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Average rating4.3
Over sixty years, for numerous readers--of all ages; in big cities, small towns and little hamlets--Ruskin Bond has been the best kind of companion. He has entertained, charmed and occasionally spooked us with his books and stories, and opened our eyes to the beauty of the everyday and the natural world. He has made us smile when our spirits are low, and steadied us when we've stumbled. Now, in this brilliantly readable autobiography--his book of books--one of India's greatest writers shows us the roots of everything he has written. He begins with a dream and a gentle haunting, before taking us to an idyllic childhood in Jamnagar by the Arabian Sea--where he composed his first poem--and New Delhi in the early 1940s--where he found material for his first short story. It was a brief period of happiness that ended with his parents' separation and the untimely death of his beloved father. A search for companionship and security, undercut by a fierce independence and a tendency for risk-taking, would inform every choice he made for the rest of his life. With effortless intimacy and candour, Bond recalls his boarding school days in Shimla and winter holidays in Dehradun, when he tried to come to terms with a sense of abandonment, made friends, discovered great books and found his true calling. Determined to be a writer, he spent four difficult years in England, from 1951 to 1955, and he writes poignantly of his loneliness there, even as he kept his promise to himself and produced a book--the classic novel of adolescence, The Room on the Roof. It was born of his longing for 'the atmosphere that was India'--the home he would return to even before the novel was published, taking a gamble that would prove to be the best decision he made. In the final, glorious section of the autobiography, he writes about losing his restlessness and settling down in the hills of Mussoorie, surrounded by generous trees, mist and sunshine, birdsong, elusive big cats, new friends and eccentrics--and a family that grew around him and made him its own. Full of anecdote, warmth and gentle wit; often deeply moving and always with a magnificent sense of time and place--and containing over fifty photographs, some of them never seen before--Lone Fox Dancing is a book of understated, enduring magic, like Ruskin Bond himself.
Reviews with the most likes.
I have always loved Ruskin Bond's stories ever since I read his very first one that had appeared in one of my school books. His love for nature always came through. At the same time I was always intrigued about what he was as person. The magic of Ruskin's writing for me was always its simplicity, charm and ability to transport you to the very time and place he is talking about. A British man who gave up his easy chance of settling down in a first world country yet choosing to come back to India intentionally is a real revelation. Reading his autobiography felt like I was sitting across from him while he regaled me with tales of his entire life.
// everyone should read this
I'm not a fan of autobiographies. In fact, this might as well be the first autobiography I truly enjoyed. It was a page turner, his simplistic yet engaging style of writing had me hooked to know what's going to happen next in his life. Lessons and tales of childhood memories, loss of loved one, money problems, family drama and friendship were talked about so eloquently, you do not want to keep this book down.
It's raw and blunt, not romanticising his struggles of becoming a beloved writer and the strenuous path that got him there. It also gives brief insights into the background of many of his favourite characters and short stories.
And when it's over, you'll be sad that there is not more. While reviewing ‘Love among bookshelves' I wrote “I haven't read a book that made me so happy and satisfied in a long time”. I would reuse that sentiment for this one.
reading this book was an experience that everyone, whether familiar or unfamiliar with Bond's work, should embarke on.
Read this for the love of Bond. I would like to thank the author for writing this. It's so freaking beautiful :')