An attempt has been made to simply present the intricacies of a relationship between two ordinary people. But in doing so, it also brings out a picture of complex social perceptions, beliefs and systems in a seemingly regular society. In this story, two alternate situations are presented from time to time,
What is good about the books is that technical terminology and names of specific concepts have been written in the Devanagari script and given in English in brackets, for example, ‘zone of proximal development’ and ‘bottom-up model’, etc. On the other hand, in the case of a few articles, while it has been mentioned that the articles have been translated from English, and the source has also been mentioned,
One of the most enjoyable aspects of the book is how the authors complement scientific facts with common proverbs or couplets. For example, while discussing Apiaceae, they cite, ‘ऊँट के मुंह में ज़ीरा’, connecting the plants to familiar sayings, which makes them easier to remember.
This twist in the story brings an interesting point to think about. On the surface, their trick works; they get the mangoes. But the method they use isn’t morally right.
What gives Mrs Dalloway its distinction, however, is not the plot but the speculative and lyrical sensibility with which the heroine Clarissa is endowed. Though a ‘tinselly’ party-giver, she is yet shown to sympathize and even identify with a shell-shocked war veteran, Septimus Warren Smith, whom she has never met.
Through its exploration of colonial and postcolonial education policies, The Amateur reminds us, colonial education does not only alienate the subject from her culture but also uses education as a tool to impart and spread imperialism. The notorious Bantu Education Act (1953), which restricted resources for coloured students, was a stark institutionalization of ‘education apartheid’