The Twentieth Wife

It is a rare and terribly uncomfortable day when I realize I simply can't finish this book I've started. I was excited to read The Twentieth Wife by Indu Sundaresan when it was chosen last month as our club read. India is a country I know very little about but, as with most people, it fascinates. Paired with a ladies night out to see "Eat Pray Love," I thought it would be a tropical September indeed.

Disclaimer: I am only half-way through the book. As the date for our club's monthly meeting approaches this week, I realize a couple things: 1. it should not be taking me so long to read this book, and 2. I must not be enjoying it because I keep finding other things to do when I've scheduled time to read, and 3. I shouldn't have to schedule time to read, I should be in a rhythm of just doing it. Therefore, my conclusion is: I am not finding enough in this book to make me care about the characters enough to finish it. I quit.

It took over a week for me to figure out why I was having such a tough time with The Twentieth Wife, a story of a pair of star-crossed lovers in imperial Mughal India in the 16th century. The protagonist Mehrunnisa is everything a feminist would want: intelligent, head-strong, gorgeous, and independent. However, I'm half-way through the book and it seems to me that the author has marginalized her just as much as the culture she lives in does. Her only act of bravery has been to smile through her emotional pain, and let's not fault her that. This is based on a true story and sometimes the bravest thing to do is deal with the situation you're in. I was just hoping for a little more action, some cultural rebellion, something worthy of the Disney-esque princess Sundaresan seems to be writing. (That is exactly what this feels like: a book written to be animated and put to a soundtrack written by MIA and Phil Collins with uplifting lyrics and a bodacious babe in gold lamé.)

Thus far, the author has spent way too much time telling me about the prince that Mehrunnisa is over the moon for and not giving me a reason to care. He's kind of a jackass to be honest: drug-addled, impressionable, selfish, and without any kind of honor to speak of. In the meantime, the child Mehrunnisa was thrilling to read about, but as soon as she grew up Sundaresan began ignoring her and only checking in each year as she doubled over in pain with another miscarriage. I've stopped caring whether she meets this Prince (not so) Charming or not. She's probably better off; her husband tends to be away a lot anyway and I think there are probably books somewhere she could liberate.

I can only hope she's building to a triumphant finish but I'm too tired to care and I want to move on. Perhaps I'm being impatient, it has happened before; but I've usually enjoyed the journey toward the climax and in this case it has become tiring. I don't want to read about Indian military history or another sentence so full of unfamiliar terms that I have to use the glossary six times to translate it to a place where I can understand it. Tell me the story, cut out the unnecessary minutes of what went on in court each day, and cut to the chase. And make it romantic if that's what it should be! Don't make me wade through red tape to get to a beautiful story and quit marginalizing your own heroine!