Book on nonsense poet plagued by wordiness

Set in the 19th century, Anindyo Roy’s historical fiction, The Viceroy’s Artist, focuses on the English artist-illustrator known for his nonsense poetry Edward Lear (1812-1888). Lear is a tall, bearded person with a sense of humour, an artist’s skill, and sharp powers of observation — he certainly has an opinion on everything he sees around him. This is a book based on the real man, his memories, art, and sketches, his limericks and diaries. The Book of Nonsense, one of his popular books, is frequently referred to in the novel.

The story begins in 1874 and follows Lear as he explores India. He is accompanied by his faithful manservant Giorgi, who has travelled with him for years. Invited to the country by the Viceroy, he first finds himself in Kurseong, under a pile of blankets, wondering where he is.

It takes him a moment to reorient himself, and that is when Lear remembers where he is — and what he must do. Which is, mostly, to record his encounters and experiences in a diary, and paint.

In Kurseong, he sets out to sketch mountains and is mesmerised by their beauty. It is also then that his mind wanders to his past, and his many, many friends and acquaintances.

During his travels, Lear meets a dizzying array of characters, both English and Indian, although his encounters with the ‘natives’ are severely restricted by his jaundiced worldview. Most of his English acquaintances have also read his work, particularly, The Book of Nonsense, and they all seem to have enjoyed it. This is especially true of the children he meets. Lear is prone to bouts of depression, and he remembers his childhood frequently. His sister Ann was an important figure growing up. He also suffers from seizures, and despite the challenges of touring a country he is not familiar with, Lear’s attitude is one of easy cheerfulness most of the time. His melancholia does interrupt his thoughts frequently, for he has had, despite the many travels and glittering friendships, a challenging life. His manservant Giorgi is staid, level-headed, and utterly loyal, almost to a fault. He understands Lear’s quirks and does his best to keep his master comfortable. The two are good friends after so many years of travelling together.

Thematically, The Viceroy’s Artist has an intriguing premise. Lear’s journeys are written about in much detail, for 19th century India was a place of much interest and confusion for him. He is fascinated by temples and temple carvings and the harmony between people of different faiths. He sees the Indian landscape as a vast canvas of beauty he itches to draw, and he jots down his impressions of several extraordinary characters in colourful prose.

And yet, the book moves slowly, and while the prose is intricate, it does tend to get overwritten and monotonous. Lear’s ruminations are verbose, unnecessarily so. He travels, and yet, most of the time, he seems to spend his time thinking and reflecting. Those musings are overlong and only add to the tedium and take up a fair share of the narrative.

A confusing list of names makes up Lear’s multiple friends and acquaintances, and it is difficult to keep track of them. Characterisation is rather flat in this novel, and conversation tends to be stilted despite the characters’ efforts to be lively. Most of the Indians here are servile and one-dimensional, and most of the English exult in the glory of their Empire…and those factors make up their personalities. They all tend to talk alike. Lear notices differences in clothing between the rulers and the ruled. His observations are limited though to the English wearing suits and gowns and the Indians wearing far less.

With Lear’s melancholia and constant ruminations, it also gets difficult to separate metaphor, dream, and imagination from reality. His diary entries are excessively long, his correspondences even more so. Landscapes, sunrises and sunsets are described in excruciating detail. The sheer wordiness of the book overpowers the lyricism of its prose.

Overall, The Viceroy’s Artist could have offered a fascinating glimpse into Edward Lear’s life. However, as fiction, this novel is a difficult, tedious read. The story takes itself too seriously and feels ponderous. Much of the prose could have been made more succinct. This is a novel that would perhaps have worked better as a work of non-fiction.