Book Review : Before We Visit The Goddess by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

I have been a huge fan of Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni ever since I read her first book of short stories, Arranged Marriage. Sister of My Heart and The Palace of Illusions have been amongst my constant favourites among all of her books I’ve read so far.

When ‘Before we visit the Goddess’ was released I looked forward to reading it, the title intriguing me especially.

The book spans three generations of women from the same family, connected by blood but disconnected by distance and misunderstandings.
Sabitri, a strong woman who fights all odds and emerges a winner, or does she?
Sabitri’s daughter, Bela, a problem child who resents her mother and blames her for all the wrongs in her life. Is Bela justified in doing so, or not?
Sabitri’s grand daughter and Bela’s daughter, Tara, Daddy’s Girl who knows nothing about her grandmother and does not want to know her mother. Will Tara regret this distancing?
The men is their lives who keep them apart, knowingly and unknowingly.
From a small village in West Bengal all the way to distant America lives are shattered and the jagged pieces cause wounds that leave scars.

The story and writing seem haphazardly put together, like a patchwork quilt. Sadly the pieces are mismatched and don’t form a pretty picture. The story left me confused, dissatisfied and wondering if CBD had actually written it, or had it ghost written. I could not connect the title to the story either. This book lacks CBD’s trademark eloquent prose that connects you to her writing.

Here’s hoping that CBD was having a one off, after a constant string of best sellers, and is going to be back again with a bang. Soon.

#WordyWednesdays #Bar #July2015

Word Prompt
‘What’s Cooking?’

‘What’s cookin’, good lookin’?’, winked Jose, plopping down the bag of groceries on the counter. ‘Since the fragrance of oranges and cinnamon is trailing right down the street…’, she felt his grin as he kissed her neck. ‘…let me guess, your famous Spiced Orange compote?’ his hands circled her waist. She nudged him away, smiling, as she checked on her compote before she turned towards him.
‘I love the way the steam from your pots and pans curls your hair’, Jose held her face between his hands.
‘Ah! Go on, then! Don’t you have loads to do?’ she countered, the grin never leaving her face.
‘Yes, Mrs James, I surely do’ Jose gave a theatrical bow ‘and I shall’ he straightened up, grabbed her for a quick kiss and let himself out of the back door.
She stirred the compote with a dreamy look on her face
‘What’s cooking?’ she heard his voice behind her ‘is that your Spiced Orange Compote, again?’ 
She turned to look at her grimacing husband, whose eyes travelled all over the kitchen, making a visual inventory of the shelves
‘Oh well, that, with your cake, is one of the most asked for desserts in the restaurant, so should be okay.’
He scribbled something in his book.
‘What else is cooking?’ he asked, looking at his watch, and walked away as she opened her mouth to reply.

‘Betrayal, hatred and resentment’ the words danced in her thoughts.

This post has been written for the Wordy Wednesday Blog challenge