Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni: The Vine of Desire

By JENNY JONES

After reading Divakaruni's earlier novel, Sister of My Heart, I felt her characters Anju and Suddha would be with me forever, so when I was asked to review its sequel, The Vine of Desire, I looked forward to catching up with my old friends.

My admiration for Divakaruni is not unstinted. I found her bestselling Mistress of Spices pretentious even on a diligent second reading.

So I was doubly interested in the latest offering. Not only in what happened to the sisters but how far the new novel would live up to the promise of Sister of My Heart or sink to the pretensions of Mistress of Spices.

The Vine of Desire begins slowly, reintroducing characters and filling in their essentials for the benefit of new or forgetful readers.

Anju is in America now, married to her Indian-born Sunil and distraught after giving birth to a stillborn child. Sunil is suffering too and is still more dismayed that soon the beautiful Suddha, whom he loves in a way he shouldn't, will come to live with them.

Suddha brings with her baby Dayita, the product of a disastrous arranged marriage. Being an undervalued female, Dayita owes her life to her mother's refusal to have an abortion.

Suddha arrives without financial support. Her beauty, which makes men long to take care of her, has not served her well so far. She's a great cook (giving rise to many a comforting spicy aroma) but otherwise unskilled. Here they all are in America.

That's the mix.

Clearly the vine of desire entwining Suddha and Sunil will have to be cut away or it will engulf them. Divakaruni tells the story from everyone's point of view, leaving little to our imagination. Even the baby is incredibly knowing.

It all seems predictable until thankfully a new character comes on the scene - a second generation Indian-American, name of Lalit, who promptly falls in love with Suddha.

Dynamics within the family change irrevocably and the parties scatter to pursue alone the elusive goal of self-fulfilment. Only Suddha and Dayita remain together.

Whereas Sister of My Heart danced with the vitality of Anju and Suddha's youthful intimacy, The Vine of Desire delineates a relationship under severe strain. Readers have to do without the enriching historical dimension or rely on memory - a poor second to actualisation in the novel itself.

For the sake of Divakaruni's larger purpose, we are offered dreams, ancient Indian tales, unexpected juxtapositions of world events and asked to assess them in terms of omens and the law of the world.

The author intrudes, telling us that "The subterranean truths of Suddha's life are the ones we crave." Crave might be putting it a bit strongly.

It all seems calculated to make the characters and their agonies seem more important, but in fact they are reduced by their author's dominance.

They are also reduced by the fact of being in America.

The ancient tales, the mysteries of their Indian heritage seem irrelevant, and the author's insistence on their importance is forced.

Divakaruni asks interesting questions about living in a desired but alien culture, the spiritual pull of the lost homeland, the price that must be paid for true independence. She's just too pedantic with her answers.

Penguin Books

$34.95