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Exoticism
Mandira Banerjee
Finally, there it was, a tiny house, almost a playhouse, with mud walls and straw on the roof like in my storybook pictures. Mother knocked on the door, and after a while an old man came out. He squinted at us in surprise, but when she told him who we were, he took us in and gave us some puffed rice and sweet creamy milk. From his own cow, he told me, as he watched me gulp it down. Then he ruffled my hair and sent me to the backyard to play with the chickens. I had never seen real live chickens up close before and immediately loved how they squawked and flapped their wings and how fast they could run when chased." - From "Arranged Marriage" by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, 1995.
It was these engrossing details of India's smells, sights and tastes that first caught the eye of Western readers. Then came Arundhati Roy's "The God of Small Things," which won the Booker Prize in 1997 and was a sensation across Europe and the U.S. It has sold more than 200,000 copies and has been translated into 18 languages. The book opened a new avenue for Indian writing in English to reach Western readers.
Overnight, articles about Indian authors clinching record deals started appearing. From the storyline to its treatment, while a number of books spoke of "Indianness" in different ways, drawing on an astonishing range of experiences from across the subcontinent, an international readership saw these works as 'exotica'.
The exotic appeal came in different forms - sometimes presented as a clash of cultures via relationships in stories, women as victims, wretched lives of poverty and squalor, colonial domination of one set of people, and so on.
Much of the Indian writing dealt with a clash of cultures, either in America or in India, between the old and the new, often with a sense of feeling lost, trapped and confused.
But that was seven years ago. Since then, the euphoria for Indian writing in English appears to have become muted. There is even talk of Indian writing being passé. And an increasing number of agents and critics alike are reluctant to talk about Indian writing as a 'hot' commodity in literary circles. British publisher and literary agent Jane Lawson, who represented Arundhati Roy, was recently quoted as saying that there is a sense of fatigue about Indian novels post-Arundhati Roy.
"Indian writing is passé, yes, but only if we talk about it in a generic sense," says Jane Lawson, senior editor at Doubleday Publishing in London. "Literary gothic fantasy seems to be the 'in' thing at the moment. It's the small-town novel with the greedy buffalo and the lazy sons and the duplicitous in-laws, etc., that paints a small picture with traditional themes; these sorts of novels often don't resonate beyond themselves, that are small, intimate - they don't really take off any more. That sort of exoticism is not appealing any more," she explains.
Authors across the board concur. "Cultural clash is passé, actually it's 20 years passé," says Shona Ramaya, an Indian author whose fourth book, "Operation Monsoon," came out last year. Ramaya, who grew up in Kolkata and now calls Massachusetts her home, does not see herself as an immigrant with a confused identity. She does not wonder who she is and where she belongs. "I'm confident where I am now," she says. "I'm confident when I go back home. I don't feel a culture clash." It is what Ramaya writes about, about communicating in and through virtual worlds, drawing on her life in a globalizing India. "Operation Monsoon" received an honorable mention at the 2004 Massachusetts book awards.
But it is not a view Eric Simonoff of the prestigious Janklow & Nesbit Associates in New York agrees with completely. His list of impressive clients includes Jhumpa Lahiri, Vikram Chandra, and Samina Ali, among others. He concedes that the initial euphoria over Indian literature has reduced but argues that it is not passé.
"America was introduced to Indian literature late in the game," he says. "England was drawn first to Indian literature. It's true the first phase was a completely new experience for Americans. It was exotic locales and the readers were learning about India, a place they didn't know. Seven years later, it is not as fresh. There is no novelty, readers are demanding more."
Suketu Mehta, author of "Bombay: The Maximum City," agrees. "Arranged marriages, mango orchards, nonresident Indians' longing and experiences back home are clichéd," he says, adding, "but the best of the writers overcome the shortcomings and still produce a great piece of work." This is something Mehta is familiar with. His own book is a brilliant, illuminating portrait of Mumbai and its people. "Bombay: Maximum City" has already gone into its third print in the first two months and has been named as one of the best non-fiction books of 2004.
Ask Mehta what the most revealing part of his recently concluded book tour was and he talks about the positive responses from some of the smaller towns in the U.S. "I heard from small towns in Alabama to Texas, from California to Washington. There is still a hunger to know more about India among Americans," he says.
But is Indian literature no longer in fashion? Simonoff points out that in the '90s, publishing houses sent notes that memoirs were dead. Similarly, before "Sea Biscuit," nobody wanted to hear a story about horse racing. But after a good book, publishers over-purchased in the genre.
Unfortunately, most of them underperformed. "American publishing is difficult to break into. If we sell 20,000 books, we call it a happy success," Simonoff explains, adding that a similar phenomenon happened with Indian literature. After "The God of Small Things" and "Interpreter of Maladies," publishing houses sought many Indian authors and not all did well. "Publishing houses were not looking for Indian authors," says Simonoff, "what they were looking for was another Arundhati Roy and Jhumpa Lahiri."
Soon those big contracts and the publicity blitz for new books dried down to a trickle. Mehta concurs, though he adds, "It is true that Indian authors are not getting paid as much as before to write. The books are being put in the market without much publicity. But that hasn't dampened the market. Look at any publishing catalogue, and every month you see new South Asian authors in them."
Did this 'exotica' wave put pressure on writers to weave their stories on 'Indian' themes? Ramaya believes that the readers and publishers put the writer under pressure.
"The publishing world, and the audience with expectations already created, are making it hard for writers who are writing different things to move beyond those expectations of Indian/South Asian writers," she says. "It is almost as if we are not 'authentic' if we do not write about pain, poverty, purity, and cultural clashes."
Amardeep Singh, assistant professor at Lehigh University in Pennsylvania, agrees. "Quite a number of recent Indian novels released in the U.S. have had references to curry, mangoes, masala, and saris in their titles," he says. And he is not too far from the truth. "Mistress of Spices," "Serving Crazy with Curry," "The Mango Season," "House of Blue Mangoes," and "The Snake Charmer" are just some of the titles that reflect that trend. "Probably my favorite from amongst the recent crop is Jhumpa Lahiri's 'The Namesake.' Her style is sober and clear, not lyrical or pretty," he adds.
Regina Ticco, a producer at a PBS station in Buffalo, New York, discovered Indian writing as part of her book club. However, her first experience didn't draw her immediately into the genre.
"The first I read, or tried to read, was 'The God of Small Things.' I couldn't read after a few pages. It was almost reading about the underbelly of the society. It wasn't appealing," she explains. Ticco didn't pick up another Indian book until about a year ago when she read "The Twentieth Wife" by Indu Sundaresan.
The story revolves around Mehrunissa (who later became Queen Noor Jehan) overcoming the opposition of her family, an ill-starred early marriage and scheming wives to marry the Crown Prince Salim. And then she read 'The Namesake' by Jhumpa Lahiri. "It was a wonderfully written book," Ticco recalls. "There are a few people of different nationalities in my group and they identified with the immigrant experiences in the book."
Simonoff, Lahiri's literary agent, who has attended some reading sessions of "The Namesake," reinforces the point. "During the reading, people from different immigrant groups would stand up and say that they identified with the characters. This is a fundamental point in good writing," he adds. With the market cautious about Indian writing, is there a danger of Indian writing being put under the microscope before being awarded a contract? Simonoff rejects that possibility. "I don't think there is anything happening like that. It is a level playing field for all the writers."
So what are the literary agents looking for in a new book? "With Indian writing, but could be 'Canadian' writing or 'American' writing, I look for voice first and foremost, a stridency that engages you straight away, I look for a sense of comedy, and of course, a storyline, and good characters," elaborates Doubleday editor Lawson, who discovered Monica Ali, whose "Brick Lane" was one of the books nominated for the 2004 Booker Prize.
Simonoff reiterates this point. "From the point of view of an American literary agent in New York City, it is more about individuals rather than people of a specific country or region. But I also believe that Indian writers have been embraced by American readers."
With publishing houses looking for the next 'new' thing, where is Indian writing headed? Singh says that Indian writers adapt themselves to the situation and tackle issues not dealt with previously, and in novel ways.
"As long as desi writers have stories to tell and ideas to try out, Indian writing will not be passé," says Singh. "If one set of issues (say, the culture clash issue) is exhausted, we may see a shift in styles as people start writing about things other people either haven't thought of or won't dare to touch."
A point that Mehta, who wants to
write a novel in the near future, also supports. "I think we are good
storytellers with a lot of stories to tell," he concludes.