Saint of Bright Doors

I tore through this book, and might just re-read it immediately, which is something I never do.

It starts out as a fantasy story that feels exceptionally weird because Chandrasekera's willing to do his world building / exposition very slowly. I kept going through a lot of confusion because the writing itself is just so beautiful. And then gradually as the exposition falls into place it becomes clearer that the book is at least partly a critique of religious fanaticisms and chauvinisms... but each time I felt I really had a handle on the book something in its world would shift - either the protagonist learning a new piece of his own story or a significant detail the the author waited until a dramatic moment to show the reader. Even the ending feels like another instance of that, and it is a relatively unclear ending, though it fits the whole mood of the book enough not to be frustrating.

To be clear: I like this kind of storytelling better than spending pages and pages on worldbuilding before anything happens, and all loose ends tied up by the conclusion. It just needs a damn good writer to make it work, and Chandrasekera is one. I also never felt like I was more confused than the protagonist himself, which I think is how the book managed not to fall into feeling like a cheap trick.

After reading it, I read up on the story of Rāhula, and realised that many more details in this book are clearly-intentional references to that than I'd picked up on. And I read some Sri Lankan history and realised that much of what felt like echoes of Myanmar or Israel were more direct references to specific aspects of Sri Lanka's civil war. Part of why I want to re-read is to have those things in mind, but I think it's also a strength of the book that it works as a more general allegory too. I think I would advise other readers to go in the same order as me: dive into the book first, and catch up on its references after.

#SFFBookClub

The thing I enjoyed the most about the Saint of Bright Doors is the way my expectations were constantly dashed. The first line starts the book off feeling like a dark fantasy, as Fetter's shadow is stripped away from him. But from there he grows up some and moves to a city where there's all sorts of technology that make it feel like a parallel modern universe. But there's also subterfuge and revolution, group therapy for (non)-chosen ones, complicated family, and the mire of prison bureaucracy.

I think overall it's just different than a lot of books I've read, and I appreciate the myriad ideas it's trying to fit together. The pacing and narrative arc were not what I had expected, but somehow it was a delight all the same.

(One minor point that hit home is that this is in part a story of plagues and pogroms; and, horrifyingly that people have become so inured to them that they are "seasonal" and rich people take vacations to avoid them. I also appreciated the one-off detail of how shitty cops are at wearing masks properly.)

One last side note: I enjoyed screamsbeneath's review in general, but especially the mention of Vajra Chandrasekera's blog about Unbuddhism; it helped fix some of my ignorance of Sri Lanka to add context and depth to the book.

I greatly enjoyed my time with the book, even when the plot felt to me going nowhere (and not in that intentional cozy sort of way, but in a rambling past things that aren’t central to whatever it is that has or will happen). Some of this is likely due to cultural expectations of a narrative progression, and it was actually a joy to have that shaken up. The prose is decadent and evocative, breathing life into a world that was equally enchanting and horrifying. I also greatly appreciated fiction that pulls from Buddhist traditions and imagery, while not bowing to a need to only shine it in a grand and endearing light. Much of this may go unnoticed without having been previously exposed to the stories not often found in mainstream Buddhism, but it’s not required for enjoyment, just a lovely layer of depth to an already nuanced world. If, like me, you are woefully ignorant to the historical and political turmoil in Sri Lanka, reading the authors blog post on Unbuddhism (googling his name and the term will turn it up) will help illuminate the parallels of the recent history and present depicted in the story. I happened upon that prior to reading and it didn’t spoil anything while giving my a grounding in an unfamiliar culture that was a juxtaposition to my exposure to Vajrayana stories and teachings. Highly recommended, along with many of the more recent blog posts.

I really enjoyed this, but I left it feeling like I should read it again because I feel there were a lot of deeper, philosophical things I missed. (that's a bonus: I love a book that's full enough to read over and over and find things you missed.) So, the thing I want to share, I can't because it's a huge spoiler. But, a hint won't hurt? A little past mid-way through the book, I felt like I was missing something. Like something was almost not-quite visible out of the corner of my eye. And then a twist happened, and yep. Also, this is such a brilliant take on something else I can't say because spoilers. Dang it! Okay, this quote I can share, right? "But you have to understand, while we are all unchosen together, I'm not like the rest of you." Or this one: "Fame, she says, is how a ruling class conditions artists to docility and incorporates their work to lesser ends." See? It's a great book. There's this wry humor and big concepts and sadness and hope. I highly recommend it, but don't rush through it. It's a savoring type of book.