How a fundamentalist is born... Review on Black Album, The - Hanif Kureishi

Westward bound? Pause a minute to read a copy of Hanif Kureishi’s The Black Album. The tale of a 'paki' facing an identity crises in England could easily apply to any of us from the subcontinent. The story centres around a young Pakisthani lad born and brought up in Kent, in England. When we meet Shahid, he's just got into university - a small college in London. As the story moves along, we are told that his dad, now dead, ran a travel business. His brother, Chilli, is a a colourful Brit Asian, who has no existential dilemmas to deal with. Flashy sporty, he's into big brands and an expensive lifestyle. Shahid is quieter, introspective - he read Shelley to a girl at a date - but not averse to having a good time. Obviously he doesn't come from a disadvantaged corner-shop-owning kind of background.

The story begins surrealistically with Shahid being spirited away for a meal by his two housemates, where he is slowly introduced in to the world of Muslim fundamentalism. Riaz, a cool, rational character of mythic proportions, delves deep into Shahid's psyche to root out his feelings of not belonging, of loneliness. Riaz is the frighteningly intelligent face of terror, well-educated, charismatic, media savvy and irreproachable in his dealings with people. His understudy, the huge Chad aka Trevor, a Pakistani adopted by whites, is its unquestioning, blindly fanatic side. The master and his minion. Or the brain and the brawn.

Shahid is torn between the sense of belonging that being with Riaz and his friends gives him, and the world at large. In his case, the 'world at large' revolves around his sexy, sensitive radical English professor, Deedee Osgood, who of course, is white! She sweeps him into a world of books and booze, ecstasy-popping and partying. Inspite of her own derelict lifestyle, she becomes the voice of dissent in Shahid's life.

Shahid's conflicts come to a head as the story progresses. It's 1989 and Rushdie's book, The Satanic Verses has just been banned. This becomes something of a cause celebre for Riaz. Deedee on the other hand, hates censorship, especially of the religious kind. Shahid's subsequent actions unleash a wave of violence.

The Black Album is racy and absorbing, though quite graphic and even sordid at times. The seamy side of life is sometimes too much in evidence. Whites, blacks or Asians, we see them sink to depths as low as can be. But for all that, this novel is highly sensitive. To the condition of a marginalized populace - all the stories that Riaz and his mates have to say are horrific - to the shiftless life of lower middle class whites.

Kureishi, a Brit Asian of Pakistani origin writes unadorned prose. Characterization is brilliant. Be it the chilling Riaz, the flamboyant Chilli or the drug dealer, Trapper.

Flipping to the front, I noticed that the copyright says 1995. I can only think, Hanif Kureishi must be psychic.