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"In the wake of an insignificant battle between two long-forgotten kingdoms in fourteenth-century southern India, a nine-year-old girl has a divine encounter that will change the course of history. After witnessing the death of her mother, the grief-stricken Pampa Kampana becomes a vessel for the goddess Parvati, who begins to speak out of the girl's mouth. Granting her powers beyond Pampa Kampana's comprehension, the goddess tells her that she will be instrumental in the rise of a great city called Bisnaga--literally "victory city"--the wonder of the world. Over the next two hundred and fifty years, Pampa Kampana's life becomes deeply interwoven with Bisnaga's, from its literal sowing out of a bag of magic seeds to its tragic ruination in the most human of ways: the hubris of those in power. Whispering Bisnaga and its citizens into existence, Pampa Kampana attempts to make good on the task that Parvati set for her: to give women equal agency in a patriarchal world. But all stories have a way of getting away from their creator, and Bisnaga is no exception. As years pass, rulers come and go, battles are won and lost, and allegiances shift, the very fabric of Bisnaga becomes an ever more complex tapestry--with Pampa Kampana at its center"--… (more)
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Rushdie takes the history of the rise and fall of Vijayanagar as the framework for a magic-realist historical novel in which he is setting out quite a different kind of agenda. His narrator (through a Long Lost Manuscript), the prophet and matriarch Pampa Kampana, whose adult life corresponds exactly to the two hundred and fifty year life of the city she founded, has a vision of her creation as a liberal paradise founded on principles of equal opportunity and religious toleration. Well, we all know how that's going to end, don't we...? Bigotry, ambition, and (male) selfishness undermine her ambitions time and time again, and in the end the city is destroyed by a coalition of enemies.
In the circumstances, this somehow felt like a far less bitter and pessimistic book than the one Rushdie might have written. He may not have much faith in humanity's competence to run a city or a planet without messing up, but he is prepared to give a lot of credit to individuals for trying to make the world less awful. Especially if they happen to be ninja princesses. And he peppers the narrative with his usual half-buried literary jokes where we least expect them — I particularly enjoyed the little nod to R K Narayan which popped up out of nowhere at one of the darker moments in the story.
A remarkable novel, an epitome of allegory. This unpredictable tale, where magic intersperses with reality, takes you to a different world a number of centuries ago - but maybe not so different (?...), as the
As Ron Charles notes:
Though “Victory City” was completed before the knife attack at Chautauqua , it’s impossible not to read parts of this grand fantasy as an allegory of the author’s struggles against sectarian hatred and ignorance. Indeed, given the physical and emotional sacrifices he’s made, some coincidences between this story and his own life are almost too poignant to bear...
I enjoyed the novel and would recommend it, but highly recommend Midnight's Children as a primer for this famous author.
Lines:
Good sample of tone-
After that, at least in Vidyasagar’s version of events, they lived together easily enough, sleeping on opposite corners of the floor of the cave, and they got along fine, in part because the monk had sworn a solemn vow of abstinence from the things of the flesh, so that even when Pampa Kampana blossomed into the grandeur of her beauty he never laid a finger on her although the cave wasn’t very big and they were alone in the dark. For the rest of his life that was what he said to anyone who asked—and there were people who asked, because the world is a cynical and suspicious place and, being full of liars, thinks of everything as a lie. Which is what Vidyasagar’s story was.
Domingo Nunes sent his fireworks soaring into the sky. The Sangama brothers, open-mouthed, watched them fly, and understood that the future was being born, and that Domingo Nunes would be its midwife.
By this time his body had bulged and sagged in several places, and he had the helpless look of a bulbous human root vegetable, a rutabaga or a beetroot.
In this way Pampa learned the lesson every creator must learn, even God himself. Once you had created your characters, you had to be bound by their choices. You were no longer free to remake them according to your own desires. They were what they were and they would do what they would do.
Maybe this is what human history was: the brief illusion of happy victories set in a long continuum of bitter, disillusioning defeats.
History is the consequence not only of people’s actions, but also of their forgetfulness.”
“Nothing endures, but nothing is meaningless either. We rise, we fall, we rise again, and again we fall. We go on. I too have succeeded and I have also failed. Death is close now. In death do triumph and failure humbly meet. We learn far less from victory than from defeat.”
Centuries ago, when Pampa Kampana was 9 years old, in India, she watched, horrified, as her mother entered the funeral pyre, following other women who had gone before her. It was the common practice of the day for widows, but Pampa was
Suddenly, Pampa discovered she was literate. She was given a bag of seeds by the Goddess which she passed on to two brothers. They become the architects of her city, simply by planting them. As they watched the magical rising of a city from seeds, like plants, the magic astounded them. Suddenly they were filled with thoughts of grandeur and decided that they would become the heirs to the throne in this city, and so they became the future rulers, beginning the march toward Pampa’s end. Although the city would rise and become spectacular, with hopes for a world of beauty and love, the human frailties of greed and the desire for power would bring about its demise.
The tale, often requiring the suspension of disbelief, as it uses magical realism, anthropomorphism and transmogrification to illustrate and mock the shallowness and pettiness of the values we live by and cherish, often foolishly, our similarities and differences appear in stark contrast. The novel will demonstrate how our stubbornness to adhere to destructive desires will bring about the eventual end of what was meant to be a utopian world, that instead, descended into a world filled with injustice, and man’s inhumanity to man.
Because the prose is so beautiful, and the narrator reads the words with such feeling, it is difficult to stop listening, even when the tale gets so entangled in ideas, unknown places and characters that it grows confusing. As the author presents a fantasy that mocks our world, a world often rife with petty grievances, it is often humorous and often sarcastic. The readers cannot help thinking about the situation in our current culture that causes unrest and wars as they watch Pampa Kampana’s life reveal itself.
Pampa does not age and is forced to watch as her lovers, husbands and children age before her, eventually dying and leaving her behind. Using real cities and people from history, Rushdie blends facts and fiction to create this allegory. His message about the moral decadence of our world is obvious although it is hidden in this very creative, if not always easy to read, fantasy. Rushdie mocks our religious beliefs, and our social and cultural mores as he exposes, among other things, the racism, xenophobia, conflicting religious practices, sexual deviance, homophobia, greed, jealousy, and hunger for fame, fortune and power that humans are heir to. He deftly reveals the cracks in our own society that he seems to feel will eventually destroy us, as well, because of our human frailties. Sometimes crude, sometimes outlandish, it is always on point exposing society’s ills. It is very provocative as it questions every value we cling to, values that are often self-destructive and condescending. Sexual behavior is often exaggerated or stressed as Pampa suffers the consequences of the exigencies of her life. Occasionally, the language seems unnecessarily crude, but I expect that the author is also mocking our use of language to hurt others. Words can cause destruction. The allusion to pink monkeys warring with monkeys of other colors, is obviously an illusion to racism and the use of elephants reminded me that there are many elephants in the room that we ignore.
In Victory City, Rushdie blends historical fact, religion, and fiction into this story of Bisnaga, the victory city, created by and with history told by the poet Pampa Kampana. In the end we are left with the question of what is
I really liked this book. It was thought provoking and left me wanting to research the historical events. It seems to me that it has a lot to say, not only about history, but about story-telling as well.
As always, Rushdie's writing is brilliant and engaging and playful.