JAMIE BRITTON recommends that we all buy at least two copies of a remarkable book of poems
THE first woman to achieve the rank of inspector in the Indian Police Service investigates the discovery of a frozen corpse in the Himalayan foothills, in The Lost Man Of Bombay by Vaseem Khan (Hodder, £16.99).
It’s 1950, and it would be an understatement to say that the idea of a female inspector is not universally popular. Persis Wadia tends to get those cases which are either unlikely to be solved or potentially embarrassing to the powerful — or both. She is, however, an ambitious young officer, unwilling to allow old-fashioned prejudices to stop her building her career.
This traditional-style mystery, complete with red herrings and missed clues, is as atmospheric as you would hope, presenting an arresting and elucidating picture of early post-independence India, as the ideals of revolution bump up against home-grown reaction and the retarding legacy of imperialism.
Do frozen colonists carry the virus of empire? Why is monstrosity a great way to describe capital? Was God a dustman?
Looking for moral co-ordinates after a tough year for rational political thinking and shared human morality
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