Rating: 
Summary: "Nothing" is right!
Review: Kunzru reportedly received over a million dollars for this meaningless, overwritten bit of bilge that adds nothing to the impressively growing body of fine fiction about India, or by Indian authors, and after dumping it halfway through, I have to shake my head and wonder why. The book's prologue is the best part, there's an interesting beginning to the first section before the "hero," "The Impressionist" himself, gets thrown out onto the streets and into a series of truly picaresque adventures. First off, Pran is such a cipher as to be totally uninteresting and uninvolving, and there aren't any secondary characters to fill the gap. His first adventure is a truly tedious period in a minor political squabble. A great deal of this is devoted to sending up the ruling English class, all or which has been done better in a few hundred places, both in literature and on film. I haven't read anything lately that's been as big a waste of time and money as The Impressionist was.
Rating: 
Summary: An impressive debut
Review: Kunzru's debut is remarkable in many ways: his prose is rich in color and description, every setting his describes - whether it be a flood-ravaged plain in India, the slums of Bombay, the streets of Oxford, or the deserts of Africa - come sensuously alive, and the plot keeps the reader eagerly turning pages even if at times it becomes a little implausible. The book's protagonist, Pranath, resembles an Anglo-Indian version of Patricia Highsmith's "Talented Mr. Ripley" in his seemingly effortless ability to morph from one persona to another, all the while serving the author's intent of reflecting upon the ambiguities of British colonialism in India, Africa, and England itself. I found Kunzru's prose better served the conveying of setting and local color than providing a basis for three-dimensional characters. Pranath still remains somewhat unknowable at the end of 300 pages and the supporting cast, while colorful and richly drawn in their own right, never quite connects with the reader on an emotional level. Still, this is an exciting debut and one well worth reading.
Rating: 
Summary: Amazing, Wonderful, Compelling
Review: One of the best books I have read in years. Full of wonderful details of life under the Raj,and a fascinating psychological character study as well. This is a very different book from The Raj Quartet, yet both are really morality tales at heart. I could not put this novel down.
Rating: 
Summary: Good Impression
Review: Out of a biblical flood, Pran Nath Razdan is conceived. This deluge has brought a British colonial and a young Indian bride together for a brief union. For a while only, we are allowed to see Pran as an exuberant and naughty boy, with a stirring in his loins that will ultimately bring about his downfall. With the death of his wild mother in childbirth, there has only been Pran's father to bring him up. His father is rather distant, mostly concerned with his court pleadings and great notions of hygiene, rather than his son. Spoiled by his relatives, who are rather pleased with the whiteness of Pran's skin (a sure sign of a noble Kashmiri heritage), nobody is there to stop Pran from becoming a wild brat. True enough, the astrologer called upon at the time of Pran's birth has seen something of his troubled future, but has settled on presenting a more orthodox reading for the boy to save his own headaches and to earn himself a good tip. Unknown to Pran, it is not the planets that are keeping a watch over him, but Anjali, the maidservant who knows all about Pran's dubious conception. Unfortunately, as Pran eyes Anjali's daughter Gita, he fails to see what will be the real consequences of his actions. Hari Kunzru's depiction of the 1918 'Spanish' flu is truly authentic and resonates greatly. This biggest killer of mankind proved to be a great leveller, as Pran finds out to his cost. Following the advice of a tramp, Pran finds shelter, food, and abuse. Not for the last time in his life, Pran is dosed up with drugs to numb him against his new degrading profession. In flies Enza and two eunuchs to rescue him from this predicament, and Pran find himself thrust into the dubious court intrigues of Fatehpur. Hari Kunzru has stated that he wanted Pran to find various father figures in his journeys, and the first he comes across is the obese Major Augustus Privett-Clampe, who has rather a fondness for young boys. As an unwilling political officer, he is a ripe target for blackmail. Pran escapes from this farce on his own two feet with his sexuality intact, and wanders into the hell caused by Dyer's decision to fire at unarmed protestors at Amritsar. From there he makes it to the Falkland Road in Bombay, home to the oldest profession and the Independent Scottish Mission Among the Heathen. It's not long before Pran has met, and then becomes Jonathan Bridgeman: his last and most eventful incarnation... One of the great themes in the discipline of Cultural Studies is that of barriers, and how one can transgress them. Pran, with the lightness of his skin, finds that he can cross bridges in all sorts of directions, being seen as both Indian and English at various times. As the Khwaja-sara tells Pran, there are a multiplicity of sexualities, and in this way, there also seems to be a multitude of identities. I know that one of the great themes of literature is the search for identity, but it does seem a great pity that Pran loses his own identity so early on. The precocious little boy rarely reappears; such is Pran's desire to conform, to fit. As figures such as Reverend Macfarlane are introduced, they also take a great deal of the narrative away from Pran. Macfarlane seems to be a hybrid of Reverend Wilson and Doctor Potter from Matthew Kneale's English Passengers, but in contrast, you never really care what happens to Macfarlane. Wilson and Potter may be odious creations, but they have vitality that most of the characters in The Impressionist lack. There is also a passage where Kunzru writes: "Delicacy suggests that this juncture might be suitable for a survey of the history... of Fatehpur". This sounds very much like an essay that I've read about Toni Morrison's Beloved, which said that slave narratives would often say "Now let us draw a veil over proceedings too terrible to relate" - we never really get to see Pran's suffering, since the "objective observers" are "sadly lacking", and Pran himself is drugged to the eyeballs and never gets to relate anything. In short, Hari Kunzru could have produced a much more powerful narrative than he has done here. The ever-present present tense seems to hark back to Hari Kunzru's travel journalism, and does not allow much variety of pace. Privett-Clampe calls Pran "Clive" and Pran later adopts the name of "Robert" in two implicit references to Sir Robert Clive, who like Pran, was an Anglo-Indian. In the early days of the empire, it was perfectly acceptable for British men to take Indian wives, and Hari Kunzru reels off an impressive list of sons conceived from such unions: Lord Roberts, Lord Liverpool, and Skinner, founder of the Bengal Lancers. However, I think that it would have made for a more powerful book if Hari Kunzru had concentrated on presenting the stories of a few more Anglo-Indians like Harry Begg, rather than launching Pran on a huge picaresque journey, with so many twists and turns that Pran is left high and dry, and often abandoned for whole sections. True enough, there are juicy scenes, such as Pran's encounter with Lily Parry, but these do not last long. In the later stages of the novel, Pran ends up in Oxford. Yet the threat of his imminent "debagging" never seems quite as savage nor as comic as that inflicted upon the hero of Evelyn Waugh's "Decline and Fall", and Hari Kunzru's narrative is nowhere near as pacy and witty as Waugh. But then there is that delicious scene where Pran trying to grab at Gita is presented in the form of a mathematical formula, as intractable as anything found in "Fermat's Last Theorem". Despite some shortcomings, Hari Kunzru's debut does finally leave a good impression.
Rating:
Summary: A remarkable first novel
Review: Ronald Forrester is an English forester in Simla, India, where he came to see what life was like in, ironically, a country without trees. In 1918 during a violent storm which floods the country, this difficult and taciturn man encounters a young woman called Armrita in a cave. After an expert and violent [adult] scene, the Englishman is killed by the flood and Armrita is taken to Agra to be married to Razdan, a distinguished court pleader who belongs to one of the highest and most distinguished castes in all Hindustan. Some months later, Armrita gives birth to a son, Pran Nath, who is actually Ronald Forrester's child, and dies after delivering the baby. A few years later, when Razdan learns that is son is the "[illegitimate] child of a casteless, filth eating, left-and-right-hand-confusing Englishman", he dies of shock. Now an orphan, Pran Nath is thrown out of the house by the chowkidar and becomes one of the many homeless of Agra.
So begins the epic life of a young boy of six in India. His odyssey-like journey will take him from Agra to the red light district of Bombay, then to the brick cloisters of the University of Oxford and finally to Fotseland, in Africa. It is the sad story of a man never understanding who he really is, neither really Indian nor really English, despite all his efforts. Mr Kunzru meditates on the construction of identity, self deprecation, miscegenation and racism in an ambitious and remarkable first novel.
Rating:
Summary: AN ARRESTING READING OF THIS NONPAREIL ADVENTURE
Review: Sometimes surreal, always fascinating, British journalist Hari Kunzru's first novel is a masterful and imaginative tale of one who can transform himself to suit situation and desire. Mr. Kunzru provides an arresting reading of this nonpareil adventure. Although he is the child of an Englishman, Pran Nath Razdan, is presented by his mother as the offspring of her wealthy Indian husband. It is the early 1900s, and the boy is raised with every advantage. However, in his early teens, Pran's real father is discovered by the affluent man, and the boy is thrown into the streets to fare as best he can. His sanctuary is a brothel where he is dressed in women's clothes and offered as such. Later, for the satisfaction of a deviant military man he transforms himself into perfection incarnate in the guise of an English schoolboy. Following his escape to Bombay he adopts a double life as the compliant son of a missionary couple, and as an errand boy for the prostitutes of the city. Pran has learned his lessons well - he knows how to reinvent himself in order to survive, and later learns that these same transformations can be used for his baser, more selfish desires. With a story that ranges throughout the globe, Kunzru takes readers on an unforgettable journey through distant locales while examining our awareness of what is perceived and what is real. - Gail Cooke
Rating:
Summary: waste of time
Review: The author is obvoiusly intelligent but obsessed by sexual perversions. His scenes of the young boy being sodomized by older men is at the least tasteless and at the most child pornography. In the authors mind, everyone is hiding a deviant sexual appetite.
Rating:
Summary: finishes with a climb . . .
Review: The first 300 pages of this book (i.e., to England) are wonderful. The last 200 are like a steep climb after having biked 120km -- not that difficult, but certainly not a pleasure. It lags, in other words. I was dissappointed in the end. And with the ending -- it felt like Kunzru just couldn't figure out what to do with poor Pran at the end of all the satire.
Rating:
Summary: The Ultimate Shapeshifter
Review: The first thing anyone notices about Hari Kunzru's debut novel, "The Impressionist," is that it certainly is different. To begin with, the protagonist, Pran Nath Razdan, was conceived in a cave during the first monsoon of the year 1903, the son of an indulged Indian girl, Amrita, and a silent British forestry specialist. Although Amrita died in childbirth, a maid reveals Pran Nath's true parentage when he is but 15 years old. Consequently, he is thrown out of the luxurious home of his wealthy Kashmiri "father" and grows up alone, inventing and reinventing himself and his life as he chooses. Pran Nath had the luck, or the misfortune (it all depends on the way in which one looks at the situation), to be born with the fair skin of his English father. While this makes him an outcast in India, it does allow him to reinvent himself as a totally Caucasian man...when the occasion calls for it. Neither brown nor white, Pran Nath really can't decide what, or even who, he really is. To say that his "sense of self" is seriously underdeveloped is a serious understatement. Pran Nath will be anything to anyone and he takes pride in his ability to do so. Pran Nath, of course, comes off as a very superficial character. I don't see how we could perceive him in any other way. The man has no essence, no core, his personality, indeed, his very identity is as fluid as the water in a backyard birdbath. This is not to say that Pran Nath is cardboard cutout of a character. He's not. He's something beyond that. He's almost invisible or the ultimate shapeshifter, perhaps. Pran Nath, as a homeless teenager, spends time in a brothel (where he's known as "Rukhsana"), then finds employment in the home of the demented Nawab of Fatehpur (where he's known as "Clive"). With blackmail and cross-dressing as their focus, these sections of the book read more like a farce than anything else and are probably it's weakest links. Once Pran Nath realizes that he can make others believe he is 100% white, he escapes to Bombay, becomes the foster son of a Scottish missionary and his wife, the Macfarlanes, who christen Pran Nath, "Robert." Life with the Macfarlanes leaves something to be desired, however, and so "Robert" also spends time in the Bombay underworld as "Pretty Bobby." This section of the book is wonderful, and the Macfarlane's back story is simply superb, one of the best set pieces I've read in a long time. Had the entire book been as wonderfully good as this section, I would certainly have given it five stars rather than four. Shapeshifters aren't known for their stability and neither is Pran Nath. He is also smart enough to find passage out of India when political turmoil begins to tear the country apart at the seams. For reasons I won't reveal, Pran Nath "becomes" Jonathan Bridgeman and finds himself bound for England...Oxford, to be precise. There, he becomes, of course, no less than the hysterically funny, prototypical, ultra-conservative Englishman. And, to put it mildly...things happen. It is as "Jonathan Bridgeman" that Pran Nath meets and falls madly in love with Astarte Chapel, the lovely daughter of an Oxford professor who convinces "Jonathan" to accompany him on a trip to tribal Africa. The African chapters, like the back story of the Scottish Macfarlanes, are probably the very best in the book. It is in Africa that Pran Nath comes face to face with his destiny and it is here that this book's elaborate joke is finally revealed. This book is, of course, quite episodic, and some episodes have much more power than others. While the "Scottish" and "African" sections shine with brilliance and originality, the "Indian" and "English" ones can, at times, be a little heavy-handed. Both the book's social statement and its satire could have used a lighter touch. The characters, for the most part, are wonderful, fully fleshed-out and quite believable, except for Pran Nath, of course. And what of Pran Nath? What are we to make of him? Is he a hero or an anti-hero? I think he's both. He's an opportunist, certainly, but only because he is forced to live as one. "The Impressionist" is almost too much of a good thing and the book might suffer just a little because of that. Kunzru, after all, needs to save something special for his second book. Despite a few shortcomings and some unevenness, this is a marvelous book and a marvelously entertaining one. But, although it may sound funny and comic, it is not a lighthearted, fun read. This is heady stuff, for, at the bottom of it all, "The Impressionist" explores such "heavy" topics as what it means to be black or white or brown or red; what it means to be Indian or English or Scottish or man or woman or tribal warrior. In essence, what it means to be human.
Rating:
Summary: The Ultimate Shapeshifter
Review: The first thing anyone notices about Hari Kunzru's debut novel, "The Impressionist," is that it certainly is different. To begin with, the protagonist, Pran Nath Razdan, was conceived in a cave during the first monsoon of the year 1903, the son of an indulged Indian girl, Amrita, and a silent British forestry specialist. Although Amrita died in childbirth, a maid reveals Pran Nath's true parentage when he is but 15 years old. Consequently, he is thrown out of the luxurious home of his wealthy Kashmiri "father" and grows up alone, inventing and reinventing himself and his life as he chooses. Pran Nath had the luck, or the misfortune (it all depends on the way in which one looks at the situation), to be born with the fair skin of his English father. While this makes him an outcast in India, it does allow him to reinvent himself as a totally Caucasian man...when the occasion calls for it. Neither brown nor white, Pran Nath really can't decide what, or even who, he really is. To say that his "sense of self" is seriously underdeveloped is a serious understatement. Pran Nath will be anything to anyone and he takes pride in his ability to do so. Pran Nath, of course, comes off as a very superficial character. I don't see how we could perceive him in any other way. The man has no essence, no core, his personality, indeed, his very identity is as fluid as the water in a backyard birdbath. This is not to say that Pran Nath is cardboard cutout of a character. He's not. He's something beyond that. He's almost invisible or the ultimate shapeshifter, perhaps. Pran Nath, as a homeless teenager, spends time in a brothel (where he's known as "Rukhsana"), then finds employment in the home of the demented Nawab of Fatehpur (where he's known as "Clive"). With blackmail and cross-dressing as their focus, these sections of the book read more like a farce than anything else and are probably it's weakest links. Once Pran Nath realizes that he can make others believe he is 100% white, he escapes to Bombay, becomes the foster son of a Scottish missionary and his wife, the Macfarlanes, who christen Pran Nath, "Robert." Life with the Macfarlanes leaves something to be desired, however, and so "Robert" also spends time in the Bombay underworld as "Pretty Bobby." This section of the book is wonderful, and the Macfarlane's back story is simply superb, one of the best set pieces I've read in a long time. Had the entire book been as wonderfully good as this section, I would certainly have given it five stars rather than four. Shapeshifters aren't known for their stability and neither is Pran Nath. He is also smart enough to find passage out of India when political turmoil begins to tear the country apart at the seams. For reasons I won't reveal, Pran Nath "becomes" Jonathan Bridgeman and finds himself bound for England...Oxford, to be precise. There, he becomes, of course, no less than the hysterically funny, prototypical, ultra-conservative Englishman. And, to put it mildly...things happen. It is as "Jonathan Bridgeman" that Pran Nath meets and falls madly in love with Astarte Chapel, the lovely daughter of an Oxford professor who convinces "Jonathan" to accompany him on a trip to tribal Africa. The African chapters, like the back story of the Scottish Macfarlanes, are probably the very best in the book. It is in Africa that Pran Nath comes face to face with his destiny and it is here that this book's elaborate joke is finally revealed. This book is, of course, quite episodic, and some episodes have much more power than others. While the "Scottish" and "African" sections shine with brilliance and originality, the "Indian" and "English" ones can, at times, be a little heavy-handed. Both the book's social statement and its satire could have used a lighter touch. The characters, for the most part, are wonderful, fully fleshed-out and quite believable, except for Pran Nath, of course. And what of Pran Nath? What are we to make of him? Is he a hero or an anti-hero? I think he's both. He's an opportunist, certainly, but only because he is forced to live as one. "The Impressionist" is almost too much of a good thing and the book might suffer just a little because of that. Kunzru, after all, needs to save something special for his second book. Despite a few shortcomings and some unevenness, this is a marvelous book and a marvelously entertaining one. But, although it may sound funny and comic, it is not a lighthearted, fun read. This is heady stuff, for, at the bottom of it all, "The Impressionist" explores such "heavy" topics as what it means to be black or white or brown or red; what it means to be Indian or English or Scottish or man or woman or tribal warrior. In essence, what it means to be human.
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