Posted in Books

Book Review: A Treasury of Tales from the Kathasaritasagara, by Jayashree Bhat

As a child, I loved hearing stories that my grandmother used to narrate. It’s one thing that led me to reading. And she had plenty of stories to narrate too. This book was gifted by a friend, and seeing the cover, I thought it would have the familiarity of those old stories for sure.

The book is divided into five sections: “Tales of Magic and Adventure”, “Tales of Wit and Folly”, “Tales of Curses and Boons”, “Tales of Birds and Animals” and “Tales of King Trivikramasena and the Vetala”. They aren’t very big tales, so I’d rather not try to summarize them and give away spoilers. You can read them and enjoy for sure!

They can be read in any order, so I went to the last section first. As expected, nostalgia took over and I remembered the tales and the ending. However, it was only 5 stories rather than 25, so wished it had more. The other sections were good too. From those, my favorite stories were “The Clever Thief”, “The Kind Sage”, “The King and the Boar” and “The Crane, The Snake and the Mongoose”. None of the stories were boring, but these were some of the few I remembered even after I finished reading the book.

They were enjoyable and engaging, as they were meant to be. They weren’t written keeping morals and takeaways in mind but some of them do have implicit morals to them I feel. I would reread the book when I feel a reader’s block taking over; I think this would help. There are of course, many more tales in the Kathasaritasagara, so will look to find a book with more stories to enjoy! This book, however, is heartily recommended.


A Score Of 8 Out Of 10

Book Details:
Title: A Treasury of Tales from the Kathasaritasagara
Author: Jayashree Bhat
Genre: Fiction/Children’s Books
ISBN: 9789388322454
No. of Pages: 192
Publisher: Hachette India
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Rating: 8 out of 10


Vinay Leo R.
© A Bookworm’s Musing
31st Oct. 2019

Author:

Poetry and writing are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

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