Fair And Foul

For once, Jacques Derrida had not intended to play the prophet when he deplored the inevitable demise of the book during the inauguration of the Calcutta Book Fair. Derrida certainly hadnt anticipated that Fahrenheit 451 would end up being the ruling theme of the fair. With losses estimated at between Rs 12 and Rs 20 crore "� and no such thing as book insurance at Lloyds "� this is probably the single worst disaster to have hit the Indian publishing industry.

It seemed equally typical of Calcutta that its citizens carried away books slightly singed at the edges, but a bargain nevertheless in an orgy of post-disaster looting, but that at the same time, they more or less expected the fair to be resurrected in a couple of days. And that the citys august legislators almost came to blows over the question of whether the fire constituted an insult to Bengali culture.

 

Events in the Capital offered a strange contrast to the three-act drama being played out in Calcutta. The British Book Fair, unlike most book fairs in Delhi, was not held inside the sterile and aseptic environs of Pragati Maidan. Unlike Calcutta, where jhalmuri, candyfloss and artists who offer to paint your portrait jostle for space with Emersons Collected Works, the typical book fair in the Capital lays more stress on the book than the fair. To add to the charm, visitors occasionally submit to the indignity of metal detectors and body searches with an air of resignation well-honed by long usage.

Hanif Kureishi reads out selected passages from The Buddha of Suburbia, and fields questions from Delhites who associate him exclusively with My Beautiful Launderette. Yesterday I saw a paper where theyd described me as Hanif Launderette Kureishi, he said, I suppose I should be glad Im not associated with Sammy and Rosie Get Laid to that degree.

The India International Centre regulars all plan to make it for the panel discussion led by Dawa Norbu on Tibet; the general publics attitude can be summed up by a woman who leafed through a few tracts and books on the Free Tibet movement and turned away, disappointed. I thought it was travel books, she explained. There are occasional flurries as someone spreads the rumour that Shobha De might be dropping in, but the more knowledgeable are of the opinion that shes rubbing shoulders with Derrida and Helen Ciscoux in Calcutta. (Id give a lot to know what the doyen of French feminism thinks of Des latest offering on the altar of literature, Surviving Men.)

Thankfully, the British Book Fair is free of one of the most annoying aspects of social occasions in Delhi the ubiquitous bureaucrat or politician masquerading as celebrity guest. My favourite story regarding this concerns a senior IFS diplomat who was supposed to release his memoirs at a book fair being held in AIFACs not so long ago. He arrived on schedule with an impressive entourage in tow clearing the decks behind him. He was a little perplexed to find that his wife wasnt there, but decided not to delay the book release.

As he left, he spotted a very ruffled spouse outside. She had been stopped politely by securitymen who informed her that Mr so-and-sos book release was in progress and that the public had been asked to wait. Her protestations that she was expected to be by his side were met by the unanswerable statement that if she was indeed his wife, she would have been travelling with him. Since she wasnt inside, she was clearly not the lady in question. Ill bet Mrs Basu didnt have the same problem in Calcutta when her husbands authorised biography was released!