Valmiki’s Daughter by Shani Mootoo is that rare novel — one that is written by a West Indian of Indian origin but doesn’t tackle the issue of race. Instead, Mootoo, a well-known author who has been nominated for several awards, tackles the issue of sexuality and the price one pays for asserting one’s individuality in a society hung up on its own past.
The “Valmiki” in the title is Dr Valmiki Krishnu, a well-respected doctor who lives with his wife Devika and daughters, Viveka and Vashti, in an upper middle class suburb of Trinidad. He has another well-known identity, that of a womaniser. His indiscretions are well-known and yet nobody will say anything, because he is a doctor, a respected pillar of the community.
The womanising, perhaps, is a way of hiding his shameful secret, protecting his reputation: Valmiki is a closet homosexual who is unable to get over his lover from his student days. What is even more damning to him is the fact that his wife knows all about it. But in typical suburban housewife fashion, she has kept quiet about it and the Krishnus continue to live, without acknowledging the elephant in the bedroom. Juxtaposed against Valmiki’s misery and guilt is Viveka, his bright and passionate daughter. She clashes predictably with her mother who is intent on controlling the only part of her family she can, her daughters. Viveka is dating a mixed-race boy, Elliot, partly to annoy her mother, though at 20, she is beginning to have doubts about her sexuality. This state of muted longing and uncertainty is shaken up when Nayan, the son of a rich cacao farmer and the Krishnus’ close friend, brings home a beautiful French wife Anick who is openly bisexual. Her arrival awakens desires in Viveka and brings things to a head with Valmiki in a way that neither could have anticipated.
Shani Mootoo has crafted a vivid portrait of a family that is collapsing in on itself due to secrets that cannot be acknowledged even though they steer their actions. She has done a great job of addressing the pretensions of upper class Trinidadians of Indian origin who, perhaps because of their history as freed slaves, maintain a strict social code. Valmiki is an extremely flawed protagonist but we empathise with him because Mootoo lets us in on why he is flawed. We even understand his wife who is trying to fix all that is broken in her family. But most of all we root for Viveka who seems to have been given the chance to live the life her father should have.
Another character that Mootoo has used to make her point regarding this community is Nayan. As the son of a wealthy merchant, Nayan expects to have the best of everything. Sent for an education to Canada, he returns with his “trophy”, Anick. In one passage he explains to Viveka that even though he is rich, he had to develop all the pretensions of the white people of Canada to be accorded the same respect. Anick, therefore, falls into that category — she is his ticket to social success. But things come to a boil when there is an obvious spark between Viveka and Anick and everything the families had tried to sweep under the carpet begins to rear its ugly head.
Mootoo was raised in Trinidad and describes the streets of San Fernando with the affection and ease of a resident. Her description of the musty smells of the streets teeming with hawkers and food stalls is easy to imagine for Indian readers. Viveka’s confusion that transforms to self-awareness is also identifiable. What makes Mootoo’s book worth reading is how she takes a simple plot and brings it to life through her deft characterisation and an ever-present sense of urgency.