Epic Haste

If there is one word that can synopsise King of Ayodhya, it is 8220;but8221;. The first of this six-part series began well8212;fresh, energetic, imaginative.

If there is one word that can synopsise King of Ayodhya, it is 8220;but8221;. The first of this six-part series began well8212;fresh, energetic, imaginative. The caricaturing of characters8212;Manthara, Jatayu, Surpanakha8212;is as colourful as Valmiki8217;s, whose larger than life poetry gives him his unique position in Indian literature. But in a retelling, style can only serve to deliver substance, story, movement. Banker8217;s last book does all of these but he seems to be overwhelmed and dominated by his technique, his Frankenstein. Or shall we say, his Ravana? To the extent that at points, as he transplanted a modern tsunami onto a millennia-old period or even Ravana8217;s first earth-attack, I was yawning.

Banker8217;s rakshasas, like Valmiki8217;s, are frightening, evil, huge. You can almost smell the stench of their bodies. A brilliant modern-day recreation of ancient malevolence. The detailing is deep and thought through. The atmosphere has a menace. There8217;s enough for Peter 8216;Lord of the Rings8217; Jackson to work on. But, for how long can you marvel at slimy bodies, rutting salivations, scaly skins? After the first dozen times, over six books, the wow is over. The eyes skip words, paras, pages to get to return to the story.

In fact, in this book Banker seems tired, impatient to end a grand series. The five books that led up to the climax of this story had us waiting for more, as they pendulated from brilliance to repetitive. This should have been a grand finale to celebrate what I would unequivocally define as the best retelling of a tale that sings its song in the spiritual DNA of every Indian. Valmiki8217;s style is vital, emotive, tugs at the heartstrings8212;Banker barely makes it here.

Personally, until Banker8217;s Ramayana came, I couldn8217;t relate to this story. Sanskrit I knew not, so Valmiki was out of bounds. The English translations by R K Narayan, Kamala Subramaniam et al are weary renditions in a new language that do nothing to tickle the imagination. The closest I came to enjoying this epic was the annual dance-drama organised by Shriram Bharatiya Kala Kendra.

Then came Prince of Ayodhya. And changed the approach to Indian mythology. Banker shows how a story everyone knows can be retold creatively, contemporarily. Writings on Indian mythology, particularly the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, have been plagued with cliches, moral crusts, creating bored recitals. Banker changed that.

He should also get credit for changing the way future authors will approach Indian mythology.

But five books later, King8230; ends in a tragic betrayal of an epic promise. The freshness is no longer refreshing, the style predictable, the surprise expected. It8217;s almost like creating pages to fill a book, a great saga prolonged into a six-piece package that can be sold rather than a retelling that can hold. What we have is a technique honed, its nuances sharpened, its style signatured. One more quarrel: If Banker can8217;t come to terms with the banishment of Sita and hence ends the series a kaand earlier, how can he reconcile with agni pariksha8212; something equally un-Rama?

Story continues below this ad

Banker8217;s retelling, despite this critique whose roots ironically are extremely high expectations, is a generational hyperjump8212; no other retelling comes anywhere close. It is a must-read. But he needs more than a magnificent style to negotiate his next project, the Mahabharata, an even more complex, more layered tale. He needs staying power.