FICTION
Taut thriller
R. KRITHIKA
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Bougainvillea House creeps into and takes over a reader's mind.
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Bougainvillea House, Kalpana Swaminathan, Penguin, Rs. 250.
JUST like the bougainvillea creeps over and covers a given surface, Kalpana Swaminathan's Bougainvillea House creeps into and takes over a reader's mind.
The story revolves around Clarice Aranxa, a victim of motor neuron disease. Clarice, despite her seeming physical weaknesses, is the one calling the shots. Brought to Bougainvillea House, her old home in Baga, she is to wait for her slow end in the company of her maid, Pauline. Daughter Marion will visit when she can get away from her job in Mumbai.
But Clarice cannot get away from her violent, secret past. And listening to Clarice, with her mixture of bitterness, racism and extreme prudishness, her doctor Liaqat Khan tries to make sense of what he is hearing.
Death stalks Clarice's life — her husband Clive, her daughter's fiancé Kevin, the young doctor in Baga, Justin, Justin's mother all die one after another. There are various first person accounts — Clarice, Pauline, Marion, Dr. Khan — but you cannot get away from Clarice. She is the spider at the centre of the web. Only you are not sure what the web is all about. Is she imagining things? Or is she responsible for various deaths? Or is she just a fussy old lady with a mean streak?
Certainly she has not had a happy life. Her husband two-times her with a local girl. When she returns to Bougainvillea House, she finds that her husband's illegitimate son, Dr. Justin Borges, is the local doctor who is to care for her. She is not happy with her two daughters. As she rambles on about her life, you learn of her past and the deaths that follow in her wake.
Grim tone
And you begin to wonder. The finicky, almost obsessive way in which she prepares for her death — "I've laid out my wardrobe for my positively last appearance above ground: Black raw silk suit ... ivory crepe blouse ... Black court shoes, not suede ... Gucci... " It's Estee Lauder for her face — "Hypoallergenic, odourless: cleanser, astringent, foundation, matte powder, highlighter, blush, oth crème and powder. And all my eye make-up, including the brushes... The lipstick I've chosen is a soft brown ... A whole bottle of Chanel 5 ... " — is possibly one of the eeriest passages in the book and it sets the tone for what follows.
Dr. Khan is sure she is delusional but after the death of Justin he is not sure. Much to the irritation of his wife, he is becoming obsessed with Clarice. He comes up with an unusual plan to help Clarice clear her mind. But this only leads to more deaths.
Gripping uncertainty
The reader swings between pity, sympathy and horror, as the frail widow spews her venom against her husband, her daughter, her maid and the world in general. A constant phrase — "I tell you these silly details only to show you how little I can be held responsible for the events that followed" — is invoked to show how little control she has over events. There are times when you are sure she is shamming it, all natak as Pauline repeatedly tells the doctor. But then again, you are not sure.
As the book develops, the reader sinks into the twilight zone of Clarice's mind, right up to the final denouement. Written much as one would speak, the book's prose has a mesmerising, almost hypnotic, quality. At times, overwhelmed by the darkness of Clarice's mind, you put the book down. But you can't keep away because you want to know what happens, who is responsible. A gripping tale indeed.
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