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Rabindranath Maharaj…thought-provoking and satisfying…There are echoes of Rohinton Mistry in Vassanji's lampooning of post-independent India's frenetic nationalism, of V.S. Naipaul in the insistence that solutions can arrive only from a thorough understanding of the past, of Salman Rushdie in the disclosure of a history composed of personal narratives and myths. But the quiet lyricism of Karsan's contemplations, the careful evocation of place, the writer's obvious warmth for his characters, the sense of compassion layered into the story—these are all Vassanji's. Vassanji is first and foremost a storyteller. There are no passages of poetic flourishes, and a reader might pause here and there, not to admire the language but to absorb a simple truth, simply stated. The book is filled with instances of these, from the start, when Karsan reflects on the elusive nature of his heritage, to the end, when he begins to decipher the random sequence of events and poses the question: "Do we always end up where we really belong?"
—The Washington Post