Sunday December 30, 2007
Great first, lukewarm second
Reviews by SHAKEEL ABEDI
David Davidar’s two books may both be set in India but they couldn’t be more different.
THE SOLITUDE OF EMPERORS
By David Davidar
Publisher: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 320 pages
ISBN: 978-0297852809
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However, here we look at Davidar’s own effort at writing. The first was The House of Blue Mangoes, which made its debut in 2002. His newest effort, The Solitude of Emperors, is an apt book that explores the rise of religious fundamentalism and the scant regard this sometimes offers to human life.
In this book, Davidar takes us on a journey with his chief protagonist, Vijay, whose first wish is to escape his hometown, K-.
Why does Davidar use K- instead of giving the place a proper name? Well, I asked writer Sharon Bakar to ask him (see her interview with Davidar on SM9), and she reported that his matter-of-fact answer was: “So it could represent any small town.”
I am not certain it did the intended job, though. The word jarred at reading and more often than not broke the flow.
Anyhow, Vijay makes it to Bombay and begins working for a magazine called The Indian Secularist. His editor, Sorabjee, becomes his hero.
As a journalist, Vijay gets involved in the riots that erupt after the razing of the Babri mosque. (Davidar skilfully describes the riot scenes, and this could mean that he has kept abreast of Hindu-Muslim inter-communal violence that has plagued the northern Indian town of Ayodhya where the Babri mosque was torn down in a riot in 1992.)
Vijay is then sent to Meham in the Nilgiris, to investigate racial tension brewing at a place called “Tower of God’’. He meets Noah, an eccentric character who reads European poets and whose Rabelaisian nature is a great contrast to his own. This is where Vijay uncovers a plan to disrupt the Feast Day and take over the Tower of God, a mainly Christian place of worship that is visited by all races.
Intertwined in the book is a manuscript by Sorabjee that Vijay is reading, the titular The Solitude of Emperors. It is a study of three great Indians: Asoka, the king who became a Buddhist after seeing the devastation of war; Akber, the Mughal emperor who strived to create a new religion called Deen e Ilahi by taking the best from every religion; and Gandhi, the little man in a loin cloth who led the non-violent struggle for Indian independence.
This is a greatly readable book but it falls short in its telling. It lacks the expansive and vividly portrayed characterisation of his first book. Noah, for instance, who is certainly the most engrossing character in the book, could have been explored in more depth.
The tone used in Solitude is deliberate, and, perhaps in keeping with the character of the narrator, a tad drab. And the conclusion leaves too many questions hanging.
In the end, one wonders if Solitude was hurried into publication, if Davidar rushed to meet a deadline? The pen that created a memorable first effort t seemed to be in a rush with this book.
THE HOUSE OF BLUE MANGOES
By David Davidar
Publisher: Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 352 pages
ISBN: 978-1861591969
Davidar’s The House of Blue Mangoes, in contrast, is a brilliant book. The sprawling saga of Chevathar Gnanaprakasam Solomon Dorai Andavar and his progeny has been translated into 16 languages and was, on its 2003 release, a much-anticipated book that kept its promise, as Davidar wove an intricate tale of the Dorai family, beginning in 1899 and spanning five decades.
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It begins with the rape oa 13-year-old Valli, which sets the stage for the turmoil that Solomon Dorai, the headman, has to face.
It describes life in Southern India as very few novelists have. Davidar’s characters come to vivid life, and there are a myriad of them.
The first part of the book ends in tragedy on a battlefield when Solomon Dorai and his generation are killed. But in India, where nothing is ever “interred with the bones’’, the hopes and fears and aspirations are carried on to the next generation.
The House of Blue Mangoes took me by surprise and kept me engrossed throughout. And that, I am sure, is what makes a compelling read – even to someone like Davidar.
Related Stories:
Davidar in a nutshell
Finding his own stride
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