No Substance #125: The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida by Shehan Karunatilaka
I first came across Shehan Karunatilaka’s The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida when it was nominated for the 2022 Booker. I found it on the longlist, which is my favourite part of the Booker, or any awards list, because it lets me have a look at some things I haven’t heard of. Karunatilaka’s book was the only one on that list that interested me. I didn’t think it would win because I don’t really pick winners, but in this case I was wrong, and I was happy to be so. The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida is a good book, a book that invokes comparisons to Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children, Gabriel Garcia Márquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude, and Günter Grass’ Tin Drum. To my mind, it’s not as stylistically dense as those books, but part of that, I think, is because of Karunatilaka’s decision to write in an informal second person, and the casual, sarcastic tongue that he has given his narrator.
‘You quit each game they made you play. Two weeks of chess, a month in Cub Scouts, three minutes in rugger. You left school with a hatred of teams and games and morons who valued them. You quit art class and insurance-selling and masters’ degrees. Each game that you couldn’t be arsed playing. You dumped everyone who ever saw you naked. Abandoned every cause you ever fought for. And did many things you can’t tell anyone about.’
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