The Henna Artist
In Alka Joshi’s debut novel, The Henna Artist (2020), Lakshmi Shastri, the henna artist premier in 1950s Jaipur, recounts her story. As the novel opens, all Lakshmi’s toils seem about to pay off with purchase of her own home, with a flushable toilet and an elaborately mosaiced floor. Suddenly a thirteen-year-old sister (Radha) Lakshmi did not know exists arrives and her world forever shifts. Through the ups and downs of the family and social dramas that ensue, circumstances ultimately force Lakshmi to reevaluate all the dreams she had fostered in her many years of living independent of father or husband. In addition to being historical fiction set in post-independence India, this is also a story about family, love, independence, and living one’s true calling.
From the Rajasthani desert of Jaipur to the Himalayan mountain town of Shimla, Joshi’s novel transports its reader to India in the years following Independence. The Henna Artist includes a vibrant cast of characters who come from India’s many castes and social statuses: from the Rajasthani Muslims who chose to stay following partition to the royal family of the Jaipur Maharaja. Many years prior to the novel’s drama, Lakshmi chose to break from the traditional life her parents and culture assigned her. Over the years she has mastered a craft, as henna artist, through which she moves between all the castes and among members of outrageously diverse society; the Red Light districts, the wealthiest Jaipur matrons, even rural mountain villagers are comfortable in her company. Lakshmi’s story depicts the complicated social rhythm of such a traditionally structured society; it also hones in on its points of fracture. Joshi’s novel succeeds are revealing the deep-seated traditions that dictate appropriate, polite society in mid-twentieth-century India. These social expectations and caste-based assignments lead to stability for some but are stiflingly limited, and have their moments of breakdown. For example, on her first visit to the palace, Lakshmi recognizes that “[T]he dowager maharani seemed to have found a sanctuary within her narrow confines. The poor weren’t the only one imprisoned by their caste” (154-155). The Henna Artist at once acknowledges the comfort, even safety, and consistency that often derive from the tradition social structures and exposes the restrictive nature of the caste system for both the poor and the rich.
What’s more, Joshi’s novel displays the strict gender roles of traditional Indian society within all castes. Lakshmi and Radha’s stories reveal the tragic cost of being an attractive woman beyond the confines of one’s family unit as well as the abuse women often suffer at the hands of their spouse. There are themes in The Henna Artist that are hard to grapple: domestic abuse, prostitution, alcoholism, arranged marriage, teenage pregnancy, extra-marital affairs, miscarriage, and depression. Yet as Lakshmi struggles to realize her dreams in society not designed for independent women, she finds herself returning to what matters most. While Joshi’s novel investigates the dark underbelly of polite and structured 1950s Indian society, it concludes in hopefulness as Lakshmi and Radha make their own way towards their individual aspirations and gifts.
The Henna Artist exudes with Hindi words, food and culture that likely mean nothing to non-Indian readers. Joshi guides her western readers through the many Hindi terms she sprinkles throughout this novel with a Glossary of Terms at the novel’s close. Likewise, she outlines the many characters before the novel begins. Following the novel’s conclusion, in addition to the glossary, Joshi includes sections that relate to henna, the caste system, and various recipes referenced in the novel. In other words, Joshi gives her reader not only the opportunity to transport herself to 1950s India through Lakshmi’s self-told tale, she also gives her means to satisfy her intellectual and culinary curiosity as the novel progresses. I can certainly see why The Henna Artist is one of Reese’s Book Club books this spring. As a twenty-first century, American reader, I found Johsi’s novel acted as a cultural bridge. The Henna Artist both an engaging, transportive novel and a means of cultural education.
A Few Great Passages:
“I wanted more, always, for what my hands could accomplish, what my wits could achieve—more than my parents had thought possible” (51).
“In a country where a woman’s gold was her security against the unforeseen, Maa’s naked earlobes and bare wrists were a constant reminder that my father had put politics before his family” (83).
“But I’d seen what Radha hadn’t: desperate women begging my saas [mother-in-law] to rid them of their burdens. Where she saw joy, I saw hardship. Where she saw love, I saw responsibility, obligation. Could they be two sides of the same coin? Hadn’t I experience both love and duty, delight and exasperation, since she entered my life?” (301).
Bibliography:
Joshi, Alka. The Henna Artist. Mira: Toronto, 2020.
