Monsoons and Potholes - Manuka Wijesinghe

The Book cover, which resembles a newspaper article carries a sub-heading and an introduction. The sub-heading states "A mad, bad, irreverent account of growing up in Sri Lanka", while the  Introduction says "The trials & tribulations of the heroine in tandem with the country's slippery progressive on the road to nowhere". These two statements are  quite accurate as an insight into the book. It is a mad, at times hilarious - hilarious since it presents accurately at most times, just how trying growing up in Sri Lanka can be. This is not to say that the heroine didn't have an enjoyable time of it. She did - largely; except when she didn't. That, when the country suffered as a whole. Largely due to the lack of statesmanship. Some of the parts, are quite illuminating as a commentary on the country's woes.

"'It is easy to put all the blame on the language, but it is wrong to put the blame only on language. Do you know children, that when the British left, after one hundred and fifty years of colonization, only six percent of the population spoke English?' Sharon and I nodded out heads in disbelief. We had been taught to believe that we lived in the most literate country in south-east Asia." (  pages 344-5)

" I will read to you what the great Mahatma Gandhi once said at the Indian Parliament, ' No Cabinet worthy of being representative of a large mass of mankind can afford to take any step merely because it is likely to win the hasty applause of an unthinking public. In the midst of insanity, should not our best representatives retain sanity and bravely prevent a wreck of the ship of state under their care? She re-read it, and emphasised the words worthy, hasty, unthinking, insecurity and care." ( page 345 )

Yet, the book shouldn't be taken in total as a political commentary. The author has pushed the much to be desired political situation to the back ground across most of the book. The politics surface only when the author has to stress a point. There are pages and pages of satire, on how Mrs. Bandaranayake governed the country. Just one small passage should suffice as a demonstration:

"She came like a seven-year itch. Mrs. Bandaranayake, the widow. A phoenix from her husband's funeral pyre. She held a nation and its people hostage for the termination of her husband's life. SWRD, her husband, was killed because karma had turned off the switch,  not because of anything else.. But, in death he did more harm than he had in life. He had cloned his political myopia and distributed it among his political progeny." ( Page 76)

But more than this criticism, the humour of day to day affairs is more appealing, more so since we can relate to the everyday climate in which this daily chaos unfolds to. Again, one example should suffice, when our heroine's mother attempted to rid the "genetic malfunction of English language due to karmic connection to my father and his sisters."

"Miss Manel White Ratnayake could extend the English alphabet beyond its twenty six letters. Her words never ended and her sentences flowed like streams, never encountering drought. Occasionally, like an amphibian requiring a shot of oxygen, she would pout her lips and emerge from the stream of words to articulate a word beginning with an 'O', then dive inside and swim further. I suffered facial muscle exhaustion learning elocution under Miss White Ratnayake." ( Page 55)

The book concludes, in the aftermath of  5-6 years from the 1983 riots, with certain incidents in that time of collective insanity, causing the climax of the novel.The last 30-40 pages are deeply moving, and questions the collective sanity of us as a people. Gone are the joyous rambling story of growing up in Sri Lanka, as ugly episodes take the center stage.

 I have been told that "Theravada Man" is the sequel of this book. Given that I enjoyed this book considerably, I will probably make time for that book too ( possibly next year - yet, the good read reviews don't rate Theravada Man as highly as this). The book running to a hefty 370+ pages, isn't at all times a page turner despite it's near relation to our lives.  The book covers a period, roughly from the mid sixties to the late eighties. It is very "Sri Lankan" in its  style of narration, and the use of language ( e.g. Tissa Abeysekara, Shehan Karunatilaka ).

In conclusion, there were two references that I was surprised to find.
1- A reference to a Mukunuwanna sandwich. Repulsive to read, and probably infernal to eat.
"I bit into my transparent Mukunuwenna sandwich. Two tissue paper thin slices of bread held together with a mukunuwenna and green chilli mass, no butter, no margarine.It was repulsive!" ( page 72 ). No doubt about that.
2- A reference to Dengue in the early eighties and how the then Prime Minister fought it.
"Aunty Lydia had sent my grandmother a new book on disease. 'Siri siri' bags did not breed dengue. 'Siri siri' bags breed the mosquito that spread dengue. A new sickness had come since our left to the centre republic started its walk to the right.... Mosquitoes were the winners in JR's road to the right, even though we humans thought that we were the winners by consuming everything plastic."
(pages 275-6)
  "The dengue lessened like magic.
 The same prime minister who dredged the canal and built the orange overhead bridge eradicated dengue. It had been easier than building bridges or dredging canals. He only had to smile at the municipal workers and they cleaned the garbage. Without garbage, there was no dengue"
(page 279)
Maybe those of who, who were at an age more likely to be  aware or knowledgeable about the times, could add a comment on this, for we have been struggling with dengue for years now, with no remedy. It is also good to recall Premadasa's all implying smile, which got things done in double quick time. Boy, have we been going down hill since then ? I must concede that in that context the MR years were  relatively better, when compared to what we saw since Premadasa, and after MR's exit - the less said about the last two and a half years of embarrassment that we Sri Lankans live in, the better.

So, in conclusion, if you do get the chance, do read this book. It is an enjoyable read, and very closer to "home" in more than one sense, and  Manuka's overall tone of sarcasm and mockery, keeps the reader entertained.

The Road - Cormac McCarthy

"When the flood calls
You have no home, you have no walls
In the thunder crash
You're a thousand minds, within a flash
Don't be afraid to cry at what you see

The actors gone, there's only you and me
And if we break before the dawn, they'll
use up what we used to be."
                        ( "Here Comes the Flood" - Peter Gabriel )

      A father and son, head towards the Coast in a burnt out, ash covered, desolate America. Surviving each day is a challenge and achievement. Food is so scarce, in a barren land that cannibalism is the norm by the roaming gangs, from whom the father has to protect his son, and himself - his son's only source of security. The cause for the literally apocalyptic disaster is not mentioned, but the reader needn't worry about the past - his hands are full, with the father and son, in their battle to save themselves from the rain, the freezing cold, the cannibalistic gangs and starvation. Haggard, Dirty, Sick and Depressed, the father has no option but to be precise with his mental faculties, each minute. He would rather shoot his son, than let the gangs get him - so much so, he teaches his son how to shoot himself. A painless death is always preferred to suffering - the relative options, even luxuries that a desolate America offers its survivors. Their was once a woman. His woman; the boy's mother. She leaves them unable to handle the inevitable, electing to suffer by herself, rather than see what befalls her family.

"No, I'm speaking the truth. Sooner or later they will catch us and they will kill us. They will rape me. They'll rape him. They are going to rape us and kill us and eat us and you wont face it. You'd rather wait for this to happen. But I cant. I cant . . .. We used to talk about death, she said. We dont anymore. Why is that?

I dont know.

It's because it's here. There's nothing left to talk about." ( Page 56 )



This novel is about survival. About  invoking hope out of nothing, when it is even prudent to die by your own hands, fast and with minimum pain. Yet life is all we have, and the love for life, especially that of your child, against whom your own meters down to a relative insignificance. The author has conveyed these sentiments in the most driest, harrowing way possible. The author's overall dry narration style, with the emotions presented in glimpses suitable for a movie rather than a novel - with details on burned up cottages, barns, basements, trees work on the reader to visualise and live through this land of hopelessness. It is exactly that which the author has tried. He has not attempted to show the beginning of the disaster, or leave much hope by the closure. His attempt appear to be make the reader a silent, invisible third person, party to the battling father and son. "Live through this", he appears to be saying.  The author's narration style reminded me the minimalist style of Coetzee and Hemingway - more the former, because of the bleakness of hope each page grows on the former. When the father and son has an occasional windfall - which is discovering some food in a basement missed by the roaming gangs - the reader feels that he or she too, takes a dip into the precious can of peaches.

Yet some of the form that the author uses, needs a little getting used to - and I might need up to his second book for that. "Can't" and "Don't" for McCartney is just "cant" and "dont". Dialogues are part of the flow with no quotes. Attention to finer detail in replacing a wheel of the cart, is more emphasised than the words spent on capturing the mindset of the father or the boy. These aren't misses, but intended nuances of style which define the work of the author, who for all the straight forwardness in narration, needs a little getting used to. But the author painted so vivid a picture in my mind, that I knew that I just have to watch the movie based on this book.

Stories - Charulatha Abeysekara Thewarathanthri

"Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned?
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?

The rainstorm and the river are my brothers
The heron and the otter are my friends
And we are all connected to each other
In a circle, in a hoop that never ends"
                               ( Colors of the Wind - Vanessa Williams ; from the "Pocahontas" soundtrack )


 "Nature's cycle. Beginning, peace, coexistence, awakening intellect. Then comes development, always disorderly. Followed by greed and finally destruction... And Destruction... And begin again! Take humans out of the equation, and it would  always be peaceful coexistence.

So nature spirits have always been there? Since time began ?

Yes, always. But, time didn't begin, and it'll never end. It has no beginning or end... because it's just a concept in your mind. Do you understand?" ( Page 94)

            It will be interesting to ask the author, what made the paranormal, presented in such a way that it cannot be rejected by the most adhering rationalist character in her  Gratiaen Award winning novel, such a prime focus! The book, starting off similar to a string of modern day Sri Lankan English fiction ( girl and boy from mixed backgrounds, bumping to each other at a foreign university, going back to their Sri Lankan roots, the ethnic crisis, how one party or both parties are to be blamed depending on the author's own ethnicity and how much 'broad minded' he or she wants to appear etc.). Yet, there is one factor which makes this book different from others. It is the magic and the paranormal. It brings in the mystery, the beauty, the suspicion, a sense of age old unfathomable wisdom that totally changes the book on it's head - importantly, from another novel with an appeal to generation Y, to something more richer, murkier and complete by it's incompleteness of its explanations. It begs the question, "why should the paranormal behave in a manner, to be comprehensible by the rational, simply because the lattes wants the former, to?", within the grain of the novel integrated seamlessly into the novel.

Towards page 200, pieces in the jig saw fall into place in too rapid a rate that it discounts some of the richness in the narration the book had been building up until then. In my eyes, this sense of urgency is a drawback in this work, and should've been handled with more circumspection, to avoid a "Bollywood" feel to an otherwise good work.

This novel has strands of everything - ethnic politics, mystery, feudal mindset, ecology - and hence it's richness. For example, the naïvety of  a man or woman's convictions are  questioned,  in such a manner  that the reader would turn back on him or her self with the same question. 

"She was beginning to see the real reasons behind her actions, and she did not like what she saw. She had taken the child like reclaiming a lost asset. Simply because she had a right to, because she could. Not out of love for the child but to soothe the maddening grief she had felt then. True, she did love Poddi's child; she had grown more and more attached to the girl as the years went by. But she could not, would not, risk her own children's future for her niece's sake, simply because she loved them more." ( page 182) 
Even Muthu questions herself if her acts of selflessness were in fact efforts to rid herself of a burden. Did Muthu wish for a normal childhood deep down then ?

This is just her second novel, and am sure it would've made her famous father, proud. The strengths, the beauty and the wonder of her work, out measure instances of weaknesses. I enjoyed this book immensely, and wouldn't hesitate to read her future work. I wish Charulatha all the very best in her future work!

මා කියවූ "හඳ පළුව තනි තරුව"

ඒ දෙදහස් දහහතර වසරේ මැදක් ය. ඒ, විට විදෙස් ගත

ව සිටි මා  නිවාඩුවට ලංකාවට පැමිනි කලක ය. දරුවන් ට වන්නියේ ඇත්තන් මුණගැස්වීමේ උවමනාවෙන්, මහියංගනයට විත් මාපාකඩ වැව අසල නවතැනක දින 2-3 ගත කලෙමු. මාපාකඩවැව කී පමණින් කුමක් දෝ කාරණාවක් ගැඹුරු මතකයෙන් කිති කැව්ව ද, නැවත කොළඹ එනකං ඒ නිශ්ශංක විජේමාන්නයන්ගේ නිවෙස ආශ්‍රිත පෙදෙස යැයි මතක් නොවිණි (ඔහුගේ පැරණි කෘති වල ලිපිනයේ මාපාකඩවැව යැයි සඳහන් විණ.). එහි විසූ එක් දිනෙක රාත්‍රියේ මයියංගන සෑ රදුන් වඳින්න ට ගිය ද, එදින බුද්ධ චීවරයට අපහාසයක් වන චීවරදාරියෙක් සමඟ එහි පැමිණි සිටි "සේනාවක්" නිසා එම කටයුතු, මට හැකි පමණ සැදැහැ සිතින් කරගත නොහැකි විය. ඔවුන් මයියංගනේට කඩා වදින්න ට ඇත්තේ  එහි තිබූ සුළු නොසන්සුන්තාවයක් අවුලන්න ට විය යුතුය.  ඒ 2014 දී ය.ඔය සේනා පාලනය නොකිරීම එක් හේතුවක් කොට ගෙන එවක පැවති රජය, 2015 දී පරා ද වී, එතෙක් පටන් රට ට ම හෙණයක් වූ පාණ්ඩුවක් වැළඳී ඇත. මෙහි එන දේශපාලන අදහස් මගේ පෞද්ගලික ඒවා ය.  ඔය කියනා කාලය වන විට විජේමාන්නයන් මේ රචනාවේ නිරත වන්න ට ද ඇත. මේ කෘතිය කිය වූ බොහෝ අය මෙය වර්තමාන සංහිඳියා උමතුව මත පිහිටා ලියූවක් බව පවසයි. මට ඉන් ඔබ්බට ගිය යමක් සිතේ. විජේමාන්නයන් තම මුළු දිවිය ම හෝ ඉන් බොහෝ කලක් හෝ මයියන්ගනේ විසූවෙක් යැයි සිතමි. ජෙලාබ්දීන් ගේ කෙටි කථාව මට මතක විදිහට තිබ්බේ "මුවා මැරූ සලමන්" කෘතියේ ය ( මා වැරදි විය හැක ). ඉතින් විජේමාන්නයන් ට තම පෙදෙසේ සිහළුන් සහ මුසල්මානුවන් කෙසේ විසූවේදැයි යන්න පිළිබඳ සෑහෙන තරමක අදහසක් තිබෙන්න ට ඇත. ඔහු අනෙක් ඉතිහාසය සොයා හදාරන්නට ඇත. ඒ අනුව කිවුලේගෙදර මොහොට්ටාල, දෙවෙනි රාජසිංහ, ෆලීල් සහ මයියංගන පෙරහරේ හිස් දෝලාව ගැන කථාවන් ඔහු ට උත්තේජනය වන්න ට ඇත. අනෙකා හා බොහෝ කලක් එකට විසූ අයට තම ජාතියේ අයගේ නොපනත්කම් ලජ්ජාවට කාරණාවකි ( මාත් සමඟ පාසලේ සිට අද දක්වා ගජ මිතුරු මුස්ලිම් මිතුරන් ඉදිරියේ ඔය කියන සේනාවන් සිටීම මට ලජ්ජාවකි - ඔවුන්ට මා ඉදිරියේ ගිනි මද්දහනේ කළු ඇඳන් ගමන් කරන ගෝනි බිල්ලන් ලජ්ජාවකි ).ඉතින් මට සිතෙන්නේ විජේමාන්නයන්ගේ මේ කෘතිය දැන් සිදුවන හිස් සංහිඳියා ව්‍යාපාරයේ කොටසක් ලෙස ට නොව, තම ප්‍රදේශය උවදුරකින් බේරා ගැනීමට ලේඛකයකු ලෙස ගත් අවංක උත්සාහයක් ලෙසට ය. ඔහු ගේ සහජ ලේඛණ කෞශල්‍යය ඉදිරියේ එය බොහෝ දුරට සාර්ථක ය.

කොඑලොගේ "Veronica Decides to Die" කෘතිය මතකය ට නගමින්, මෙහි විජේමාන්නයන් ද එක් සුළු චරිතයකි. චාරුලේඛනයෙන් නවකතාවක ට ආභාෂයක් දෙන්න ට ගත් උත්සාහයක් ලෙස දෝ, කථනයේ විසිරුණු බවක් ඇත. නවකතාව බැඳ තබන ප්‍රේම කතාව තරමක් පැණිරසෙන් අධික යැයි පෞද්ගලිකව සිතුන ද, එය නොසැලකිය හැකි ආරේ දොසකි (එය දොසක් නම්, අයෙකු ට එය එසේ නොවිය හැකිය) . නවකතාව කියවාගෙන ඉදිරියට යාමේදි පලමු පිටු 50-60 දී මෙය සංහිඳියා ව්‍යාපෘතියේ නිෂ්පාදනයක් දෝ යැයි සැක මතු නොවී නොතිබුණ ද, ප්‍රාදේශීය ඉතිහාස කතා එම සැකය තුරන් කරන සුළුය.

නිර්මාණයේ දී, ලේඛකයා ඉස්ලාම් දර්ශනය සහ සංස්කෘතිය බොහෝ සෙයින් හදරා ඇත. ඔහු එය සුදුසු මාත්‍රා වලින් නවකතාව ට ඔබ්බවා ඇත. තැනෙක ඔහු එකඟ නොවෙතැයි සිතෙන තැනක් වුව, ඉදිරිපත් කොට ඇත්තේ ඉතා සූක්ෂමවය. ඔහු කිසිදු පාර්ශවයක ට අගතිගාමි වී නැත. ඉන් නිරූපනය වන්නේ තමන් වෙත සියළු පාර්ශවයන්ගේ විශ්වාසය පිළිබඳ සැක නැති බවයි.
"ඉතිං අබ්දුල් මාමා අම්මගේ ඒ කියමන තදින් බාර ගත්තා. එයා නැවත අම්මා ළඟට ආවේ නැහැ. 'ගැහැනුන් නුඹලාගේ කෙත්වතුය, රිසි සේ එහි යන්න.' කීවට ඔහු එය නැවැත්වුවා..." ( 161 පිටුව )

තැනෙක එන දාර්ශනික අදහස් ඉතා ඉහළ ඒවාය
"ජීවියෙක් එයා බිහිකරන කෙනාගෙන් වෙන්වුනාම එයා අයිති සොබාදහමට. ඒකයි ඇත්ත. අපි විශේෂයෙන් මිනිස්සු මේ ඇත්ත වෙනුවට සංස්කෘතියක් හදාගන්නවා. අම්මා, තාත්තා, ආදරේ, ජාතිය, ඔය කතන්දර ඔක්කොම හංද අපේ බැඳීම අපව අහුරනවා." (175 පිටුව )

මා මෙතෙක් විජේමාන්නයන්ගේ කියවූ කිසිදූ කෘතියක් පිළිබඳ නොසෑහීමක්  නොවීය ( වැලන්ටයින් කුමරා කියවීමට ඉතිරි ව ඇත. ) ලේඛකයකු ලෙස ඔහු වෙත ඇති විශ්වාසය තවත් තහවුරු විය. ස්වර්ණ පුස්තක අවසන් වටයට තේරුණු කෘති අතරින් මා කියවූ පළමු කෘතිය මෙයයි. එය එසේ අවසන් වටයට තේරීමට සුදුසු කෘතියකැයි හඟිමි. ගොඩගේ අවසන් වටයට කෘති දහය අතර මෙය නොතිබීම ගැන පුදුම වෙමි. සැම අතින්ම කියවීමට සුදුසු කෘතියක් යැයි සිතෙන අතර, ලේඛකයා, තම ගම් බිම් ප්‍රදේශය පිළිබඳ මහ දැනුම් සම්භාරයක් ඇත්තෙකු බවත් ඒ පිළිබඳ පිළිසඳරක් කරන්න ට හැකි නම් එය වාසනාවට කාරණාවක් බවත් සිතේ.

The Doomed King: A Requiem for Sri Vikrama Rajasinha - Gananath Obeyesekere

On the outset, it must be told that if  Gananath Obeysekara's  (GO )  appeared in somewhat poor light over his questioning of Dutta Gamini Buddhist conscience  (largely thanks to the superb response he received in the hands of Ishanka Malsiri ), he has here shown his mettle to such a degree, that I couldn't help the arising of some respect for him. I am  not naive enough to claim, that GO is  partial, while I am objective -Far from it, (I honestly feel that objectivity is a somewhat distant characteristic to us, and at the ultimate it is associated with the Buddhist concept of equanimity),  but he presents historiography evidences to portray that Sri Vikrama was hardly the villain he was painted to be. That  British designs, and naivety of the Sinhala nobility are what causes the king to be painted in that context.   As such,  Obeysekara builds a case for how English interests painted a very evil picture of Sri Vickrama Rajasinha, that the reader is almost willing to let go of whatever soft corners he or she  may have had for the Kandyan Nobiity, especially Ahalepola. Speaking of Ahalepola, a recent a near masterpiece of a novel by the late Sinhala Guru, Susantha Mahaulpatha, presented what we were inclined to believe as a realistic and impartial account of him. Well, things have changed. Not only does GO convince me that the barbaric manner in which Ahalepola's wife and children were executed was fabricated, I can't help but question as to why he didn't attempt to save them. GO has his own biases, and possible designs, but he builds a strong case for his main argument.

   GO shows how Doyle was the  master strategist, the master spy who systematically won the nobility over and isolated the king. In typical GO fashion ( that we clearly saw when he questioned Gemunu's conscience ), not fearing to transcend the borders of historical fact ( does the anthropologist have that license; maybe he does ? ), he even questions D'Oyly's sexuality as he explores D'Oyly exhaustively with whatever resources he has at his disposal, plus travelling that extra mie to suggest something when there is no proof. .If this book is a Requiem for Sri Vikrama, it is also a tacit admission of D'Oyly's success - albeit a backhand compliment - in achieving what he set out to achieve, almost "going native" in the process, as some of his colleagues thought.

""one must recognize that in our our times the D'Oylys of the world are omnipresent in the modern intelligence services where highly trained men and women with impeccable academic qualifications and knowledge of the local languages and culture are involved in what can degenerate into a nefarious trade. D'Oyly was one of it's earliest representations and ii is his spy system that was instrumental in the dissolution of the last kingdom in February 1815..." ( page 110)

GO makes a very valid observation of  the plight of the Kandyan kingdom:
"In Dutch times kings had some access to ports and during North;s regime Sri Vikrama was willing to make important concessions to the British if he was given access to a few small ports. We have noted how North rudely rebuffed these requests. The suffocation of Kandyan trade meant that even basic commodities needed by villages, such as salt and dried fish were no longer easily available and some people even had to barter their rice for salt." ( page 125). In this context it can easily be assumed what kind of influence D'Oyly would've carried in getting across some of the subtle luxuries the nobility would've been used to all along.

The Anti-Tamil Venom:  . The anti-Tamil virulence of Kirala Sandesaya and Ahalepola Varnanava are the main articles to present a case of an Anti-Tamilness of the times, and they are thought to be written about the time that the king was captured.  It appears that the "Tamil" factor was highlighted once it was decided that Sri Vikrama Rajasinha was a persona non-grata; the king who was almost divine in the Ingrisi Hatana has become so over a decade and a little. This  "invented Tamilness" was something that the authors of these works ( if they are that ) used, to add to the picture of negativity of the king, rather than a common anti-tamilness that the public had as a whole. Note that the the term Tamil was synonymous with "enemy" even those days, with even the Portuguese being labelled Tamil ( even GO  concedes this). After all, in a climate where most of the development work the king carried out has been concocted to give the king evil credentials, would the authors of these poems stop short of dragging an ethnic back ground to make the readers feel the king was  cruel ?  In that sense I felt that GO should've identified the anti-Tamil sentiments in these poems for what they are -fodder for a case against the king, rather than the king being inherently cruel since he was a Tamil ( which, he wasn't).

GO explores historical works which are more balanced in their approach towards criticising the king. He cites Michael Roberts ( Sinhala Consciousness in the Kandyan Period ) and the Goonratne - Brendon & Yasmin ( The Inscrutable Englishman ), and the latter work is referred at such length that a reader may get a natural kindling to give that book a try.

There is a passing reference to how there was possibly  no national  for Tri-Sinhale till 1815, and how the post-1948 Lion flag is Dutch influenced construct. One wonders whether there is a case that is being built here for another cause., where reconciliation means many things.  But one can only wonder, to be fair to GO.  Yet, I felt that there was a paucity of evidence to make such a strong claim.

All in all it is a comprehensive study of the main argument, that King Sri Vikrama was doomed to fail  - part Anthropological, part Historiography, and there is enough substance here to build a case to defend  Sri Vikrama Rajasinha - that he was  a Just, Capable yet human king, who wore the throne in trying times. It is a book rich with detail, be it the records on the nobility, or the stealth of the British, besides its main subject. I believe that it is quite a ground breaking book in its accomplishment, and hitherto would do some justice to Sri Vikrama Rajasinha - unless another "Ishanka Malsiri" turns up and proves that he can challenge GO convincingly.  Yet it is a work which has been written with some tact, but not all slips are covered, I felt.

Highly recommended for anyone interested in the  history of Sinhale ,  and  how it's  dissolution came to be.