San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
‘Henna Artist’ sequel rich in detail
South Bay author Alka Joshi’s sophomore novel, “The Secret Keeper of Jaipur,” is a sequel to her bestseller, “The Henna Artist,” and a thoroughly modern tale set in northern India in 1969. Awash in sensual details — the smell of clove oil and champaca cologne, the bleating of Himalayan goats, the sweet salty taste of cold lime water — it is a satisfying summer read made richer by its faroff setting and “exotic” cultural references.
Set 12 years after “The Henna Artist,” this novel once again follows henna artist Lakshmi Kumar, now married to Dr. Jay and living in Shimla in the Himalayan foothills, and her helper Malik, who, at 20, has just graduated from his tony prep school.
Readers who missed the first novel needn’t worry; Joshi has a penchant for exposition. Whether these catchup sections will be met with impatience or gratitude by fans of “Henna” will no doubt depend on how much of the first book they remember. The handy “Characters who Appear” list at the front
By Alka Joshi
(Mira; 384 pages; $27.99)
is also a good cheat sheet.
Early in the story, Malik falls for Nimmi, a young, newly widowed mother of two who has left the safety of her nomadic tribe to make a life for herself in Shimla with a flower stand. Like Lakshmi, she possesses an encyclopedic knowledge of the local flora and its medicinal properties. Unlike Lakshmi, she can’t read or write and has never used a telephone or a bathtub. She is the novel’s wise innocent, the purity in the face of a corrupt modern world.
Just as Nimmi and Malik’s relationship is deepening, Lakshmi sends him off to Jaipur to learn the construction business from her old friend Manu Agarwal, the facilities director of the Jaipur palace. The world of Jaipur in 1969 is peopled with many of the characters from “The Henna Artist,” enmeshed, as always, in the intricate power hierarchies of uppercrust Indian society.
Joshi lets her readers know early in the novel that the Royal Jewel Cinema, the palace’s grand construction project in Jaipur, collapses during the glamorous opening night, killing and injuring dozens of moviegoers. It’s when the tragedy is blamed on Manu, and Lakshmi goes to Jaipur to comfort her friend, that the central story of the novel begins: Who is actually to blame for the faulty construction, how did it all go down, and why is Manu being blamed?
The untangling of this mystery takes the reader through the worlds of Indian gold smuggling, the basics of brickandmortar construction, and even a little sheep shearing. We are brought along not so much because of any perfectly constructed mystery (while there is a strong needtoknow element here, the outcome is fairly predictable), but because to read this novel is to be immersed in the longgone world of midcentury Jaipur. Joshi is not a poetic writer, but her instinct for the perfect detail, the exact smell, image or sound, is intoxicating. After a year spent in lockdown, this novel is deliciously transporting.