‘Twentieth Wife’ opens the door on palace life
Thu Mar 14, 6:11 AM ET
Carmela Ciuraru USA TODAY
Like Anchee Min’s splendid historical novel Becoming Madame Mao, Indu Sundaresan’s fictional debut focuses on a strong woman who challenged the rigid conventions of her time, someone whose rise to power was fraught with drama and controversy.
In the early 17th century, a young Persian woman named Mehrunnisa (meaning ‘‘Sun of Women’’) became the 20th wife of the Emperor Jahangir, and together they ruled the Mughal Empire before its eventual decline.
Although historians have chronicled the lives of the Mughal emperors, Sundaresan mentions in her afterword that historical texts have largely ignored the wives of those men – a gap her novel seeks to correct.
In Mehrunnisa, Sundaresan has found a fascinating subject. During a time when women did not speak unless spoken to and were expected to be wholly submissive to their husbands, Mehrunnisa reveled in her power as empress of Mughal India. She minted coins in her own name, served as an arts patron and commissioned imperial gardens and tombs that still exist 300 years later. Although the author states that historical accounts of Mehrunnisa are conflicting, she portrays her as an ambitious but sympathetic figure.
Mehrunnisa is calculating even as a child; by the age of 8, she tells everyone around her that she intends to marry Prince Salim (who is called Jahangir upon his assent to the throne). The fact that she lacks royal lineage doesn’t seem to discourage Mehrunnisa; her father is a courtier of the Emperor Akbar, which gives her access to the palace. The precocious girl finds a tough but loving mentor in the emperor’s domineering wife, Ruqayya, who teaches her how to live on her own terms.
It isn’t until she’s 34 that Mehrunnisa’s dream of marrying Salim is realized. Before that, she must suffer through an unhappy marriage, repeated miscarriages and, as a result of her willful nature, damage to her reputation.
Although The Twentieth Wife offers a rich and intimate view into palace life during the late 16th and early 17th centuries – and an incisive look at gender roles of that period – the novel falters in developing its characters.
Sundaresan packs her story with episodes of political strife, Mehrunnisa’s own family crises and dramas within the royal family.
Yet the characters are often stuck in soap-opera-like scenes, such as when Mehrunnisa finally receives a marriage proposal from her beloved: ‘‘In Jahangir’s eyes there was nothing but a deep, abiding love. He was not merely asking her to be his wife. He was giving her his life. . . . A raging consuming fire flowed through them, scorching out every other thought.’’
There’s no question that Sundaresan is a gifted storyteller with an obvious passion for history. However, The Twentieth Wife might have been more impressive if the author had chosen not to craft a commercial novel and had instead written a riskier, more surprising one.
The Twentieth Wife
By Indu Sundaresan
Pocket Books, 320 pp., $24