The Ministry of Utmost Happiness by Arundhati Roy


This is the read of utmost unhappiness, especially because I loved “The God of Small Things.” This is an incoherent “novel,” which is more like a draft of ideas. The story (if you can call it that) meanders confusingly and floats above the characters so you don’t connect with any of them. I think a Goodreads reviewer summed it up best: Roy is now more an activist than a writer. It’s too bad she didn’t apply her skill to use this book as a vehicle for education rather than obfuscation. This is totally a publisher’s money grab, like Harper Lee’s second novel.

Gwenamon says: So painful that I couldn’t finish it and boy, did I try


About gwenamon

bookworm, confidante, creative director, cyclist, global wanderer, music lover, shutterbug, shoe shopper, snowboarder, writer, yoga geek. i'm also a very proud mama of a lil mister named james.
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