From Amazon - For Maya, a young widow trying to escape her complicated past, teaching school in a secluded mountain village offers a promise of peace. Here she feels close to the calm heart of the land, where lush foothills meet clear skies. In the evenings she teaches a peasant girl, Charu, to write so she can correspond with her lover in secret.
As Maya finds out, however, no refuge is remote enough to keep out the modern world, or her own past. The community she has grown to love comes under attack when powerful outsiders hijack the local elections, dividing the villagers and threatening Charu’s family. And when Maya's landlord's charming nephew sets up shop nearby, Maya is drawn to him despite her better instincts—and soon finds herself questioning everything she has ever known.
First, this is the first time I have had the pleasure to read Anuradha Roy's works, so I have no comparison to the great reviews from her first novel, An Atlas of Impossible Longing. That being said, it won't be the last thing I read of hers either. The Folded Earth is rich in history, lyrical writing, and simply entrancing. However, it is very slow to start and the reader must become invested in the tale or they won't be interested in finishing it. I thought it was very easy to put down but I kept turning the pages, because I didn't want to miss out on something special
I'm certainly glad I did as the second half really caught my attention. The Folded Earth is a tragic story but infused with hope and beauty. If you haven't read Anuradha Roy's work, definitely pick up The Folded Earth. It is an emotional journey that shouldn't be missed this summer!
I'm certainly glad I did as the second half really caught my attention. The Folded Earth is a tragic story but infused with hope and beauty. If you haven't read Anuradha Roy's work, definitely pick up The Folded Earth. It is an emotional journey that shouldn't be missed this summer!
*I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
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The old grey donkey, Eeyore stood by himself in a thistly corner of the Forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, "Why?" and sometimes he thought, "Wherefore?" and sometimes he thought, "Inasmuch as which?" and sometimes he didn't quite know what he was thinking about.
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