Date: 23 May 2011, 14:52
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As we witness Pran's multiple transformation, we come face to face with the realization that perhaps, just perhaps there's no real person underneath the skin and bone. Watching this beautiful butterfly morph into a moth and back again is like watching a snake shedding its skin, an ongoing process powered by nature and instinct. While "The Impressionist" is undoubtedly an impressive and intriguing novel, Kunzru may have overreached himself and the minisaga pays the price of being overwritten. In my opinion, the author seems to have bitten off more than he can chew. Apart from his tendency towards bombastic vocabulary and his occasionally awkward sentence construction, the novel also suffers from eclectic characterisation and a slightly unsteady tone. The madcap resolution in the forest between the Nawab's retinue and the colonialists dissolves into camp and farce, like a scene from "A Midsummers Night Dream". Major Privett-Clamp and his wife Charlie are cartoon characters to laugh at. The MacFarlanes are eccentrics, though I suspect I've met the demented missionary before in Matthew Kneale's "English Passengers". Star, the heartless bimbo and object of Pran's desire, is clearly the English cousin of Daisy Buchanan (from Scott Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby") from across the Atlantic. But most disappointing of all are the final chapters in Africa. Turgidly written, obscure and confusing, they are a terrible letdown. That said, don't let the overhype surrounding "The Impressionist" put you off. It may not be the realised masterpiece critics claim it is, but it is definitely worth your time reading it. Despite its poor ending, I enjoyed it immensely.
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