IoS paperback review: Chinaman, By Shehan Karunatilaka

First class-cricket yarn will bowl you over

David Evans
Saturday 08 December 2012 20:01 EST
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

At the centre of Shehan Karunatilaka’s remarkable debut is W G “Wije” Karunasena, a Sri Lankan sports writer and souse.

Having spent years carousing in Colombo, Wije is told by doctors that he must give up the bottle or die within months. The problem is, he can’t write without a shot of arrack to still the shakes, and he has an idea for a book that will finally make his reputation: a biography of Pradeep Mathew, a sublimely talented but little-known spin bowler, whose career was ended by a pernicious mixture of “politics, racism, power cuts, and plain bad luck”. Deaf to the protests of his wife and friends, Wije resolves to finish the project before his liver gives out, insisting that “unlike life, sport matters”.

Chinaman – the title refers to Pradeep’s signature bowling technique, the crazy trajectory of which bamboozled batsmen – is obviously a book about sport, which is to say, it is a book about the chasm that separates failure from greatness. But it is also a book about friendship and marriage, about alcoholism and the Sri Lankan civil war (as Wije wryly observes, the papers print the “death count on the front page, cricket score on the back”).

Reading like a cross between Borges and Simon Barnes, Wije’s fragmented, essayistic narration uses the game as a prism through which to view the wider world, as well as to give a funny and very moving account of his personal struggles. I don’t like cricket, but I loved this: it’s the most distinctive, stylish and downright enjoyable novel I’ve read all year.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in