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My face was beginning to feel numb, and though my feet were dry, they were uncomfortably cold. I thought about turning back, but I have an aversion to reversing direction on a walk. When you’re going back somewhere, it is hard to think of anything but the destination. You fall out of the present, into a strange state that is a blend of anticipation and recollection, a blend of the future and the past. You see for a second time the landmarks on the route you’re retracing, and drift to thinking of the routine you’ll follow when you get back home. Onwards is always better.
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Description
Red Pill
Hari Kunzru
This compelling, intelligent and thought-provoking novel demands the reader to put aside their squeamishness and confront society’s malignant reality. There is a disquieting counter-narrative that jumps and bucks with unsparing political observations. The unreliable narrator puzzles and exasperates and yet also haunts and taunts.
