And exquisite and empyreal beauty hangs over the stories in ‘Monkfish Moon’; they are not the kind of stories which shock you with their brilliance, instead they lull you with their deftness, which drawn you in with their quiescence and quietude; the type of stories which you are liable to forget only to be shocked into remembrance of the one of the small, unnoticed details which are interspersed in so many of the stories, whether it be the gentle pulsations of the stars in the endless blackness of the Sri Lankan sky, or the blaze of harlequin colours on a busy street.

The narrator is often uncertain about the true motivations and thoughts of the characters they are depicting; the reader is treated to peeks into their thoughts and motivations, however these peeks are often shrouded via a fog of uncertainty. There are no easy answers in the collection of the stories, so whether it be the coquettish (or just friendly) tourist and her potential flirtation with the narrator of ‘Captives’ of the silence which dominates the relationship between Nalini and Tiru, readers are often left to draw their own conclusions on stories which often don’t have any, instead acting as snapshots on the lives of the characters it depicts.