Today we’re going to delve into a book that I have often seen at bookstores, but didn’t think to pick up until I found it at a book sale over the summer.

This book, which cost me a mere dollar, was Aravind Adiga’s The White Tiger, a story about a low-caste man born and raised in India’s “darkness.”

I will admit, I was very hesitant to read this one because I didn’t think that I’d find the story of a man in India all that exciting (or relatable either.) However, unlike when I read Dave Egger’s A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius (which I picked up based on the cover, thinking it would be good – boy was I disappointed) I was pleasantly surprised.

The book is narrated by the protagonist, Balram, in letters addressed to the leader of China, who is to visit India. The letters are broken into seven parts, told over a week while Balram gets ready for work each night. Over the nights, Balram reveals his upbringing in poverty, through his time as a driver for a wealthy family and then his eventual escape.

One aspect I loved about this book was that Balram immediately said he was a wealthy entrepreneur at the start of his tale, and that he had committed a murder at some point in his past. These aspects were interesting hooks that can very rarely be used properly to set the tone for a novel and still not ruin the plotline (just as mentioning them here does not actually work as spoiling any of the plotline outside of the first pages.)

Adiga’s writing thoroughly paints a graphic image of India’s poor regions, cities and people. The narrative of Balram was enjoyable, as he came to learn more about his own country and the corruption of power there, it felt as if he was sharing something new with the reader and not expecting a great deal of knowledge about the region to already be known.

In conclusion, this is a novel I highly recommend, even if you have to pay full price for it. The building intensity and intelligence of the narrator throughout the story makes it hard to put the book down, and leaves fantastic images of a country far different from our own in your mind.

Author’s note: Damn you Dave Eggers, and your brutally depressing memoire. I’ve only found one person who agrees that your book was overhyped so far, but don’t you think for a minute I’ve given up. I want my $20 back for all the time lost reading your book! Send me a cheque, and please encourage Dan Brown to also send me some money, as I have not yet heard from him or his bankroll.