City of Djinns by Willilam Dalrymple

The past several weeks have proved very busy for me. I have not had many opportunities to sit down and cogitate. I have, however, as is even in the case with the busiest times, set forth to read several news books I have recently purchased. One book (of the at least ten) that I am reading is City of Djinns, a travelogue/social history of the city Delhi in India. I would not have come across this book were it not for having previously read Dalrymple's other well-written work, From the Holy Mountain, which largely concerns Christians in the Middle East.

The City of Djinns is surprisingly a very interesting read. I say surprisingly, not because of Dalrymple's writing style, which remains superb, but because I came to the book without any previous fascination with India, the Moghul Empire, British colonialism. William Dalrymple does excellent work of weaving events of the past with the present and making the past relevant to the customs and every-day living of Indians today. One of many examples is the eunuchs of Delhi. Originally court eunuchs under the Moghul Dynasty, the eunuchs now serve the general populace in blessing marriages and weddings, and as dance entertainers. Dalrymple shows how the beliefs and traditions of the collapsed Moghul empire have merged with the traditions of Hinduism. As Dalrymple explains, eunuchs were highly regarded in Muslim countries because they often guarded important religious tombs and relics. In Hinduism, on the other hand, eunuchs were viewed as worse than the lowest of classes. Dalrymple, with a keen wit, portrays how the very same people who throw rubbish at the eunuchs are the ones who invite them to bless the family during marriages and births. Dalrymple does this throughout the book. He never suggests these paradoxes are anything but that (I never receive the impression of judgment from Dalrymple). When Dalrymple comes down hard, it usually is on those who as individuals probably deserve the criticism. Dalrymple details some of the atrocities the British committed on the native population in 1847, and Dalrymple evinces little sympathy for those responsible for the horrible crimes of violence, committed by the British or otherwise.

Dalrymple's book's addictive, and I look forward to reading White Mughals next (I in fact already own a copy, just haven't had the time lately to get into it.