The Bandit Queens
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A young Indian woman finds the false rumors that she killed her husband surprisingly useful—until other women in the village start asking for her help getting rid of their own husbands—in this razor-sharp debut. “Shroff captures the complexity of female friendship with acuity, wit, and a certain kind of magic irreverence. . . . The Bandit Queens is tender, unpredictable, and brimming with laugh-out-loud moments.”—Téa Obreht, New York Times bestselling author of The Tiger’s Wife Five years ago, Geeta lost her no-good husband. As in, she actually lost him—he walked out on her and she has no idea where he is. But in her remote village in India, rumor has it that Geeta killed him. And it’s a rumor that just won’t die. It turns out that being known as a “self-made” widow comes with some perks. No one messes with her, harasses her, or tries to control (ahem, marry) her. It’s even been good for business; no one dares to not buy her jewelry. Freedom must look good on Geeta, because now other women are asking for her “expertise,” making her an unwitting consultant for husband disposal. And not all of them are asking nicely. With Geeta’s dangerous reputation becoming a double-edged sword, she has to find a way to protect the life she’s built—but even the best-laid plans of would-be widows tend to go awry. What happens next sets in motion a chain of events that will change everything, not just for Geeta, but for all the women in their village. Filled with clever criminals, second chances, and wry and witty women, Parini Shroff’s The Bandit Queens is a razor-sharp debut of humor and heart that readers won’t soon forget.
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Slow beginning with more set-up than I really like but once it got moving, the story was engrossing and the characters well-drawn and memorable.
I found this book lighter than expected considering its subject matter! It's a well-written, clever, and entertaining debut.
The story follows Geeta, a thirty-something-year-old woman living in - and ostracized by - a small village in India; everyone assumes she had something to do with her husband's mysterious disappearance. She tells herself she's made peace with her pariah status, but when a woman in her loan group comes to her for help ‘taking care of' her own abusive husband, she can't bring herself to ignore her - and finds herself in an increasingly tangled web of plans, lies, and backstabbers. Enemies turn to friends and back again as the women examine their relationships and grapple with the age-old question: How many murders is too many, anyway?
Thanks to Ballantine Books and NetGalley for my ARC.
Holy shit. This was so, so, so good. Sassy; insightful; tender; enraging; illuminating; suspenseful; and smart as hell. And to think I felt dubious going in, fearing it would be fluff! Quite the opposite: I'd call it dense, and if that conjures up a negative impression, let that go. There's just so much in it: toxic masculinity, domestic violence, poverty, injustice, consent, ... but all of it served with a loving heart and a pretty hefty dose of brain. Let's say it's packed. I wasn't able to finish it in one day—see below—but I shuffled priorities to nibble at it every chance I had.You've read the blurb, you know the premise... but you have no idea where it's going. I felt off-balance for most of the book, thinking I had a grasp on the situations and characters, then things change: circumstances progress in interesting ways, and the characters, we learn more about them, information that changes how we see them. Really beautifully done: Shroff writes crisply, sparingly, with an impressive vocabulary, a wry wit, and a poker player's sharpness. We learn what she wants us to learn, when she wants us to learn it, and it's masterful. Cruelty, kindness, nuance, complexity; the book makes demands of the reader, and it rewards in kind.On the subject of demands: Shroff throws a big fuck-you to non-Indians. I spent many minutes, cumulatively easily over an hour, getting up to sit at my laptop and look up Gujarati or Hindi words, Indian customs. Sometimes she explains them a few pages later, more often not. Sometimes they're clear from context, sometimes not. Navrati, kabbadi, crore, gadheda... my time was well spent, and I was curious, and I learned. I am thankful to Shroff for not pandering to me.I loved this book so much that I ordered a copy for myself, to reread and to loan out. (To you, should you wish). But before you read it: if you are not Indian, please take time to learn about Phoolan Devi first. I read [b:this graphic novel 50162467 Phoolan Devi, Rebel Queen Claire Fauvel https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1575492203l/50162467.SX50_SY75.jpg 72611481], which J. at Samizdat had pressed on me some months ago, mere days before Bandit Queens—very, very fortuitous timing. Knowing about Devi was infinitely helpful to me in understanding context.Many parts don't add up: some suspension of disbelief is required for the coincidences, a few character interactions, plot gimmicks. All of these are completely forgivable. Wow, what a book.
