Book Review: Socialite Evenings

A few weeks ago I picked up a novel at the library bookstore called “Socialite Evenings”, and based on the title, I assumed it to be a guilty pleasure read: light and scandalous, but interesting. I took it to the gym with me one day, and decided to read it during my daily 20-minute stationary bike workout (kill two birds with one stone and all). I finished it by the end of the week, and as I read the last page and closed the book, all I could think was boy am I glad I did not dedicate actual time from my schedule to read such an unpleasant and boring book. Absolutely nothing of value happens throughout the book’s entirety, and it is narrated by the coldest, shallowest narrator I have encountered in quite some time.  

Karuna, the novel’s main character narrates us through her life, from her modest, middle class beginnings to her eventual ascension into the socialite circles of Mumbai’s elite. The first third of the novel is dedicated to her complaining about her middle class background and dissatisfaction with the life she leads. We learn quite a bit about her “closest” friend Anjali, and at one point, a hundred or so pages into the book, I found myself trying to figure out who the actual main character is, since Karuna spends a good portion of the novel praising and simultaneously complaining about Anjali, the quintessential airheaded socialite. As the story slowly and painfully progresses, Karuna marries a childhood sweetheart in order to ascend to the upper class, and we hear about her unhappiness with her shallow marriage and bland husband. She continues to chronicle her boredom with marriage, her husband, and reality, choosing to lose herself in the literary world instead. Two-thirds into the novel, there is still no riveting anecdote or colorful moment that really captures your interest. Karuna continues to regale us of tales of infidelity, religious shams, and even a few mafia members make an appearance, and yet, she does so in such a lifeless, colorless tone, that we just shrug past it. Besides Karuna and Anjali, none of the characters are given much depth or personality, notably Karuna’s husband, which contributes to the story’s lifeless storyline.

As I ended the book, I was disappointed on so many levels. The only semi-useful take-away from the novel that I got was the mentality of India’s middle class. Karuna discusses her thoughts and disappointment with being a part of the middle class, and even though India is nearly a world away from America, I found myself understanding some of her viewpoints. Nevertheless, this is definitely NOT a novel I would recommend to anyone unless you find yourself bored out of your mind with absolutely nothing else to do.