Anuradha Roy

“In my childhood, I was known as the boy whose mother had run off with an Englishman.” So begins the story of Myshkin and his mother Gayatri, who is driven to rebel against tradition and follow her artist’s instinct for freedom. Freedom of a different kind is in the air across India. The fight against British rule is reaching a critical turn. The Nazis have come to power in Germany. At this point of crisis, two strangers arrive in Gayatri’s town, opening up to her the vision of other possible lives. What took Myshkin’s mother from India to Dutch-held Bali in the 1930s, ripping a knife through his comfortingly familiar universe? Excavating the roots of the world in which he was abandoned, Myshkin comes to understand the connections between the anguish at home and a war-torn universe overtaken by patriotism. This enthralling novel tells a tragic story of men and women trapped in a dangerous era uncannily similar to the present. Its scale is matched by its power as a parable for our times.

On the outskirts of a small town in Bengal, a family lives in solitude in their vast new house. Here, lives intertwine and unravel. A widower struggles with his love for an unmarried cousin. Bakul, a motherless daughter, runs wild with Mukunda, an orphan of unknown caste adopted by the family. Confined in a room at the top of the house, a matriarch goes slowly mad; her husband searches for its cause as he shapes and reshapes his garden. As Mukunda and Bakul grow, their intense closeness matures into something else, and Mukunda is banished to Calcutta. He prospers in the turbulent years after Partition, but his thoughts stay with his home, with Bakul, with all that he has lost—and he knows that he must return.

Hermosa y melancólica, sutil y elocuente, la primera novela de Anuradha Roy narra las vicisitudes de una familia bengalí en la primera mitad del siglo XX por medio de una cautivadora historia que ilustra la inmensa diversidad social y cultural de la India, de sus paisajes y sus gentes, desde la fragante exuberancia de sus jardines hasta el hacinamiento y la miseria de las grandes ciudades. En 1907, el joven matrimonio formado por Amulya y Kananbala se instala con sus dos hijos en una amplia casa con jardín en la ciudad de Songarh, antigua cuna de sabiduría ancestral y lindante con la jungla. Allí, Amulya funda una pequeña fábrica de medicinas y perfumes confeccionados con plantas silvestres, y se entrega a las comodidades de una vida plácida y rutinaria, sólo perturbada por las tensiones que la insularidad del enclave genera en la familia. Años más tarde, cuando la inocente complicidad de su nieta Bakul con el joven Mukunda —un huérfano sin religión ni casta reconocibles acogido en la casa desde niño— amenace con convertirse en algo más serio, éste será enviado a una escuela de Calcuta, expulsado del único hogar que ha conocido. Sin embargo, con el transcurso del tiempo, los distintos hilos de la historia convergen de nuevo en Songarh. Mukunda, convertido a su vez en empresario, regresa para reencontrarse con el mundo perdido y compartir el incierto destino de la familia.

„In meiner Kindheit war ich als der Junge bekannt, dessen Mutter mit einem Engländer durchgebrannt war“, so beginnt die Geschichte von Myshkin und seiner Mutter Gayatri. Es sind die dreißiger Jahre, Indien hadert mit der britischen Kolonialherrschaft. Da kommen zwei Fremde in den kleinen Ort am Himalaya, der deutsche Maler Walter Spies und eine Tänzerin, und Gayatri, die immer Künstlerin sein wollte, ergreift ihre Chance, der traditionellen Ehe zu entfliehen. Ein großes zeitgeschichtliches Panorama und die ergreifende Geschichte einer ungewöhnlichen Frau, die für ihre Kunst und Freiheit lebt.

A train stops at a railway station. A young woman jumps off. She has wild hair, sloppy clothes, a distracted air. She looks Indian, yet she is somehow not. The sudden violence of what happens next leaves the other passengers gasping. The train terminates at Jarmuli, a temple town by the sea. Here, among pilgrims, priests and ashrams, three old women disembark only to encounter the girl once again. What is someone like her doing in this remote corner, which attracts only worshippers? Over the next five days, the old women live out their long-planned dream of a holiday together; their temple guide finds ecstasy in forbidden love; and the girl is joined by a photographer battling his own demons. The full force of the evil and violence beneath the serene surface of the town becomes evident when their lives overlap and collide. Unexpected connections are revealed between devotion and violence, friendship and fear as Jarmuli is revealed as a place with a long, dark past that transforms all who encounter it. This is a stark and unflinching novel by a spellbinding storyteller, about religion, love, and violence in the modern world.

From the critically acclaimed, Booker Prize-nominated author of Sleeping on Jupiter and All the Lives We Never Lived, an incisive and moving novel about the struggle for creative achievement in a world consumed by growing fanaticism and political upheaval. One night, Elango has a dream that consumes him, driving him to give it shape. The potter is determined to create a terracotta horse whose beauty will be reason enough for its existence. Yet he cannot pin down from where it has galloped into his mind. The Mahabharata? The Trojan horse legend? His anonymous potter-ancestors? Once it's finished, he does not know where his creation will belong. In a temple compound? Gracing a hotel lobby? Or should he gift it to Zohra, the woman he loves, yet despairs of ever marrying. The astral, indefinable force driving Elango toward forbidden love and creation has unleashed other currents. He unexpectedly falls into a complicated relationship with a neighborhood girl who is beginning her bewildering journey into adulthood. He is suddenly adopted by a lost dog who steals his heart. While Elango's life is changing, the community around him is as well, but it is a transformation driven by inflammatory passions of a different kind. Here, people, animals, and even the gods live on a knife's edge and the consequences of daring to dream are cataclysmic. Moving between India and England, The Earthspinner reflects the many ways in which the East and the West's paths converge and diverge in constant conflict. Anuradha Roy breathes new life into ancient myths, giving allegorical shape to the terrifying war on reason and the imagination waged by increasingly powerful forces of fanaticism. An epic that is a metaphor for our age, The Earthspinner is an intricate, wrenching novel about the transformed ways of loving and living in an increasingly uncertain world.

WITH HER DEBUT NOVEL, An Atlas of Impossible Longing, Anuradha Roy’s exquisite storytelling instantly won readers’ hearts around the world, and the novel was named one of the best books of the year by The Washington Post and The Seattle Times. Now, Roy has returned with another masterpiece that is already earning international prize attention, an evocative and deeply moving tale of a young woman making a new life for herself amid the foothills of the Himalaya. Desperate to leave a private tragedy behind, Maya abandons herself to the rhythms of the little village, where people coexist peacefully with nature. But all is not as it seems, and she soon learns that no refuge is remote enough to keep out the modern world. When power-hungry politicians threaten her beloved mountain community, Maya finds herself caught between the life she left behind and the new home she is determined to protect. Elegiac, witty, and profound by turns, and with a tender love story at its core, The Folded Earth brims with the same genius and love of language that made An Atlas of Impossible Longing an international success and confirms Anuradha Roy as a major new literary talent.

На всю жизнь прилепилось к Чанду Розарио детское прозвище, которое он получил «в честь князя Мышкина, страдавшего эпилепсией аристократа, из романа Достоевского „Идиот“». И неудивительно, ведь Мышкин Чанд Розарио и вправду из чудаков. Он немолод, небогат, работает озеленителем в родном городке в предгорьях Гималаев и очень гордится своим «наследием миру» — аллеями прекрасных деревьев, которые за десятки лет из черенков превратились в великанов. Но этого ему недостаточно, и он решает составить завещание. Погрузившись в размышления над своим архивом, Мышкин перебирает ботанические журналы, заметки, дневниковые записи. Среди бумаг лежит таинственная бандероль, которую он долго не решался распаковать. И вот настало время узнать о том, что же произошло в далеком 1937 году, когда мать Мышкина, талантливая художница, бросила мужа и маленького сына и уехала в далекие земли...