Curfewed Night and Fire on the Mountain (thoughts)

Y’all, I had no idea how far behind I’d fallen as far as posting about books I’ve read (and I still haven’t tried to update the list)!!! It’s almost a good thing that I didn’t get to that many books in February, because I have more than enough to keep me blogging for ages already. In fact, on Tuesday I sat down ready to post and was so paralysed with indecision that I ended up not writing any kind of post. And then yesterday I was exhausted! But today, I’m just going to jump in with both feet and write about two very different books, united by their authors’ Indian citizenship.

Curfewed Night by Basharat Peer is an account of life in Kashmir by a Kashmiri journalist based in Delhi. I have been interested in Kashmir since reading (and rereading) my favourite Rushdie novel, Shalimar the Clown (if you’re looking for an incredible audiobook, do pick it up), so when I saw it pop up in my library catalogue, I had to give it a go. It’s partly a memoir, with Peer describing his childhood in a Kashmir that gradually became a war zone, and it’s partly an investigative journalistic account of Kashmir’s recent history and current troubles. While I was already moderately familiar with Kashmir’s history, I think someone without any previous knowledge could learn a lot from Curfewed Night. Peer writes with a Western audience in mind, making sure that he includes enough explanations and background material so that a reader can put the events in context. The balance is quite good, and Peer excels at putting a human face on the larger tragedy of the conflict. He includes interviews and life stories from a variety of Kashmiris, including militants. When he’s writing about individual people, the book really comes to life. That being said, his writing was occasionally a bit, well, pedestrian; when I put it down, I never thought to myself ‘gee, I can’t wait to pick it back up’ or decided to sneak in a few extra chapters from eagerness. Part of this is that Peer’s account is almost entirely populated by men; he is marvelous at articulating the effect of growing up in such a conflict on boys and their fathers and grandfathers, but the women merely get a brief mention here or there as an afterthought. Obviously, as a man himself, Peer probably found himself naturally more focused on his schoolfriends and the larger male circle he was a part of. But I think the book would have been a bit more interesting, for me at least, if Peer had remembered to include a bit more about the girls and women. I’m definitely glad that I’ve read it, and I’d recommend it to anyone curious about Kashmir. But I’d also suggest reading Sudha Koul’s The Tiger Ladies for the feminine perspective (you can read my gushing description if you so desire). As for me, I have a few more Kashmiri-themed books in my sights: In the Valley of Mists by by Justine Hardy, Chef: A Novel by Jaspreet Singh, and Kashmir: Roots of Conflict, Paths to Peace by Sumantra Bose.

While not as far north as Kashmir, Anita Desai’s slim novel Fire on the Mountain is still set in a Himalayan retreat. This was my first experience with Desai, and I was a bit nervous since I didn’t get along overly well with her daughter, Kiran Desai’s, Inheritance of Loss. But once I opened up Fire on the Mountain and read the first page, I relaxed; the writing was so powerful I knew I was in good hands. And so it proved; I adored every moment I spent with this book, and I can’t wait to read the rest of Anita Desai’s backlist. One of the neatest things, for me, is that the focus of the novel is an old woman, Nanda Kaul; it seems like most of the fiction I come across is about younger people (middle aged at most), or maybe an old man here or there. As I hope to be an old woman myself one day, I perked up to see one in literature! And Kaul’s a great character, completely memorable. Her narrative voice sounded so strong and true to me, as she reflected on a life spent caring for her family, and her fierce and unapologetic desire to dedicate her remaining time to herself and avoid other people. Of course, since this is a novel, things must change, and change presents itself in the form of her great granddaughter Raka, sent to the mountains to convalesce. Raka is also portrayed as original and memorable; Desai seems to have a deft touch when it comes to characterisation. I won’t say more, except that every moment of the story felt so real. This is a character rather than plot driven book, which I happen to love, especially when it’s accompanied by stunning writing. At only 160 pages, this is a great way to get a taste for Desai, and I’d highly recommend it. As for me, I’m reading her books that my library has in publishing order, being with the oldest (Fire on the Mountain was published in 1977), so next up for me is Clear Light of Day. I can’t wait!

Do you have a favourite Indian author?