The case for mythological fiction
And why you should jump onto the bandwagon
I’ve always liked mythology. It has gifted me courage and wisdom on numerous occasions. Beyond that, tales like the Ramayana and the Mahabharata have held generations together, with characters so strong that they’re etched into the everyday existence of a billion people.
But for all my convictions, renditions of the epics had always seemed aloof. While I admired the values they professed, it was tiring to find realism in two arrows colliding point-to-point with PowerPoint effects. And for all my faith, a floating bridge that could take an army across went into the realms of imagination. More nuanced texts that did greater justice to the storyline were written in vernacular languages and were difficult to comprehend for English-medium kids like me.
Enter the mythological fiction of twenty-first-century India. Authors like Amish Tripathi and Devdutt Pattnaik took center stage as they remastered timeless epics for a modern audience. They brought relevance to aspirational fantasies. The pushpak viman was no longer a giant white swan lifting a gilded platform; but a conical aircraft with rotors and propellers. And Raavan’s riches were not explained through trade treaties and a pirate militia.
While core values and events were rendered faithfully, it was still fiction. Hanuman could no longer fly across the waters; he took boats and ships with his platoon. But the freedom that fiction accords were used responsibly to bring greater complexity to the texts. Vishwamitra was now the formidable Malayaputra chief, commanding a capital and a militia, advancing ideals beyond the fight between Ayodhya and Lanka.
The question is: how much modification is too much? The answer lies not in the substance but in the intent. I’ve read plenty of books on mythological fiction (it’s my favorite fiction genre), and at no point did I find modifications unworthy. Perhaps because the author never displayed an underlying humility and reverence for the texts. I was okay with Amish’s Sita being the scarred warrior-administrator of Mithila because it only seemed to deepen my respect for an already revered icon.
Then there’s good old business. Would you buy a Ramayana in English if I told you it was the same story? Not. And as noble a pursuit as writing is, the author needs to eat. Remarkably, people have found a way to earn a livelihood through faithful renditions of the epics. In a capitalist economy, that only ensures that more people write, read, understand, and appreciate.
Speaking from personal experience, I had only picked my first mythological fiction because I needed a break from calculus. I honestly did not expect much; mythology wasn’t cool yet. However, between the dialogues and battle scenes, I discovered impactful philosophies that were delightfully easy to understand. I’ve since read more than fifteen books from that genre, and I appreciate every single one.
So, while you order one for yourself (and meanwhile read my article on why you should read autobiographies), I’ll go continue Akshat Gupta’s trilogy.
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If you liked this article, check the one on the importance of reading too.
