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A review by lizshayne
The Henna Artist by Alka Joshi
emotional
hopeful
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
4.0
I can never tell if my ongoing abiding interest in books set in South and East Asia is some kind of weird cultural tourism thing or about a deep and abiding interest in a culture that has so many touchstones in common with my religion...mutatis mutandis.
I think a bit of both. It's extremely clear that this is a...fantasy India more interested in world building than a real evocation of a space.
As someone who almost uniformly hates books with characters of my background because of a combination of the narcissism of small differences and the awareness that authors are rarely writing for insiders, I imagine Indian readers will feel the same way about this book. (Checks reviews. Yep!)
Which is a position I have a lot of sympathy for. It's useful to know whether a book is written addressed to insiders or outsiders, whether the story is created to build a beautiful fantasy or investigate reality.
(There's an element of bias in here, naturally, as to who gets realism and who gets romanticized, although I would say the real difference is who gets to write the romance of the place as an insider and who has to write it for the outsider's gaze. And this is complicated when literature becomes a means for diasporic children to research and write their way back into the homeland and home legends. I think it's really important to recognize that this book is *fantasy* and has to be read as such. (Cue Delaney's comment that all fiction is fantasy, some of it is just AU with minimal changes.) The fantasy of the diasporic child finding a homeland that never was, but that can be found in fiction is often beautiful to read, but bears little if any relationship to reality. And that's fine. That's a matter of managing expectations. And also for Western readers to stop assuming that historical fiction is an accurate portrayal of a place.)
Also the food. Wow, this book made me hungry.
Reading this in the middle (God forbid it be just the beginning) of what's going on in Texas was...an experience. The reminder that, for more of history, women could and did end pregnancies that would have put them in some kind of danger was particularly stark. The contrast of all of these women—those who sought abortions, those who refused them, and those who desperately wanted to conceive was elegantly done and, honestly, emphasized the role that power and choice played in what constitutes the right thing.
I have such a soft spot for "woman stops being at the mercy of others and finds herself" stories. This was a really good one and the audio version was lovely. (The worst part of reading audiobooks is that it multiplies my "Oh, oh, NO, the character is going to do something THAT IS A MISTAKE" by like ten and the visceral embarrassment is a MOOD. So if that's a thing for you...maybe print or just put those 15 minutes on like 2x speed.)
I think a bit of both. It's extremely clear that this is a...fantasy India more interested in world building than a real evocation of a space.
As someone who almost uniformly hates books with characters of my background because of a combination of the narcissism of small differences and the awareness that authors are rarely writing for insiders, I imagine Indian readers will feel the same way about this book. (Checks reviews. Yep!)
Which is a position I have a lot of sympathy for. It's useful to know whether a book is written addressed to insiders or outsiders, whether the story is created to build a beautiful fantasy or investigate reality.
(There's an element of bias in here, naturally, as to who gets realism and who gets romanticized, although I would say the real difference is who gets to write the romance of the place as an insider and who has to write it for the outsider's gaze. And this is complicated when literature becomes a means for diasporic children to research and write their way back into the homeland and home legends. I think it's really important to recognize that this book is *fantasy* and has to be read as such. (Cue Delaney's comment that all fiction is fantasy, some of it is just AU with minimal changes.) The fantasy of the diasporic child finding a homeland that never was, but that can be found in fiction is often beautiful to read, but bears little if any relationship to reality. And that's fine. That's a matter of managing expectations. And also for Western readers to stop assuming that historical fiction is an accurate portrayal of a place.)
Also the food. Wow, this book made me hungry.
Reading this in the middle (God forbid it be just the beginning) of what's going on in Texas was...an experience. The reminder that, for more of history, women could and did end pregnancies that would have put them in some kind of danger was particularly stark. The contrast of all of these women—those who sought abortions, those who refused them, and those who desperately wanted to conceive was elegantly done and, honestly, emphasized the role that power and choice played in what constitutes the right thing.
I have such a soft spot for "woman stops being at the mercy of others and finds herself" stories. This was a really good one and the audio version was lovely. (The worst part of reading audiobooks is that it multiplies my "Oh, oh, NO, the character is going to do something THAT IS A MISTAKE" by like ten and the visceral embarrassment is a MOOD. So if that's a thing for you...maybe print or just put those 15 minutes on like 2x speed.)