Suki by Suniti Namjoshi ebook (PDF)
In Suki, fabulist Suniti Namjoshi weaves a witty and delightful tapestry from threads of longing, loss, memory, metaphor, and contemplation. Suki is a lightly fictionalised memoir of one woman and her cat. Comparable to J.R. Ackerley’s My Dog Tulip, Nilanjana Roy’s The Wildings and Paul Auster’s Mr Bones, the book is full of tender wisdom and sharp insight into the unique relationship between human and animal.
“Let’s face it, “ I told her one day. “The reason we get on is because we’re a pair of murderous animals and we acknowledge it.” I had lapsed – once again – from being vegetarian and was trying to think profound and moral thoughts about the food chain. Suki wasn’t having any of it. “I don’t spend my time committing murder,” she told me. “I spend it sleeping.”
“Well, that’s a waste of time!”
“When I sleep, I dream.”
“What do you dream about?”
“About life,” she replied in a superior fashion.
2014 | 132 pp
In Suki, fabulist Suniti Namjoshi weaves a witty and delightful tapestry from threads of longing, loss, memory, metaphor, and contemplation. Suki is a lightly fictionalised memoir of one woman and her cat. Comparable to J.R. Ackerley’s My Dog Tulip, Nilanjana Roy’s The Wildings and Paul Auster’s Mr Bones, the book is full of tender wisdom and sharp insight into the unique relationship between human and animal.
“Let’s face it, “ I told her one day. “The reason we get on is because we’re a pair of murderous animals and we acknowledge it.” I had lapsed – once again – from being vegetarian and was trying to think profound and moral thoughts about the food chain. Suki wasn’t having any of it. “I don’t spend my time committing murder,” she told me. “I spend it sleeping.”
“Well, that’s a waste of time!”
“When I sleep, I dream.”
“What do you dream about?”
“About life,” she replied in a superior fashion.
2014 | 132 pp
In Suki, fabulist Suniti Namjoshi weaves a witty and delightful tapestry from threads of longing, loss, memory, metaphor, and contemplation. Suki is a lightly fictionalised memoir of one woman and her cat. Comparable to J.R. Ackerley’s My Dog Tulip, Nilanjana Roy’s The Wildings and Paul Auster’s Mr Bones, the book is full of tender wisdom and sharp insight into the unique relationship between human and animal.
“Let’s face it, “ I told her one day. “The reason we get on is because we’re a pair of murderous animals and we acknowledge it.” I had lapsed – once again – from being vegetarian and was trying to think profound and moral thoughts about the food chain. Suki wasn’t having any of it. “I don’t spend my time committing murder,” she told me. “I spend it sleeping.”
“Well, that’s a waste of time!”
“When I sleep, I dream.”
“What do you dream about?”
“About life,” she replied in a superior fashion.
2014 | 132 pp