![]() ![]() The Moby-Dick of my nascent, but admittedly flagging, literary career is Shehan Karunatilaka's Chinaman. It is the feeling that was nursed by half the adult population of the sub-continent when they read (or didn't) Midnight's Children. ![]() It is not the carcass we are after, but a living, breathing thing that will speak to a nation, or a generation. Only in our case, we'd rather caress what we ultimately want to possess. Like Ahabs, we are obsessively on the lookout for a moment, a character, a way of life, or even an age that we'd like to harpoon with our pithy prose and capture and bring back to shore for the benefit of posterity. Those of us who are foolish enough to aspire to be writers invariably come across a work that we wish we'd created. ![]() Our literary preferences are often a function of our own literary affectations. ![]()
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