confessions of an epic indian

It’s a well-known fact that authors don’t take criticism well.

When confronted with a reviewer’s opinion of their book, they’re apt to go off the edge, frothing at the mouth with anger and self-righteous indignation.

Often, their frustration is justified. Critics can be brutal at times, getting personal about authors’ characters, lives, even their families.

But no matter what a reviewer writes, there’s really nothing to be gained from haranguing him or her.

If nothing else, it questions the reviewer’s right to have an opinion - even an offensive, unfair, bitterly rancorous opinion - and without that right, where would we all be?

Without the right to free expression, even authors wouldn’t be free to write as they please.

I’ve had my share of unfair, bitterly personal attacks as well. One memorable reviewer, writing in a (mercifully low-circulation) Delhi newspaper actually found a way to refer to me as a ‘bastard’ by cleverly positioning a strategic quote.

Another called me a ‘tapori’, yet another a ‘Mumbai taxi driver’, and so on.

On the whole, though, I’ve been lucky.

Often, even my worst reviews have something good to say about the book. Or, at their very worst, they tell me that a certain section just won’t accept my books, which is also useful information.

More often, though, it’s just that one person’s opinion.

It doesn’t matter if the person happens to be Geeta Doctor, writing in India Today, and she thinks I’m such-and-such and so-and-so.

People reading that magazine, and most others, are sensible enough to see through the invectives to the real review. As in, what is Ms Doctor actually saying about the book under review?

In that particular case, very little. Even I was left scratching my head, unable to understand whether she was reviewing a book or writing a tangential piece on the colourful vocal habits of Mumbai taxi drivers.

But she was entitled to her opinion, and she writes interestingly, even entertainingly, and that’s more than most reviewers can manage.

Some are actually very useful. I look to certain reviewers for insights into how I could improve as a writer, or at least to gauge how far I succeeded (or not) with that particular book.

I value the opinions of Nilanjana S. Roy, Renuka Narayan, Uma Mahadevan-Dasgupta, to name just three of my favourites. I’ll never miss reading a review by any of these three, regardless of the book under review.

Even though they’ve launched some of the harshest attacks on me and my work in their columns.

I’m sure they had good reason at the time, or felt justified in doing so.

Either way, their attacks on me, personal or otherwise, don’t change the fact that they’re intelligent, sophisticated, knowledgeable readers with whom I share a number of similar likes and dislikes.

It doesn’t mean I agree with everything they write - whether about my own books or others. It just means I like the way they review books, and enjoy reading their reviews.

There was one occasion when I made the fatal mistake of writing to Ms Nilanjana S. Roy, or more accurately, to her alter-ego, Hurree Babu, the name under which she blogs.

She set me right by flaming me and having all her friends flame me as well, teaching me a lesson in how foolish it is to question a reviewer’s opinions - or worse, a blogger’s opinions!

And in the long run, I’ve come to accept that.

They’re entitled to their views, however harsh or one-sided or personal or unfair. And I’m entitled to my views of their reviews.

And they’re entitlted to their views of my views of their reviews…ad nauseum!

But not all writers take that…view.

Some believe that they have the right to demand a certain kind of review and to harangue the reviewer personally if they don’t get exactly what they want.

Recently, I reviewed a book titled L* by a new author named JV*.

After the review appeared, JV began emailing me personally, writing long derogatory letters, calling me names and accusing me of a number of things.

This was the first time that I’ve ever been on the receiving end of such a tirade.

But in the end, it was entirely my fault.

Not because of anything I wrote in the review: I stand by every word. It was an honest appraisal, and in fact, I thought it was a pretty good recommendation for the book itself!

But apparently, JV felt he deserved better. Or, if I understand him correctly, he believed that he had gotten the impression from me that I liked the book much, much better than I eventually wrote in my review.

That left me scratching my head too.

I mean, how is it possible for an author to have expectations of how the reviewer perceives or should perceive his book, and then how the reviewer writes his review?

Sounds absurd, doesn’t it?

What was worse was that JV had been repeatedly contacting me, emailing me, over the past few years.

Just the previous week, he had sworn undying friendship to me, insisting that he would support me and my film project no matter what.

And suddenly, bang, the day my review of his book appeared in print, he changed his tune.

And began slamming and flaming me like I was the worst reviewer in the world.

And all this for a review that actually praises JV and his book and recommends it highly to readers!

It taught me a valuable lesson.

One, when you’re in the news, for whatever reason, all kinds of people get attracted to you.

Some will even pretend to be your friends. Or, as in JV’s case, an admirer of your work. (He claimed he liked Vertigo very much.)

And will do anything to get close to you, including trying to meet you personally - ‘just for a coffee’, getting you to sign their copies of your books, even talking about your doing a project for his company (JV works with a division of a major advertising agency which is attempting to get involved in some way with Indian TV programming and films, I’m not very clear how exactly), and otherwise offering to help network for you.

All that, of course, changed once he read my review of his book and it didn’t live up to his expectations - or his expectations of what he thought I “really” felt about the book, whatever that means. Basically, he believe he knew how I ‘really’ perceived the book, and that I had ‘betrayed’ him by not reviewing it the way he had expected.

Which is a very sad thing for JV.

Because in doing so, he made the cardinal mistake that every author should avoid.

He responded to his critics and tried to critique them in return!

And he lost a friend.

I don’t know if it will teach him anything, but it taught me a valuable lesson.

I will never, ever again read a book by any author who contacts me personally.

It also taught me not to give out my email address so freely, or meet ‘readers’ so easily.

Because you never know what nutcases are out there. Or what their hidden agenda may be.

In JV’s case, he not only invaded my privacy, he insulted me for doing nothing more than writing a review of his book - ironically the only review of his novel to appear in a major national publication.

And to add injury to insult, he feels that he’s the aggrieved party!

I tried at first to tell him to calm down and back off, but when he continued to flame me, I decided to post this message. Hopefully, by exposing his attacks publicly, he will stop.

But this incident has also taught me another valuable lesson: An author should concentrate on writing his books.

It’s very nice if hordes of readers love them and want to tell you how much they love them.

But if an author gets involved in communicating with all his readers, especially when they’re multiplying at an exponential rate like the readers of my Ramayana series, then he can often find that communication impinging on his privacy, as in the JV case.

At worst, it can disrupt his working and the very thing that earned him those readers in the first place: the writing itself.

It’s not just JV, of course.

There’s always the occasional female fan writing in to make me unmentionable proposals.

Or the strange ones who send cryptic messages that would require a team of Mensa experts to decipher.

And so many varieties and variations that it would take several pages to list them all.

In the end, though, it boils down to just one thing:

I need to write.

And that takes time, isolation and focus.

Which I can’t have if I keep corresponding with everyone.

And it especially can’t happen if the likes of JV surface from time to time, abusing the privilege of a personal email address and ranting and raving about me personally under the guise of, presumably, critiquing a critical review.

So with some regret, I’m disabling my email addresses from here on.

It means that you won’t be able to reach me by email until further notice.

And that, while you’re free to comment on any entry in this blog, including this one, I don’t promise to respond.

I’m sorry, but it’s the only way I can get my writing done, and live my life.

I wish you the very best, and remember always, I write for you.

That’s why I need to remove myself now from the public gaze, to stop giving endless interviews, sound bytes and quotes to the media, to stop maintaining lengthy email correspondences, and to stop commenting on comments on the blog.

And yes, to avoid the JVs of this world.

*I’ve removed JV’s full name and the title of his novel.