"In the tradition of Arundhati Roy and Salman Rushdie comes Siddharth Dhanvant Shanghvi, a debut novelist who tells an exuberant and tender story of love, loss, sex, karma, and colonialism set in 1920's India. Written with an exhilarating verve for language that conveys the intensity, color, and pungency of the sub-continent,
The Last Song of Dusk is an original first novel by a writer of enormous talent."
Shangvi charmed the socks off the audience at the
Booksmith last night, myself included, whether he was exhorting us to devour Michael Ondaatje and Toni Morrison or reading a sex scene so spicy I was afraid to breathe for the duration.
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Michelle Malkin's old-timey "war efforts":
The New York Times' recent reporting has spurred right-wing bloggers to create posters that encourage
silencing the "treasonous" media.