The Twentieth Wife - The review
My dear readers! It feels wonderful to be amidst all of you again. While Sean, George, Ady and Eve live it up in Europe; I find myself setting up a life in India…Delhi, to be precise. The many impositions that college life brings along with itself in the form of assignments, research papers, presentations…the works, had me up to my eyes in work. Yet, I managed to cleave open a window so as to be able to sample the local…not cuisine… literature.
The book that I intend to discuss today belongs to a genre which I love to hate -historical ROMANTIC fiction. What normally goes wrong with books of the said genre is that they tend to drag, but that’s easily amended by a bit of ‘self-editing.’ (C’mon admit it! We all tend to skip a few pages once in a while). Secondly, the romantic overtones of such a novel tend to dilute…or worse…shift the focus away from true historical proceedings. Our book for today, ‘The Twentieth Wife’ by Indu Sunderesan does indeed suffer from at least one of these ailments but somehow manages to redeem itself.
The novel harks back to the Mogul era- an era defined by opulence, luxury, lavishness and lasciviousness! But that is not how Sunderesan begins her tale and why should she? After all, she is in the process of piecing-together a love legend and the unsaid rules dictate that her heroine Mehrunissa must work her way up into luxury’s lap. Oh but the drama of Mehrunissa’s birth during a winter storm in Qandahar is truly breath-taking. This is the point when Sunderesan reveals her true intentions i.e. that of writing a love legend. That her name means ‘Sun among women’is no coincidence, rather it is a very effective literary device for Mehrunissa’s rising also raises her family’s fortunes with her father employed in an important position by the omnipotent emperor Akbar.
It is as a child that Mehrunissa sets eyes on Prince Salim-the emperor’s handsome heir apparent and vows to marry him. Mehrunissa also finds a scathing, sharp-tongued mentor in Akbar’s Chief Queen Ruqqaya Sultan who teaches her to see through the many veneers of life in the zenana (the royal harem) as well as the royal court. Now here’s where the pragmatist in me raises in hand in a very Hermione-esque fashion and asks: How is it that Mehrunissa decides upon the prince as her soulmate when she is a mere child? That isn’t love…that is what I call ‘throwing a Paris Hilton.’Clearly, it is nought but one of the many irrational demands that spoilt rich kids make! And how convenient is it that the chief queen immediately decides to take Mehrunissa under her tutelage and train her in the fine art of bitchery? Here is where the fairytale begins to impose upon history. Let us remember that Mehrunissa is none other than Nur Jahan- the one Empress of India who refused to be a foot-note in History. We see (with an irrepressible glee) as Ruqqaya Sultan’s training pays rich dividends when Mehrunissa faces off against powerful elements at the court who are hell-bent determined to prevent her marriage with the mighty Emperor Jahangir (once the erstwhile Salim) from taking place…in fact the story takes on the garb of ‘Mean Girls’as Mehrunissa and Princess Jagat Gosini (Salim’s chief wife) meet in a cathartic confrontation. No subtle, "There are a lot of people at Versailles tonight, aren't there?" this! Imagine Mehrunissa to be the ashenly pretty Arty-emo chick while Jagat Gosini to be a twinkling cheerleader stereotype i.e. an imperious snob whose ‘daddy’ owns a major part of the country.
To me, the book is a paradox. Decidedly, I am in awe of Sunderesan’s alchemical prose and stunning imagery. So rarefied is her skill that one can’t help but envision some cryptic, supernatural force at work here: as though Sunderesan has a set of little bottles each containing the essences of her characters which she generously dabs onto the pages of the novel. Clearly, the research that has gone into this novel has been meticulously and enthusiastically done. Yet, it can get a little insipid at times but who cares? It is so much fun! Whether or not you will learn any history lessons from this; I cannot guarantee but you will come to appreciate the fact that the Moguls were FETCH…in the true sense of the word. I could swear that my nose caught of a whiff of Chanel No. 5 as Jagat Gosini left in a huff, closing a chapter behind her!
Until next time,
Marius van Muller.
The book that I intend to discuss today belongs to a genre which I love to hate -historical ROMANTIC fiction. What normally goes wrong with books of the said genre is that they tend to drag, but that’s easily amended by a bit of ‘self-editing.’ (C’mon admit it! We all tend to skip a few pages once in a while). Secondly, the romantic overtones of such a novel tend to dilute…or worse…shift the focus away from true historical proceedings. Our book for today, ‘The Twentieth Wife’ by Indu Sunderesan does indeed suffer from at least one of these ailments but somehow manages to redeem itself.
The novel harks back to the Mogul era- an era defined by opulence, luxury, lavishness and lasciviousness! But that is not how Sunderesan begins her tale and why should she? After all, she is in the process of piecing-together a love legend and the unsaid rules dictate that her heroine Mehrunissa must work her way up into luxury’s lap. Oh but the drama of Mehrunissa’s birth during a winter storm in Qandahar is truly breath-taking. This is the point when Sunderesan reveals her true intentions i.e. that of writing a love legend. That her name means ‘Sun among women’is no coincidence, rather it is a very effective literary device for Mehrunissa’s rising also raises her family’s fortunes with her father employed in an important position by the omnipotent emperor Akbar.
It is as a child that Mehrunissa sets eyes on Prince Salim-the emperor’s handsome heir apparent and vows to marry him. Mehrunissa also finds a scathing, sharp-tongued mentor in Akbar’s Chief Queen Ruqqaya Sultan who teaches her to see through the many veneers of life in the zenana (the royal harem) as well as the royal court. Now here’s where the pragmatist in me raises in hand in a very Hermione-esque fashion and asks: How is it that Mehrunissa decides upon the prince as her soulmate when she is a mere child? That isn’t love…that is what I call ‘throwing a Paris Hilton.’Clearly, it is nought but one of the many irrational demands that spoilt rich kids make! And how convenient is it that the chief queen immediately decides to take Mehrunissa under her tutelage and train her in the fine art of bitchery? Here is where the fairytale begins to impose upon history. Let us remember that Mehrunissa is none other than Nur Jahan- the one Empress of India who refused to be a foot-note in History. We see (with an irrepressible glee) as Ruqqaya Sultan’s training pays rich dividends when Mehrunissa faces off against powerful elements at the court who are hell-bent determined to prevent her marriage with the mighty Emperor Jahangir (once the erstwhile Salim) from taking place…in fact the story takes on the garb of ‘Mean Girls’as Mehrunissa and Princess Jagat Gosini (Salim’s chief wife) meet in a cathartic confrontation. No subtle, "There are a lot of people at Versailles tonight, aren't there?" this! Imagine Mehrunissa to be the ashenly pretty Arty-emo chick while Jagat Gosini to be a twinkling cheerleader stereotype i.e. an imperious snob whose ‘daddy’ owns a major part of the country.
To me, the book is a paradox. Decidedly, I am in awe of Sunderesan’s alchemical prose and stunning imagery. So rarefied is her skill that one can’t help but envision some cryptic, supernatural force at work here: as though Sunderesan has a set of little bottles each containing the essences of her characters which she generously dabs onto the pages of the novel. Clearly, the research that has gone into this novel has been meticulously and enthusiastically done. Yet, it can get a little insipid at times but who cares? It is so much fun! Whether or not you will learn any history lessons from this; I cannot guarantee but you will come to appreciate the fact that the Moguls were FETCH…in the true sense of the word. I could swear that my nose caught of a whiff of Chanel No. 5 as Jagat Gosini left in a huff, closing a chapter behind her!
Until next time,
Marius van Muller.
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2 comments:
osum work keep it up!!!
u r gone help in my english papper comin nxt week!!lolzzzz
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