First of all the slideshow: The God of Small Things
My current ratings:
2. Holy the Firm
3. Their Eyes Were Watching God
4. The God of Small Things
5. A Prayer for Owen Meany
6. Madame Bovary
7. Evidence of Things Unseen
"The Empire Writes Back," the cover of an issue of Time Magazine proclaimed more than a decade ago. People from Nigeria, South Africa, India and other outposts of the British Empire are writing new and exciting and colorful English. And they’re not writing about a man walking his dog, and what the man thinks as the dog lifts his leg against a white picket fence. They are writing about exotic people and smells and insanity and death and all the stuff we don’t really want to think about.
In that sense we all worship the God of Small Things, because the God of Big Things is too terrible to face.
I’m going to call her Arundhati because I don’t trust myself to call her Roy. It’s too easy. Arundhati lifts the sari of India to show the world her seven stretch marks. It is beautiful and at the same time terrible. And above all, it rings true because it is true. Arundhati Roy has followed the advice of Hemingway, in whose company, if not style, she is now reckoned: "Write the truest sentence you know." The rest is literary history.