>I really, badly, want to like Arundhati Roy. But I cannot bring myself to it:
>
> > We are far from the forest now, sitting face to face, curled up on the
> two corners of a sofa in Roy's living room-cum-work space in one of New
> Delhi's most affluent neighbourhoods. One wall is lined with books, and a
> large flat-screen TV. Elsewhere, the walls are adorned with a portrait of
> Howard Zinn, the late US historian; a poster that says "Stop Dams"; and a
> large photograph of a Maoist fighter, his weapon next to him.
> >
> > A bowl of sliced mangos is brought out by the household help, and Roy
> invites me to share it with her. "Let's eat mangos," she says, sweetly.
> "There is nothing like mangoes. I once thought I would retire and eat
> mangoes in the moonlight and generally have a good time. Help yourself."
>
>
>Seriously?
>
>http://l.ravi.be/jCf1mF
I think it's because she encourages people to see her as the romantic voice of the East, here to be wise and thoughtful and colorful in her expressions and analogies. Come on Ravi! It's sooooo cute that this nice, petite, Indian lady has wise, old answers and makes silly analogies about thin milk and heavy cream. I mean, isn't that what people from the East are ALLLLLLLLLLLLL about? They bring wisdom to poor Westerners who are incapable of wisdom and they do so in such cutesy, folksy ways with the inept analogies that you can't help but chuckle at. Western journalists eat that shit up, especially when they get to write about her household help serving up mangoes while she raps on about her dream of eating mangoes in the moonlight. I mean, she says shit like that and you know it just has to be said for the audience who expect people from India to be all magical, irrational, and romantic like that.
> —ravi
>
>
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