We're going," I said. "The reservations have been made. We've had our shots. The only question now is whether you want to see Das's stuff if it is Das and if I can secure publication rights. What do you say, Abe?" Simmons is an author among authors, and if you have never read him this is a good place to start. Song of Kali may not dazzle, but it will pique your interest and get you ready for his more daunting books (of which there are many). The author did a good job with the material provided and gave many of the characters a unique voice. As such, I would be willing to listen to another book Boyett narrated Kolkata is a city of contradictions. One side of the road would show magnificent high rises while the other has shanties and hastily put together human habitations. You travel through roads where garbage is piled high and refuse floats through large bodies of water. Turn a bend in the road and you see a tree lined pavement, well cared for houses and apartments and the road will lead you to some of the swankiest shopping malls in town. There is a mix of the old and the new, the beautiful and the repulsive & the eye catching and the forgettable. Kolkata in short thus is a replica of any other large city in the world. Dan Simmons though paints a grim portrait of this town and calls it in so many words a nest of many evils. Although Dan Simmons talks about many ancient practices of Hinduism that were rendered illegal by the insurgence of British humanitarian laws, the scope of this novel and its main focus go way beyond that. From the perspective of the Indian folklore and myths, he puts forth how the “age of Kali” (which is metaphorically synonymous to “the era of destruction”) has begun. Though the book is dark and disturbing at certain parts and the opinion of the protagonist, Luczak, is offensive towards the Hindu religion and Indian culture as a whole, the book was a good read. The main reason for this is the respect that the writer shows towards the Hindu beliefs by incorporating parts of the folklore into his storyline – the main twist was left unrevealed which may intrigue the readers enough to think about the possibility of supernatural interventions.

I think there was enough foreshadowing to give one an idea that something bad was going to happen, but you kept hoping that what you think might happen, wouldn't happen--it develops into one of those thriller-type scenarios, where you keep thinking 'Oh, watch out! be careful, don't do that!' That's the fragment of a new poem that Das is supposed to have written within the past couple of years." He has a child, a 7-month-old daughter, whose very existence serves only one unpleasant purpose. His wife's only purpose seems to be to show how stupid he is by contrast.Ya para el final la novela pareciera que volverá a remontar con una oscura búsqueda de venganza que podría aclarar las dudas y cabos sueltos que hasta ese punto nos han hecho seguir leyendo... pero no, el autor decide finalmente que su protagonista regrese a casa dejándonos con toda la interrogante de qué era lo que se ocultaba tras todo el asunto en torno a Kali. According to the Indian dialect you do not call a person Jayaprakesh. You call him Jayaprakash or Jayaprakas but not Jayaprakesh ! But any review of this book would be incomplete without a mention of how the author paints the landscape of 1970's Calcutta, which is a character in itself. Simmons spent a few days there to research the place and it shows in his vivid descriptions. He's certainly not there to portray a beautiful picture of India, this is a horror novel after all, and I was fully immersed in the evil underbelly of this important city. Its bleak and nasty and fits the tone of the story perfectly. I'm pretty sure he hasn't endeared himself to the Indian tourist board. Song of Kali" was a very interesting book. Set in the late 1970s Calcutta, it is a horror story centered around the Hindu goddess Kali. La pluma de Simmons aquí, al igual que en la mayoría de sus novelas, es magnífica, haciendo soberbias descripciones de la ciudad de Calcuta al punto que te sientes capaz de oler, sentir, ver y escuchar lo mismo que el protagonista. Sin mencionar que también hay partes de la primera mitad que te mantienen bastante enganchado y te invitan a descubrir que se oculta tras el misterioso culto a Kali y el turbio destino del poeta.

Yeah," said Abe and rotated his cigar again. He took no notice of my little performance. Abe Bronstein expected his former poetry editor to know his Greek. "Well, the only word that could describe Calcutta to me then…or now… was miasma. I can't even hear one word without thinking of the other." She patted the baby’s ruff of hair and handed her to me. I settled Victoria in the hollow of my shoulder and watched as Amrita walked to the edge of the pool and smoothed down her tan skirt. The light from the pool illuminated her sharp cheekbones from below. My wife is beautiful, I thought for the thousandth time since our wedding.Para iniciar he de decir que me encanta el estilo de Simmons, amé Hyperion, sin embargo, la trama de ésta novela deja mucho que desear. urn:oclc:875414507 Scandate 20100902002257 Scanner scribe17.sfdowntown.archive.org Scanningcenter sfdowntown Source Robert Luczak is sent by the American literary magazine Other Voices, where he works as an editor, to Calcutta to locate poetry alleged to have been recently authored by a legendary poet, M. Das. The literary world considers this development newsworthy because Das disappeared and is presumed to have died eight years ago. Robert's Indian wife, Amrita, and their infant child, Victoria, accompany him on his assignment. My last sight of Abe was of him standing there with his arm and hand extended, either in a half-wave or some mute gesture of tired resignation. I liked the 'Song of Kali'. It was a good story. I'm just not sure I'd count it as great horror. It wasn't that scary. It was definitely more psychological and mental than most. It seemed like a strange mixture of H.P. Lovecraft and Stephen King, all with a big glob of Calcutta madness and poetic mysticism.

I wasn't talking about the weather," said Abe. "Although it's the hottest, most humid, most miserable goddamn hellhole I've ever been in. Worse than Burma in '43. Worse than Singapore in typhoon weather. Jesus, it's worse than Washington in August. No, Bobby, I'm talking about the place, goddammit. There was something…something miasmal about that city. I've never been in a place that seemed as mean or shitty, and I've spent time in some of the great sewer cities of the world. Calcutta scared me, Bobby." Though this specific view might have been quite representative of a Westerner's impression of Calcutta at that point in time, I do feel that Mr Simmons could have added a few of the more positive aspects of Hindu culture to balance out the negative aspects that are represented especially by for instance the Kali cults that feature in this narrative. Abe, it's all set," I said. "We're leaving next week." I hesitated a moment. "They're paying very well and covering all expenses," I added. Yeah, I remember," said Abe. "I stayed with you and Amrita for a couple of days in your Boston apartment when the New England Poets' Alliance held that commemorative reading for him. You read some of Tagore's stuff, and excerpts from Das's epic poems about what'shername, the nun—Mother Teresa."He was. He is. Not sentimental but optimistic." It was the same phrase I'd used many times to defend Tagore. Hell, it was the same phrase I'd used to defend my own work. Abe had a point. Not many people had heard of Robert C. Luczak in 1977, despite the fact that Winter Spirits had received half a column of review in the Times. Still, I hoped that what people—especially the few hundred people who counted— had heard was promising. " Harper's thought of me because of that piece I did in Voices last year," I said. "You know, the one on Bengali poetry. You said I spent too much time on Rabindranath Tagore." I found the claustrophobic, filthy and sinister atmosphere of Calcutta, well described. I could almost smell the city while reading. I felt the city’s humidity and the frenzy of all the unfortunate and fortunate people living there.