Product Description

Hugo Baumgartner is a lifelong wandering Jew. From his agonising childhood in pre-war Berlin, through his spell in business first in Calcutta and then Bombay, he simply doesn't belong. Too dark for Hitler's Germany, too fair for India, he remains a foreigner wherever he goes.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #200580 in Books
• Published on: 2001-08-02
• Original language: English
• Binding: Paperback
• 240 pages

Customer Reviews

Lets the 5 senses enter Bombay, and maybe hear India's soul
. . .
I was struggling with the flu this week - an ideal time to finish reading a novel, and what a read it turned out to be :-)

I had to persevere for the first half - I like books to cheer me up and Baumgartner's Bombay is not exactly a cheery little tale. It plots the life of Baumgartner, a Jew growing up in pre-war Germany, his flight as a young man to India via Venice, his incarceration in an Allies' prisoner of war camp, and his continued existence as India struggles with Independence and
Partition.

Suddenly the insight into his endurance came and transformed the reading of the rest of the novel. I hypothesised that a certain strength can result from continually having one's spirit broken, again and again and again. We rely so much for our 'identity' and peace of mind on being able to control things, to say who we are, to make choices. It's a way of 'defining' or 'knowing' ourselves almost by seeing ourselves as a reflection of the
choices we make. When choice is taken away, we have to reach very deep within ourselves to have the confidence to continue, which Baumgartner, without relying on religion, manages to do.

In a way this is a 'spiritual' issue without being (necessarily) connected to mainstream religion, and many might feel (as I do) that this is something strangely reflected by India as a country. Many people who go to India are deeply affected by the country, but what is it about India? Like Baumgartner's character, one could say that, above all else, India endures.
I recall putting my hands on a wall in Delhi and feeling transported in time - Indian civilisation had stood for longer than most history books can recall, and compared to many societies, stood relatively unchanged for thousands of years. There are wars, religious conquerors, political upheavals, yet that unwashed looking peanut seller at the side of the road
could be oblivious to what century he's in. This unchanging face of India (without making any comment on whether it is good or bad) has a very powerful force and the timelessness is almost woven into the national character ("Hurry up" is not a phrase that makes much practical sense anywhere in India)!

As soon as I thought of this, I felt strongly for the main character, for the devotion of his stinking cats, his acceptance of everything that life threw at him, and the (remarkable yet believable) changelessness of his character through both riches and poverty. Then I could smell the air in Bombay (have you ever noticed how the smell, the air, in hot countries, is so distinctive? Does the heat bring out the unique social smells and imprint them on our consciousness the way the rain imprints itself on our consciousness in Northern climes?), how you could feel the sea in the late afternoon, how the foods, the squalor and the splendour constantly assault the senses, how the relentless and teeming mass of humanity is still made up of individual people.

Baumgartner's Bombay is not a 'happy' read but I can forgive it that in the same way that Shakespeare's grandeur lets him get away with tragedy as well as comedy. And because it moved me.

Not a cheerful read, but beautifully constructed.
This does not conform to what one expects of either the Jewish Holocaust or Indian text. Set mainly in Bombay, it broadly follows the life of Baumgartner, its anti-hero: fairly poor, not very attractive, for the most part of the novel quite old, yet thoughtful, and believeable for all of this. It begins and ends with a death, and explains what led up to it in the intervening chapters, with a trip from Germany, through Venice and into India. What is most ironic and unexpected, though, is that Baumgartner, escaping the holocaust in Germany by fleeing to India, soon finds himself labelled German despite his Jewishness, and is interned in a prisoner-of-war camp for the duration of the war run by the British, and containing Nazis and Jews together. The following chapters introduce questions about nationality and human nature and culminate in an unexpected ending. But the most important aspect is Desai's style. It is easy to read, flowing naturally, and easy to identify with in a way one might not had it been written differently. It is particularly effective and observant in describing different places, atmospheres and human emotions and thought processes. Not a cheerful read exactly, not something to take on holiday, but not a difficult read nevertheless, and well worth the effort.