(Paperback)
An American businessman visiting Peshawar, Pakistan, vanishes from his hotel room. The only clue is an enigmatic message in blood scrawled on the Coke machine. A series of murders follows. But in a country where half the population is hidden beneath chadors, tracking a murderer can be difficult.
A satire on Islamic society and its treatment of women. Presented as a murder mystery, it features a Pakistani detective and an American woman journalist searching for her missing brother, a salesman of prefabricated houses.
Synopsis copyright Fiction Digest
"[An] exotic and mordantly amusing mystery."-People, page-turner of the week
Cheryl Benard is the author of many nonfiction books; she lives in Austria and Maryland.
Both a wickedly funny cross-cultural comedy of errors and an edgy murder mystery, Benard's lively debut begins with the disappearance of timid, pudgy U.S. businessman Micky Malone in Peshawar, an ultraconservative, crime-ridden Pakistani backwater on the Afghan border. As other corpses pile up (victims include a Pakistani banker, a closeted gay Indian movie star and an anti-American Islamic fundamentalist publisher), dogged but inept Detective Iqbal stumbles from suspect to suspect. Bernard choreographs a series of comic misunderstandings (between East and West, men and women), training withering irony on a range of characters: Mara Blake, an earnest American refugee-camp worker reeling from her failed marriage to a wealthy Pakistani; the Maulana, a self-righteous Islamic fundamentalist televangelist; Fatima, his young housemaid and pregnant sex-slave; and the Maulana's nephew and chauffeur, Mushahed, a leftist economics student in love with Fatima. Even if the comedy occasionally sputters with indignation, Benard nimbly swings from farce to social satire, describing with devastating wit and fiery feminist passion Pakistani sexism, censorship, corruption and human rights abuses. (May)
More Reviews and RecommendationsCheryl Benard is the author of many nonfiction books; she lives in Austria and Maryland.
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February 23, 2002: The action moves along at a fast clip, as colorful character after colorful character is added to the mix. You can read it for the social commentary, or you can read it for fun. Or you can read it twice, like I did!
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August 10, 2001: Moghul Buffet is like a decked-out parade with its perfect combination of sights, sounds, and touches which will leave you thrilled by its hilarity that stems from a great many ancient traditions and a couple too many overzealous assumptions. Meet Micky Malone--overweight, pale, and kind of a wimp, but he's a good wimp, who goes to Peshawar, the backland of Pakistan's North-West-Frontier-Province to forge a deal for West-Fab industries in Maryland. After a run-in with the formidable Walid Khan, the kind of mafia ringleader of Peshawar, Micky begins to fear for his life. When he disappears and a message smeared in blood is left on an ice machine, authorities suspect the worst: an international relations crisis. Thus our dashing hero from Islamabad Iqbal, is called onto the scene. Iqbal who has little patience for the backward chauvinism of Peshawar, and whose wife and her nosy journalist-friend, Lilly are ready for some frontier excitement. As bodies start turning up everywhere, it appears to be more than they have bargained for. Yet what do a Westerner, an Afghan attorney, a low-class banker, an Indian film star, a fundamentalist newspaper-publisher, and television broad-casting, soccer-hating Maulana have in common? Where do Mara Blake, a Western woman with a failed marriage to a Pakistani; Fatima, the lecherous Maulana's secret little sex-slave; Mushahed, Walid Khan's idealistic nephew, and Shabnam, a powerful Pakistani feminist fit in? What do you do when the victim's sister, Julia, also a journalist, comes traipsing onto the crime scene demanding answers? Why are the refugees along the Afghan border suddenly building a latrine for their chador-clad women? As all this comes marching through right in front of the cultured eyes of Iqbal, we are met with witty commentary by an undisclosed narrator, the private thoughts and blunders of each character, and a definition of what a 'Belly-Gram' is. Author Benard gives us her own cryptic message of real feminism, as well as a new understanding of life in the Wild, Wild West, or rather, North-West.