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3.95 AVERAGE
3.95 AVERAGE
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
loved this sooo much. the afterword really tied everything together and this book was literally perfect. the characters, their personalities, everything was so real and fleshed out. i loved aliya, and as the story progressed i could feel her aging and maturing. i need to do a proper review of this.
and the translation was excellent
and the translation was excellent
As published in LitGleam: October Issue
Mastur’s ‘The Women’s Courtyard’ brings to focus, the ‘aangan’ of a house, and the epicenter to most household chores, discussions, and storytelling. It is a place that is primarily governed by the women of the house. Set in the 1940s, ‘The Women’s Courtyard’ is the tale of a Muslim family that is equally influenced by pre-partition events and ingrained patriarchy.
After a brief ‘Past’ where Aliya’s life turns upside down due to the loss of her sister and her father being sent to jail, Aliya and her mother move into her uncle’s house. Thus, Aliya finds herself coming to age in a strange household where political aspirations are rupturing a perfectly healthy household.
Aliya has been hardened by her past experiences and is detached from what’s happening in this house, neglected most of the time. She cries tears of rage in the solitude of her room, accusing people of the choices they make, she despises love and is a strong advocate of how love can only bring destruction, never happiness. Disgusted by Jameel’s advances and declaration of love especially after losing her sister Tehmina and her friend Kusum to suicide in the hands of their lovers, Aliya maintains a safe distance, never entertaining or acknowledging any of it.
Aliya admires (almost blindly) her father and her uncle because of their strong political opinions, but criticizes them when there is an imbalance in the household. Her knowledge of the ongoing fight for independence and the difference in ideologies between Congress and The Muslim League comes from the debates brought into the courtyard by the men. Her life is confined to this courtyard, detached from the outside world and its influence.
“How strangely he was asserting his authority over the household today, and just because his political beliefs were being mocked.”
Aliya’s mother- cynical and cruel, can be very opinionated at times. She openly condemns her mother-in-law’s inability to poison her own daughter because of her marriage to a poor farmer. She shows immense strength in the face of crisis, the absence of a male member in the family in this case, but also repels happiness by always finding a grim thought to latch on to.
Similarly, each woman in this house has their fair share of loss and disappointment. They can be seen expressing their opinions either through loud tones and rebellious actions or by muttering to themselves how their small and humble world is now falling apart. Aliya, on the other hand, defies the social norms and finishes her education without falling into the trap of forced marriage or everyday chores.
The Women’s Courtyard focuses on the life of the women of the house, who are not allowed to have political aspirations (or opinions, for that matter) and are constantly tormented by the fact that the men would rather give their lives up for the country than take care of their own house. The only way partition enters this courtyard is through the men. They are the harbingers of news, good and bad alike. As the country fights for freedom, the women struggle to hold the house together and provide to its inhabitants, the very basic needs in life.
Mastur’s prose lacks sentimentality and is neither flowery nor ornate. The narration can be considered merely as an observation of sorts. While the women are constantly tormented, their love for their male counterparts and their sons is immense and that is what holds this family together.
The courtyard can be considered as a stage, the characters being puppets of the patriarchy. Not even once does the narrative venture out of this courtyard. The story brings us out of the political turmoil that we all enjoy reading (stories of bloodshed and fights rarely enter this courtyard) and dunks us into the lives of the women, always home, worried and scared out of their wits (especially during riots and rallies). While the story talks about political ideologies, the narrator doesn’t want to impose them on us or ask us to form an opinion and pick a side. Instead, we are told about the systematic violence that exists within the four walls of a house, a lack of freedom in the name of tradition and customs.
The story cannot be considered a feminist story as such because the women are confined to a geographical location, going about their assigned tasks and subjected to the unkindness of the patriarchy at all times. Aliya voices her opinions but never in a way that will cause a shift in power within the house. Her monologues are spoken best during the late hours or in moments of isolation.
Daisy Rockwell’s translation is the second version of the book that was initially translated as ‘The Inner Courtyard’. Rockwell’s translation from Urdu can be described as crisp, preserving the true essence of the original text. A look at the afterword is essential to understand where she stands with the book and what influenced her to translate this book into English.
‘The Women’s Courtyard’ renders an independent voice to the women stuck in domesticity, repressed by unjustified patriarchy and forced to live a life without purpose or opinions.
Mastur’s ‘The Women’s Courtyard’ brings to focus, the ‘aangan’ of a house, and the epicenter to most household chores, discussions, and storytelling. It is a place that is primarily governed by the women of the house. Set in the 1940s, ‘The Women’s Courtyard’ is the tale of a Muslim family that is equally influenced by pre-partition events and ingrained patriarchy.
After a brief ‘Past’ where Aliya’s life turns upside down due to the loss of her sister and her father being sent to jail, Aliya and her mother move into her uncle’s house. Thus, Aliya finds herself coming to age in a strange household where political aspirations are rupturing a perfectly healthy household.
Aliya has been hardened by her past experiences and is detached from what’s happening in this house, neglected most of the time. She cries tears of rage in the solitude of her room, accusing people of the choices they make, she despises love and is a strong advocate of how love can only bring destruction, never happiness. Disgusted by Jameel’s advances and declaration of love especially after losing her sister Tehmina and her friend Kusum to suicide in the hands of their lovers, Aliya maintains a safe distance, never entertaining or acknowledging any of it.
Aliya admires (almost blindly) her father and her uncle because of their strong political opinions, but criticizes them when there is an imbalance in the household. Her knowledge of the ongoing fight for independence and the difference in ideologies between Congress and The Muslim League comes from the debates brought into the courtyard by the men. Her life is confined to this courtyard, detached from the outside world and its influence.
“How strangely he was asserting his authority over the household today, and just because his political beliefs were being mocked.”
Aliya’s mother- cynical and cruel, can be very opinionated at times. She openly condemns her mother-in-law’s inability to poison her own daughter because of her marriage to a poor farmer. She shows immense strength in the face of crisis, the absence of a male member in the family in this case, but also repels happiness by always finding a grim thought to latch on to.
Similarly, each woman in this house has their fair share of loss and disappointment. They can be seen expressing their opinions either through loud tones and rebellious actions or by muttering to themselves how their small and humble world is now falling apart. Aliya, on the other hand, defies the social norms and finishes her education without falling into the trap of forced marriage or everyday chores.
The Women’s Courtyard focuses on the life of the women of the house, who are not allowed to have political aspirations (or opinions, for that matter) and are constantly tormented by the fact that the men would rather give their lives up for the country than take care of their own house. The only way partition enters this courtyard is through the men. They are the harbingers of news, good and bad alike. As the country fights for freedom, the women struggle to hold the house together and provide to its inhabitants, the very basic needs in life.
Mastur’s prose lacks sentimentality and is neither flowery nor ornate. The narration can be considered merely as an observation of sorts. While the women are constantly tormented, their love for their male counterparts and their sons is immense and that is what holds this family together.
The courtyard can be considered as a stage, the characters being puppets of the patriarchy. Not even once does the narrative venture out of this courtyard. The story brings us out of the political turmoil that we all enjoy reading (stories of bloodshed and fights rarely enter this courtyard) and dunks us into the lives of the women, always home, worried and scared out of their wits (especially during riots and rallies). While the story talks about political ideologies, the narrator doesn’t want to impose them on us or ask us to form an opinion and pick a side. Instead, we are told about the systematic violence that exists within the four walls of a house, a lack of freedom in the name of tradition and customs.
The story cannot be considered a feminist story as such because the women are confined to a geographical location, going about their assigned tasks and subjected to the unkindness of the patriarchy at all times. Aliya voices her opinions but never in a way that will cause a shift in power within the house. Her monologues are spoken best during the late hours or in moments of isolation.
Daisy Rockwell’s translation is the second version of the book that was initially translated as ‘The Inner Courtyard’. Rockwell’s translation from Urdu can be described as crisp, preserving the true essence of the original text. A look at the afterword is essential to understand where she stands with the book and what influenced her to translate this book into English.
‘The Women’s Courtyard’ renders an independent voice to the women stuck in domesticity, repressed by unjustified patriarchy and forced to live a life without purpose or opinions.
challenging
emotional
informative
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
Originally published in 1962, Khadija takes us into the cloistered world of a family on a downward trajectory in The Women’s Courtyard. Aliya’s family was once very wealthy. Now, they cling on to the little that’s left to them. Aliya’s mother longs for the days of privilege and schemes to get a little bit of it back. Aliya’s father and uncle hope for independence from Britain. Her cousins have little hope for anything at all. In the middle of everything, Aliya slowly learns how some choices can trap you, while others can free you. This novel is beautifully translated by Daisy Rockwell...
Read the rest of my review at A Bookish Type. I received a free copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley, for review consideration.
Read the rest of my review at A Bookish Type. I received a free copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley, for review consideration.
There are books, that in an effort to pass on their message, will make it the only purpose of the book. It shows in their writing, how in every line there are sentences or philosophies to uncover and puzzle through. Yet there are some books that do not press on their messages in a way that feels so forced so open, there's a subtle of weaving of all the things and nuances it wishes to display in perhaps the most simplest of terms. This was one such book. I started it with ease, the prose was no trouble at all, the premise did not feel heavy to gaurd against, all in all I thought I was in for a another generic feminist read. I am glad to say the book didn't land my expectations. Through its simple writing, it told of us a story that felt so real that I could see it to happening to women all around the world even now. The book dealt with themes of patriarchal systems, beliefs and the act of trying to break oneself free from it. It was refreshing to see the silent side of patriarchy and oppression in it. The way it silently wounds up in a women's thoughts and actions. Overall I loves its resprentation of how a patriarchal society affects women inetllectualy,physically and emotionally.
took me FOREVER to finish but glad I did. the afterword really did me in.
Aliya reminded me so much of jo march. mastoor's is an earnest portrayal of a south asian woman breaking the cycle, that really has an effect on its reader. even if one were to consider it as a partition novel, the novel has a lot to say about partition that goes beyond the violence and nostalgia that we often see written about it in literature.
on the whole this was a really great read. a sad girl book that for fkin once, is not set in New York
Aliya reminded me so much of jo march. mastoor's is an earnest portrayal of a south asian woman breaking the cycle, that really has an effect on its reader. even if one were to consider it as a partition novel, the novel has a lot to say about partition that goes beyond the violence and nostalgia that we often see written about it in literature.
on the whole this was a really great read. a sad girl book that for fkin once, is not set in New York
Originally written in Urdu, Aangan(The Women's Courtyard) is a story set in the Partition era, on the other side of the border.
Told from the perspective of Aliya, Aangan explores the life of women in their most inhabited space of a home, the courtyard. Under very difficult circumstances, Aliya is forced to leave her home she grew up in and move to her uncle's house. In this new space Aliya fights to be independent through education, against the wishes of her rigid mother, and survive the changes that Partition ushers in.
Through Aangan, Khadija Mastur presents the struggles of women during the partition period. These women did not actively participate in the political movement, yet they end up suffering the most due to the actions of the men of the household. While for some women the aangan is a native space of power and rest, for others it's claustrophobic in nature. While sometimes it's a space to celebrate a wedding, it's also a space to mourn the dead.
Aangan showcases the different shades of women who color the inner walls with their presence and opinions. This novel is a vital piece of Feminist literature that explores the multifold of struggle that women endure within their household.
Daisy Rockwell's translation has successfully preserved the poetic and poignant nature of this novel. Also, her Afterword throws more light on the characters and themes of this novel, which is a treat you mustn't miss.
Told from the perspective of Aliya, Aangan explores the life of women in their most inhabited space of a home, the courtyard. Under very difficult circumstances, Aliya is forced to leave her home she grew up in and move to her uncle's house. In this new space Aliya fights to be independent through education, against the wishes of her rigid mother, and survive the changes that Partition ushers in.
Through Aangan, Khadija Mastur presents the struggles of women during the partition period. These women did not actively participate in the political movement, yet they end up suffering the most due to the actions of the men of the household. While for some women the aangan is a native space of power and rest, for others it's claustrophobic in nature. While sometimes it's a space to celebrate a wedding, it's also a space to mourn the dead.
Aangan showcases the different shades of women who color the inner walls with their presence and opinions. This novel is a vital piece of Feminist literature that explores the multifold of struggle that women endure within their household.
Daisy Rockwell's translation has successfully preserved the poetic and poignant nature of this novel. Also, her Afterword throws more light on the characters and themes of this novel, which is a treat you mustn't miss.
First of all, I'm so thankful to have translations like this available! I speak Urdu pretty fluently, but I have little to no reading capacity, and it makes connecting with Pakistani literature very difficult at times despite my immense desire to do so.
As for the novel itself, my thoughts can be more or less summarized into what Rockwell wrote in her Afterword. The prowess of Mastur's depictions of people and their social circumstances with regards to the impending Partition lies in the fact that she acknowledges they are never quite as clear cut as we would perhaps like them to be. It's not that women are inherently narrow-minded, misogynist, and cruel; or that men are inherently ignorant, self-important, and neglectful. These are certainly realities of the time, but they aren't the only ones. The women in Aliya's family are the way they are due to years of tradition and gendered class-structure, as are the men. It does not make Aliya's mother any less self-serving or cruel to acknowledge that Aliya's father values her opinion little and does not give much thought to the consequences on his family of his life being compromised. It does not detract from the fact that Aliya loves her father and uncle deeply that she can simultaneously acknowledge their neglect of their families in the pursuit of independence. It does not make Kareeman Bua's existence as a perpetual slave to the family any less pitiful that she lords over the invalid Asrar Miyan because of the alleged household status endowed to her by the family as someone legitimate, even if she ultimately remains in the position of servant. And so on and so forth. Mastur deals in the business of portraying people: their hypocrisies, their victimhood, their sorrows. Every character in this novel, even the worst of the bunch, is ultimately a victim to the perpetual cycle of patriarchy.
This is precisely what makes the conclusion to the novel, while on its face heartbreaking, so completely empowering for Aliya. Although Jameel may very well love her, and she may love him, Aliya's freedom from the chains that have enslaved her aunts and mother to the subservience of and neglect by man cannot convince her to go through with returning Jameel's affections. Similarly, at the end of the novel, for a brief moment, Aliya considers marrying a returned Safdar. Despite her anger at him for essentially leaving Tehmina to fend for herself in the name of love, and subsequently allowing her to commit suicide in the process, Aliya almost opens her heart to Safdar under the belief that he has remained true to those exact ideals of love. That he, too, has allowed himself to suffer for it and remain lonely thereafter the way Tehmina did, if not in life, but in death. If not necessarily penance for his part to play in Tehmina's death, it is at least a sign of his steadfastness and commitment to love outside the boundaries of how society would have it play out. Unfortunately, only a minute after Aliya makes the proposal to marry him, Safdar reveals he's abandoned his old romanticism and intends to set his sights on money and the world. His old love for Tehmina is unintentionally classified by himself as the frivolous thing Aliya always believed it to be, and she immediately rescinds the proposal. The love of no man in her life exists outside the chains of ownership, entitlement, and abandonment, regardless of however much she might temporarily sympathize with him.
It's this sharp compassion that makes Aliya such a consistent, steadfast, self-aware character. As the observer to everyone's hypocrisies and shortcomings, she's able to shape a version of herself that she can hold herself accountable to in a way no other character has. Although Aliya is committed to progress and social work the way her uncle and father are, she also has regard for her mother and cares for her to the end of the novel, rather than abandoning her for her "backwards" ideals the way the men in her family would have. Furthermore, Aliya's care for her mother does not automatically translate into an alignment with those ideals, which she pushes back against. Aliya, in essence, refuses to become either the men or women she has been so oppressively witness to her entire life, and she charts her own path forward. This is the irony of the Partition for women like her; despite all of the grief, violence, and near-permanent loss, it's an escape for Aliya for norms she would otherwise have found herself categorized under and subjected to. By refusing to bend to either way of life entirely, she's a fully-realized character, and her conclusion, while momentarily grim, sparks more hope for her future than any other character in the novel could possibly hope to have.
FINAL RATING: 4.75
As for the novel itself, my thoughts can be more or less summarized into what Rockwell wrote in her Afterword. The prowess of Mastur's depictions of people and their social circumstances with regards to the impending Partition lies in the fact that she acknowledges they are never quite as clear cut as we would perhaps like them to be. It's not that women are inherently narrow-minded, misogynist, and cruel; or that men are inherently ignorant, self-important, and neglectful. These are certainly realities of the time, but they aren't the only ones. The women in Aliya's family are the way they are due to years of tradition and gendered class-structure, as are the men. It does not make Aliya's mother any less self-serving or cruel to acknowledge that Aliya's father values her opinion little and does not give much thought to the consequences on his family of his life being compromised. It does not detract from the fact that Aliya loves her father and uncle deeply that she can simultaneously acknowledge their neglect of their families in the pursuit of independence. It does not make Kareeman Bua's existence as a perpetual slave to the family any less pitiful that she lords over the invalid Asrar Miyan because of the alleged household status endowed to her by the family as someone legitimate, even if she ultimately remains in the position of servant. And so on and so forth. Mastur deals in the business of portraying people: their hypocrisies, their victimhood, their sorrows. Every character in this novel, even the worst of the bunch, is ultimately a victim to the perpetual cycle of patriarchy.
This is precisely what makes the conclusion to the novel, while on its face heartbreaking, so completely empowering for Aliya. Although Jameel may very well love her, and she may love him, Aliya's freedom from the chains that have enslaved her aunts and mother to the subservience of and neglect by man cannot convince her to go through with returning Jameel's affections. Similarly, at the end of the novel, for a brief moment, Aliya considers marrying a returned Safdar. Despite her anger at him for essentially leaving Tehmina to fend for herself in the name of love, and subsequently allowing her to commit suicide in the process, Aliya almost opens her heart to Safdar under the belief that he has remained true to those exact ideals of love. That he, too, has allowed himself to suffer for it and remain lonely thereafter the way Tehmina did, if not in life, but in death. If not necessarily penance for his part to play in Tehmina's death, it is at least a sign of his steadfastness and commitment to love outside the boundaries of how society would have it play out. Unfortunately, only a minute after Aliya makes the proposal to marry him, Safdar reveals he's abandoned his old romanticism and intends to set his sights on money and the world. His old love for Tehmina is unintentionally classified by himself as the frivolous thing Aliya always believed it to be, and she immediately rescinds the proposal. The love of no man in her life exists outside the chains of ownership, entitlement, and abandonment, regardless of however much she might temporarily sympathize with him.
It's this sharp compassion that makes Aliya such a consistent, steadfast, self-aware character. As the observer to everyone's hypocrisies and shortcomings, she's able to shape a version of herself that she can hold herself accountable to in a way no other character has. Although Aliya is committed to progress and social work the way her uncle and father are, she also has regard for her mother and cares for her to the end of the novel, rather than abandoning her for her "backwards" ideals the way the men in her family would have. Furthermore, Aliya's care for her mother does not automatically translate into an alignment with those ideals, which she pushes back against. Aliya, in essence, refuses to become either the men or women she has been so oppressively witness to her entire life, and she charts her own path forward. This is the irony of the Partition for women like her; despite all of the grief, violence, and near-permanent loss, it's an escape for Aliya for norms she would otherwise have found herself categorized under and subjected to. By refusing to bend to either way of life entirely, she's a fully-realized character, and her conclusion, while momentarily grim, sparks more hope for her future than any other character in the novel could possibly hope to have.
FINAL RATING: 4.75
emotional
reflective
inter generational family + war time
emotional
sad
fast-paced
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
informative
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes