The reason why I avoided Jhumpa Lahiri for years are the titles of her books. I minored in the English literature of the subcontinent in college, so now I jump on every book with an Indian name on the cover.
Lahiri’s titles were too off-putting, though. Unaccustomed Earth sounds hippy-dippy. I could imagine leafing through it while waiting for the new products section of the Goop website to load. Interpreter of Maladies sounds like some magical realism crap. And I’ve had to read enough of that garbage in Spanish. This is a case of the text and the titles speaking to completely different audiences.

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