I suppose that the times of our lives and the changes we witness can be a fascinating journey. Hari Kunzru was born in 1969, so his memories of the sixties would barely qualify as anything at all. It is a testament to his intense novelist powers that his tale "My Revolutions" seems to be drenched in authenticity.
Of course, life with my sixties were childhood in suburban Toronto, not hippie revolutionary activism in London, so I am very capable of being fooled.
I felt that "My Revolutions" suffered in many of the same ways that "The Impressionist", Kunzru's first novel did. He dazzles me when he flies from character to character, from place to place (or in "Gods without Men" from time to time) and captures so much with his writer's "eye".
"My Revolutions" has the time travel aspect, but the protagonist had authenticity aplenty and not much else.
The surrounding cast of characters never take hold. Our hero is bewitched at the start by a glimpse of his long lost love Anna. By the time he fully tracks her down the reader is more inclined to want her turned in for the reward money than see her in his arms once again.
So ends my Kunzru novels binge. I am pleased with the task completion and look forward to more Kunzru novels in the future. For now, I am happy to take a rest from him.
Perhaps it is due to Kunzru fatigue, but I award him only a single rejoice.
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