Originally published in 1962, Khadija takes us into the cloistered world of a family on a downward trajectory in The Women’s Courtyard. Aliya’s family was once very wealthy. Now, they cling on to the little that’s left to them. Aliya’s mother longs for the days of privilege and schemes to get a little bit of it back. Aliya’s father and uncle hope for independence from Britain. Her cousins have little hope for anything at all. In the middle of everything, Aliya slowly learns how some choices can trap you, while others can free you. This novel is beautifully translated by Daisy Rockwell.
Though the characters come and go, nearly everything that happens in this novel happens in the courtyard of a haveli. The courtyard of a haveli is a place where women cook, raise children, talk, read, eat, pray, and sleep on hot days. Only family or servants can go there. The homes Aliya and her family live in are far from the majestic ones that housed royalty and the very rich, but they still serve to provide shelter for Aliya’s family. Aliya’s family loses their first home just before the Second World War breaks out, when her father assaults a visiting British officer and gets a seven-year prison sentence. The only place they can go is Aliya’s maternal uncle’s home. We stay with Aliya and her relatives from the late 1930s through the Partition of India in 1947.
Outside events—Aliya’s father’s imprisonment, hunger during the war, Independence, and Partition—influence what happens to our protagonist and her family, but there’s more drama inside the courtyard than out. Much of this drama is the result of Aliya’s mother, who cannot let go of her bitterness, anger, jealousy, and pride. If I ever met this woman in real life, I would run. It’s a wonder Aliya isn’t poisoned by this woman’s toxic influence. Remarkably, Aliya’s intelligence allows her to observe and learn rather than let the adults in her life shape her in their images. She doesn’t grow bitter. She doesn’t become a revolutionary. Most unusual of all, Aliya even resists following the expected path of marriage and motherhood. The Women’s Courtyard is a fascinating bildungsroman, though some readers may struggle with Aliya’s mother.
I was thankful for the introductory notes written by translator Rockwell and author Kamila Shamsie. I usually skip these because I want to form my own impressions of a book before I read about what others’ think. Shamsie’s foreword provides a lot of useful background information about Mastur and the cultural, religious, and historical context of The Women’s Courtyard. Rockell’s introduction helpfully explained the names in the novel. In the original Urdu, most of the characters are referred to by their relationship to Aliya. Because English lacks specific words for maternal uncle, etc., Rockwell transformed Urdu words into names for English readers and then used them consistently so that we wouldn’t lose track of who was who. I strongly recommend reading these before diving into the novel proper.
I received a free copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley, for review consideration.
