It was very engaging to begin with. She set the scene beautifully and moved effortlessly between the story of the narrator and her step-grandmother. The description of a poor little town in colonial India and its evolution into a squalid modern day small town is also quite vivid, although a bit depressing. Some of the character descriptions are quite good, but some seem a bit stereotypical, like the British boy who has become a 'sadhu'. However, one has to be fair given that she is obviously writing from a westerner's perspective and perhaps we are oblivious to some of the things they might observe. All in all Olivia's ennui, Douglas' sincerity, the Nawab's charisma.. they all blend together beautifully and Heat and Dust is an apt title for the novel, with all its scenes that play out on the barren landscape, especially all the limousine trips across the terrain from the British quarters to the Nawab's palace. What I found lacking to some extent was that the sultriness of the setting didn't lend itself to the relationship between Olivia and the Nawab, but perhaps it was never meant to. In the end, the book left me wanting to know more about what went on in Olivia's mind, especially in the end. It may well have been the intention to just leave us to our imaginations. I didn't think about this book much when I finished it, but now, a week has passed and a scene will idly flash by in my mind, as if from a movie and I realise it's from the book. So it did leave more of an impression than I had thought.

Fascinating book about the contradictions between and at the same time love of Indian and English culture… The beautiful, spoiled and bored Olivia, married to a civil servant living in India, shocks society in the tiny, suffocating hot town of Satipur, by eloping with an Indian prince, the Nawab. Fifty years later, her step-grand daughter goes back to the heat, dust and the squalor of the bazaar to find out more of Olivia’s scandal and discover India for herself. So the story moves back and forth in time. Fascinating story, well told.

Here’s a piece of the book: ‘ I try to find an explanation for him. I tell him that many of us are tired of the materialism of the West, and even if we have no particular attraction towards the spiritual message of the East, we come here in the hope of finding a simpler and more natural way of life. This explanation hurts him. He feels it to be a mockery. He says why should people who have everything – motor cars, refrigerators – come here to such a place where there is nothing? He says he often feels ashamed before me because of the way he is living. When I try to protest, he works himself up more’……’Why shouldn’t I laugh, he cries, not giving me a chance to say anything – he himself often feels like ‘laughing’ when he looks around him and sees the conditions in which people are living and the superstitions in their minds. Who would not laugh, he says, pointing out of the window where one of the town’s beggars happens to be passing, a teenage boy who cannot stand upright but drags the crippled underpart of his body behind him in the dust - who would not laugh, says Inder Lal, at a sight like that’ …………..

‘Heat and Dust’ was the Booker prize winner of 1975.
I read in a folder of the Booker Prize that authors were insulted that the judges found only two books worthy of shortlisting out of a total of 83 submissions. The other one was Thomas Keneally’s ‘Gossip from the Forest’.

Jhabwala has drawn an out-and-out picture of the poverty and backwardness of Indian society. But more prominently she has presented the truth that the society takes the prejudiced views against a woman if she deserts her husband without looking into the causes of her action.

Tessie did not like to speak about Douglas' first wife, Olivia because, she held, that Olivia had done the reprehensible act of deserting her husband and living with an Indian Prince. Douglas’ granddaughter decided to go to India to know the truth about the family skeleton.

She discovered that her grandfather had failed to give proper care and love to his wife. He was engrossed in his official duties so much that he did not pay awareness to the needs of his wife.

She had no alternative but to seek the company of the Indian Prince, who in due course won her heart and provided for her. Douglas’ granddaughter vindicated the action of Olivia and decried her grandfather for neglecting his knowledgeable and talented wife.

Jhabwala's feminism is well-reflected in her novels. One can cite incalculable examples to prove the point that novel performs solemn function of giving a criticism of life, with an optimistic view point to look at the various problems of the society. It instructs and delights like all other genres of art and literature.

‘Heat and Dust’ is perhaps the best of Jhabwala.

6.5/10

Ho hummmmm .....

Always the same story, isn’t it? And when there’s nothing new to say, just don’t say it.

Paul Scott re-visited E.M. Forster’s A Passage to India, and surpassed him by a country mile. After Scott, there was nothing left to say about India.

They should have given Jhabvala’s Booker to Scott for one of his other novels in the Raj Quartet. (As it was, they only gave him one, for Staying On.)

When Booker starts making sense, I’ll read more Bookers. As it stands, I now read them, on the main, because somebody in book club gets a hankering. I happily avoid them, for good reason, this one being a prime example.

Ok. Tantrum finished.

But buoy is set: read this if you need a good snooze under a banyan tree. Otherwise, find Scott’s Quartet and be prepared to have heart and mind changed forever on India.

This book has restored my faith in the Booker Prize. And perhaps in reading.

Having suffered through the sexist, racist, homophobic and even boring Booker Prize winners awarded before this one which have aged terribly, this slice of narrative about the English in India was refreshingly topical and current. Potentially due to the ethnic derivation of the author, India is painted beautifully, with startling and stunning vignettes of Indian life presented, and in fact enhanced, by clear and direct syntax.

Quick summary of the story, the narrator visits India from her home jn England to explore the background of her scandalous step-grandmother, with the two stories told simultaneously. Weaving in and out of each story, the author brilliantly portrays the differences and similarities of India in two different eras, allowing the reader to draw their own conclusions without forcing it down their throat. Seminal events are sometimes alluded to rather than being spelled out, which enables the reader to use their own imaginations.

Many parts of this book will stay with me, in particular one short tale about a dying Indian beggar. Across only 180 pages, not a word is wasted, but the length doesn’t disable the abilities for sensory description and moving scenarios.

This book has moved and educated me, and I couldn’t ask for more. Five stars.

A book club choice that focuses on two women, a generation apart, who build lives in India. Perhaps this book was more cutting edge or relevant or shocking in the mid 70s when it was written. In 2018, it feels dated and lacking sympathetic characters. While I usually appreciate books set in and focusing on other cultures, better and more interesting books have been written about India and colonialism. At least it was short.

Uma história sobre uma rapariga inglesa que se cansa da sua vida frívola e encontra na amizade de um indiano uma fuga. E a história da descendente sua que procura respostas a sua misteriosa fuga, ao mesmo tempo que depara-se com a pobresa dos indianos.

It was a cool look into what India was like post-British colonialism. You got to see parallels in today's, or 1970's at least, Indian society too, the book kind of shows that India has taken old British Imperialism from their past and taken it over for their own particular ways of living.
The author seems to think Indian culture will *always* change a person entering it, whether for the person's better or worse, and demonstrates this in the exact same story through a woman and her great-great aunt.

The story itself was kind of weak in my opinion, it started off strong, but the ending just showed up out of no where, it was completely rushed, and then to top it all off, there was no real resolution, and I love me some resolutions! I guess Ms. Jhabvala was striving for a "lost in history" kind of ending where no one knew what happened to the great-great aunt so the story kind of ended....and now no one will know what happened to the main character, her descendant.
I WANTED TO KNOW!

Set in India, this novel has a dual timeline. The first is set in 1923, and tells the story of Olivia Rivers, the young bored wife of a British official, and her relationship with the charming Nawab. The other timeline is in the 1970s (contemporary at the time the novel was written) as Olivia's step-granddaughter retraces her steps with the aid of her letters home.

I expected to love this book as I find India fascinating and generally enjoy books set there, but I was slightly disappointed. I did appreciate the satirical look at the colonial and post-colonial British view of India, and the mirroring of the two women's experiences was well executed. However, neither of the main characters is particularly sympathetic or interesting, and neither the landscape nor the people ever really spring into life.

An eloquent and beautifully poised novella comparing and contrasting the experiences of two English women in India. The unnamed narrator travels to India to investigate and tell the story of her father's first wife, a bored housewife who has an affair with a local prince. Their two stories are alternated and have many parallels, as well as contrasts between colonial and independent India. It is easy to see why this book won the Booker prize.

3.5 stars. An interesting, gracefully written, memorable short novel about two women, in two different era's, the 1920s and 1970s in India. It's 1923 and Olivia is married to British public servant, Douglas, living in British India. Olivia is bored living on her own during the day whilst Douglas is at work. She finds her respectable neighbours and the dinner parties dull. Olivia meets Harry who lives in accomodation provided by the local prince, Nawab. Before long Olivia finds herself spending her days in the company of Harry and Nawab. Nawab is an interesting married man who is extravagant in his spending habits. Olivia is drawn to Nawab, spending more of her spare time in his company. In the 1970's, Douglas's granddaughter arrives in India to visit the places her family once lived and discover the truth about the scandal that surrounded her grandfather's wife, Olivia.

The author skilfully shows through Olivia, and the unnamed granddaughter, the differences in Indian society from the 1920s to 1970s and some aspects of the Indian way of life.

Here is an example of the author's writing style:
'Shortly before the monsoon, the heat becomes very intense. It is said that the more intense it becomes the more abundantly it will draw down the rains, so one wants it to be as hot as can be. And by that time one has accepted it - not got used to but accepted; and moreover, too worn-out to fight against it, one submits to it and endures.'

This book was the 1975 Booker Prize winner.

This is definitely one of my least favorite Bookers. It was dull, it was pretentious, and the main character was, in the words of Rizzo, a total drag. Which might have been somewhat forgivable if it didn't have such a promising start. Because Jhabvala is clearly a good writer, and though the book is in journal form -- not usually my favorite -- it paces nicely and the writing has a nice kind of precision to it (though somewhat pretentious, as mentioned before). More importantly, she introduces a character that promises to be fascinating, flawed, human; someone sympathetic and -- dare I say? -- even admirable, in those early pages. She introduces us to a character who begins to push against the confines of colonialism and her colonial marriage, and you see her as being smart, suddenly engaged and questioning. You are excited for her development, even as you fear for what will come. But you know what you don't see coming? All the characters turning out to be jerks or stupid or both. She ends up playing into every conceivable, stupid stereotype, and our main heroine turns out to be a total ass. The end of the book -- which I think Jhabvala envisioned as seeming heroic and lovely -- is really just stupid and self-indulgent. And nothing in this book reads like Farrell or Paul Scott's Staying On. Jhabvala actually appears to take her characters totally seriously. It is quite obnoxious, and while basic obnoxiousness in a well-written book might warrant 3 stars, she gets docked for getting my hopes up for much better characters and a much better story.