Books close the gap

I read Vikas Swarup's engrossing Q & A yesterday (you know the movie as "Slumdog Millionaire," 2008's Best Picture winner). It was fairly short--I read it in six hours--but I really enjoyed it, much more than the movie. "Slumdog Millionaire" wasn't bad, but I didn't get out to see it until after it won the Oscar. By that point there had been so much hype that disappointment was inevitable, and all I remember now is leaving the theater with unmet expectations. (Don't worry, no spoilers here. As if you don't already know how it ends.)

The book is composed of several vignettes. Each chapter is essentially a short story unto itself, with a "And thus I knew the answer to the next question" denouement for each. This gives the story much less narrative direction than in the movie. Whereas the movie revolves around Jamal's (he's called Ram in the book) quest for his elusive beloved, Latika, there is no such controlling idea in the novel.

I actually preferred the scattered plot. Ram sometimes refers back--or even occasionally ahead, since the chapters are not totally in chronological order--to people and events from other chapters, but few characters actually reappear. This means that the reader is left alone with Ram and his thoughts for most of the story. As a result, you feel a pathos for the youth, one born of longevity, that is impossible to reproduce onscreen. In conjunction with Ram's itinerant ways, that lends the novel a picaresque flavor.

Ultimately, I closed the book satisfied; as mentioned above, though, the movie was disappointing above all else. Current score: Books 2, Movies 3. Next up on my list is Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens. This will be a formidable adversary, I think, and I eagerly await the battle.