The Death of Vishnu

The Hindu Gods #1

by Manil Suri

Manil Suri's comic prose and imaginative language transport readers to the petty squabbles and unrelenting conflicts of modern-day India. At the center of the narrative is the character of Vishnu, an aging alcoholic houseboy on the precipice of death, who lies, penniless, on the bottom step of a middle-class Bombay apartment house. While Vishnu appears to face his impending death placidly and philosophically, a maelstrom swirls around him. The residents of the building include a reclusive widower mourning the untimely death of his young wife, a Moslem family coping with the daily prejudices of their Hindu neighbors, and two families who unhappily share a kitchen. Worlds collide when the Moslem family's son elopes with the Hindu family's daughter, and Mr. Jalal, the Moslem family patriarch, apparently flips his wig, recognizing Vishnu not as their dying houseboy but as the deity whose name he bears, with the power to save. And when Mr. Jalal is found sleeping on the stairs beside Vishnu, he becomes the scapegoat for the building's many ills. In its frenetic and hilarious conclusion, The Death of Vishnu trumpets the arrival of an extremely gifted Indian writer, bringing to spectacular life the tempestuous chaos that is life in India today.
(Winter 2001 Selection)

Genres: Fiction, India, Indian Literature, Book Club, Literary Fiction, Asia, Contemporary

301 pages, Paperback

First published December 1, 1998

About the author

Manil Suri is a distinguished mathematics professor at the University of Maryland, Baltimore County. Author of three acclaimed novels, including The Death of Vishnu, he is a former contributing opinion writer at the New York Times, for which he has written several widely read pieces on mathematics. He lives in Silver Spring, Maryland.

Reviews

[Ilse · Rating 4 out of 5]

Her skin is silver in the light floating in from outside, smooth and glistening like the surface of a freshly caught pomfret.

An apartment building in the metropolis of Bombay on a random day. The handyman Vishnu, who lives in the stairway, lies unconscious, perhaps dying, on the landing. Is Vishnu an incarnation of the eponymous god that maintains the universe? Although the residents each try to live on their own island, Vishnu unintentionally brings them together. The dreams, memories, visions and stories of Vishnu and the other residents are artfully intertwined. In an sensuous atmosphere of sweet, juicy mango’s, Bollywood films and cumin-smelling mouths, Suri paints love, lust, death and envy in the exuberant smells and colours of India.



In het licht dat van buiten binnendrijft, is haar huid als zilver, zacht en glanzend als een pas gevangen braamvis.

Een appartementsgebouw in de miljoenenstad Bombay op een willekeurige dag. De klusjesman Vishnu, die in het trappenhuis woont, ligt bewusteloos, misschien wel stervende, op de overloop. Is Vishnu een incarnatie van de gelijknamige god die het universum in stand houdt? Hoewel de bewoners elk op hun eigen eilandje trachten te leven, brengt Vishnu hen ongewild bij elkaar. De dromen, herinneringen, visioenen en verhalen van Vishnu en de andere bewoners lopen kunstig door elkaar. In een sfeer van zoete, sappige mango’s, Bollywoodfilms en naar komijn en uien ruikende monden, schildert Suri liefde, lust, dood en afgunst in de exuberante geuren en kleuren van India.

[Garima · Rating 3 out of 5]

Vishnu Dies!

And nothing interesting happens. Familiarity breeds contempt or in my case, it bred indifference. The Death of Vishnu is a likable novel and a decent debut effort on part of Manil Suri but the story has nothing exceptional to offer to the readers especially if one has read at least one book (ok! Make that two) which mentions ‘Bombay’ in its blurb.

An apartment building with residents who share very little in common except one thing – they all are aware about a man who is dying on the staircase landing of their building while the petty issues of the living fosters around him without any respite. Karma comes and goes out of picture at regular intervals with two neighbors who’re always at loggerheads over gaining points to help the dying Vishnu by offering dirty sheets or stale chapatis but don’t have the heart to pay the ambulance to carry him to the hospital for a peaceful death. In between, Vishnu indulges in interior monologues that feature recollection about his mother, his lover, his crushes and his sexual episodes. This is where Suri’s prose shines but it’s not bright enough to engulf the whole book with its brilliance.

The story moves in a non-linear structure and its main purpose is to accommodate several characters, their respective storylines and all the topics upon which the author wants to make a commentary through this book but Suri stumbles here while juggling the various elements which gives a rather cluttered instead of a harmonious result. Questions about the relevance of faith against logical philosophies are raised by keeping religion as a yardstick. A blend of fiction with Hindu mythology is executed. Observations about day to day lives of a middle-class society are made. Wedding night experiences in a comical comparison with Bollywood movies are narrated. Here the intention of Manil Suri’s writing becomes clear i.e. he wants to present a story heavily marinated with Indian flavors where the life is mostly viewed in Technicolor with the background score of Hindi movies songs. It has its memorable moments but they are mostly eclipsed by the melodramatic and forgettable moments. Manil Suri definitely shows promise as a writer and has a lot of potential to further explore his talent which is probably already done in his other books and I’ll look forward to read the same but The Death of Vishnu didn’t quite work for me the way I expected from it because as soon as Vishnu died I was busy deciding about my next read.

Reluctant recommendation with 3/Five stars.

[Deepa · Rating 5 out of 5]

Well - I read this book a few years ago, front to back, without really reading the blurb about the author. Loved the book, and when I finally read the blog....to my surprise, I saw that it was DR.SURI!!! Dr. Suri was my Calculus 2 Professor in college, no joke. He teaches math at University of Maryland Baltimore County, where I went. His class was totally hard, and my friends and I had to fight to stay on top of things.
But, I must say, his book was excellent. After I found out he was the author, I emailed him. He wrote back, thanking me for reading the book, and telling me that yes, he did vaguely remember me from class :)

[Rain · Rating 1 out of 5]

The death of Vishnu without Vishnu would have made a much better novel in my opinion.

My beefs as related to Vishnu: The magical realism was lacking the finesse of, say, Allende and went on (and on)interminably; some of the sex scenes seemed gratuitous and bordering on violent (without acknowledging it as such); I wondered how exactly Vishnu managed to acquire the funds necessary to wine and dine his lady friend considering that he was an alcoholic landing-dweller?

The goings-on in the apartment building, minus Vishnu as an active character, were entertaining and provided some insight into a microcosm of Indian society...but there just wasn't enough there to overcome the story's deficiencies.

[Corinne · Rating 3 out of 5]

an absurd indian soap opera...I was more enthralled by the writing-- which was witty and interesting and at times beautiful prose-- than the plot. But the book was funny and sad and thought-provoking at the same time. I'm glad I read it. I think had Suri developed his characters more fully (and perhaps made fewer of them the center of attention for so long) I would have been more engaged. Instead, we are supposed to care about the lives of 8+ people in 250 pages. Too much. I wouldn't necessarily recommend it but I am interested enough to check out his other novel.

[Gorab · Rating 3 out of 5]

My rating - 3/5
Wanted to read this since 2008 because of a friend's strong recommendation. She read it in our college library, which consisted mostly of religious texts (and academics!) and discouraged other forms of fiction. This book somehow landed in the library because of its misleading title. Its not based on Indian Gods or mythology, only brushes upon them.

An alcoholic named Vishnu lays dying on the staircase of a middle class Mumbai apartment, causing all the mumbo jumbo and hoopla's in the lives of residents. The kitty party preparations and bickering in the beginning made me laugh out heartily.
The dramatic situations on one hand are funny, on the other hand lets us peek under the pretentious lives they lead, each family at a time with focused flashbacks.

Detailed descriptions were a treat to read.
"when she crushed that first gol-gappa in her mouth, felt the crisp papdi shards and the soft yielding chickpeas between her teeth, tasted the sweet and fiery chutneys on her tongue, closed her eyes as the gush of tamarind water exploded down her throat."
I was forced to take a reading break and hunt for golgappas!

With such a promising build up, I was very disappointed with the latter part, delving too much into the surreal supernatural perception (or hallucinations!).
A decent debut effort. Amazon rocks for recently making it such an affordable read (@INR 7.59!)
Glad to have read this. Thanks for the recommendation :)

[Julie · Rating 3 out of 5]

There is much to admire about this novel- the writing is lyrical but clean, the characters lovable, human, flawed, maddening, the construction of the book flows like a spiral staircase- leaving you slightly dizzy but thrilled.

What keeps me from loving this book are these very elements: there are so many characters and plotlines that I was left wanting. Vishnu's slow death that was entwined with Hindu mythology was lost on me. I didn't have a sense of place, of Bombay. I felt that the women in the story were caricatures- blowsy prostitutes, film-gaga teens, shrewish wives and noble wallflowers while the men were far more real and sympathetic. I could have read another novel about Vinod and Sheetal- she certainly had a story that was left untold, about Mr Jalal's quest for enlightenment, about Mrs Asrani's and Mrs Pathak's feud that gave them both direction.

But overall a wonderful debut and I look forward to reading The Age of Shiva.

[Emily Coffee and Commentary · Rating 3 out of 5]

Meaningful and raw, this novel looks into the issues of class, religion, romance, and expectations in the fast moving tides of urban India. Rich with cinematic and religious references, this book will make you feel a lot of empathy for your neighbors, and those who you think you know.

[Lester · Rating 4 out of 5]

An impulse buy, but one which I am glad I have tried. This is a fascinating tale of a group of neighbours in a Bombay (sorry, Mumbai) building. It is a tale of bickering wives, demurring husbands, kitty parties, irani tea houses, paanwallas and cigarettewallas, and everything one needs to understand life at the bottom of the middle class in an Indian city.



The lives of the residents intertwine and range from comic (2 wives sharing one kitchen is bound to lead to bickering) to tragic (the undercurrent of Hindu-Muslim tensions is ever-present) to divine (a central theme of the novel is a beautiful visualisation of death and reincarnation).



Each resident has a tale to tell, and although the premise of the stories was very much in the style of Rohinton Mistry (Tales from Firosha Baag) there was more intimacy with the characters from this author. Well worth the read, especially as I got it on amazon for only 3 Euros! I will be looking out for more from yet another fantastic commonwealth author.

[Will Byrnes · Rating 3 out of 5]

Vishnu lives on the landing between two flights of stairs in a Bombay apartment building. Suri paints a broad portrait here, with many characters, each with a story to tell. Class is a major focus, building levels being indications, and there is the sort of bickering that seems annoying and comic at the same time. There was much in here about religion, how ones life takes odd turns, what is real, what is the proper path. It was a rich book, My problem with it was most likely of my own making. I was very tired when I was reading the first few times I sat down with it, and I think that tainted it for me. It expect it will be worth re-reading some day. I expect I will like it more then. But I do recognize that there is a lot going on here. The final bit in which Vishnu actually dies is precious, as is the mob scene in which a crazed Hindu group tries to lynch an innocent Muslim for an act he never committed. Powerful stuff.

[Sneha Narayan · Rating 4 out of 5]

The premise is ridiculously simple. Vishnu, an odd-job man in a Bombay apartment block, lies dying on the staircase landing on which he lives. With just this much, Suri creates a world so complex and a story so real, one has to truly commend his writing abilities.

I picked up this novel without much thought. I had space for one more book in my budget and I chose this in an effort to read more South Asian literature. When I finally got to reading it, I was surprised at the depth and layers in this novel. The Death of Vishnu came so close, so very close to getting a five-star rating from me, it’s unfortunate that I didn’t connect with some sections. Let me discuss what worked for me and what didn’t.


First, the characters. The colourful motley of characters is the true power of this novel. Each landing on the staircase houses a quirky little character of its own. On each floor is a medley of families typical to a middle-class Bombay housing complex: The warring Asranis and Pathaks on the first floor, the Jalals on the second, and Vinod Taneja on the third, quietly grieving the death of his wife.

As a person who was born in India, has lived a larger part of her life in this country, and has spent her first 10 years in Bombay, I can say that this is the closest a story has ever gotten to describing Indian people.

Usually, when I read stories depicting South Asian people, I am left unimpressed. Almost always, their characters are vaguely secular – a packaging used to make the intertwined web of religions easy to digest for a Western audience. The culture is diluted to colourful festivals and clothes, and worse, to a one-dimensional attempt at depicting the systemic discrimination that exists here. (Yes, Slumdog Millionaire, I’m looking at you.)

The characters in Suri’s novel are complex in a way that is almost painful. Here, in his novel, the characters are at war for survival. The different tones of poverty dance in a power play with gender roles. And most significantly, their religion is a huge part of what makes them.

For instance, Mr. Jalal is your quintessential “secular” man who reads books on every religion despite being born into Islam. He meets Arifa one afternoon at a Pani Puri stall and is instantly attracted to her, not for her beauty, but because he assumes she is a clean slate. He fantasizes about “grooming” her into a world of intellectual dialogue. Alas, he forgets to account for the fact that Arifa is her own person, with her own story. She is an ardently religious person, but she has something Mr. Jalal does not – faith in humankind.

The book turns the usual assumptions about these two types of people on its head. Is a secular person always right? Is having a religion to abide by always a bad thing?

‘Every leaf has its story’ was his favourite saying and Arifa had been a leaf that had fallen his way. How touched he had been by her plainness, her lack of story…. Wasn’t she too, worthy of a story – didn’t she, too, deserve to have someone write one for her? Why not undertake the task himself?... Didn’t he pride himself on being unswayed by wealth and position? This was his chance to prove it, prove it once and for all, by marrying this plain person.

Next, the plot and the themes. The plot is crisp and short. All diversions only serve to enhance the melting pot that is the Indian city culture. The book tries to deal with some difficult topics: It is a scathingly honest class commentary. It shows, how in South Asia, class is never separate from religion. It recognises how religious practise in India can’t be understood without first understanding the culture of violence. It even tries to deal with the reality of Islamophobia in this country.

Mrs. Jalal stared at the faces of the people assembled. They were the same faces she had seen for years, yet they seemed so different now. The eyes, especially – all those years she had looked into them and seen only good-naturedness. Where had this brazenness come from, when had they filled with such contempt? Had it always been there, hiding behind all those greetings of ‘Namaste Memsahib,’ watching, growing, until an excuse like this presented itself?

But mostly, the main theme is desire: the inaccessible dream of being something more, something richer, something better than who you are, suffocated under class, religion, poverty, trauma and gender norms. This stands in a beautiful contrast with the opposition to change.

Mrs. Pathak looked at Mrs. Jaiswal displaying the gold-and-blue silk border of her sari to the women around and scratched her palm distractedly. She would never be as rich and powerful (or even as coordinated) as Mrs. Jaiswal, she could never become her, so what was the use?

Finally, the writing style and pacing. Suri opts for a very simple way of writing. He focuses more on the content than on the words: this means that his writing may not be quotable, but the soul is there, stronger than in any ornamented prose. It is paced like a short story – little snippets coming together to paint the perfect Bombay mood board.

The book switches between the life of the those the building and the contemplation and reflection of Vishnu’s soul as it leaves this earthly realm. This was the only section that did not work for me and unfortunately it was a huge chunk of the novel. The parts about Vishnu’s past are written in present tense and his present is written in past tense. The past of all other characters is written in past tense. This made the timeline a little confusing. Further, his introspections were too abstract and just didn’t seem to tie in with the rest of the book.

Most importantly though, it was the placement of these snippets that has forced me to reduce one star. It often props up at points where a very important theme is being discussed and takes away from its effectiveness.


This is, however, a must read in the South Asian literature category. If you like books like The God of Small Things or Kartography, you might like this one.

Content warnings: Poverty, Mention of Rape/Paedophilia, Gore/Self-Harm, Communal Violence, Depictions of Islamophobia.

[Quo · Rating 4 out of 5]

It seems rather astonishing that a novice fiction writer from India & fulltime Mathematics professor at an American university in Maryland could craft a novel that would engender a bidding contest by multiple publishing houses but such was the case with Manil Suri's tale of life in a Mumbai apartment complex that in some ways seems a microcosm of India. The building teems with a mixture of ethnicities, religions & languages, as complex as a well-rendered curry.


Having read a few reviews of The Death of Vishnu at this site, I am somewhat taken aback by some who contend that Manil Suri's novel is not a realistic transcription of life in India, as if that were possible in a way that would match the purviews of a sizable group of readers. Obviously, each reader renders his or her own "translation" of Suri's prose, some viewing the plot & characters in a quite literal manner while others regard this or any novel as a metaphorical depiction of reality. This is not a case of being led astray by the author but of assigning one's own meaning to the tale the author Suri has conceived.


Personally, not having visited India before reading the novel, I found the characters in Suri's story compelling but after spending time in India, I found the book even more visionary, taking the sights & smells & contrasting colors & beliefs of a particular part of the country and weaving them into a literary fabric that seemed at times wondrous but never less than interesting.

It may seem odd but several times while reading Suri's novel, I thought of particular lines from T.S. Eliot's poems, including Mr. Jalal's almost mystical experience of the character Vishnu, occasioning "signs are taken for wonders" from Gerontian and even a place with a complex history such as Mumbai forming "a pattern of timeless moments", from Eliot's Four Quartets.

While Mr. Jallal assigns himself the role of prophet to Vishnu, seen by Jallal as the source of otherworldly provenance, after living for 11 years as a squatter & occasional lackey in the building's courtyard, Vishnu is seen by other residents in differing ways, or hardly seen at all. This is not a matter of the caste system being turned on its head by Mr. Jallal but a manifestation of the variety of ways in which each of us filters reality and interprets each other.


Just one example of the quality of the prose:

How many of these would you like? Padmini asks while holding up the cloth doll. She waves it in his face. For a moment Vishnu thinks that here they are, the two of them, or maybe a family of three. Back in Bombay, they are a real couple & real lives await them. Not rich ones, necessarily, just ordinary lives. A flat or only a room with a cupboard & a bed. A toilet that is probably shared, a kerosene stove like the one his mother had. An address & a ration card. A postman who brings them mail. A job to go to every morning and a woman to whom he is wed.

Then the absurdity of the situation strikes him. The preposterousness of the images, the foolishness of his feelings, the comicality of chasing currents that skim across Padmini's face. Padmini begins to laugh & from somewhere in the faraway trees, a koyal bird joins in with its mocking call & as the peals of their mirth get louder, Vishnu hears them sound through the valley, echo across the mountains & reverberate up into the sky.

The Death of Vishnu presents a fascinating glimpse of people who represent contrasting forces within a small apartment building, just a fly-speck of humanity within a teeming Indian city, all ably & very memorably captured by Manil Suri.

A few years after reading The Death of Vishnu & later doing a G/R review, I visited India, spending 3 weeks exploring various places on the subcontinent. I found that this Manil Suri's novel, as well as several by Salman Rushdie & others seemed to come alive anew just by walking the streets, with the faces of the country's diverse population, the passing parade of smiles & colors enthralling.

*Within my review are images of the author, Manil Suri; a dwelling in Mumbai; a quote from the author relating to his background in Mathematics.

[Bettie · Rating 3 out of 5]

Description: Manil Suri's comic prose and imaginative language transport readers to the petty squabbles and unrelenting conflicts of modern-day India. At the center of the narrative is the character of Vishnu, an aging alcoholic houseboy on the precipice of death, who lies, penniless, on the bottom step of a middle-class Bombay apartment house. While Vishnu appears to face his impending death placidly and philosophically, a maelstrom swirls around him. The residents of the building include a reclusive widower mourning the untimely death of his young wife, a Moslem family coping with the daily prejudices of their Hindu neighbors, and two families who unhappily share a kitchen. Worlds collide when the Moslem family's son elopes with the Hindu family's daughter, and Mr. Jalal, the Moslem family patriarch, apparently flips his wig, recognizing Vishnu not as their dying houseboy but as the deity whose name he bears, with the power to save. And when Mr. Jalal is found sleeping on the stairs beside Vishnu, he becomes the scapegoat for the building's many ills. In its frenetic and hilarious conclusion, The Death of Vishnu trumpets the arrival of an extremely gifted Indian writer, bringing to spectacular life the tempestuous chaos that is life in India today.

"I am Vishnu striding among sun gods,
the radiant sun among lights….
I stand sustaining the entire world
with a fragment of my being.”

From Krishna’s discourse to Arjun, Chapter Ten
The Bhagavad-Gita
Translated by Barbara Stoler Miller

Opening: NOT WANTING TO arouse Vishnu in case he hadn’t died yet, Mrs. Asrani tiptoed down to the third step above the landing on which he lived, teakettle in hand. Vishnu lay sprawled on the stone, his figure aligned with the curve of the stairs. The laces of a pair of sneakers twined around the fingers of one hand; the other lay outstretched, as if trying to pull his body up the next step. During the night, Mrs. Asrani noted with distress, Vishnu had not only thrown up, but also soiled himself. She had warned her neighbor, Mrs. Pathak, not to feed Vishnu when he was so sick, but did that woman ever listen?

The Death of Vishnu is not to be confused with that game of consequencies Yeats is Dead but black humour is a common factor.

[Laura Broder · Rating 3 out of 5]

I didn't love it. I wanted to love it: I'd heard such good things about it (this was an NPR find). And with my recent trip to India it was so relevant. They talked about places I'd seen! But alas, the story didn't hold me.

The author tries to weave an intricate web of the lives of those who live in an apartment building where a man lays dying on the stairwell. Each chapter contains vignettes into each of their lives, as well as into the subconscious of the dying Vishnu. The story does provide an interesting portrait of modern day India, filled with religious tension. But some of the story lines (especially those of Vishnu and an upstairs tenant, Vinod Taneja) seem very disjointed from the rest of the story.

It was an enjoyable read. Suri peppers in lots of humor. I wish there was a little more explanation of some of the local/Hindu/Indian references (I found myself Googling a lot). I think I will read his next book (The Age of Shiva).

[Shelley · Rating 4 out of 5]

What an interesting book! I was just amazed at how EVERYONE in the apartment building was so wrapped up in their own issues and lives that they failed to acknowledge the fact that a man lay dying on the landing downstairs. On and on they fight and worry and carry on about who is using the most water in the shared kitchen and who is running off with who and their everyday lives. Poor Vishnu lays dying and no ones cares. Not one of them really wants to extend themselves past their own comfort zone to help him for fear of being responsible for him in some way. Through all this, Vishnu is experiencing death and reliving the happiest and some of the saddest days of his life. It was a beautifully well written book and very easy to read.

[S.Ach · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wonderful prose, probably in search of a good storyline….

Revolves around a dying figure 'Vishnu' on the bottom step of a Mumbai apartment. It actually could be anywhere in India, unlike many other books where Mumbai appears as an integral character. Neither it is about 'Vishnu', who is there in the story as a mast, a constant reminder of a dying soul, the eventuality. The narration is non -chronological, jumping from one to other intertwined lives of quibbling neighbours, romantic teenagers, lonely mourners. The writing is beautiful, absorbing, relatable. I loved the story of the reluctant muslim who struggles between his intellect, his supposed faith and his new found enlightenment.

[Isa · Rating 4 out of 5]

While it has been several years since I read this, what I remember was its rawness, the honesty and beauty in its descriptions of lives in poverty, and the dreams and peeves of her female characters - their neighbors, potential or actual husbands, johns. I loved its rawness and its honesty for contributing to a feeling of emotional understanding for a place I have never been. The characters were more symbols than people sometimes, but I didn't get bored with them because the language kept them beautiful.

[Ted · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed the book, but then I enjoy almost anything I read ... however, I'm making space for other books on my (real) bookshelves today, and this one is going ... particularly since I find that most of my friends were not more impressed than I was with the book. At this time I remember very little of the story, and don't have a burning desire to spend time re-reading it just to find out.

Sorry, Suri.

[Nicole · Rating 2 out of 5]

I was a pretty good book, however, I sometimes got the present confused with flash backs and imagination. It took me a while to get into it, and I thought the ending was unsatifying. You meet all these characters, then you do not find out what happens to them.

[KOMET · Rating 3 out of 5]

A little over 20 years ago, I attended a book discussion in a local bookstore given by the author of this novel. I read the novel and enjoyed it, being taken in with the diversity of characters therein.

[Odai Al-Saeed · Rating 2 out of 5]

مملة, مطنبة , لا روح فيها كما أن الترجمة باهتة

[Whitney · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very enjoyable because of the authors ability to hold the reins on all the different perspectives, very heartbreaking because it serves as a reminder that people are people no matter where you are or what you believe. I also learned a lot of words!

[Mark · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed this so much I'm tempted to run out and get the second part of the planned trilogy, "The Age of Shiva," right away, but it would have to go to the far end of the taxi runway.

This novel, set in Bombay, centers on the life of the title character, a poor man eking out a living by running errands for the residents of an apartment building, where he lives on one of the landings. (He's not the only one. Another landing is occupied by "Radiowallah," a man whose life dream was to buy a transistor radio and who now hoards its use to himself).

As Vishnu grows progressively weaker, the novel interlaces his story, told through flashbacks, with those of the building's contentious, sometimes hilarious, sometimes tragic neighbors. There are the Asrani and Pathak families, who share a kitchen and whose wives are constantly battling with each other. Upstairs is the Jalal family, Muslims whose son Salim has fallen in love with the Asranis' daughter Kavita, and whose romance will send events toward a crisis at the end of the book.

Mixed in are the shopkeepers in the neighborhood, reminiscences by Vishnu of his childhood and his obsessive love for a beautiful prostitute, and what was for me the best of the subplots, the tragic tale of Vinod Taneja, whose wife died prematurely of cancer, and who, each day, plays a recording of a movie song she loved, the significance of which you only learn as their story unfolds.

Much of this based on Suri's own upbringing. I also rooted for this to be good because he is a mathematics professor who labored for years, through many rejections, before getting this book published.

Even the dreamlike religious sequences were good, although I would have edited them down just slightly, but they mystically capture the out of body experience that you could easily imagine would come to one who is dying of hunger and illness.

[Marika · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a really nice, intimate book. It's a "day in the life" format. You bounce around from apartment to apartment and family to family over the course of about 48 hours. It has all the usual tragedy and pettiness that seems to be a hallmark of everything Indian I have ever read. And, as also seems typical, this is offset with some bright spot, some chance at enlightenment or redemption, or someone just being true to himself.

I kept comparing this reading to the challenge of readng Midnight's Children (Jessica). This was much more accessible, and thus much more enjoyable for me. This book had all the same mystical, lyrical qualities. It had the same beautiful, almost poetic language. What it didn't have is the scope. Rushdie was tying the individual to a whole country and got caught up in alot of history (that frankly lost me). This story keeps it all on an personal level. The reader is only judging each character for who he/she is individually, not as a strawman for a whole country.

And once again, love the trivis tidbits when wiki-ing culutural references I don't understand!

[Joy · Rating 4 out of 5]

If pressed to say whether I liked this book, I would have to pause. Many of the characters are, as one reviewer put it, "perfectly awful." But in this exploration of faith, love, and grace, that's exactly Suri's point. The multi-story apartment building on whose steps Vishnu lies dying seems to be a Hindu version of Dante's 9 rings of Hell (or probably Purgatory). At the street level are the paanwalla and other vendors who are totally given to temper and appetite. The first floor dwellers aren't much more spiritually evolved. Above them, Mr. Jalal is searching for god, and on the top floor, Mr. Taneja undergoes a purifying suffering that will bring a spiritual enlightenment in his next life. Vishnu (man or god? God or man?) is the only one who makes it to the roof. I like what Suri did with this story, I like the blend of mysticism, cynicism, and humor. In the end, what I come away with is a truth -- that divinity can be hiding in the least of things among us -- and a call to stay awake for that. Best image? A bride made out of two rice containers and a dupatta.

[Adam Fitzwalter · Rating 4 out of 5]

A kaleidoscope. So many narratives intricately woven into the fabric of a single ‘Bombay’ apartment complex, centred upon one resident; the dying, landing-dwelling, oddjobs-man Vishnu. Vishnu’s many arms reach into multiple spheres, most notably religion, mythology, and class. Suri’s prose is magnificent. I was heartbroken when he crafted grief, I was enraptured when he conjured world-bending spiritualism, and I was always entertained by the gossiping and infighting of the pedantic neighbours. The metaphors are also staggering, especially the layered apartment building itself- compartmentalising social hierarchy, reincarnation, life, death, and so much more altogether.

Despite blending (to my count) 8 interconnected narratives with these complex themes and techniques, Suri limits himself to 300 pages. Which I love. I’ve seen critiques that this precision makes Death of Vishnu too difficult a read- respectfully, take your time. It’s masterfully synthesised, never too heavy and never too light.

Nevertheless, not everything was able to land in one go. This is my own fault. While Suri provides subtle context when using specific Indian terms, my knowledge simply doesn’t reach. Suri offers much more to explore, so I’m marking Death of Vishnu as something to return to with a better understanding of Hinduism, Islam, and 20th century social politics in India. This shouldn’t deter anybody interested though! It’s a totally followable series of narratives, just with many layers (or, ‘floors’) that I’d like to visit again with a larger, better toolkit.

[Alesa · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Death of Vishnu is aptly named, as it follows the death and spiritual ascension of a poor man who sleeps on the landing of a Mumbai apartment house. We see the callousness of most of the other apartment dwellers, who have known and interacted with him for years, yet who basically ignore his sorry state as they indulge in petty bickering.

I enjoyed visiting the sights of Mumbai, as portrayed in the novel. However, I had problems with many elements of the story. (Admittedly, I probably don't understand enough of Indian society to fully appreciate the book, especially all of the references to Bollywood.) For instance, middle-class women become upset with Vishnu's death inconveniently interrupts their kitty party. I found this unbelievable. I also was frustrated by the lack of depth in the various married couples' relationships, and the shrewishness of the women. Couldn't we have had at least one truly loving couple, or one compassionate soul.

Overall, I found the book vaguely dissatisfying. It left me with the feeling that life is meaningless, and only illusion. When one character experiences a form of enlightenment, it didn't feel quite right; it didn't seem to have been written by a genuine believer in a spiritual search. The book was skillfully written, but failed to uplift me as a (Western) reader.

[Kang-Chun Cheng · Rating 5 out of 5]

wow, i can't believe that I found this book randomly in a shop. doubt i could have encountered this book or author any other way. feels like the BEST book i've read all year, the one i will be recommending to everyone. beautiful, incisive, and poetic prose. the kind that makes you feel grateful for reading. the plot threads are intentionally, delicately woven amongst one another without being overwhelming. strong character development throughout and absolutely beautiful immersion into the setting. i want to read everything Suri has ever written now!!

[Kerri · Rating 3 out of 5]

A blur of memories, times past, and dreams of Vishnu, an alcoholic who "lives" on the steps of a Mumbai apartment, and of all the residents of the building who are affected by his death.

In the beginning, the characters seem more like caricatures-- typical "bourgeoisie" with petty concerns and trivial quibbles. It could just as easily be one of those lighthearted American or British novels from the early 20th century. As the novel progresses, though, we get deeper insight into some of the characters' past and internal lives, and a look into what they're striving for. Religion plays a big role in the characters' lives, but it isn't a book about faith or religion, just about how that struggle for belief effects people differently.

The book's three-dimensionality did focus on the male characters. The female characters, for the most part, were very one-dimensional with exaggerated character flaws.

Overall, I enjoyed the book. It was both amusing and tender. I'm not sure, though, that it's something that will stick with me for a long time.

[Nita · Rating 1 out of 5]

Could not finish. Found characters loathsome, cartoonish, or both. Suspect accolades were a function of late 90s PC/ethnic trendiness among the liberal arts / Trader Joes set. Was unsurprised to find that the author is actually a math professor, given that his characters "exclaim" and "declare" rather than simply say what they need to say (which is usually predictable).

FWIW I did however have a craving for samosas when reading this. Maybe trader joes sells? ;) I no longer have easy access to the stores on Lexington between 29/30...

Glad I simply read the free iBooks sample before ponying up for the entire thing.