I'm the HindBrain..

..and I'm reporting for duty. Larging on the promptings on the forebrain and particularly since I have my ethernet and my keyboard restored for the moment. First, the putrid stuff. There's this apallingly bad review of Amitava Kumar's latest book by Swapan Dasgupta. Given the latter's saffron leanings, his view on Kumar are not that surprising. But at least he could have spared the poor chap that comparison with a terrorist at the start and the end? It's not only pointless but a symptomatic of Dasgupta's moral and political vaccuum. Well, and then there's Waterstone's at Piccadilly in London where the Italian perfume makers Laura Tonnato have introduced five new brands of perfume to mark five odorous moments in literary history. What on earth will they think of next...how about some Putu Perfume..ideally a potent combination of musty feline smells combined with the inimitable odour of Whiskas tuna in jelly...what say you forebrain?

Links on a lazy morning

Putu was taking a nice looong Sunday morning snooze and has just woken up, and has decided to post a few links because Putu is too lazy to do anything else. First, there's the review for David Lodge's new book Author Author, and here's an extract from the book.

One of Putu's favourite authors less than favourable review. Dalhousie is apparently more predictable than Mma Ramotswe and much less charming. Putu is yet to read the book, but is hoping to remedy that sometime today after which Putu will post a much longer personal review.

And there's nothing better on a Sunday morning that a second childhood. So here's the Guardian's top four shortlisted book for this year's Children's Fiction Prize. The only scary bit is that if you read the blurbs none of them sound remotely child-like or childish to me? After complaining for years that children's books were way too patronizing are we in danger of going too far the other way?