Lounge
The year in books: Hits and misses of 2024
Summary
Indian English-language publishing faces an identity crisis, with readers favouring international bestsellers over homegrown talent. Despite these challenges, 2024 saw the release of several remarkable Indian books
In a recent post on the social media platform X, a leading Indian publisher bemoaned the dwindling fortunes of English-language fiction in the country. Despite the proliferation of books from India, readers still prefer international bestsellers or classics—that was the essence of her message. What were Indian publishers doing wrong, she asked.
This is not a novel complaint; it’s been aired for more than a decade by a range of stakeholders both inside and outside the industry. First, the culprit was the lack of readers in an age of constant distraction. Then came the woes of bookstores closing shutters. Paper prices and increased levies led to a steep rise of unit cost of production per title, followed by the monopoly of e-tailers that destroyed the business model. Now, with each passing year, the lament teeters on the brink of panic.
Also read: ‘Younger people have a different narrative on Israel now,’ says Joe Sacco
While it’s not fair to offer generalisations based on anecdotal evidence, there isn’t much else in terms of empirical data to arrive at solid insights on the state of English-language publishing in India. The Nielsen survey, which is the closest indicator of market health, is far from exhaustive. Spots sell at a premium on the bestseller lists put together by airport retailers. Independent bookshops, some of which have vested interests (either because they have publishing imprints of their own or run agencies), cannot be trusted.
Even the most desperate optimist living inside the bubble of Bookstagram and BookTube will not deny that it’s far from hunky dory. If a new indie bookshop opens in the hood, you can count on a loyal handful to dutifully show up and lighten their wallets—though the business acumen of seemingly smart establishments remains questionable.
In yet another recent social media outburst, a different publisher raised red flags after she was allegedly snubbed by the proprietors of a much-loved indie bookstore. Her crime? She had asked for a mass-market title that would, as she was led to believe by the staff, never make it across the threshold of their fiercely gate-kept premises. Not a wise business decision to alienate a potential customer—and many others like her, who aren’t so uppity about their reading tastes.
Last, but not least, there’s that beast called book marketing. From misspelling names of authors on press emails, to ghosting critics on review copies, to the regular misplacing of said copies (India’s postal system seems to have a special aversion to delivering books), to forgetting to change the name of recipient in emails meant for mass circulation (I have lost count the number of times I have been addressed as Neha on said emails), it’s a flood of faux pas that’s hard to stem.
Also read: Review of Saurabh Kirpal's ‘Who is Equal’: A return to first principles
And so, in this land of ever-mushrooming lit festivals, multiple literary prizes (a few offering serious cash prizes), several residencies and aspiring writers galore, we have a peculiar situation where English language books written by Indians seem to be read, talked about, and bought only by a minority. These are most likely denizens of social media bubbles, not your average Jane and Joe who read a book a month (if that) and give some thought before they make that purchase.
Unless English language publishing breaks out of this ‘of the few, by the few, for the few’ mould, the good work done by a small minority of smart writers, fine editors, bright publicists and visionary booksellers will be all but lost. It is to the exceptional labour of this shrinking tribe of crusaders for quality, integrity and excellence that we owe some of the best books of 2024.
In search of an identity
As a reader and critic, the essence of English-language publishing in India in 2024 was captured for me in four syllables: identity.
Some of the best titles, fiction and non-fiction, this year grappled with the shifting shades of identitarian politics with rigour and acuity, with Zara Chowdhary’s memoir,
The Lucky Ones
(Westland) being undoubtedly, the finest to have emerged this year in India.
Set against the 2002 anti-Muslim pogrom in Gujarat, it is a harrowing portrait of a society crumbling before a 16-year-old Muslim girl, growing up in a family scarred by its own schisms, in Ahmedabad. It’s required reading for all, no matter which end of the political spectrum you are at.
Rahul Bhatia’s The Identity Project: The Unmaking of A Democracy (Westland) explores the political backdrop against which the meaning of being Indian has evolved in the last decade. While deeply reported, it’s one of the many books I read this year that could have benefited from a stronger editorial intervention, the other being The Many Lives of Syeda X: The Story of an Unknown Indian (Juggernaut) by Neha Dixit. Yet again a feat of painstaking reporting, the book follows the eponymous Syeda and her quest for subsistence in a nation that has no empathy for people like her and their struggles.
In a related terrain, Rakshanda Jalil’s Love in the Time of Hate (Simon & Schuster) uses Urdu poetry to explore the idea of patriotism—in the primal sense of love for one’s country—and the layers it has accrued over time. From the Partition to the Babri Masjid demolition to cow slaughter to love jihad, she offers unique perspectives into the traffic between life and literature, especially their roles in defining the Self and Other within India’s secular framework.
Also read: Zara Chowdhary's ‘The Lucky Ones’: Living and dying as ‘second-class’ citizens
Manu S. Pillai’s Gods, Guns and Missionaries: The Making of the Modern Hindu Identity (Penguin Random House India) complicates the discourse of identity by returning to the roots of Hinduism—the myriad influences it has absorbed from centuries of civilisational clashes. It gives an intellectually sound, but engaging, account of the emergence of a militant Hindu identity in 21st-century India, especially the ramifications it has had over politics and decision-making.
The global and the local
In a pleasing diversion from books written as fictional equivalents of Lonely Planet guides for non-Indian readers (Quarterlife by Devika Rege, published last year, comes dangerously close to this cliche, despite its many superior talents), India had two stellar novels in 2024 that reflect deeply on the larger shifting currents of the human condition—and identity politics as well.
Saharu Nusaiba Kannanari’s Chronicle of an Hour and a Half (Westland) is set in Vaiga, a rural outpost on India’s Western Ghats, where literal and metaphorical storms destroy the moral fabric of society. On a day of ceaseless rain and flooding, a scandal erupts in the village, involving a Muslim youth and a married woman, fanned by online hatred and spread across the concentric circles of hell that are WhatsApp groups. What starts off as a rumour ends in tragedies when festering resentments turn into conflagrations.
Upamanyu Chatterjee’s Lorenzo Searches for the Meaning of Life (Speaking Tiger) is an unexpected gem from a gifted writer, who has, till date, remained best known for his debut, English, August. In this strange tale, mostly set in a Benedictine monastery, he gives us a glimpse into the life of his unlikely protagonist, the eponymous Lorenzo, whose spiritual journey parallels his adventures in the real world. Kudos to the publisher, Speaking Tiger, for taking a bet on such an oddball.
Speaking Tiger also brought to us Sujit Saraf’s slim novel, Island, which is set in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, focusing on the lives of the tribes of the North Sentinel Island, who had remained uncontactable and isolated for centuries, until an American missionary called John Allen Chau broke all protocol by attempting to convert them in 2018. It’s a powerful morality tale, told through the perspective of a distinctly unheroic protagonist, a disgraced Kashmiri anthropologist called Nirmal Chandra Mattoo, with a lethal ending. The question of ‘who is an Indian?’ rings loudly through its pages too.
Finally, the two books that unfurled the question of identity from an intersectional feminist lens were Airplane Mode: An Irreverent History of Travel (Westland) by Shahnaz Habib and At Home in India: Stories, Memoirs, Portraits, Interviews (Women Unlimited) by none other than Qurratulain Hyder (edited and translated from the original Urdu by Fatima Rizvi and Sufia Kidwai).
Habib’s stylish personal history intersects with her experience of being a modern-day nomad, a Muslim woman, and overcoming the woes of carrying an Indian passport—a document that grounds her as well as fills her with trepidation. It’s funny, acerbic and sharp at once, a book that makes globe-trotting Indians think about the perils and privileges of being who they are.
Also read: 'Gods, Guns and Missionaries' excerpt: When Jesuits met devils and monsters in India
Hyder, of course, is resplendent with her hydra-headed genius: a raconteur par excellence, a historian of a vanishing ethos, crisp and cutting, even while delivering the saddest eulogy to the flagging spirit of secular India.
As long as books as fine as these are being published, English language publishing in India has a fighting chance to thrive and prosper. It’s a question of fixing the holes that remain—not with the Band-Aid of good intentions but with diligence, creativity and a robust work ethic.
HERE’S LOOKING AT YOU 2025
Books on our radar next year
Memoirs by Madhabi Mukherjee (translated from the Bengali by Arunava Sinha; Bloomsbury India): A legendary actor from Bengali cinema’s golden years, best known for being Satyajit Ray’s muse in the iconic ‘Charulata’, offers a candid view into the struggles and successes of her life and career.
Rising Sons by Kavery Nambisan (Penguin Random House India): An ambitious saga set in pre-independence India, this novel from one of India’s most distinguished writers tracks the evolution of caste, gender and class in an intergenerational family living in rural Karnataka.
Wild Fictions by Amitav Ghosh (HarperCollins India): A collector’s item, this volume gathers the veteran author’s essays on the themes of migration, climate crisis, and environmentalism, literature and more.
Thoo! By Aathma Nirmala Dious (Hachette India): A sci-fi novel folded into a murder mystery, this debut comes trailing tall promises, exploring the lives of Malayali expats in Abu Dhabi.
Test Cricket by Tim Wigmore (Hachette India): Although it is no longer considered as glamorous as shorter formats, Test cricket has had a resilient run since 1877. As we approach its 150th anniversary, this volume is the first of its kind to take a historical look at the evolution of the form, while combining it with interviews and opinions from some of its greatest players.
Unknown City by Amitava Bagchi (HarperCollins India): A new novel from one of India’s finest writers is always an occasion to look forward to. But the curiosity grows even stronger when he brings back Arindam Chatterjee, the protagonist of his much-beloved first novel Above Average, to reckon with the shifts of middle age.
Rice, Miso Soup, Pickles by Yoshiharu Doi (Hachette India): In this unusual cookbook, a Japanese chef teaches you to make delicious, nutritious and inventive dishes using simple ingredients. Instead of complicated methods, you have a bevy of recipes to make mealtimes calm, peaceful and stress-free. A volume about the art of Japanese cuisine as well as how its approach is integrated into the minimalist aesthetics and philosophy of the nation.
