I finished a couple weeks ago, Interpreter Of Maladies by Jhump Lahiri, the author of The Namesake (now also a motion picture – which looks quite good).

This is an unbelievably beautiful collection of short fiction. I had not read anything of Lahiri’s, except for her piece in a December 2007 issue of The New Yorker, Year’s End, which was equally as stunning.

Interpreter of Maladies seduced me immediately as Lahiri has an eloquent and sparse way with perfect words. Her stories are haunting and complex. I was left with sorrow in almost all of them, yet the book was strangely uplifting. Lahiri does something interesting in Interpreter in that she is not beholden to just one voice, which is somewhat strange for collections like this, usually the author seems to be looking for things to hold the collection together, and point of view is often an easy way to do that, Lahiri switches point of view between stories masterfully, moving from first to third person with ease, and yet her stories link together beautifully, because they are all filled with the same kind of happy melancholy, a private and perfect loneliness, a desperate sadness that still holds mysterious pockets of hope. They also all involve Indian characters in some way or another, which kept things together nicely.

As for best stories, they were all so evenly perfect that it is difficult for me to pick favorites. Because I tend to relate heavily to romantic relationship stories I would have to say that A Temporary Matter, Sexy, This Blessed House, and Interpreter of Maladies were some of my favorites. But that is not to say that When Mr. Pirzada Came To Dine, A Real Durwan, Mrs. Sen’s, The Treatment of Bibi Haldar, and The Third And Final Continent were any less powerful or stunning.

It is really quite an amazing feat in any collection, to make each story not only lovely and strong, but also so haunting. I give Interpreter of Maladies 4.5 stars and cannot wait to read more of Jhumpa Lahiri’s work.