't toss this book, still I asked. (I asked a friend, a good reader, about it thinking it was perhaps only my hangup. She said she wondered about it, too. She is also the friend who told me that there are only good books and bad books.)
4. Bad research. Life of Pi by Yann Martel. First, there was a Tamil boy called Patel. What? Are all Indians Patels? Have you lived in London too long? Then, there was the corny dialogue between the imam, the pundit and the priest. I came this close to tossing the book.
5. Bad similes. Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai. "... the weight of South African diamonds, so great, so heavy, that one day, from one ear, ear-ring ripped through, a meteor disappearing with a bloody clonk into her bowl of srikhand." Arghhh!!! Yes, I confess, I tossed that book.
6. Bad beginnings. This is really related to item 5 above -- bad similes. (No book title will be mentioned here though.) An island is like to a bubble escaping from a birds throat? I put this book quietly to one side. No, there was no need for drama. I simply decided not to read any further. Less said the better.
7. Bad genre labels. Chick Lit. How can I even get close to a book that describes itself as Chick Lit. (Like a restaurant that calls itself Papa Rich, which to me sounds way too close to Sugar Daddy!) I squirm just thinking about it. I'm going to need a bath after this! No genre has put me off like it has. How demeaning can you get? (Where are the women's libbers when you need them?!)
8. Exotic Asia. I avoid these like diseases after reading Joy Luck Club. "It is so-oo touching." Pul-lease.
Yes, most of them are books by Indian authors in who write in English, but this is just a list off the top of my head. I guess there are enough dumb mat sallehs who like this kind of exotic India to create an industry out of it. Now it's all about Fifty Shades of Grey and soft porn. I keeping away from them like I did with Chick Lit.
What? You still think the book industry is created for and by intelligent people? That only clever people read books? Think again. Just remember that the last best seller was a badly written soft porn. (The smart ones are those tip-toeing around the manure to pick the lovely flowers and fruits, trying not to step on the crap or get it onto their clothes.)
An Egyptian/Welsh author I met recently said, "I can't complain though; Fifty Shades is probably paying for my book."
