Review: Shalimar the Clown

“I am being rowed through paradise in a river of hell”- these are the words of Agha Shahid Ali whose words Rushdie purposefully mentions before the story begins. 

India- the love child of an American ambassador and a runaway Kashmiri pandit. Such idiosyncratic characterizations could only be imagined by Rushdie. 

The book is a nonlinear story which is written in five parts- 

The first part is fairly slow paced and I would understand why, if someone who began reading the book told me they gave up on it halfway through the first part. It describes what most non-Americans assume to be the life of every white American. An episode straight out of a Hollywood film set in the middle of LA with proposals, Ukrainian and Filipino refugee neighbors, sleep disorders and a father-daughter lunch date. All this only until adversity strikes. An assassination of a father and the daughter’s sudden change of reality. 

The second part walks us through the fictional but very Kashmiri and beautiful village of Pachigam. It’s a story of myths and love, military and religion, captivity and freedom. Pachigam is a village of artists and cooks and has its own little sweet rivalry with the neighboring village of Shirmal. I happened to read this book with the intention of learning about Kashmir and this section of the book perfectly captured what I was looking for with its magnificent prose and delightful descriptions. I wished to be a part of this Kashmir, dance with the Bhand Pather artists and devour the 60 course Wazwan meal. 

This section proves how Rushdie truly believes in the fortitude of women and power of art. It could have been a standalone novella.

The third section is the story of our ambassador, the victim of an assassination, one of the early makers of America. His story jumps and glides through wars, Europe, and aero planes. Unlike its predecessor, this section is quite a contrast with a major part of it being the wartime story. Yet we notice the similarity of both the stories when the protagonist of this section visits India. He wonders “Could any two places have been more different and yet the same? Human nature, the great constant surely persisted in spite of the surface difference”. 

The fourth section is a revenge story. With the horror of Kashmir in its backdrop it evidently makes the reader realize the madness of religion and politics. The section slowly walks us through the changes that take place in Kashmir over the years through the eyes of an artist, a militant, a terrorist, a husband, a wife, and the land. It shows us the slaughter of not just men and women but also traditions and ideologies. The cruelty of mankind and its ruthlessness is ever startling to me and writings like this rightly surface those deranged feelings of sadness and rage. 

The fifth section is the story of what happens when India turns into Kashmira after her reality is shaken by her father’s death. This final section is a mixture of a little bit of everything. We have a tale of discovery of identity, a little bit of a love story, a courtroom drama, a tale of prison adventure, and finally a prison break. 

The book is filled with subtle humor and fun facts. The evident difference in the stories of Maximilian Ophuls and Boonyi Kaul proves how Rushdie can write about almost everything. Shalimar the clown ends with a peculiar note. We are not given any hint about what happens next. I am a pessimist and hence I have my ending in my mind. Perhaps Rushdie meant for the opposite.