The Blaft Anthology of Tamil Pulp Fiction, Vol. I

Did not finish book. Stopped at 14%. First, the translation is terrible. It all makes sense and seems to convey the meaning, but it's all written in a really dull, robotic style. Everything is described in the most straight-forward way. It's clearly doing the authors a disservice. Second, the two stories I read were not good. The first, Hurricane Vaij, is about a private investigator hired to locate a man who's been kidnapped, which he seems to do entirely by luck. And it's hard to tell, given the translation, but the author seems to have some very fucked-up morals and priorities. The client is a politician; the missing man is his son. And they're both power-hungry hypocrites, but I think we're supposed to see them as admirable? The protagonist is worse though. There's one point where he sexually assaults his sidekick and it seems to be played as a joke? Again, the translation makes it hard to tell the author's exact intent, but he certainly isn't supposed to be seen as a bad person for doing it.

The second story I read was much less repugnant, but very, very stupid. The translator and/or editor's introduction to Idhaya 2020 makes the absolutely batshit claim that its author, Rajesh Kumar, has written 1250 novels and over 2000 short stories between 1968 and 2008. 1250 novels in 40 years. Over 30 novels a year. 2-3 novels a month. Assuming that the word "novel" is being used extremely charitably, that's still insane.

Anyway, the second story exhibits the same translation problems as the first, but also demonstrates the author's bizarre thought processes. No description could really do it justice, so I'll just have to include an excerpt. In this scene, an inventor is showing off his new "female" robot (the fact that the robot is female is made a special point of, but I think he's just referring to its appearance) that can "think for herself ... differentiate between good and bad, and make decisions ... shoot down a burglar [and] has strong human values".

One of the scientists stood in front of Idhaya. “Which is better for health, whisky or brandy?” Idhaya opened her metallic mouth and spoke in a melodious female voice, enunciating every syllable. “Both are dangerous to health.” “Can AIDS be cured?” “No.” “What about telling lies?” “That is wrong.” “And stealing?” “That is also immoral.” “Which is the crime that can never be forgiven?” “Betrayal!” The scientist who had been questioning her applauded. “Excellent, Idhaya! Can you give us a poem please?” “Of course I can.” “Go on then!” “Even with its death impending at dusk, it sheds no tears at dawn. Flower! From its smile, learn about life, oh Man!”