White Tiger book review


Hugh Paxton’s blog just finished reading White Tiger written by some Indian guy. I think it is the nastiest, most vengeful, piece of literature that has ever contaminated my mind. It’s the sort of book that hasn’t been written before. And I can’t see anybody writing another book like it. For this the author must be admired. Everything about this book is designed to make you want to wash your hands and not touch it again. But disease is infectious and you may find yourself picking the thing up again and flicking more pages. It won awards. I won’t forget it. My dog just ate it. That’s why I can’t tell you who wrote it. But he’s Indian. And he loathes India. Utterly brutal.  Read this and you will never visit India or look at an Indian without feeling a compulsive urge to vomit. White Tiger. Not one for cuddly bed time story moments with children. And my dog’s probably done its good deed for the day by shredding it. But I won’t forget it. And if you read it, you won’t forget it, either. My advice? Don’t read it.

Hugh (your literary critic in Bangkok)


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