~ A God in Every Stone, by Kamila Shamsie ~
For those of us who are avid Shamsie-readers, this sixth novel is an eagerly awaited one.
Kamila Shamsie’s first four novels (In the City By the Sea, Salt and Saffron, Kartography, and Broken Verses) were primarily set in Pakistan, with a strong Pakistani protagonist at the heart of the novel along with a number of other well developed characters. Shamsie’s fifth novel, however, Burnt Shadows, departed slightly from her previous novels, being far wider in scope and ambition, more epic in terms of tying large swathes of the world together geographically and historically, and it unexpectedly contained a Japanese protagonist. A God in Every Stone, Shamsie’s aptly titled sixth and most recent novel, is much like her fifth in its vastness and sense of the epic, and also in not having a Pakistani protagonist, or even a single protagonist. If one has to identify protagonists, then there are two here, a Pathan soldier and an English lady; but the novel is far too complex to be thought of as only being built around the storylines of these two characters.
Sited primarily in Peshawar, this novel tells the reader from the very beginning that this city is ancient Caspatyrus. Legends and history intertwine richly in Shamsie’s telling. She links the present of the novel (World War I) with 515 BC and the story of Scylax and his Circlet of Silver. Scylax was an explorer, storyteller, and leader of missions, sent to India to get information for the conquering of India, a man of Caria and regarded as a barbarian, but so trusted that he was given the Circlet of Silver by Persian Emperor Darius. However, 20 years later when the Carians rebelled against the Empire, Scylax took the side of his countrymen, against Empire and Darius. Shamsie tells us this story because her novel investigates the same themes in the modern day context – themes of where loyalties (ought to) lie, issues of clanship and traditions, and how intercultural relationships and friendships are strained under the stress of competing geographical demands, cultural limitations, and gender segregations.
Many storylines of disparate characters and places come together in the end, lives intersecting and occasionally colliding with painful result. The novel has an unusual structure, going back and forth in its storyline, retelling the same incident or event from another character’s point of view. This method of writing lends a certain fluidity to history and memory, adding layers to the story, enriching the plot and embroidering the tapestry of chronology.
There is a lot of charm in this novel, as there always in a Shamsie novel. The quality of the writing remains sterling. However, I confess I miss the whimsical allure and unthinking elegant assurance of Aliya in Salt and Saffron, Rahel in Kartography, or Aasmaani of Broken Verses. Yes, many of Shamsie’s beloved themes – of memory and history (re)scripted, of politics tied into the personal – are still running vividly through her most recent novels too, but in taking on such a epic scale, does Shamsie’s light touch sometimes become just a little too light, with some situations barely sketched in? That said, there were always some evasive elements about all Shamsie’s novels, and while that playful evasiveness intrigued, particularly in her first four novels, it would be a pity if it was taken to the extent of leaving the reader dissatisfied or puzzled.
Shamsie’s last two novels are much less playful than her first four; A God In Every Stone, like Burnt Shadows, is painted with a somber palate of colours, but nevertheless, painted with a sure and masterful hand.
A God in Every Stone, by Kamila Shamsie. Bloomsbury, London, 2014.
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