Like the Nobel prize people (see last week's post), you fail in your choice in choosing Adiga's debut novel as the best, most original novel of the year. Sure, I was able to get more than four pages into White Tiger, but after about page 20 I decided that I had had enough of his stilted shenanigans. (Toltz had my vote.)
Then again, both of you guys have had a pretty bad track record in picking your award winners lately. People stop caring about your winner about two days later, and most of the hubbub revolves around why the award-givers got it wrong.
Step it up, literary award-givers! If I ever buckle down and start writing my novel, and am fortunately enough to get nominated for an award, I'd at least like to lose to a good book, not some forced comparison of cultures while the protagonist loses his innocence in a totally predictable manner. I get it, it's the American Dream but in India. It's not that clever.
Love,
Bob
