Vaasanthi’s Breaking Free, translated from Tamil by N Kalyan Raman, is the story of two girls, Kasturi and Laxmi, born in the devadasi clan. While Kasturi goes on to embrace her art and to dance the way she breathed – effortlessly, devotedly, and under fetters that she took a lifetime to notice – Laxmi tears away from what they tell her she was born to do, becoming a doctor, a freedom fighter, and a member of the legislative council who advances the abolition of the devadasi system. The novel revolves around the lives of the two women, interspersed with the voice of Kasturi’s great-granddaughter on a mission to uncover the mystery behind her mother’s inexplicable suicide.
Being a devadasi
“We may not be chaste women who never step out of their homes. But we are artists.”
Breaking Free explores the inner conflict of the devadasi clan as a whole with a keen eye and a meticulous hand. Moments of reflection like the one above aren’t merely conserved for neat little pockets in the narrative; their concern percolates throughout the book, not just through Laxmi’s and Kasturi’s musings about their respective conditions, but also through what they see in other women:
“At the beach on Sunday, Mami’s personality was completely transformed. She laughed like an adolescent girl. She marvelled at the British couples. It lifted Lakshmi’s spirits to stand in the water with Mama and Mami, and to see how lovingly Mami edged closer to her husband and how she laughed heartily at the sensation of the water eroding the sand beneath her feet as it receded.”
That’s exactly where the true appeal of Breaking Free lies – in its nod to women who aren’t devadasis and through Vaasanthi’s ability to put herself in her character’s shoes with real discipline.
“The unlucky wretch needs comfort now, does she?”
The quote above is from a nearly inconsequential character – Yogu’s mother-in law. Yogu, a widowed child, is saved by Laxmi from the cruel fate she’s subjected to by her in-laws. Laxmi gives her a chance for a new life, and as Yogu takes it of course, the reader breathes a sigh of relief, freedom, and uneasy hope. Breaking Free clings to its historical context assiduously. Page by page, the story in the book becomes about chances – some that are taken, others regretted, and, for the most part, many that are only dreamed of.
An incomplete tale
But in its scramble to be historically accurate and map the stories of Kasturi and Laxmi differently from each other, the book doesn’t give much justice to each character’s possible inner turmoil beyond the surface. It’s almost as if Vaasanthi neatly points to two straight paths that fork away from the same road. The possible intermingling of the paths, what kind of shoes you might need to be able to walk on them, and what views you might see on the way are never explored.
The reader knows, for example, that Laxmi had to work hard to become a member of the legislative council. And that Kasturi remained a dancer, unable to find a place for herself in society as one without consequences to bear, and eventually regretted everything. Her life was steeped in misery.
While the reminder of there being not many choices for women in the first place is well taken, the character development becomes a little dull, and doesn’t let much go on. The narrator, for instance, is trapped in the memories of her mother and her murky past – but why? While the premise is explored with leisure, and the atmosphere of the foggy forest and ancient houses is thrilling and inviting at the same time, the reader is left waiting for more of an explanation.
For this reason, Breaking Free makes the reader work a little hard to remember why they must continue reading – especially with the frequent changes in voice that become a little difficult to make sense of – but the effortless prose and the charming translation keeps them reading nonetheless.
Raman’s translation pulses through the book steadily and keeps the reader walking, especially through dialogue. Take for example, “You are angry with me for not having self-respect. But even for self-respect, you’ll need resources, no? I was worried that if I insisted on respect, Mirasu would stop coming here. But you don’t understand that.”
Breaking Free might confuse the reader initially. But because of its defiance, it’ll never put them to sleep.
Breaking Free, Vaasanthi, translated from the Tamil by N Kalyan Raman, Harper Collins.
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