From far, from east and morning…

The Pleasure Seekers, Tishani Doshi’s debut novel about love in Wales and India, is the first this year I’ve been moved to buy after hearing the author read. She’s a poet, of course, and however hard she tries to be prosaic she can’t. The poet’s imperative to use words for their own individual value and resonance, not their narrative convenience, shines through. ‘I cannot NOT be a poet,’ she said as if it needed apology, ‘it has to have music to it, following an internal rhythm.’ And suddenly it makes perfect sense that she’s a professional contemporary dancer too: the same flow, the same economy, the effortless precision.