Review: 'Broken Verses' by Kamila Shamsie

Summary (from the back of the book)


Fourteen years ago Aasmani's mother Samina, a blazing beauty and fearless activist, walked out of her house and was never seen again. Aasmani refuses to believe she is dead and still dreams of her glorious return. Now grown up and living in Karachi, Aasmani receives what could be the longed-for proof that her mother is still alive. As she comes closer to the truth she is also irresistibly drawn to Ed, her ally and sparring partner, and the only person who can understand the profound hurt and the profound love- that drives her. 

Review

What struck me first was how different his book is in tone and content from Burnt Shadows, Shamsie's other book that I have read and fell in love with. As opposed to the silent strength of Hiroko in Burnt Shadows, Aasmani is fiery, witty, and makes "language somersault[s] through the rings of fire." She is sharp-tongued but has build a wall of intellect around her, within which she remains consumed by her past. Her fragility and her pain at being the daughter who was left behind, pervades the novel.

Her mother Samina captures the reader's imagination, just as she captures the hearts and minds of everyone around her. So does the Poet, Samina's lover, and through them one is exposed to the socio-political milieu of Karachi. It was interesting for me to read this book, and Mohammed Hanif's A Case of Exploding Mangoes, almost back to back, due to the cross-references. Both are set in Pakistan, with
Zia-ul-Haq as the ruling President. 


The charismatic Poet and Samina resist the repressive government through their words and actions, but ultimately it is a bomb that kills the President, making Aasmani feel, that their efforts and their lives were futile. She drifts between meaningless jobs, between the past and the present. Even though the book  is not depressing, it is  characterized by Aasmani's loss. 


It is beautifully and cleverly written, punctuated with wit and sarcasm. Even though it is not an epic novel like Burnt Shadows, it needs to be read slowly and savored in the same way. I know some people found Aasmani's endless musings and her analysis of everything around her tiresome, but I reveled in it. From her thoughts on Shakespeare to her discussion of Character, her frivolous comment on a heart, or her description of her mother as being "lodged, like a tear, in the corner of her [my] eye, I loved the language. I would read it again just to savor it.