The Bandit Queens

Informationen zum Autor Parini Shroff Klappentext GOOD MORNING AMERICA BUZZ PICK • A young Indian woman finds the false rumors that she killed her husband surprisingly usefuluntil other women in the village start asking for her help getting rid of their own husbandsin this razor-sharp debut. "A radically feel-good story about the murder of no-good husbands by a cast of unsinkable women. The New York Times Book Review Longlisted for the Andrew Carnegie Medal • A BEST BOOK OF THE YEAR: Shondaland, She Reads, CrimeReads Five years ago, Geeta lost her no-good husband. As in, she actually lost himhe walked out on her and she has no idea where he is. But in her remote village in India, rumor has it that Geeta killed him. And it's a rumor that just won't die. It turns out that being known as a self-made widow comes with some perks. No one messes with her, harasses her, or tries to control ( ahem, marry) her. It's even been good for business; no one dares to not buy her jewelry. Freedom must look good on Geeta, because now other women are asking for her expertise, making her an unwitting consultant for husband disposal. And not all of them are asking nicely. With Geeta's dangerous reputation becoming a double-edged sword, she has to find a way to protect the life she's builtbut even the best-laid plans of would-be widows tend to go awry. What happens next sets in motion a chain of events that will change everything, not just for Geeta, but for all the women in their village. Filled with clever criminals, second chances, and wry and witty women, Parini Shroff's The Bandit Queens is a razor-sharp debut of humor and heart that readers won't soon forget. Leseprobe One The women were arguing. The loan officer was due to arrive in a few hours, and they were still missing two hundred rupees. Rather, Farah and her two hundred rupees were missing. The other four women of their loan group had convened, as they did every Tuesday, to aggregate their respective funds. Where is she? Geeta asked. No one answered. Instead, the women pieced their respective Farah sightings into a jigsaw of gossip that, to Geeta's ears at least, failed to align. Saloni­a woman whose capacity for food was exceeded only by her capacity for venom­goaded most of the conversation. This isn't the first time, Priya said. And you know it won't be the last, Saloni finished. When Preity mentioned she was fairly certain she'd seen Farah buying hashish, Geeta felt it best to nudge them to more prosaic matters. Varunbhai is not going to like this. Well, now we know where her money's going, Priya said. Some devout Muslim. Saloni sniffed, the gesture dainty for a woman of her size. Lately she'd been attempting to rebrand her weight as evidence of her community status. Compounded with her preternatural talent for bullying, this guise worked on the women. But Geeta had known Saloni and her family since childhood­when she ruled the playground rather than their loan group­and could accurately attribute her heft to genetics betraying her in her thirtieth year rather than any posh mark of affluence. Ironic, considering Saloni had spent her first nineteen years perpetually malnourished, thin as paper, and just as prone to cut. She'd married well, curving into a stunning woman who'd reclaimed her slim figure after her firstborn, but hadn't managed the same after the second. Geeta listened to their rumors, observed how the women contributed and piled on, with clinical interest. This must've been the way they'd whispered about her after Ramesh left­a fallen woman mixed with dirt­then shushing each other when she approached, their lips peeling into sympathetic smiles as sincere as political promises. But now, five ye...

Auteur

Parini Shroff

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GOOD MORNING AMERICA BUZZ PICK • A young Indian woman finds the false rumors that she killed her husband surprisingly useful—until other women in the village start asking for her help getting rid of their own husbands—in this razor-sharp debut.

"A radically feel-good story about the murder of no-good husbands by a cast of unsinkable women.”—The New York Times Book Review

Longlisted for the Andrew Carnegie Medal • A She Reads Best Book of the Year

Five years ago, Geeta lost her no-good husband. As in, she actually lost him—he walked out on her and she has no idea where he is. But in her remote village in India, rumor has it that Geeta killed him. And it’s a rumor that just won’t die.

It turns out that being known as a “self-made” widow comes with some perks. No one messes with her, harasses her, or tries to control (ahem, marry) her. It’s even been good for business; no one dares to not buy her jewelry.

Freedom must look good on Geeta, because now other women are asking for her “expertise,” making her an unwitting consultant for husband disposal.

And not all of them are asking nicely.

With Geeta’s dangerous reputation becoming a double-edged sword, she has to find a way to protect the life she’s built—but even the best-laid plans of would-be widows tend to go awry. What happens next sets in motion a chain of events that will change everything, not just for Geeta, but for all the women in their village.

Filled with clever criminals, second chances, and wry and witty women, Parini Shroff’s The Bandit Queens is a razor-sharp debut of humor and heart that readers won’t soon forget.

Échantillon de lecture
One

The women were arguing. The loan officer was due to arrive in a few hours, and they were still missing two hundred rupees. Rather, Farah and her two hundred rupees were missing. The other four women of their loan group had convened, as they did every Tuesday, to aggregate their respective funds.

Where is she? Geeta asked.

No one answered. Instead, the women pieced their respective Farah sightings into a jigsaw of gossip that, to Geeta s ears at least, failed to align. Saloni ­a woman whose capacity for food was exceeded only by her capacity for venom ­goaded most of the conversation.

This isn t the first time, Priya said.

And you know it won t be the last, Saloni finished.

When Preity mentioned she was fairly certain she d seen Farah buying hashish, Geeta felt it best to nudge them to more prosaic matters. Varunbhai is not going to like this.

Well, now we know where her money s going, Priya said.

Some devout Muslim. Saloni sniffed, the gesture dainty for a woman of her size. Lately she d been attempting to rebrand her weight as evidence of her community status. Compounded with her preternatural talent for bullying, this guise worked on the women. But Geeta had known Saloni and her family since childhood ­when she ruled the playground rather than their loan group ­and could accurately attribute her heft to genetics betraying her in her thirtieth year rather than any posh mark of affluence. Ironic, considering Saloni had spent her first nineteen years perpetually malnourished, thin as paper, and just as prone to cut. She d married well, curving into a stunning woman who d reclaimed her slim figure after her firstborn, but hadn t managed the same after the second.

Geeta listened to their rumors, observed how the women contributed and piled on, with clinical interest. This must ve been the way they d whispered about her after Ramesh left ­a fallen woman mixed with dirt ­then shushing each other when she approached, their lips peeling into sympathetic smiles as sincere as political promises. But now, five years after her husband s disappearance, Geeta found herself within the fold rather than shunned, thanks to Farah s absence. It was a dubious honor.

Her fingers toyed with her ear. When she used to wear earrings, she would often check to make sure the back…