Well,writing a review for Salman Rushdie or any such
heavyweight is like telling Lata where all did she falter in her rendition and
how square should the bat be for a square drive to Sachin.
However, since I spent close to two weeks reading it please
let me feel like a John Updike or a Pankaj Mishra for sometime.
The whole book is divided into five sections – India,
Boonyi, Max, Shalimar the clown and Kashmira.
Generally, in three of the sections namely – Boonyi, Max,
Shalimar the clown…Rushdie pirouettes, dives, scoops, trapezes, somersaults
with words as usual, conjures magic, casts spells, philosophizes and paints
such a romantic picture on his canvas that you are spellbound by this man’s
capability to conjure up what is call magical realism. In another breath you
can say he has at times brandished his genre and capability in that art a
little too much. Perhaps, Gabriel Garcia Marquez and James Joyce from whom
Rushdie sought his magical realism inspiration, both would wince at such an
opulent magical realism if they were to read it.
In fact, this piece
of his has a lot more sanity and coherence than ‘The Satanic Verses’(understood just 30-40% of it because it
insanely shuttles between myriad scenes, settings and locales. Its allusions to
Greek Mythology to the characters from British soaps and advertisements and
more…my own low general awareness being one of the major factors) or for that
matter even ‘Midnight’s children’(Midnight’s
children would score heavily in terms of the narrative which is not as fragmented).
‘Shalimar the clown’ reads like a
different book in the first and last chapter. In the interregnum is where he
justifies his literary giant status.
One problem with his allusions, references and opulent, at
times forced magical realism is that his characters become puppets and that
quells the development of multi -dimensions in the characters. A touch of
lyrical quality in his writing, he careens a lot towards determinism which
makes it awkward to take with his liberalism. With references of Rahu-Ketu the
invisible antagonistic forces shaping up things and other invisible phantoms,
sorcery, demons and prognostications he renders his characters helpless.
Perhaps, that is the worldview he wants to share with us and to an extent most
of us would agree that however much we might want to be in control most of it
is beyond us.
A little of his usage of portent and omens is a reminder of Shakespeare
(whatever little I have read) where certain spooky bizarre events would augur
the forthcoming devastation and destruction(It happens on so many occasions in
this book . Rushdie does it beautifully and you can at times feel that like an
involved raconteur he holds the audience charmed.
The way he shapes up his events and characters(if he shapes
them up and doesn’t capture them under the effect of hallucinogens) and
proceeds, tells a lot about his outlook having the reference frame of ‘the butterfly effect i.e. sensitive dependence on initial conditions an important aspect of chaos theory’.
Shalimar the clown can be rated a few notches below
Midnight’s children if you consider the whole narrative but if you were to
consider a third of the book it has been written by a divine hand and can
compare to the best of writings of contemporary literature. Perhaps he borrowed
God’s pen to write those parts, if I can overshadow in my flourish the aspect
of his atheism.
His inconsistency is the failing of the book. The
disappointment is most acute at the end of the book which ends like a B-grade
Bollywood movie. Kashmir is forgotten, the tales and travails of the people
loses grip on you and you are propelled from a poignant tale of love-betrayal
and the tale of Kashmir to an inadequately sketched revenge tale.You can’t but
help but remember those revenge sagas of Bollywood and Hollywood and that
brings down the divinity.
There are certain anachronisms for Soap operas on the Television of Harud
Yambarzal…Late eighties we never had soaps on tv and moreover there were no
‘item numbers’ then…Abdullah not remembering Firdaus’ birthday is again too
urbane an idea for Kasmiri village folks.
At some places he has ignored some aspects like Hamirdev
Kacchawa the army officer remains throughout his career spanning 30 years in Kashmir only. That isn’t the way postings in the armed
forces work.
The tale specific
ruminations:
The story as it was, should have remained the story of
Kashmir which he tells beautifully through…Shalimar the clown, Boonyi,
Abdullah, Pyarelal kaul, shiv sagar sharga,zoon misri, nazarebaddor, himal ,
gonwanti, greego brothers, Max Ophuls, Firdaus, Pamposh, Bombur, Harud, Peggy
Ophuls, Kashmira, Hamirdev Kacchawa, Woods,Big man misri, yuvraj, Sardar
Harbans…and some others.
Pandit Pyarelal Kaul’s musings and philosophizing is
beautifully captured….
Boonyi’s character developed the best, multi dimensional and
the one which comes out as living the most.
Shalimar the clown however, doesn’t blossom as a character
as much as Boonyi does. You can sense his undying , insane love for Boonyi when
he says after they make love at Khelmarg
– “Don’t you leave me now, or I’ll never forgive you, and I’ll have my revenge,
I’ll kill you and if you have any childen by another man, I’ll kill the
children also” which is taken as a sweet nothing by Boonyi. However, that is
the pivot of the whole saga. After Boonyi betrays him despite the exemplary
support of Pachigam for their marriage the disappointment, hatred,
embarrassment has been a little underplayed. He becomes a senseless zombie in a
murderous rage.
That is why Boonyi’s character evokes a lot more response in
whatever happens to it.
The episode when Boonyi leaves Kashmir for Delhi and how
heart in heart she knows she will never see him again and the way the deal is
struck between Max and Boonyi(“Don’t ask for my heart, because I am tearing it
away and…..I’ll be heartless but you will not know it because a I’ll be a
perfect counterfeit of a loving woman and you ‘ll receive a perfect forgery of
love” ) in such a cold manner that it gives the reader a chill and disgust so
deep that you can identify with Shalimar the clown’s hatred. The episode
beautifully describes her disappointment with her new life and how she misses Kashmir and Pachigam, her folks.
The episode when
Boonyi comes back to Pachigam disgraced…the treatment is super sensitive and
Rushdie weaves in gold here. The blizzard, how Boonyi hears nothing and can see
shadows dancing around her; ignorance of her father and Zoon’s telling her that
they have declared her dead officially and how
the living dead live is very heart rending. Later at night when her
father comes over and talks too her from outside in the dead of the night is a
heart breaker and could not have been dealt with better. His one way speech
about the living dead is a pure magic of imagery, hindu philosophy and Kabir’s
philosophy about the living dead. Rushdie has touched the frontiers of
excellence here and you can’t help but exult after each paragraph by sheer
admiration for the master.
What could have been a tale of Kashmir by a
raconteur who is par excellence
It felt like a forced fusion razzmatazz.
Overall a good reading but as soon as you try and cast
Rushdie into some kind of literary Godhood ,Rushdie disappoints. And there is no
place for a fallen God in my personal pantheon, at least for now in my ‘personal
unenlightened opinion’.
