BANGALORE: Hangwoman, the English translation of K R Meera's latest Malayalam novel, Aarachaar, is a brave, new opus on a fictional, old family of executioners. It's sweeping in its magnitude and plunges deep and hard into history that dates back to ancient India, weaving together a tapestry of shared memories by a family that's desperately trying to hang on to its trade that will sooner rather than later fade.
The book traces the story of 22-year-old Chetna Mullick, who acquires the post of assistant hangman to her father, the current hangman. The Grddha Mullick family is a long line of hangmen, but it is Chetna who must become India's first woman executioner. Soon enough, fame sniffs her out from her small, dilapidated house where she lives with her parents, her disabled brother and paternal grandmother along with her aunt and uncle. Throw into this mixed bag Sanjeev Kumar Mitra, the popular anchor of a highly rated news television channel, who seems to have dubious intentions when it comes to Chetna. The young executioner finds herself inexplicably attracted to Sanjeev. But as you read on you wonder if he's hiding something behind his confident and arrogant exterior. And while she tries to steel herself against her new-found profession, she also becomes the star of her own segment on Sanjeev's news show, counting down the days to the execution.
It is exhilarating to follow Chetna on her rip-roaring journey, as she narrates the stories of her ancestors for the television audience who raptly await her on-screen arrival every night. The souls of her ancestors come alive in front of our eyes as she narrates their stories. The author makes good use of this storytelling within a story technique, never once breaking the pace of the narrative. We're glued to the book, just like Chetna's audience is hooked on to her stories.
The book tries to do a lot in its 448 pages. A feminist narrative, it is also in its heart, humanist in perspective. Turning a critical eye on issues like capitalism, modern media, present day governance and its apathy shown towards the country's have-nots, the book is definitely brave in its intentions. To create a completely fictional world and set it in a place that's very much real and exists today (the novel is set in present day Kolkata) is a feat in itself.
It's a disturbingly visceral journey too. Chetana's emotions are never in her control, while the two men in her life, her father and the news anchor, vie for her submission. The power politics of gender is a continuous undercurrent throughout the book. And how Chetna grows because of this. Soon she's the one pulling the strings, after all she could kill a man just with the help of her dupatta, which she absentmindedly seems to tie into a perfect noose every few minutes. The ghosts of the Mullicks' past help her prepare for her impending job, and it's also crucial to note how hard Chetna tries to find a feminist strain in the stories that are mostly about men.
While the translation by J Devika is for the most part effective and subtly executed, there are times when you feel that the translator over-reaches and for a split-second you see through the cracks in the writing. Some of Chetna's more complex emotions are flat-lined because of this and the overall impact is lost, especially in the stages when the character is going through a phase of confusion, which are many.
Hangwoman is a dark book that talks about death in all its gory detail. It makes for a good, quick read over a weekend because of its steady pace and enthralling stories.
Hangwoman by KR Meera, translated from Malayalam by J Devika, Penguin Books, Rs 699