As far as literary giants go, Jane Austen’s contribution is not that voluminous. She is primarily known for her six-major novels. Yet she has proved the literary equivalent of a fine wine. Jane Austen Societies of all kinds are going strong in different parts of the world, popular television and film adaptations continue to be made and the Regency era social comedy she helped make iconic is continually revived in fan-fiction. Most of these remain Anglo-centric, however, unlike Laaleen Sukhera’s collection of short stories, Austenistan.
A collection of this kind, celebrating Austen’s 200th death anniversary generates its own taglines. The blurb promises, “Jane Austen in Jimmy Choos” and, predictably enough, for that post-colonial nod, “Austen with garam masala”. It’s an intriguing proposition for Sukhera as the founder of the Jane Austen Society of Pakistan to have put together. What would Austen look like when her extremely constricted and specific world of dinner parties, picnics and balls is updated and transplanted to new soil?
For all their literary and reflective value, Austen’s novels have a repetitive plot line and the lives of her heroines revolve (whether they like it or not) around the difficulties of making a good match that improves one’s position in society and also satisfies one’s aching romantic heart. It is not that a big stretch to apply this theme to the social world of Pakistan where Regency inspired mores still flourish and Austenistan explores these similarities in great detail.
Just as debutantes and dowagers looked forward to the “season” in the 18th century upper crust England so also the three-month season for weddings and parties dominates social life in the stories in this collection. Austin’s “muslin” gowns find their counterparts in the local “cotton lawn” kurtas and salwars and present-day Pakistan is revealed as echoing the highly-mannered and status-conscious society of Austin’s world.
In the Mughal Empire by Saniyya Gauhar, Austen’s minor character, the thwarted Miss Bingley finds herself settled at last, and in a matter befitting her status, that even Austen’s counterparts would have approved of. “A year later, they were married in an elegant ceremony at Chatsworth House.” Appearances dominate the stories in this collection, clothes and jewels are conspicuous as markers of social class and grooms are best when their collateral includes NRI status, a foreign education, British ethnicity, or at least, the ability to snap up British ancestral estates and impress local aunties.
In Begum Saira Returns, Nida Elley describes the middle-aged Saira Qadir entering a tented pavilion to attend an afternoon wedding and she appears to be the sum of the parts of her outfit. “She wore an electric blue silk sari elegantly draped over a neon-yellow cropped blouse, custom-tailored by a hot young designer called Maeen K. A taupe Kashmiri shawl hung at her elbow and a forest green Fendi dangled from her wrist. Emerald teardrop earrings hung from her earlobes as matching row of teardrops ran across the delicate tan skin of her neck… Whatever they were saying about Saira, it would not be that she wasn’t au courant.”
Little wonder that the themes in this collection are mostly to do with helping their heroines in finding a good match. There’s a lot of promise here because Austen’s sharp commentary and easy wit provided an excavation of societal mores. It proves a tall order for this short story collection. This collection is modelled in a genre that is essentially chick-lit. This is most apparent in the first story, The Fabulous Banker Boys by Mahlia S. Lone. The story is bland, a copy of the chapters leading up to the ball in Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. Emma Bennet is Elisha Baig and Fitzgerald Darcy is Faiz Dar. The fact that we revisit their first meeting during the mehendi function of a wedding instead of at a county ball does little to add any novelty in the face of predictable dialogue.
Emaan Ever After by Mishayl Naek attempts to modernise things by casting the eponymous Emma as the disappointing daughter of a self-made industrialist father, whose “princess-level wedding followed by a divorce”, leaves her floundering. Unfortunately, Emaan is not very interesting and again the substitute of Austen’s candour for a type of borrowed cynicism lets the story down. “Admittedly, much of my work involved coming up with different ways of saying ‘socialite’ but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it… I allow my mind to flirt with the possibility of an interesting single male (at a party), though I know the chances are slim, even slimmer than the girls who’ll be lining up to bag him if he exists. Men at these things are usually aged, often crass, and typically picked in whiskey. What is about Pakistani men who allow them to be hideous, both in looks and in nature?”
The Autumn Ball by Gayathri Warnasuriya is one of the few stories to turn attention from the great matrimonial hunt to life after the event. It opens with a quote from Pride and Prejudice: “To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love,” and uses it as counterpoint. Maya who married her “Prince Charming” can no longer count on him to dance with her where this will lead them in this melancholy story about marital drift is anybody’s guess.
For the most part though, the stories in Austenistan strain to convey the spirit of the originals. On the Verge by Sukhera refracts the little reversals of Elizabeth Bennet’s love-life through the lens of Instagram and society blog updates around its heroine Roya. A website elaborates, “Scott Tanvir spotted canoodling with blogger Roya Khalil, estranged fiancée of ‘playboy’ Princey.” It’s not a bad premise but the storyline feels glib and in the realm of glossy-magazine style romances.
Even when, as in, Only The Deepest Love by Sonya Rehman, there is an attempt to talk about the bravery of young women in a patriarchal society, violence only serves to throw the heroine into the arms of a suitable man. Mired in the literal and dogged by superficialities Austenistan as a whole struggles to revive the expansive spirit of Austen in Pakistan.
Karishma Attari is the author of I See You and Don’t Look Down. She runs a workshop series called Shakespeare For Dummies.
