I have to admit that I decided to read this book because it has a great cover. I should have peeked a bit inside, though, because the cliched chapter titles would have kept me away: Insane in the Membrane, Birds of a Feather Become Extinct Together, etc.
Basically, this is the memoir of a selfish Australian woman's year in India. She sees India as a filthy place full of disgusting people with intolerable cultural habits. And she spends her free time (while her husband is working in other cities or countries on news stories) traveling around India in search of religion. She seems to have a disdain for religion at the same time she seeks out religious celebrities and empty religious experiences.
Perhaps I have negative feelings about the author's view of India because, when I was in India, all I felt was compassion and sadness for the poor around me. What type of person sees poverty and is disgusted by it? I guess it's this type of selfishness that also keeps her from giving a face and a personality to her husband in her writings.