The Immortals by Amit Chaudhuri

The Immortals Reviews

• 
  Vani Kaushal

  'The Immortals' was short-listed for the DSC Prize for South Asian Literature and why not, the prose is beautiful and the narrative flows like the waters of River Ganga. There is no plot in this book and so there is nothing big that ever happens to any of its characters. But the book has great observational material, almost as if the author was a fly on the wall, observing how people and cities changed with the passage of time. 'Movement' is the central theme of this book and that is what I realised at the end of the story. All in all, a delightful read!!
• 
  Susan Marshall

  I have to say I was disappointed with this book. I wanted to stop reading it, but I never stop reading a book once I have started. I kept thinking there would be a redemption at the end, but there wasn't. I didn't care about the characters. I wanted to care, but I didn't. I can not recommend this. This was the first book I read by this author, not sure I would read another
  
• 
  Patrick Neylan

  'The Immortals' seems to have been written for the Booker judging panel, meticulously adopting one of the standard Booker styles: Indian subcontinent coming-of-age family saga (known for short as the Rushdie Template).
  
  Unfortunately it wasn't written for you, dear reader, so I advise you not to read it.
  
  Amazon reviewers are occasionally castigated for 'spoiling': giving away the plot of a book. There is no danger of that here because 'The Immortals' has no plot. Or, if it does have one, it is simply this: talented singer marries a businessman. He is successful but she never gives up singing. They have a son. He acquires an interest in music. He leaves home. It takes 400 pages for these non-events to happen.
  
  Chaudhuri is a talented writer but novel-writing is not abstract art. There is more to it than simply delivering several hundred thousand lovely words.
  
  He also tries to provide 'flavour' by peppering the text with Indian words and phrases that are meaningless to the non-Indian reader and cannot be understood from the context, making the first 100 pages hard to understand without a phrasebook. Perhaps he thinks English readers are too riven with guilt about the Raj to complain. This is patronising at best or plain bad manners at worst.
  
  Possibly there are readers who can enjoy a book simply for the beauty of its prose and the lushness of its description of people and places.
  
  If this is you, then I strongly urge you to buy this gorgeous piece of literary show-boating.
  
  If this is NOT you, then I strongly urge you to avoid this self-indulgent piece of literary onanism.
• 
  Jill

  The Immortals is a tale of two families: one luxuriating in a new world of corporate affluence and the other getting by on the old world of musical tradition. Together, they are joined by a “common, day-to-day pursuit of music.”
  
  Music is the thread that ties this book together, and Amit Chaudhuri knows his stuff. He is, himself, a composer and musician and the meticulous detail and grand amount of exposition is clearly written by a man who has inhabited the world he creates.
  
  This is a populous novel; it’s easy for the reader to lose his or her way in the first 50 pages, and indeed, in other places in the book when many characters are introduced and obscure musical terms are freely used. It demands close attention to the text. Those who surrender to the text will be rewarded with lush language and a complex emotional landscape.
  
  The key character, Nirmalya Sengupta, is the teenage scion of a corporate father who enjoys all the trappings of the Indian nouveau riche. Not unlike many teenagers, he is trying to find his own way with the judgmental zeal that only the privileged can exude. With his long hair, grungy goatee, torn kurta and earmarked copy of Will Durant’s Story of Philosophy, Nirmalya is a purist: he dreams of classical music and softly condemns his mother Mallika, an excellent singer, for “selling out” to commerce over art. He is also more than a little naïve and spoiled: “Nirmalya had never known want; and so he couldn’t understand those who said, or implied, they couldn’t do without what they already had.”
  
  His guru Shyamji, is from the Brahmin caste; his father was a famous classical musician, but he has squandered his artistic inheritance by tutoring and enabling the dreams of the wealthy. Nirmalya might claim he “sold his soul” by straddling the two distinct worlds of classical versus popular music. The juxtaposition of Nirmalya and Shyamji sets up an intriguing premise: who should be granted more respect, the “upper born”, artistically-gifted guru or the newly-wealthy who are now, for all intents and purposes, his employers? What is the relationship between commerce and art and how does it “play out” in reality?
  
  Mallika – Nirmalya’s mother -- ponders this diachtomy: “Mallika had wanted recognition, that pure woebegone desire for a reward for her gift had accompanied her life from the start but never overwhelmed it; but she hadn’t wanted to dirty her hands in the music world; she’s wanted to preserve the prestige of being, at once, an artist and the wife of a successful executive. She knew, with an uncomplicated honesty, what her worth was; to what extent would she compromise or to which level stoop if others pretended not to.”
  
  There are flaws. The greatest is that at times, the demand for familiarity with Indian music – particularly classical music – can be disconcerting or even downright frustrating to the reader. A glossary or short introduction would have been immensely helpful. Still, The Immortals is a fascinating look at the Bombay of 30 years ago -- a Bombay that existed in pre-boom India. Most of all, it’s a meditation on how – or if – art and commerce interconnect through astute observations that are both precise and insightful.
  
• 
  Praveen Palakkazhi

  I got this book on a whim on account of the beautifully packaged paperback and the blurbs which anointed it (from multiple sources) as among the best of books of 2009. I’m not sure if 2009 was a particularly poor year in literature, but surely this book, despite its occasionally exquisitely crafted prose, is not as good as it could have got that year. The primary problem with the novel is not even that it doesn’t have much by way of plot; it’s just that it is not particularly interesting or satisfying in its denouement. Oh, and a side note; the name ‘Immortals’ may mislead some to believe this is some addition to the superhero canon, but it is nothing to do with Marvel like fare. The name is a reference to the state of transcendent immortality that some singers are capable of inducing in their listeners, as the passage below alludes to:
  
  "There are some singers whose voices are so melodious that they bring to existence, for their listeners, the fictive world of kinnars, gods, and apsaras, from which they seem to be briefly visiting us ... their music brings to this world the message of that other one, to which they'll eventually return".
  
  The story focuses on two distinct families in the Mumbai of around half a century ago, bound by their devotion and love for music. It’s an interesting time period, the 1970’s and 80’s before India moved into globalization and free market economics. We have Shyamlal, a talented musician, who, in spite of his love for classical music and being the son of a well-respected classical music doyen, realizes early on that he needs to temper his idealism with a practical approach to get ahead in the world. Or at least to get ahead in the world which he wishes to be a part of. This is the world which is inhabited by the Sengupta’s and their ilk, families to whom Shyamlal and his family members serve as music tutors. It is the Sengupta’s who occupy the major portions of the narrative though. This includes the upwardly mobile business executive, Apurva, his wife, the potentially talented singer Mallika and their disaffected son, Nirmalya. Apurva and Mallika met and got married via that most venerable of traditional methods for coupling, the arranged marriage. They end up in Mumbai, where Apurva is seen as a natural chief executive in waiting for the current incumbent, a relic from colonial times, Mr. Dyer. As her husband rises up the ranks of the corporate ladder, Mallika is mostly satisfied in playing the part of a dutiful wife to him and making sure to be seen at all the parties that matter in their world. However, a part of her yearns to be recognized for her singing which she tries to keep polished with the help of various tutors, till she zeroes in on Shyamlal. Her husband is faithful in his belief in her talents and tries to lightly grease the middle men machinery to get her a break to cut a record. However, various roadblocks like a persistent Bengali accent and ambivalent interest on her part keeps her forever a recreational singer. Not that she is particularly perturbed by it most of the time. But her son, Nirmalya, has developed a casual disdain of the material world and exhorts both his mother, and Shyamlal to pursue the pure form of classical music which he believes their talents deserve. Of course, Nirmalya’s own disaffections of the material and glitzy world his parents move around in is probably typical of the well to do adolescent with not much care of earning a living themselves yet on their horizon. As Nirmalya develops varying interests, like classical music and philosophy, his studies take him to England, where he mostly confines himself to a solitary existence.
  
  I suppose the book has to be applauded for its refusal to give into maudlin and overly sentimental family drama. Things in these families mostly move on in an even keel. Even their disappointments and exultations are tempered with atypical restraint, which is fine. But, it would have been nice to have at least one beating heart for the reader to identify with and invest in. Characters are introduced, we are woven into their daily surroundings and then it just ends, without any kind of real arc being brought in to their storylines. Neither Nirmalya’s nor Mallika’s passion for music are explored much in terms of where they are going with it. It’s just there. Pleasant enough to read, with interesting descriptions of Mumbai spots of the time period, when even places like Ghatkopar were considered outer limits, and the differences in living circumstances of the time for various families, as well as a few intimate descriptions of musical interludes. But, it would have been nice for it to all have gone somewhere or meant something more for the reader. For a hardened critic or prize judging panel, it may have some attractions, but for the regular reader I would cautiously recommend it.
  
• 
  Jeffrey Thomas

  Sorry, I got about 50 pages in... another reviewer calls this book "languid". I agree.
  But it would be interesting to those who grew up in India and are familiar with the music-teaching milieu.
• 
  Lisa

  This was a beautifully written, intelligent novel about two families; one a wealthy corporate family, the other a multi-generational family of traditional musicians. These families are tied together by music, one being a teacher to the mother and son of the wealthy Sengupta family. However, the book was rather boring, and I am not opposed to slow-moving books. Perhaps it is because I did not really grasp the cultural nuances, and the number of Hindu phrases detracted from the flow of my reading as I did not understand them and no glossary accompanied the book. I did become rather interested in the story of the adolescent Nirmalya Sengupta though, especially in the second half of the novel. However, I could easily have given up on this novel, but persevered as I am trying hard not to give up too easily on novels, and this is why I can give it now more than 3 stars.
• 
  Daniel Polansky

  The relationship between the son of a wealthy industrialist and his music teacher in 1980's Bombay offer opportunity to ruminate on the disconnect between the reality and idealization of the artist. Sharp writing and I found the insight into traditional Indian music fascinating.
• 
  Iona Stewart

  I bought this book at a very low price in a library sale, otherwise I would never have got hold of it.
  
  It is mostly about an Indian family living in India, Apurva and Mallika Sengupta and their son Nirmalya. Practically nothing happens in the book except that Nirmalya at one point moves to Britain.
  
  They are a musical family and the parents are apparently quite well-known and gifted as regards their singing.
  
  I found there to be several significant problems with the book.
  
  Firstly, I was not acquainted with any of the Indian forenames and found it difficult to distinguish between male and female names. When a forename ended in ”a”, not knowing any better, I assumed that it was a female name; but this often turned out not to be the case.
  
  Secondly, innumerable Indian (Hindi?) terms were used, often without translation; there were perhaps hundreds of these words/terms used. The book was apparently intended only for Indian readers. There should absolutely have been an index of these words/terms at the end of the book to give us non-Indian readers a slight chance of finding out what was going on and what the characters were saying to each other.
  
  Similarly, there were many musical terms used, terms I had never previously heard of, and there should have been an index of these too.
  
  The writing was good, and, amazingly, the book was quite readable and I got through it to the end without really understanding half of it.
  
  I will definitely not be reading any further books by this author, even if I should be offered them for free.
• 
  Kkraemer

  Music is a doorway to timelessness, to immortality, and Chaudhuri, knowledgeable about the ancient music of India, reveals one family's efforts to both experience and promote it.
  Sixteen year old Nirmalya is in the throes of teenage angst: his father is a "suit;" his mother a wannabe singer, their apartment boring, their social circle dull, other students beneath his contempt. When his mother contracts with a new music teacher (who may have the connections for helping her produce a record), Nirmalya is struck the the transcendency of the man.
  Nirmalya sings, but he also begins to learn to play the harmonium. Hours upon hours of practice allow him to weave multiple sounds and stories together, but leave him irritated at his multiple imperfections. In practicing to enter the demands of classical musical, he comes to believe that the world of Hindu truths, western philosophy, and classical music are, in fact, the real world.
  In short, he withdraws from the world of upwardly mobile, business oriented India.
  Meanwhile, the life of the music teacher seems to careen from that of guru to servant, from comfort to concern, from ancient texts/languages/stories/music to the incredibly popular and superficial music of popularity (and success)
  Chaudhuri is a stunning writer who transported this very western reader into a world and a tradition that were utterly alien. His characters' lives are guided by ancient texts, musical tradition, and social rules borne of caste, history, accent, fashion, and the constant watching from others.
  This is a stunning novel.
• 
  Baljit

  I would rate this 3.5 stars.
  
  Chaudhuri writes this story of three main characters; Shyamji the music teacher;Mrs Sengupta, the wife of a company director; and her son, Nirmalya, an introspective young man.
  The setting is India in the 1980; the economy is booming, the property market is soaring and there is snob value in hosting a musician to sing bhajans and ghazals. The musician is revered as a divine teacher, a guru; he could guide your destiny if he deems you have talent and ambition.
  Malika Sengupta desires to perform, but her role as a cooperate wife, involves attending and hosting social functions and maintaining a beautiful home. Shyamji is a practical man, and he is able to rely on the Senguptas for thier support and donations in exchange for Malika’s progress and occasional performances.
  Nirmalya believes in art in its purest form, he is not impressed by the half hearted efforts of his mother, and he wants to commit to a higher form of music. He distances himself from the social life that consumes his parents, knowing that his father’s role is just temporary. He immerses himself in reading and philosophical thoughts while questioning his status in life. He seeks anonymity in the metropolis of Bombay and observing common people.
  
  The dynamics between Shyamji and his students and his family members is v interesting and Chaudhri writes with aesthetic style, q different from other Indian writers. It is peppered with the cultural nuances of classical Indian music, the ragas, ghazals, khathaks, poetry, pranaams and mythology of the Ramayana depicted in musical performances.
  
  Pg 157: ‘These details - of his teacher and his brother in their most unguarded moments, defenseless, before they became what they were- had, for Nirmalya, the significance of secrets and revelations, as of the birth of kings and holy men in the seemingly unremarkable age we live in. Who knew now, as they went teaching or playing from home to home, of their momentousness? But are not the great among us banal and mortal, even to themselves? ‘
  
  Pg373: ‘ The disciple wants nothing of the guru but knowledge; but Shyamji was not a teacher in the mythological sense. He lived in a world of transactions. He expected his students to promote him; his students expected him to promote them; it was a relationship of interdependence at once less calculating, less final, and more human- with all the oscillations of judgment and misunderstandings that humans are prone to- than one might be led to believe.’
• 
  Lester

  I think that Amit Chaudhuri really has a way with words. The writing in this book is very emotive, as he manages to put into words the small actions and thoughts of everyday life which go into turning people happy, melancholy, frustrated, and so on. There are numerous moments (especially if you have lived in Bombay or are part of an Indian family who live in India) where the reader is compelled to laugh in recognition at the smallest of foibles.
  
  Also interesting was the focus of hte book on the niceties of Indian classical music. the reader learns just enough for it to be interesting, but not boring (if you're not into Indian classical music)
  
  However, the story itself, and the way the book started and ended was rather disconected from this. I nearly gave up on the book during the first couple of chapters, as it was (in retrospect artfully) jumping all over the place. A smoother read to begin with would have been good. We are introduced to a number of characters all over the place, but the main body of the book goes on to focus (for me) on three main characters. Strangely, in the last 15 pages, the focus suddenly diverts to a character who had been sidelined until then, and this was an unnecessary addition to the story which detracted from it for me.
  
  All in all interesting, but not one I would stand in line for.
• 
  Ian Partridge

  An exploration of the angst of a young and talented artist whose privileged upbringing became the motivation to pursue a more minimalist and artistic life.
  
  A story brought vividly to life by the author through the detailed and insightful descriptions of India, its people and history and customs.
  
  A challenging book to read for anyone without some exposure to the fascinating place that is India.
• 
  Vanda Bromwich

  Unless you are Indian or understand and care about all the different types of Indian songs this book is not an easy read. It is about a high class Indian family and the rather indolent life they lead and the relationship with their music teachers .
• 
  Thebookvamp

  Dropped in few chapters. As i don't feel the need of reading it further and the story line is not gripping. Also i don't like when a story as too much of names i feel overwhelming. Finally its not my cup of coffee.
• 
  Hippiemouse420

  Ugh. I could not wait to finish.
• 
  Bidita

  4.5/5
• 
  Umar Beretta

  Change, tradition, music, hypocrisy, expectations, class, guilt and existential pang cleverly woven together in a novel of Dickensian quality.
• 
  Sangita

  The novel has a long list of characters, some fresh and interesting, some dated. Am ok with how it has been written, but would have preferred it to be shorter.
  Didn't get the ending though.
• 
  Xiomara Hurni-cranston

  A forgettable book. I enjoyed reading it at the time, but I actually had to look it up to write this review (based on my Kindle read list) because I couldn't remember the plot or the story!
• 
  Johnna Sturgeon

  I really, really wanted to like this book, having read so many terrific English-language books by South Asian writers. It has many interesting characters. I can't help but feel that Chaudhuri has probably written a biting and witty social satire that I don't have the cultural background to appreciate. But the book seems to just plod onward endlessly as I struggle to keep the large cast of characters straight and understand exactly what the point is. At the end, I still really wasn't too clear if Chaudhari had a point and, if so, what it was. I have a high tolerance for slow reads but it doesn't extend quite this far. I really didn't care about any of the characters much by the end of the book, or have any interest in what happened to them.
• 
  Baklavahalva

  This feels like the most thorough book by Chaudhuri; it's probably his longest one to date. I really enjoyed his close depiction of the world of music teachers and their bourgeois amateur-students in Bombay of the eighties. Chaudhuri manages to write about class (and caste) interaction without either aestheticized delusion or revolutionary sentimentalism. Young bookish protagonist who will go to study in London (an annoying ethnic cliche, can we for once have books about young plumbers or gardeners with rich intellectual lives?) was definitely not as interesting as the Brahmin music teacher of modest means. The ending was not as satisfying as the middle of the book.
• 
  Diane

  A languid, melancholy book - even sort of depressing - and yet, in my opinion, a fairly accurate portrait of how art and artists survive in a rapidly growing and changing city, in this case music/musicians in India. Not so different from artists in this country, in the daily scramble to keep the art alive while trying to survive in a world bent mostly on business. Very believable characters, but not an easy read because the author uses a great many untranslated words from an unfamiliar (to an American reader) Indian language and there is no glossary. Not sure I'd recommend it unless you're in the mood for languid melancholy, ars longa vita brevis, etc.
• 
  Carol Jean

  This book was a bit difficult for me, as it dealt with levels of Indian society. The story is basically the interweaving of two families in Bombay. One is a family of musicians and music teachers, the other the wife and son of a businessman. Money, music, and ambition, along with social expectations, create a complex if not terribly plotty story of the gradual loss of culturally significant art forms.