Just finished
a fairly decent rough draft on my Global Transnational Lit paper. I’m arguing incest was a necessary mode of coping with grief in my new favorite book ‘The God of Small Things’. Strange, no? Captivating, yes? If you’re in the mood for an amazing 321 page poem in the shape of a novel with lily pads printed on the cover, go buy this book. Borrow it. Thief it. Read it. Author: Arundhati Roy.
