Review: God in Drag by Kristine Madera

A touching tale of humility, healing, and the unpredictable paths of every soul, God in Drag by Kristine Madera is a travel novel that positively shines with humanity.

Micah Connerly has spent over a year in India searching for his absent stepfather, a holy man named Raj who doesn’t seem interested in being found. Criss-crossing the sprawling country to reconnect with this last remnant of his family, Micah has arrived in the sacred city of Varanasi, and the ashram where Raj allegedly stayed. After performing a simple act of compassion, Micah’s own health and future are put in jeopardy, so he volunteers at a local hospice in exchange for medical treatment.

Along with a handful of other Western volunteers, Micah’s days are filled with caring for patients at the end of their mortal journey, and seeking answers to the question that has haunted him since leaving commune life back in California. Hunting for a semi-mythological figure from his past draws him into an intense spectrum of experience and enigmatic clues around Varanasi, from secretive rendezvous at ashrams and half-told truths from trusted mentors to shadowy revelations that make him more of a local target than a long-term tourist. Aided by the ragtag cadre of fellow volunteers, Micah puts his past and future on the line, even if it means being swept away by a monsoon of dark truth.

While India is a popular setting for novels of self-discovery, Madera has crafted a fascinating story that is heightened by the locale, but not exclusively driven by it. Unlike other sweeping travelogues about the land of the Indus, the author doesn’t overly romanticize or patronize the culture; every character that surrounds Micah is humanized by their imperfections and foibles, from Amit’s secrecy and Thad’s skepticism of non-Western medicine to the questionable circumstances of Kate’s service and Amy’s wolf-in-sheep’s clothing naiveté.

Micah’s recollections of his cherished time with Raj as a child are heartfelt and evocative, so intimately told that it can feel autobiographical, and more than justifies the epic quest that has overtaken the protagonist’s life. His relentless search for Raj and his lost sense of home is mirrored beautifully by the work he does at Charitable Heart, helping others on their long walk home. Given the hospital setting and Micah’s uncertain diagnosis, mortality and the meaning of life are prominent themes, which allow for deep explorations into Hindu dogma, civic tradition, individual purpose, and the endless cycle of rebirth.

The writing style is poignant and sharply original, graced with unique turns of phrase, sensorial descriptions, and a believably flawed protagonist that readers will genuinely root for. The narration is visceral but unforgettable, feeling both natural and carefully crafted, while the dialogue is authentic and accessible, transporting readers into the common rooms and revelatory conversations that drive the plot, gradually revealing character depth and motives, rather than being used solely as vehicles for exposition.

Philosophical and insightful, Madera’s novel is a delight of a read, with passionate prose that elevates this Eastern bildungsroman into a heady masterwork of literary fiction.