Maithreyi Karnoor's debut novel "Sylvia" is a captivating literary exploration that defies conventional narratives. This ingenious work is a kaleidoscope of perspectives, each facet reflecting the enigmatic titular character in a unique light, challenging the reader to ponder the multifaceted nature of human beings and the myriad roles they play in others' lives.

What particularly resonates is Sylvia's presence permeates the narrative, her essence transcending the boundaries of a singular identity. She manifests as a lover, a friend, a muse, and a catalyst for self-discovery, her multifaceted nature mirroring the complexities of human existence. Karnoor's poetic prose and evocative imagery elevate this exploration of identity, relationships, and the indelible imprints we leave on one another's lives.

"Sylvia" is a remarkable debut that heralds the arrival of a bold new voice in Indian literature. Karnoor's ability to craft a narrative that is both intellectually stimulating and emotionally resonant is a testament to her literary prowess. With its innovative storytelling and profound insights, this novel leaves an indelible mark on the reader's psyche, beckoning them to embark on a journey of self-reflection and discovery.

This is a 'novel of interlinked short stories from India.'

It is interesting because of its form: the main character, Sylvia, is actually never a main character - in most stories we only catch a glimpse of her. She is a side character who may be referred to only in passing but she is the glue that binds the stories together and as a reader you start waiting for her to turn up and leave her mark on whoever is the main character of the story.

I found not all stories equally engaging, and I am sure there are many things I failed to pick up.

While the structure and form are intriguing, I was not blown away by the prose and the slightly simplistic style.

I did enjoy learning about rural Southern India - its diversity in languages, its strong cultural and religious rules about how to live.

After having being introduced to the world of deep ecology through the writing of Robert Macafarlane and Suzanne Simard, I was excited to get to read this book.

I’m struggling with how to start this review. I though it was going to be a straightforward novel but what I felt was more like a memoir mixed with an anthology of short stories. It’s beautifully written and constructed and I read it in one day, with breaks to think about it - it is quite a short book at under 200 pages. As a novel i.e. one story, I found it a bit disjointed, but as a collection of clever and thought provoking prose it was wonderful.

Briefly, the first half of the book tells the story of Cajetan Pereira who has returned to his homeland and rebuilt a dilapidated home within sight of a mystical Baobab tree and Lakshmi, his young neighbour who has returned home from Bangalore after an horrific accident killed his two friends. The two of them are building a close friendship and when Cajetan’s niece Sylvia comes into their lives close bonds are forged until one day Sylvia just ups and leaves. The second half is composed of 9 short stories some with Sylvia as a character but most where she is just a fleeting mention.

Did I get understand all the nuances of this complex story? No probably not, in fact I definitely didn’t understand the inclusion of some of the short stories but that really didn’t matter. Sylvia was but a glimpse in some lives and I was left wondering about her future. A complex, at times disturbing read but one you need to savour rather than rush through.

I received this ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Sylvia is a collection of glimpses into a host of characters, all gently intertwining with one another and crossing paths.

At times it’s hard to remember who is who and which characters are linked and how. The cheat sheet at the end sheds some post-read clarity. That aside, it’s beautifully written and described. Some of the stories in particular are so visceral, you genuinely feel rooted in their worlds.

My thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for providing me with an early copy of this book in return for an honest review.

The book tells the story of a diverse cast of characters in contemporary Goa, all of whom are united via their interaction (big or small) with the eponymous Sylvia. It's a collection of scenes across times and locations, each highlighting another angle of life in that environment and community. Each glimpse has its own depth and richness, and, together, they make up a compelling and complete tapestry that is spellbinding in its richness.

I found the book absolutely terrific. While I struggled a bit to see how the red thread of Sylvia runs through all the various scenes, it didn't affect the thrill and joy I felt with every new scene. This could easily have come across just as a set of loosely connected stories, but it really came across as something more complete. Having finished the book, I was left with a strong and vivid impression of the subtext of what the lives of our protagonists feel like. There is a sense of serenity and calm, despite the quotidian difficulties and struggles that everyone faces. There was also something incredibly intimate in how the story was told - the scenes were deeply revealing, allowing the reader to make up their own mind about the ecosystem in which each scene occurred.

I was also absolutely impressed with the depth of character development, especially given the very brief runway given to each. The strength of the author is apparent in each of these glimpses - the characters are alive and kicking. There is something even of Akutagawa and Chekhov in each of these stories.

This was a great experience, albeit a bit unusual in its structure. Highly recommend it to anyone interested in contemporary India, but also anyone who enjoys high quality literature, especially when it comes in unusual forms.

Sylvia is a good story, more a rhizome than a baobab tree, tracing the histories and kinships of the titular character, who visits her long-lost uncle in his new old home in Goa (I appreciated the subtitle of the Indian edition, 'Distant Avuncular Ends', which didn't make it to this international edition). I enjoyed the careful, almost loving attention to geographic, cultural, spatial detail—nothing about the characters or places felt flat or derivative. What I didn't enjoy was that the novel began to feel like a game of join the dots, and not all efforts to create connections were equally successful.