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deepan2486's review
4.0
“The Cowherd Prince” strikes a chord in a sense befitting of a premise, that leads up to a meticulously crafted adventure to follow—which is the Aryavarta Chronicles. Not having read the series, I majorly wanted to inhale the scent of the book like I inhale the fragrance of an unknown wildflower in my known garden. A confusion came to me—do I take this book as something to be read after someone has read the books in the Aryavarta Chronicles, or is it to be devoured as a fresh start to something exciting? Turns out, a reader can choose to do both.
Over the years, Krishna has garnered immense sophistication—as the god who is sometimes seen beside his beloved Radha, sometimes dancing with the calves with a flute, but also as a warrior deft in the art of military warfare and politics. Govinda is also seen as a master tactician, with intelligence like a gleaming edge of a sword, who convinces and enchants people by his charm—to ultimately become a figure who induces awe and devotion.
Contrary to the other deities, I had always kept Krishna on a somewhat friendly pedestal, someone who is a charismatic companion to all sorts of people. His mischief that glints like gold among his mature decisions, his friskiness and playfulness, and also his comfort at wielding worldly power, bestowed upon him as a bright incarnation. All these made Govinda stay with me ageless and without any hesitation, sparking curiosity and joy.
Udayasankar’s Govinda is a manifestation of all philosophies that Krishna has been associated with over the years, with such associations decorating her character with gleaming traits and distinctions. Quite far from setting up Krishna as a flawless deity who roots for devotion, Udayasankar’s Govinda is an identity negligibly divine, but with the same promising charm. Govinda’s character shines bright through his effortless charisma, through his utter kindness and luminous acceptance. His sense of justice, his affection for his dear ones, his anchorage at dignity and his innocence— time after time we are reminded of these, as the author sets us off into an adventure hard to forget.
The books stepping stone in every segment is always a transition from one dramatic setting to another, with the characters moving in and out of the stage crafting conversations and administering ploys. A lot in the book is told through its mastery in constructing immaculate, diverse strategies and innovative, jagged backdrops to make the events resonate even more. Within every part of the story, there is a vibrating thrill of something building up in the hindsight, of some conspiracy happening parallelly and some sub-plot starting to show its true colours. Truly enough, “The Cowherd Prince” strikes a chord with its massive innovation and well-supervised emphasis on building the story and taking it forward.
The riskiest part of the story was perhaps recasting Krishna into the humane Govinda, without indulging in alterations which might make the characterization essence barely recognizable. There could also have been much toil in making this fictitious retelling curve itself around some basic standpoints which define the main mythical tale, but also adding in embellishments to modernize the perspectives. Udayasankar’s book can therefore be cited as an exemplary work where there is bewilderment in demarcating innovation from all things traditional, and defining the differences between what is told and what is made of it. Creative liberty dances in the pages, but the fragrance of textual adherences often wafts in.
Even with the avalanche of information sometimes taking the liberty to baffle the readers a little, Udayasankar’s story maintains a stronghold in its execution. She lets her characters play around in bounded zones of moral dilemmas, but she also sometimes lets them wander off into unfamiliar arenas teeming with surprises. This seepage of carefully arranged sub-plots into one another, coupled with a progressive lift that allows the main climax to come closer and closer—urges us to witness the story, and not just read it on paper.
Refinement and balance are the pillars supporting the storyline like no other. The character set is distinct and solid, each equipped with shades of clarity and fuzziness, providing a comfortable blend of their respective roles into the primary plot. Their web of allegiances and loyalties is complex both in physical and emotional senses, and it is hard to place them in zones of black or white. Unpredictable and marvellously agile, these characters are hard to forget. In this colourful mythical fantasy, the psychological transition of Govinda from a cowherd boy to an ‘accidental prince’ is what is most attractive. This is the side of Krishna which is often rushed or overlooked, and in the original tale, we are almost never given the freedom of gazing at Govinda as he transforms his agencies to suit the need of the hour, and the welfare of his kinsmen. ‘The Cowherd Prince’ attempts to provide to us just that—a teleportation into the surroundings that shape and mould Govinda, and makes him assert his choices while keeping true to his promises.
Thanks to the author for the review copy.
Over the years, Krishna has garnered immense sophistication—as the god who is sometimes seen beside his beloved Radha, sometimes dancing with the calves with a flute, but also as a warrior deft in the art of military warfare and politics. Govinda is also seen as a master tactician, with intelligence like a gleaming edge of a sword, who convinces and enchants people by his charm—to ultimately become a figure who induces awe and devotion.
Contrary to the other deities, I had always kept Krishna on a somewhat friendly pedestal, someone who is a charismatic companion to all sorts of people. His mischief that glints like gold among his mature decisions, his friskiness and playfulness, and also his comfort at wielding worldly power, bestowed upon him as a bright incarnation. All these made Govinda stay with me ageless and without any hesitation, sparking curiosity and joy.
Udayasankar’s Govinda is a manifestation of all philosophies that Krishna has been associated with over the years, with such associations decorating her character with gleaming traits and distinctions. Quite far from setting up Krishna as a flawless deity who roots for devotion, Udayasankar’s Govinda is an identity negligibly divine, but with the same promising charm. Govinda’s character shines bright through his effortless charisma, through his utter kindness and luminous acceptance. His sense of justice, his affection for his dear ones, his anchorage at dignity and his innocence— time after time we are reminded of these, as the author sets us off into an adventure hard to forget.
The books stepping stone in every segment is always a transition from one dramatic setting to another, with the characters moving in and out of the stage crafting conversations and administering ploys. A lot in the book is told through its mastery in constructing immaculate, diverse strategies and innovative, jagged backdrops to make the events resonate even more. Within every part of the story, there is a vibrating thrill of something building up in the hindsight, of some conspiracy happening parallelly and some sub-plot starting to show its true colours. Truly enough, “The Cowherd Prince” strikes a chord with its massive innovation and well-supervised emphasis on building the story and taking it forward.
The riskiest part of the story was perhaps recasting Krishna into the humane Govinda, without indulging in alterations which might make the characterization essence barely recognizable. There could also have been much toil in making this fictitious retelling curve itself around some basic standpoints which define the main mythical tale, but also adding in embellishments to modernize the perspectives. Udayasankar’s book can therefore be cited as an exemplary work where there is bewilderment in demarcating innovation from all things traditional, and defining the differences between what is told and what is made of it. Creative liberty dances in the pages, but the fragrance of textual adherences often wafts in.
Even with the avalanche of information sometimes taking the liberty to baffle the readers a little, Udayasankar’s story maintains a stronghold in its execution. She lets her characters play around in bounded zones of moral dilemmas, but she also sometimes lets them wander off into unfamiliar arenas teeming with surprises. This seepage of carefully arranged sub-plots into one another, coupled with a progressive lift that allows the main climax to come closer and closer—urges us to witness the story, and not just read it on paper.
Refinement and balance are the pillars supporting the storyline like no other. The character set is distinct and solid, each equipped with shades of clarity and fuzziness, providing a comfortable blend of their respective roles into the primary plot. Their web of allegiances and loyalties is complex both in physical and emotional senses, and it is hard to place them in zones of black or white. Unpredictable and marvellously agile, these characters are hard to forget. In this colourful mythical fantasy, the psychological transition of Govinda from a cowherd boy to an ‘accidental prince’ is what is most attractive. This is the side of Krishna which is often rushed or overlooked, and in the original tale, we are almost never given the freedom of gazing at Govinda as he transforms his agencies to suit the need of the hour, and the welfare of his kinsmen. ‘The Cowherd Prince’ attempts to provide to us just that—a teleportation into the surroundings that shape and mould Govinda, and makes him assert his choices while keeping true to his promises.
Thanks to the author for the review copy.
sahibooknerd's review
adventurous
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
tense
fast-paced
4.5
It’s probably more of a 4.5.
This is a very common term that I use in my reviews - “as a self proclaimed Mahabharata fan” - but it is true because I love reading any versions of the epic I can get my hands on. One such reimagination that really captivated me was the Aryavarta Chronicles, so when I saw that the author was releasing a prequel featuring my favorite character from the trilogy, I knew I had to read it. It was disappointing to see that the book didn’t have a US release but the author was very sweet and sent me an eARC, and I’m so thankful for the opportunity.
Govinda Shauri was an absolute enigma in the original trilogy and I was completely in love with his character, and this book only cemented my love for him even more. The author doesn’t start off the story from his birth or from his parent’s imprisonment like most Krishna’s stories go - this describes only a few important incidents that lead to Govinda’s first trip to Mathura, and I thought it was a great choice by the author. This makes for a very fast paced plot, with life changing events happening at breakneck speed, keeping me totally hooked and unable to put the book down. And just like the trilogy, there are also a lot of political and philosophical arguments which I thoroughly enjoyed, and some of the themes related to oppression, the greed for power, the importance of building movements for and by the common people - these all touched a nerve, especially in the aftermath of the American election and all the shenanigans happening around.
Govinda as a character is hard not to love - he is charming, intelligent, has a way with words that can convince anyone, a strong conviction to defy the laws of the land put forth by the powerful and do something bigger for the welfare of the many - this sense of justice in his heart is so well articulated by the author in the dialogue that I felt mesmerized and kept wishing him to succeed in all his schemes. Balabhadra on the other hand may seem like he doesn’t like the person his brother is becoming, but their bond is unbreakable and I enjoyed watching them anticipate each other’s thoughts and act accordingly. There were quite a few other impactful side characters, but I particularly enjoyed the banter between Govinda and Yuyudhana, and how their relationship changed from being adversaries to one full of trust.
In conclusion, this is very engaging tale of how a common man came to be a master strategist and kingmaker within this world of Aryavarta, and it is full of memorable characters and intense situations, and even more unforgettable thought provoking discussions that feel very relevant to our real world. I really hope that the author has plans to continue this prequel into a series because I’m not ready to let it go yet.
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