|Another one for my readers
||[May. 28th, 2009|02:30 am]
My Very Own God
I have to highly praise Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts. I'm on page 609 of 933, and I've been reading nonstop since 7:30 this evening (note the time of post!). A paragraph to share with you the awesomeness that is this writer:
"When the dancers slowly entered the space, singing love, they stopped as one and stamped their feet. They twirled in place, turning clockwise in perfect unison. Their arms moved with the grace of a swan's neck. Their hands and fingers rolled and swirled like silk scarves sailing the wind. Then suddenly they stamped their feet three times, and the musicians struck up a wild, enravishing rendition of that month's most popular movie song. And with the cheering in every throat around them, the girls danced into a million dreams."
This book is incredible, and I don't say that lightly. The language is...tangible; the images are easy, the plot is complex, and the characters are deep with emotion and personality. When I borrowed this from my friend Kristin, she said it had easily landed within her top five favorite books. It's quickly climbing the ranks of mine, and even the philosophy exposed here counters the Randian muck I waded through in high school.
Give it a read. Tell me what you think.
Crossposting to bibilophiles