‘Humankind, I like to believe, can be divided into two one group swears by science fiction, the other cherishes only mysteries. I belong to the latter.’ Thus begins C. M. Naim’s homage to the writers who once provided generations of Urdu-speaking mystery-lovers hours of sleepless delight. Meticulously researched, this ‘informal history’ unravels how crime fiction first originated in Europe and North America in the nineteenth century, how Urdu writers responded to this new stimulus, and the rapid emergence of what then became the jāsūsī adab in Urdu. Described as ‘wonder-inducing’ and ‘sleep-depriving,’ bearing titles like Khūnī Chhatrī (The Murderous Umbrella), Tilismī Burj (The Magic Turret), and Mistrīz af Dihlī (The Mysteries of Delhi), Urdu thrillers sold in the thousands. Aficionados of the Netflix series Lupin may be surprised to learn that a century ago, Maurice Leblanc’s gentleman thief, Arsène Lupin, was adored by Urdu readers in his desī avatār, Bahram, ‘transcreated’ by Zafar Omar in a 1916 bestseller that made Bahram a household name. We discover Tirath Ram Ferozepuri, the prodigious translator of mysteries and thrillers—114-odd titles, spanning 60,000 pages. We meet Nadeem Sahba’i, of unfettered imagination, who produced masterpieces of Urdu pulp fiction. Urdu crime writers were quick to capture the new material realities of urban India—from the ‘exotic’ mannequins, latex masks and ‘truth-serum’ to the everyday advertisements, gramophones and cameras. Significantly, they also highlighted India’s new ‘secular’ spaces—railway platforms, public parks, libraries, restaurants and cinemas, where people interacted, unburdened by tradition or identity—in ways that other Urdu writers failed to do. Their stories hold a mirror to ‘the idea of India’ before independence. Naim’s book, the first on the subject and illustrated, will delight and inform anyone passionate about crime fiction in any language.
Choudhri Mohammed Naim was an Indian-born American scholar of Urdu language and literature. He was professor emeritus at the University of Chicago. Naim was the founding editor of both Annual of Urdu Studies and Mahfil (now Journal of South Asian Literature), as well as the author of the definitive textbook for Urdu pedagogy in English.
I read about Prof. Naim's interest and dedication to Urdu Research in an article some time ago. I picked up this book on a whim despite having zero exposure to literary analysis. It felt nice venturing into an almost unknown intellectual tradition. I could appreciate the pleasures and challenges of literary analysis as I read through several large passages of the exact text in different versions: an original English version, a French transcreation, an official Urdu transcreation, an uncredited Urdu transcreation, etc. The flip side is that I found some chapters boring and repetitive after a point.
It is heartwarming to see Prof. Naim sift through nostalgia and satiate his curiosity through this work. It is very easy to indulge in snobbery and mock authors of the early 1900s for their lack of sophistication. Prof. Naim instead chooses a more gentle, laid-back approach. He aptly describes the work of all the authors and establishes their place in history. The criticisms are often polite, respectable, and charming. There are no laugh-out-loud moments as such, but there are enough moments of mild shock and mild pleasure in his prose. Judgemental, yes. But the kind of judgment that plays a smile at the corner of your lips in awe.
Prof. Naim also provides several pointers to researchers who are interested in this space ("Why don't you look into the readership of Crime Fiction in India through a gendered lens?", "I finally discovered the work of so-and-so authors. Can you look into how his titillating writings divided readership?"). It is very, very thrilling to see an incredible scholar continuing to expand the horizons of his field through sheer curiosity.
I found the discussion of lineages of Urdu fiction to be particularly useful. The influence of "Dastaans" is felt even today in our film screenplays. I wish more such connections were made throughout the book. I also hoped to get a sense of 1900s mofussil readership beyond crime fiction, but the book rarely ventured out of its scope.
I absolutely love crime fiction so was keen to read this non-fiction work that explored the translations of European crime novels into Urdu (I didn’t even know that Lupin, Holmes etc. were super popular in Urdu a century ago!). While it’s well-researched, well-written and highly commendable for the unusual subject it focuses on, the book is too academic and boring and I struggled to get through it. It could’ve been peppered with more anecdotes to make it more interesting and readable.