ASMITA – A chilling and introspective novel

Reviewed by Lochana Liyanage

This eponymous novel by Seneka Abeyratne (published Dr. Cicero Books, New York, in 2017) is a fast-paced narrative which relates the life of a beautiful, highly-intelligent, freelance prostitute from Colombo 7. At 23, she reveals much of her life in flashbacks. Asmita is just nine years old when she hears her mother screaming in the bedroom, one warm, sunny afternoon. Peeping through the keyhole, she is shocked by what she sees. The housemaid pushes her aside and chides her for peeping. But the damage is done. The girl is completely traumatized by what she sees.

After a one night stand, a Canadian businessman (John) falls desperately and inexplicably in love with Asmita. Later, the pervasive influence of the subconscious over rationale behaviour is analysed and presented to the reader by the protagonist herself in psychological terms. An existentialist reader would be disappointed when the story delves into surrealism, with rebirth playing an important role. But when Asmita dreams of her previous life (as Kanthi), she is oblivious to the consequences of this startling surreal experience.

However, what is great about this novel is not the supernatural elements but the will, attitude and honesty of Asmita (self in Sinhalese) when set against the corruption, pretence and brutality she has to deal with from the outside.

The crux of the matter is: Why does Asmita hate herself? Why does such a cultured girl, groomed for an Ivy League education turn, to prostitution? The answers to these questions, which she herself struggles to find, are both internal and external to Asmita; in the latter sense, they are embedded in a mosaic of domestic violence, poverty, alcoholism, political machinations and traditional/religious beliefs that inhibit rational thinking.

The main female characters are heroic and – except for Aunty Amrita (Asmita’s yoga teacher) and Mihiri (Kanthi’s elder daughter) – destined to suffer some form of martyrdom. Asmita, the protagonist, is self-willed and refined:

… Can the life of a hooker have purpose and meaning? Indeed it can, if she has a peg to hang her coat on – not any kind of peg, but a spiritual peg. As contradictory as it may sound, it is possible for someone like me, who is both a skeptic and an atheist, to be spiritual if she has a leaning towards philosophy and incorporates some kind of systematic spiritual and physical training into her lifestyle, such as yoga.

She has a passion for geography and an addiction to sex, as well as discerning tastes in psychology, classical music, and art. She is sarcastic and snappish when provoked. She is also a noble soul, giving money to Theruni (her masseuse) to buy a motor scooter when she learns that Theruni had been obliged to sell hers in order to help her financially strapped brother. She is a victim of corrupt/terror politics and misogyny as well as cruel rejection by a father (Mahesh), who is obsessed by wealth and social status and is quite immune to the emotional needs of a deeply sensitive child.

Asmita and Theruni come from different social classes, but both are victims of misogyny – the main theme of the novel. Kanthi, whose loyalty to her violent and abusive husband, Senerath, is as profound as her love for her two daughters; the dismissed servant (with no name); and Rashmi, Asmita’s emotionally tormented mother: all invoke pity. Senerath is a symbol of corruption and brutality and his repentance at the end is unforgettable.

The innocence of John and Asmita, juxtaposed against the brutality of Senarath and his henchmen, will leave a hallucinatory impression in the reader’s mind. Asmita’s words to John, I love you, are poignant because they come a little too late.

Abeyratne commands the attention of the reader through suspense and visual imagery. The world-weary Rashmi’s decision to renounce her possessions and spend the rest of her life in an ashram recalls Narayan’s protagonists in The English Teacher and The Vendor of Sweets. The usually reticent mother’s sudden urgency and calm decisiveness is dramatic, if not heroic. Asmita’s negative vibes about Senerath’s island lair and how her heart skips a beat when Senerath reveals his true identity are instances of masterful storytelling. When at the end Asmita snubs her father and decides to fight her battles alone, the latter is deeply wounded.

Visual imagery in ASMITA is provocative and haunting. It is seductive from the very first scene where the enchanting hooker and the blue-eyed millionaire sip alcohol to the soft music of a deluxe bar before slipping into bed. The language describing Kanthi’s last moments in the asylum and her younger daughter’s (Sabeetha’s) tragic death create haunting images.

ASMITA is a timely criticism of a cross section of Sri Lankan society. It analyses the forces that inhibit progress and drag us into poverty and violence.

The protagonist, in a stream of reflections, identifies the root causes as the absence of an empowering educational system and the tendency of humans to view violence as the logical means to an end. The power of the subconscious and social neuroses are key terms. Abeyratne is bold in his criticism of religious practice. He points to the pseudo-fatalistic approach to karma, and the preach-only policy that many people adhere to. Aunty Amrita, whose yogic discipline is exemplary, represents the zenith of humanity:

Do not judge a person by his appearance or the size of his house or the brand of his car. Respect those who are kind, sincere, industrious and self-reliant.

The language of ASMITA is very much like the protagonist herself: powerful and sophisticated. Apart from local terms, foreign expressions are sprinkled throughout the novel. The language tries to convey a Sri Lankanness and succeeds to a great extent. However, a sensitive reader would notice a few minor lapses in this regard. For example, children from rural/suburban backgrounds would rarely call their parents ammi/thaaththi, as Sabeetha and Mihiri do. They would normally call them amma/thaaththa. Make no mistake though. Abeyratne’s command of prose is technically brilliant and this is what makes the book unputdownable.

(Lochana Liyanage – lochanaliyanage@yahoo.co.uk – is a teacher with a degree in English, French and Archaeology from the University of Kelaniya.)