The Literature
section of the library of an engineering college tends to go unvisited by
generations (read batches) of students. It is in one such ignored, dust laden
shelf that I found a copy of Salman Rushdie’s The Enchantress of Florence. The
last Rushdie work that I had read was Shalimar the Clown, back in 2011. So I
was eager to delve into this book that promised enchantment.
The story revolves
around an enigmatic ancestor of Emperor Akbar, how and why she got lost in the
ages of history and the long awaited reclamation. Akbar’s court is described
with all the grandeur that historians attribute to that most glorious period of
Indian history. The musings of the emperor himself cast a regal penumbra about
the character. There are several advantages of using a historical figure as a
character in a story For one, the character is already well drawn out.
Popularity of the character among readers builds on the familiarity to develop
story that is warmly welcomed. Of course, there are disadvantages too. One must
be careful not to temper with the attributes too much, lest the essence of the
character is lost.
The characters
were represented beautifully. Jodha Bai’s tale is second to none but The Enchantress
herself. The parallels drawn between Florence and Fatehpur Sikri and their
respective inhabitants, make the two cities twins in many respects. The traveller
from Florence who claims to be a distant relative of the Emperor carries with
himself the tale of the forgotten princess. The strange, mystical traveller is
a multi-talented weaver of magic who quickly becomes one of the emperors
favourites, one that even the Precious Nine begin to detest. One of the central
themes of the book is magic, enchantments that work across the tides of time.
The author reinforces the power of “words” in the following quote:
“.....witchcraft
requires no potions, familiar spirits or magic wands. Language upon a silvered
tongue affords enchantment enough.”
Towards the end of
the book, the cold knife of reason slices away much of the magic from the
climax. As an emperor, Akbar must decide the best, most reasonable way to
explain away the claims of the traveller. Although in his heart of hearts he
wanted to believe the traveller, he has a greater responsibility to uphold
towards his kingdom, people and heritage.
The book gave me a
little bit of magic to disappear into during the first, most difficult week of
my move to Durgapur. It was a welcoming gesture from the library that now
provides me with delights every time I visit its rich collection.
