The City of Devi

Manil Suri’s enormous, hysterical opus tells two seemingly disconnected stories: a plausible apocalypse and a broken marriage. It’s the near future, terrorists are exploding dirty bombs, the globe is descending into chaos, and India and Pakistan are on the brink of nuclear war. What worse time for Sarita’s husband, Karun, to run off without a word? And why is a gay Muslim named Jaz following her? Might it have something to do with Sarita and Karun’s two years of unconsummated marriage?

Suri has wisely set this larger-than-life, Bollywood-esque tale in the megacity Mumbai, the vastness of which makes it an utterly insane place for a vulnerable woman to go off in search of a man in the midst of total chaos. It’s the perfect locale for Suri to unfurl his expansive canvas, from blockbuster movies that incite nationalist fervor to a Hindu shrine to a child born with extra arms, plus a hair’s-breadth escape made on elephants — The City of Devi does not skimp on action. Yet the core of this book are Sarita, Karun and Jaz, all flawed, interesting and quite human enough to carry Suri’s oversized tale. In the end it becomes evident that this is a love story for our times, blending nationalities, religions, sexualities (yes, reader, there are three-way sex scenes here), all set amidst a manic frenzy whose energy is equal to our world’s.