The Hill of Devi: An Englishman at the Court of a Maratha Maharaja: An Englishman at the Court of a Maratha Maharaja in 1921 (Eland classics): An Englishman serving at the Court of a Maharaja

I’m with the group of people who have never read anything by E. M. Forster, I had heard of his work but never had a copy to read. The Hill of Devi gives you a real good feel for the man and I think it will give me an added level of knowledge when I get around to reading his work.This book covers the time Forster spent in India, both as a visitor and for work. This was in a time when the British set the rules and local rulers tried to adapt. Forster comes across as very considerate, while he is a bit out of his depth, he does his best to help in a situation that is quite crazy at times. One of my favourite parts of this book is him showing his dedication to the local customs by training his feet to be tougher ready for when shoes must be removed. He witnesses all the religious festivals and is quite blown away at times with the epic events that go on. The book is a collection of his edited letters, and you can really feel his love for the place and its people, his descriptions of the scenery were marvellous, but his writing truly comes alive when he is invited to a party, he is a man who loves to see how things are organised…he even goes into detail mapping the layout of his plate at one meal. In between the letters Forster gives the reader a bit of insight into what was happening, how he felt and who was involved, this does a grand job tying all the letters together.The last pages of the book cover the events that happened after he left India and it’s all rather sad how quickly things fell apart and you can see how much it affected him. This was a very interesting read, seeing as these events all happened at the time Forster was writing A Passage to India, but I felt there was one thing missing, the letters have been edited too much, all the personal details have been removed, family gossip and maybe the odd complaint, I recently read Mary Wortley Montagu letters where those bits were left in, and it worked for me. Maybe I’m just a big old gossip!