Book Review: The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga

The most notable thing about this book is the remorseless and blazing prose of Aravind Adiga. In this prize winning debut novel the author has brought forth the bare truth of the Indian Democracy and the iniquities of the system, this done in a morbidly jocose style.

This is the story of Balram Halwai, narrated in the first person, his tale of defying his fate as a sweet maker and becoming a successful “businessman”. His tale of "entrepreneurship" is although tainted with the murder of his master by him, but that’s how the poor has any chance of rising and freeing himself of the “Rooster Coop” as the author puts it.

Besides the thoughtful plot the book is a pleasure to read in terms of style, humor and the undisputed wit of Aravind Adiga. The book is characterized with a brilliant narrative, the anger of the oppressed in this country and the unequivocalness of the drastic decisions the poor has to make to digress from the erstwhile fate of his. Compelling, darkly humorous this one is definitely a good read!

- Anubhav Srivastava

Seems to me that only a Movie like ‘Slumdog Millionaire’ and a book like 'The White Tiger', which paints the fanciful image of the corrupt, poverty ridden India, that the West carry in their minds and look down upon, can win awards. Not that I am trying to say that these images are false. Many of those horrendous things are probably happening right now while I’m writing this review, but that is not the main reason for my disliking this book. I’m wondering why would a book like this should win any award at all? I mean, look at the story. Just take out all the satire and dark humor (which is the only reason I am giving it a 2 star), the story is superficial, pointless even, and so is the character of Balram Halwai, aka Munna, the protagonist.

Since the very beginning as the story starts in the form of letters to Chinese Premier, that did not seem real. Then there is the character Balram Halwai, the son-of-the-rickshaw-puller-turned-entrepreneur, comes off as wisps, nothing solid to hold on to, despite all the efforts of the author of putting painfully minuscule details of every thought that passed through his head and every emotion that filled his heart. I should either be feeling rage for the deranged sociopath or pity for the innocent villager and all his misfortunes. I felt nothing. The character seemed fake to me, and throughout the book it felt like a rich man is telling a poor man’s story. The first half is still gripping but in the second half, the story, the characters, the motifs all seem to fall apart. The good thing about the narration is the accurate social annotation on present-day India and the attention to details and keen observation. The story, major characters, the themes all seemed to be dirty patches on a nice backdrop.

Okay. I finished it at a lightning speed. Honestly, it feels to me more like a story directly from the 'Mumbai's weekly' digest edition.
It wasn’t all that bad. But a Man Booker Prize??? Come on!!! 

Shruti Srivastava