A New Trend in Indian English Fiction

This articulation of the exalted vocation of artists are the parting words of advice given by an eminent miniaturist to his ace pupil – Bihzad of the quote – in Kunal Basu's novel The Miniaturist.

Set in the 16th century, The Miniaturist (2003) tells the story of the painter Kamal-al-Din Bihzad, son of Abdus Samad Shirazi, chief artist in the court of the Mughal emperor Akbar. The historical Bihzad showed exceptional artistic talent as a boy and was expected to succeed his father, but he rebelled and then dropped out of sight – lost to history. In this novel, Basu thus weaves a tale from what was essentially a footnote in history. But the novel is a contemporary one, because (as this chapter will argue) what it primarily explores has deep relevance even today – namely, the relationship between art and the artist, and the extent to which it is defined by love, success and power.

The Miniaturist is Basu's second novel. His first, The Opium Clerk (2001), is about a clerk at Calcutta's Auction House, Hiran, who gets embroiled in the shady opium trade of the British and finds himself being caught up in events beyond his control. The action of the story takes us as far as Canton and Kuching in China, but the novel is most memorable for its evocation of late-nineteenth-century Calcutta.

Coming at the early part of the decade, these two novels (The Opium Clerk and The Miniaturist) announced the arrival of a new and rare talent in Indian English fiction – one who, unlike many others of his generation, was not taken up with contemporary India or parables of the nation.