I woke to the strains of Für Elise for the third time since returning to Sri Lanka. This alerted me to two things:
(1)Music appreciation in this country has deteriorated to the extent that classical    masterpieces are being used to summon bread buyers to the gate. To whom should one complain? [Have been out of the country for so long that I can’t think of whom to turn to. Should it be the Ministry of Cultural Affairs? (If there still was a ministry called that, that is). Then again, would they consider a German work out of their province?”]
(2)I should be more scrupulous about waking up earlier.

"The novel is also notable in another way – it depicts the inhabitants of Āsiri Pāya and the villagers with a lack of false romanticism and thus, avoids the trap that many Sri Lankan writers in English often fall into"

Prelude, A House Down Queer Street
The opening sentences of A House Down Queer Street set the tone for the book: dry, ironical and very Sri Lankan. The novel, by Neshantha Harischandra, opens with a prelude that hints of the story to come and draws the reader into wanting to know more. The novel is narrated by Asiri – a doctor who has just returned to Sri Lanka after a long period overseas. He seems to have returned for some purpose, though what the purpose might be is not clear yet, and the prelude ends with the words “…I have been dreaming of Āsiri Pāya again…”(xii)
The story then plunges back to the days of Asiri’s childhood. His mother takes him to visit her brother’s family at her childhood home, Āsiri Pāya, for the New Year. Asiri and his mother are the “poor relations” visiting the rich ones, something that young Asiri is very conscious about.

“…On the way, Amma would reiterate her advice on my conduct at Asiri Paya. “Be polite to your cousins. Always call them ‘Nangi’- ‘Matilda Nangi’ and ‘Natalie Nangi’ – even if they don’t call you ‘Aiya.’ And when Stella Nanda offers you cake,” she would say solemnly, “take a piece, and say, ‘Thank you.’ When she offers another, politely say, ‘No, thank you.’ Do you understand?”
“Yes, Amma,” I would reply, dutifully, at first.
Half an hour later she would talk again, as if suddenly remembering something important.
“Stella Nanda makes nice cakes. Don’t take more than one piece. She might offer you a second piece, just to be polite, but don’t take it.”
“Yes, Amma,” I would say again, this time, a little less patiently.
An hour or so later, Amma would become talkative again:
“Matilda Nangi and Natalie Nangi are not used to the kind of games you play. They might ask you to play with them – not that they will for sure, but sometimes they might. If they do, play what they ask you to, and don’t suggest anything of your own, even if you don’t like their games. Girls usually play with dolls. And Stella Nanda…”
“Yes, Amma, I won’t eat any of her cake, alright? Not two pieces, not one!”(3-4)

"The story progresses fast and is a compelling read, particularly the first sections of the novel"

The passage is both amusing and convincing, and brilliantly conveys, without spelling things out, some of the complexities of the family relationships surrounding young Asiri. This is one of the great strengths of the novel.
The story progresses fast and is a compelling read, particularly the first sections of the novel. The depiction of young Asiri’s world is very convincing –he understands that he doesn’t belong in the world of his rich relations at Āsiri Pāya, but is powerless to do anything about it. Subsequently, after his mother dies, Asiri’s circumstances change and he is invited to live at Āsiri Pāya. He is, by then, a young medical student and the novel centres on what happens during this period.

The characterisation is strong and the relationships between Asiri, his cousins, Matilda and Natalie, and Stella Nӕnda, are vividly drawn. The novel also describes the social relationships in the village with a close eye. An example is the exchange between the police and Mrs. Tunputtu, where the differences between the rich Tunpattu family, and the policeman questioning them, is shown:

"The novel captures what it is to be the outsider – precariously positioned – close, but not entirely belonging"

The novel falters somewhat towards the last sections due to certain parts of the plot that stretch credibility. These feel like a misstep in a novel that, up to that point, completely immerses the reader in Asiri’s world. But this does not detract from the overall skillfulness of the writing. Particularly moving is the depiction of Asiri’s position at Āsiri Pāya. The novel captures what it is to be the outsider – precariously positioned – close, but not entirely belonging. 
In the last part of the novel, Asiri moves to England to work and the changes in his life– how his friend Manoj teaches him how to adapt to his new surroundings - are also vividly drawn.  We don’t just learn that Asiri had to adjust to a new life, we know that:

He taught me how to vacuum a carpet (never mind the maid!), going from one end of its length to the other, and back again, making it look like the newly-mown tennis court at Peradeniya, with a dark strip alternating with a light one, or the morning garden at Āsiri Pāya, with a pattern on the white sand made with Ukku’s eikel broom.”(186)
The writing is imbued throughout, with this kind of detail, which creates a complete and convincing world. There is a vividness in the way small interactions are described, which makes the writing come alive.

"The writing is imbued throughout, with this kind of detail, which creates a complete and convincing world"

The novel is also notable in another way – it depicts the inhabitants of Āsiri Pāya and the villagers with a lack of false romanticism and thus, avoids the trap that many Sri Lankan writers in English often fall into. It is conscious of the rigid social hierarchies that rule the village community and how the less powerful can be taken advantage of but does not lose sight of the complexities of human behaviour. In this aspect too, it makes an important contribution to English writing in Sri Lanka.

A House Down Queer Street (Novel)
Author - Neshantha Harischandra
Shortlisted for 2017 Gratiaen prize