The Miniaturist by Kunal Basu, The Opium Clerk by Kunal Basu
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Kunal Basu seems to be carving out something of a niche for himself by writing about aspects of history that have rarely if ever been featured in historical fiction. His first novel, The Opium Clerk, while nominally about the opium trade, also told the story of the British trading presence in China and Southeast Asia from the perspective of one of the Indian employees: it should be of particular interest out here, since Indians, after all, ended up creating strong and long-lasting communities in a number of East Asian cities.
In The Miniaturist, Basu rolls the clock back a further three centuries to the time of Mughal Emperor Akbar. This novel, like the first, deals with a substance that that results in heightened perception, although this time, that dangerous substance is art.
The Miniaturist is the story of Bihzad, a gifted artist in the court of the Mughal court. Bihzad (this is not the Bihzad of Central Asian fame, but a namesake from a generation or so later) was the son of the head Court painter, and showed a rare genius from an early age, talent which, combined with misdirected personal passions, leads him into trouble and exile.
There was apparently a real Bihzad, who disappears mysteriously from annals of the Indian court, and Basu builds his story on this historical thread.
I feel somewhat tied in this review by my not wishing to divulge the details of the plot. Suffice it to say that Bihzad’s peregrinations take him from one end of his world to the other, geographically, artistically, socially and spiritually.
Artistic inspiration
Old masters and the artists themselves have provided a rich vein of inspiration for historical novels in recent years; perhaps it is because artists were more modern in their thinking than the bulk of their contemporaries—or at least with hindsight seem to be, making their art a bridge between times and cultures.
It is suitable, and probably inevitable, that Eastern art and artists from the same period would also inspire writers. The Miniaturist treads much the same artistic ground as Orhan Pamuk’s My Name is Red, that of “Persian miniatures”, and both books take place at roughly the same time, the latter part of 16th century, at the height of Islamic political power and, arguably, influence of their art as a global style.
Both books can be read for what they at first appear to be: well-crafted stories which bring to life exotic times and places, which “illuminate” (in both senses of the word) through intricate detail this Persian-Islamic culture which was, for centuries, arguably the most “civilized” in the world.
But even when not overtly political, any such book—especially at this time—inevitably invites comparison between East and West. Pamuk did so explicitly: while his book is also a murder mystery, My Name is Red book is also an allegory of East-West rivalry and Islamic political stagnation and ultimate decline.
Basu’s The Miniaturist has a less explicit message - the novel is far more concerned more about the interaction of the artist and this art, how talent changes the artist’s perception of the world and human relationships. Artistic geniuses are rarely entirely normal people, and this seems to hold as true for the Mughal miniaturists as 19th French impressionists.
However, even here, the idea that artistic stagnation is a leading indicator of political decline creeps into the book. “Art”, even great art, was largely produced in an almost factory-like environment, which stifled innovation. Bihzad is admonished for attempting to add depth to a painting: “A shadow belongs to your eyes, Bihzad. It doesn’t belong in a painting.”
It is difficult to avoid the comparison, however trite, between the novel and the paintings that figure in it. Like the paintings of the time, the book sparkles with minutely observed detail and finely drawn characters. Like the better miniatures, it is filled with not just the rich and powerful, but the women of the harem, merchants and blind beggars. Indeed, those who spent time perusing paintings from the period may very well recognize many of the scenes and characters.