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another foray into the glorious circus that is bombay. and written by a new yorker who grew up in jackson heights, no less! great, entertaining cultural anthropology. worth a read.
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Maximum City: Bombay Lost and Found
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A native of Bombay, Suketu Mehta gives us an insider’s view of this stunning metropolis. He approaches the city from unexpected angles, taking us into the criminal underworld of rival Muslim and Hindu gangs, following the life of a bar dancer raised amid poverty and abuse, opening the door into the inner sanctums of Bollywood, and delving into the stories of the countless villagers who come in search of a better life and end up living on the sidewalks.
As each individual story unfolds, Mehta also recounts his own efforts to make a home in Bombay after more than twenty years abroad. Candid, impassioned, funny, and heartrending, Maximum City is a revelation of an ancient and ever-changing world.
As each individual story unfolds, Mehta also recounts his own efforts to make a home in Bombay after more than twenty years abroad. Candid, impassioned, funny, and heartrending, Maximum City is a revelation of an ancient and ever-changing world.
542 pages, Paperback
First published January 1,2004
This edition
- Format
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542 pages, Paperback
- Published
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September 27, 2005 by Vintage
- ISBN
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9780375703409
- ASIN
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0375703403
- Language
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English
About the author
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Suketu Mehta is the New York-based author of Maximum City: Bombay Lost and Found, which won the Kiriyama Prize and the Hutch Crossword Award, and was a finalist for the 2005 Pulitzer Prize, the Lettre Ulysses Prize, the BBC4 Samuel Johnson Prize, and the Guardian First Book Award. His autobiographical account of his experiences in Mumbai, Maximum City, was published in 2004. The book, based on two and a half years of research, explores the underbelly of the city.
He has won a New York Foundation for the Arts Fellowship for his fiction. Mehta's work has been published in The New Yorker, The New York Times Magazine, National Geographic, Granta, Harper's, Time, Newsweek, The New York Review of Books and Scroll.in, and has been featured on NPR's Fresh Air, and NPR's All Things Considered. Mehta has also written original screenplays for films, including New York, I Love You (2008) and Mission Kashmir (2000) with novelist Vikram Chandra.
His latest book This Land Is Our Land: An Immigrant's Manifesto, was published in June 2019 under a 2007 Guggenheim fellowship. A forthright defense of immigrants, both legal and illegal, in the wake of colonialism, the book argued that "the West has forced people to become migrants. The right to migrate is overdue reparation for those centuries of degradation and exploitation."
He has won a New York Foundation for the Arts Fellowship for his fiction. Mehta's work has been published in The New Yorker, The New York Times Magazine, National Geographic, Granta, Harper's, Time, Newsweek, The New York Review of Books and Scroll.in, and has been featured on NPR's Fresh Air, and NPR's All Things Considered. Mehta has also written original screenplays for films, including New York, I Love You (2008) and Mission Kashmir (2000) with novelist Vikram Chandra.
His latest book This Land Is Our Land: An Immigrant's Manifesto, was published in June 2019 under a 2007 Guggenheim fellowship. A forthright defense of immigrants, both legal and illegal, in the wake of colonialism, the book argued that "the West has forced people to become migrants. The right to migrate is overdue reparation for those centuries of degradation and exploitation."
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A native-Bombay boy returns to the newly christened Mumbai after living in New York. Started out as a wonderful narrative that reflected my own thoughts, criticisms and fears of returning to the homeland. Its an interesting read but requires some patience to get through.
Mehta delves into various aspects of the underworld and its control over the city of Bombay - which is fascinating, but I echo Sabrina's sentiments - homeboy could have used an editor. There were stretches of pages that were quite repetitive, and uninteresting; however, for what its worth - it still has some great insights on the homeland.
Some quotes that resonate:
In the context of moving back into the apartment complex he had grown up in, "I am afraid that one of these days I'll meet myself, the stranger within, coming or going. The body, safely interred in the grave, will rise and crouching, loping, come up to me from behind."
In the context of inefficient governance, and the arbitrary renaming of cities: "The government can't make the physical city a better place, but they can call it by a different name."
Mehta delves into various aspects of the underworld and its control over the city of Bombay - which is fascinating, but I echo Sabrina's sentiments - homeboy could have used an editor. There were stretches of pages that were quite repetitive, and uninteresting; however, for what its worth - it still has some great insights on the homeland.
Some quotes that resonate:
In the context of moving back into the apartment complex he had grown up in, "I am afraid that one of these days I'll meet myself, the stranger within, coming or going. The body, safely interred in the grave, will rise and crouching, loping, come up to me from behind."
In the context of inefficient governance, and the arbitrary renaming of cities: "The government can't make the physical city a better place, but they can call it by a different name."
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One of the most interesting books about Bombay I've read after Shantaram. Describes the seedy underbelly as well as the fighting indomitable spirit of the Bombayites . Definitely a must read for those who love Bombay & it's people.
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the best book revealing the bitter truths that the city people face daily
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If you can not relate yourself with Mumbai, probably you will not like it. If Mumbai makes you curious, even just by movies, you will love good portion of the book.
I loved part 1: Power. Suketu writes a gripping tale of riots, underworld and Mumbai police's interrogation and encounters.
Chapter six made me yawn. I didn't find description of Irani hotel menu interesting.
Chapter called "A city in heat" is good read which takes you in the world of night bar girls.
Chapter "Distilleries of Pleasure" is waste of time when he writes making of mission kasmir. But story of mahesh bhatt's struggle with censor board is interesting. Other than this, you can give pass to this chapter.
Sukteu should be sued for writing "Memory lanes" chapter. Dude! Why do you think that I would be interested in finer details of your school function?
Chapter "sone ki Chidiya" is readable, but if you want to give it a pass, you are not loosing any thing.
Suketu should be killed for writing chapter "good bye" world.
The part 1 is really gripping and worth reading. After that Suketu starts writing garbage at many places. By the time you finish the book, you do not feel "wow".
I loved part 1: Power. Suketu writes a gripping tale of riots, underworld and Mumbai police's interrogation and encounters.
Chapter six made me yawn. I didn't find description of Irani hotel menu interesting.
Chapter called "A city in heat" is good read which takes you in the world of night bar girls.
Chapter "Distilleries of Pleasure" is waste of time when he writes making of mission kasmir. But story of mahesh bhatt's struggle with censor board is interesting. Other than this, you can give pass to this chapter.
Sukteu should be sued for writing "Memory lanes" chapter. Dude! Why do you think that I would be interested in finer details of your school function?
Chapter "sone ki Chidiya" is readable, but if you want to give it a pass, you are not loosing any thing.
Suketu should be killed for writing chapter "good bye" world.
The part 1 is really gripping and worth reading. After that Suketu starts writing garbage at many places. By the time you finish the book, you do not feel "wow".
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A portrait of Bombay.
The author grew up in the city, but left and spend some 20 years in western cities, around the world, before returning for a two and a half year period, with his family. The book consists of three parts: One on the Bombay mafia, "Power", one on the entertainment industry, both sex and movies, "Pleasure", and one part called "Passages"�, a collection of portraits which didn't fit in the other two parts, the largest of which is about a family turning Jain monks (walking the world without possessions).
Parts of the book are extremely well done, where Mehta is able to go much deeper than the more superficial observations of the individuals he encounters, works and talks with. However, most of the book is, more likely, only really of value to readers in one way or another familiar with the city itself, to people who can relate to the individuals, architecture or feelings Mehta describes. It is therefore no surprise that most of the authors who are quoted on the book's sleeve, positively commenting on the book, all have some Indian connection.
Several times, Mehta seems to make veiled but negative comments on the Indian middle class. Is it that he's afraid he's middle class himself? His description of the Bombay underworld is extremely interesting and shows a world tied together with Indian politics and, more than once, reminded me of what you find in many African countries, with governments so corrupt, development of the nation halts.
But maybe India is too big, too populous, for the many bad apples to have an effect on the overall taste. Or, then again, maybe Indians are just too much used to the bad apples in the bunch and take them for granted.
The author grew up in the city, but left and spend some 20 years in western cities, around the world, before returning for a two and a half year period, with his family. The book consists of three parts: One on the Bombay mafia, "Power", one on the entertainment industry, both sex and movies, "Pleasure", and one part called "Passages"�, a collection of portraits which didn't fit in the other two parts, the largest of which is about a family turning Jain monks (walking the world without possessions).
Parts of the book are extremely well done, where Mehta is able to go much deeper than the more superficial observations of the individuals he encounters, works and talks with. However, most of the book is, more likely, only really of value to readers in one way or another familiar with the city itself, to people who can relate to the individuals, architecture or feelings Mehta describes. It is therefore no surprise that most of the authors who are quoted on the book's sleeve, positively commenting on the book, all have some Indian connection.
Several times, Mehta seems to make veiled but negative comments on the Indian middle class. Is it that he's afraid he's middle class himself? His description of the Bombay underworld is extremely interesting and shows a world tied together with Indian politics and, more than once, reminded me of what you find in many African countries, with governments so corrupt, development of the nation halts.
But maybe India is too big, too populous, for the many bad apples to have an effect on the overall taste. Or, then again, maybe Indians are just too much used to the bad apples in the bunch and take them for granted.
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The book is really insignificant. It picks one character each from the ubderbellies of the city and regurgitates the author's conversation with them (even small gestures and actions are just described verbatim). This postman's job has ensured we have a long 581 pages book in what could have been a crisper 200 pages. It has zero impact on the reader. Also this book is not relevant in today's times, as much has changed. He generalized his characters to make them appear as general stories of the city. An easily missable book.
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This book could have been called "Maximum Shithole" because the Bombay it portrays is disgusting, rank, infested by crooks and killers and sleazy, abusive characters.
Mehta has written a lyrical and engaging work. But in pursuit of his sensationalist narrative, Mehta all but ignores the everyday lives of regular people in Bombay. The city he portrays is a city of extremes, because he has chosen only the most extreme lives to follow. Half the book is spent with the gangsters and murderers of the Bombay underworld, but the struggles of the honest people they victimize are summarized in a few sentences. The only women who seem to exist at all in this Maximum City are prostitutes and gangsters' molls. He cherry-picks these anecdotes to support his thesis. His Bombay is extreme because he discounts everything about it that is not extreme.
It is an entertaining enough book, but it is sensationalist, larger than life, as carefully crafted for extremity of narrative as the Bollywood scripts he shows contempts for (even while he is writing them). It is not an honest or relatable portrayal of workaday life in Bombay. Go in with that expectation, and you will enjoy the book. I went in hoping to learn something of the lives of regular folks who occupy this bizarre and fascinating city, and I was frustrated at every turn.
Mehta has written a lyrical and engaging work. But in pursuit of his sensationalist narrative, Mehta all but ignores the everyday lives of regular people in Bombay. The city he portrays is a city of extremes, because he has chosen only the most extreme lives to follow. Half the book is spent with the gangsters and murderers of the Bombay underworld, but the struggles of the honest people they victimize are summarized in a few sentences. The only women who seem to exist at all in this Maximum City are prostitutes and gangsters' molls. He cherry-picks these anecdotes to support his thesis. His Bombay is extreme because he discounts everything about it that is not extreme.
It is an entertaining enough book, but it is sensationalist, larger than life, as carefully crafted for extremity of narrative as the Bollywood scripts he shows contempts for (even while he is writing them). It is not an honest or relatable portrayal of workaday life in Bombay. Go in with that expectation, and you will enjoy the book. I went in hoping to learn something of the lives of regular folks who occupy this bizarre and fascinating city, and I was frustrated at every turn.
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