MOST. DEPRESSING. BOOK. EVER. WRITTEN.
Think "Slumdog Millionaire" except true story, lots of different people, no positive ending. Katherine Boo's presentation of the everyday in the Annawadi slums of Mumbai is tragic and her accounts of the particular series of events described in the book are astounding.
Honestly, had it been fiction, I probably would have set it aside, shaking my head at how crazy it was, complaining that the author was trying too hard. But this story, more ridiculous than a Telemundo Novela Especiale, is nonfiction. It was hard to put down despite some of the parts being difficult to read (because of content and description, not because I didn't have a dictionary with me) and I kept wondering how it could possibly get worse (because I was only a few pages into the book, and then 1/4 into the book, and then 1/2 way through the book, etc.).
Boo is scrupulous, caustic, and abrasive with her delivery -- there is absolutely no sugar coating. Her point in writing this book (which she explains in the afterword) was to demonstrate how the slumdwellers (or poor in general) continue to worsen their situations by picking on and tormenting each other rather than focusing on their larger problem. The fact that this is an ongoing problem gave the book's resolution (while definite) less weight than most others; like my feeling was "oh, okay, well that's a relief for them...I guess..." with a very strong, lingering "but there are others! what about the others!?" that I still can't shake.
I'm avoiding specifics on purpose. Read the fricken book if you're at all interested in poor people, current world affairs, legal systems in other countries, India, slums, garbage, suicide as an epidemic, or feeling really great about your current situation by comparison.
If this probably sounds like a negative review; I don't mean for it to be. To say I "enjoyed" the book would be wrong, but I did find it incredibly fascinating.
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