"A Brief History of Seven Killings" by Marlon James

If a man is sitting in a chair in the middle of a hall which is carpeted and there are three dozen people of both genders and multiple ethnicities who are dancing around trying to tell him their version of an event simultaneously, then I am that man and these people belong to Marlon James’ “A Brief History of Seven Killings”. They are not exiting the hall, some of them are taking a break to copulate, some are drawing cutlasses and enacting a scene, a few are going to the windows drawing their pistols and shooting someone on the road five floors down, some are sniffing cocaine and some just stay back and stare at me from time to time demanding my undivided attention. Everyone and everything lacks something, of which they are not aware and there is something always left to tell you because either the upbringing was such or this is too much fun. It transforms from almost magical realism to the pace of Mario Puzo as you turn the pages. The metaphysical is almost always in range without hinting it's reality. The people who have been just shot on the road are climbing up the stairs and standing behind those who have shot them, but it is not haunting because it is “A Brief History of Those Seven Killings”. All the research that has gone into the novel is buried under the trash hills of Jamaica. On those hills are loitering these characters who are fully armed with machine guns, glocks and their immediate realities. So, one is not going to find that the work is inspired by real events, and if one is able to, it will be buried under the next round of excitement that comes with every chapter or the next round of the trash truck. Read it if you don’t mind Jamaican tongue. It will even take you to Brooklyn.