I don’t normally do this.

I read a ton of books, generally at least one a week, and I often have a few on the go at a time, but I just had to tell you about this one, because it is fabulous, and I love it.

“Astounding and puzzling images from the city tumbled and turned in my mind like leaves on a wave of wind, and my blood so thrilled with hope and possibility that I couldn’t suppress a smile, lying there in the dark…In that moment, in those shadows, I was almost safe”

Gregory David Roberts writes beautiful and poetic pose. His powerful words and imagery conjure up the sights and sounds of an India that is generally out of reach to the western world.

Through the eyes of escaped convict Lin, who has fled to India from his Native New Zealand, there unfolds an epic tale that takes us from the very depths of mans depravity, to the glorious possibilities of good, and all that is in between.

As an outsider who has only glimpsed India through travel programs, news stories and Geography lessons, Shantaram gave me a real glimpse into the people, their lives and their character.

Full of humour and pathos, yet without romanticizing his subject, Gregory was able to convey a story full of love, drama, politics and colour, a true homage to a culture that is broadly unfamiliar to us, and he does it all with a huge amount of love and respect.

If you read nothing else this year, read this book.

It’s quite long, but I found it really useful to pick it up, read a couple of chapters and put it down, mainly because there is so much going on that it was useful to take the time to really think about and assimilate what I was reading. It made me laugh and cry, and left me feeling a little wiser and like I had gained something from the whole experience.

Prabaker is a joy, Karla a mystery, and Lin a complex character who I was able to relate to and like, even though he did some very unlikeable things.

Read it, go on, I dare you. It’s fab.

Update…

The book is all crumpled as it belongs to my sister’s friend, who lent it to my sister, who lent it to my mum, who lent it to me. All my books look like this though. And they’re often a bit wavy too as I tend to drop them in the bath – bad Jo.