I generally don’t read fiction, especially the more populist bestseller kind. So when I saw this book on the Crossword and other bestseller lists, I was very hesitant. The last thing I was seeking was a ’’pastime’’ read by some desi John Grisham or Danielle Steele. But several friends whose opinion I trust recommended it so highly to me that I had to know what all the fuss was about. I’m glad I took the chance. Prince of Ayodhya opens with lush kingly descriptions of ancient Aryavarta. You can see right away that Ashok Banker (or Ashok K. Banker as he now prefers to call himself) was aiming at something far more ambitious than simply reciting by rote the great epic.
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As a young man, I’d read C. Rajagopalachari’s version and that was my main impression--that while it was a good introduction to the tale, it was childishly simple and plain. You have to read the Arshia Sattar translation of Valmiki or the excellent Penguin edition of Kamban’s version to see how much rich detail and plot is left out by the children’s version retellers. Surprisingly, even R. K. Narayan accomplished almost nothing with his retellings of both Ramayan and Mahabharata. If anything, he simplified them to make them even more childish. Personally, I prefer a novel to be more ambitious literally speaking.
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Banker’s Ramayana starts very promisingly. There is a lot of detail, many new characters and incidents, and at times, he throws ancient mannerisms together with startling modern usage of language and even colloquilisms. But after a while, you start to get a sense of the author’s own personality in the reading--as if Ashok Banker himself is sitting before you, telling the story. And how well he tells it!
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Once I read the first few pages, I couldn’t put the book down. It was with great regret that I finally turned the last page, and found the glossary instead of another chapter. I’ve already placed a pre-order with Crossword for the second book, which they inform me is on its way from the UK. And I intend to read the whole series.
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Ignore the critics, especially the Indian ones. They will always find fault with our fellow writers, while lavishing praise on the firang auteurs. It’s the legacy the British left us: ’’Look West, young man!’’ I always make up my own mind about an author and a book, and in this case, I heartily recommend a great historical recreation of a great epic. Elegantly told, beautifully structured and narrated, excitingly gripping, Prince of Ayodhya is what a great Indian novel should be. Prannoy