The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny
Not so much a novel as a marvel ... Here is sweet validation of the idea that to create something truly transcendent — a work of art depicting love, family, nature and culture in all their fullness — might take time ... Where to begin analyzing these close-to-700 pages, not one extraneous or boring? ... One of the many miracles of Desai’s writing is the attention she gives to secondary and even minor characters ... Among those most rarefied books: better company than real-life people. Feel the tingle.
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Desai is masterful at excavating the layers of motivation beneath action, demonstrating how things are often not as they seem, how the forces of history repeat, oceanic and inescapable, affecting individuals in ways that evade their own awareness ... The narrative is punctuated with nuanced, frequently devastating insights into the knottiness of race and representation, the legacy of orientalism, and the complexities of interracial and intercultural relationships ... This novel floats upon itself, a gazing eye, a voice, a thought, a magnificent vision.
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An epic romance ... Isn’t a gripping novel. That’s not a criticism — it’s just that Desai often writes as if she doesn’t care whether or not the reader is hooked. The story unfolds without any obvious rhythm. Narrative momentum is dissipated by swapping point of view ... It’s a grown-up novel that doesn’t hold the reader’s hand. Its undeniable power and heft is an effect of accumulated time spent in the company of Desai’s characters: the more you give, the more you’ll get.
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