Kavita Daswani

Entering her mid-thirties, Anju has proven to be a failure as a daughter. Sure, she's well-educated. Sure, she has a successful career as a fashion publicist. Sure, she has remained a "good girl" despite living by herself in that den of iniquity known as New York City. But she's failed to do the one thing that would define her worth and ease the anxiety she's causing her ultra-conservative, ultra-orthodox parents: she still hasn't married.

And it's not Anju's fault. She's fasted, she's show more prayed, she's presented herself as meek and submissive. She's allowed her mother to drag her to every swami, fortune teller, and holy man she can find. She's had her birth chart read, her destiny foretold. She's tried to lighten her too-dark complexion. She's attended parties and reunions and the weddings of others, in the hopes of making a match--all to no avail. She's even tried online matchmaking for Indian couples only. What will it take for Anju to meet the man that others assure her has been born for her and, in the meantime, how can she balance her traditional Indian life with her increasingly independent American one?

Other reviews have listed two primary problems with this book: the lack of a clearly defined personality in the protagonist, Anju, and the perception of the novel as a piece of fluff with little to say. And, yes, this certainly isn't the type of novel that is going to deeply move you or offer profound insight into Indian culture. It also has an ending that is predictable and wrapped up a little too quickly and neatly. However, the aforementioned criticisms are a little harsh.

First, the issue of Anju's personality, which to me is not a misstep on the part of the author, although it could seem that way to an American audience who would prefer a headstrong and fiercely independent protagonist eager to break the shackles enslaving her to a patriarchal society. But Anju is not American. While she has been raised in a family that loves her, she has also been raised to believe that who she is will always be defined by the man who protects her: first her father and later her husband. She has not been encouraged to become a fully realized person and therefore is waiting for her other half, who will define her existence by setting the boundaries of what her life will be. It should not be surprising that this protagonist hesitates to break with her religion and her heritage, despite sensing something is amiss with the expectations placed upon her. That she is uncertain, cautious, and hesitant makes her seem more real.

Second is the classification of the novel as mindless chick lit. Okay, I can't defend the chick lit part. And there are moments in the narrative when I became a little impatient with Anju's focus on designer shoes and the world of high fashion. But it could be argued that not accustomed to having a voice (or at least not confident enough to always use it), Anju is using fashion to communicate her values and her inner life to others. At home in Bombay, Anju tries to look the part of the fashionable and worldly expatriate, eager to show that she has become more independent, less constrained by social mores. Yet, while attending fashion shows in the U.S. and Europe, she opts out of the haute couture chic for traditional saris, demonstrating to Westerners her pride in herself as an Indian woman. Anju uses fashion in an attempt to attain balance and define herself: she does not want to lose that intrinsically Indian part of herself in America, but she does not want her desires and dreams to be subjugated to the search for a husband in her homeland.

And the novel, while perhaps simplistic in its presentation, is not mindless. Anju knows she is not just a disappointment because of her inability to marry; she knows it goes back to the day she was born: "And then I slid out, with a minuscule slit instead of the wormlike appendage [my mother] had been looking forward to seeing. Oh, God, she had delivered a daughter as a first-born. The unthinkable had happened" (102). Despite being a disappointment, Anju is not unloved and does not want to alienate her family by cutting all ties with her heritage and her customs. Her loneliness and alienation is real and will only worsen if she marries a white man, effectively becoming estranged from her family, or if she marries an Indian man whom she cannot love nor respect. And it's very easy for Americans (as just about every American character in the book does) to think that a family that would expect you to enter into an arranged marriage or to define yourself by who you marry doesn't really love you. But that's a bit hypocritical, no?

For all of our supposed independence, isn't our culture just as marriage happy, just as eager to be one half of a whole? Think we're not as guilty? Say Yes to the Dress, The Bachelor, at least a dozen Disney princess movies, and a wedding industry that sells fairy tales for a price that could put your first born through college suggest otherwise. I knew and know plenty of women who can't wait to get married because that's what they're supposed to do. They believe that's when they'll become who they were always meant to be--wives and mothers. The "arranged" bit isn't necessarily there, but a woman in her twenties is perpetually asked questions about her relationship status: Seeing anyone serious?

And this connection is what Daswani makes work for her in For Matrimonial Purposes. By presenting us with a protagonist with one foot in New York and the other in Bombay, we may see a bit more of ourselves in Anju's experience than we're comfortable with. All of the American superiority begins to deflate as we begin to realize much of Anju's plight may also be our own.

Cross posted at This Insignificant Cinder show less

REVIEW ORIGINALLY POSTED http://hobbitsies.net/wordpress/2012/01/lovetorn-by-kavita-daswani/

Okay, Lovetorn by Kavita Daswani was basically amazing. I’m a huge fan of Indian culture and contemporary, and reading Lovetorn basically combined this love.

Lovetorn is an eye-opening look at Indian culture, as well as bullying, depression, and the way people are able (or not able as the case may be) to cope with drastic changes in their lives, such as moving from India to California.

I loved Shalini show more as a protagonist. I’ve never been bullied like she has and Kavita Daswani’s writing really helped me to feel everything she was going through, with the school bullies and the confusion of a first crush. And everything with her mother just broke my heart. Even though her mother drove me crazy and I wanted to slap her at times.

The storyline allowed for amazing character growth and self discovery.

Lovetorn is a stunning and original contemporary. I teared up and laughed and experienced things along with all of the characters, not just Shalini. If you’re a fan of contemporaries and learning about different cultures, I definitely recommend picking up Lovetorn. show less

AN ENTERTAINING, WITTY NOVEL ABOUT A YOUNG WOMAN’S STRUGGLE TO BALANCE HER INDIAN HERITAGE WITH HER CAREER AMBITIONS IN GLAMOROUS LOS ANGELES.

I became interested in reading Lovetorn by Kavita Daswani because of the multicultural aspect. I love reading about other cultures and I think it's important to have more YA books on the market that incorporate diverse characters. For that reason, I was super excited to read Lovetorn. Unfortunately, I wasn't completely satisfied with it. It has some great aspects, but overall, I wanted a little more.

I'll discuss the good points first. The multicultural aspect was very well done. I have show more basic knowledge of some Indian customs and culture, but this book provided a lot more information without sounding like a tutorial. I thought the storyline itself was an interesting idea. An Indian teenage girl who is already engaged moves to America and begins to wonder about her future and her options. This seems natural and plays out organically. Her relationships with friends, family, and loved ones change at a reasonable pace.

I also appreciated how Daswani describes the reactions to the move of all family members. Each member has a different experience transitioning, and I think they are all reasonable given the circumstances and ages of each person. They all go through a journey which impacts each other. Unlike some other YA novels, each family member is important to the plot and overall story. No Disappearing Parent Syndrome here.

Clearly, there's lots of good stuff in this novel. Unfortunately, there were also aspects I didn't like. First, I thought some of the relationships between the smaller characters developed unrealistically. While changes in the family members were gradual and organic, the friendships, social enemies, and crush relationships did not develop at a natural pace (in my opinion). This might sound strange, but the characters turned out too nice. Even the mean girls, who were really mean, came out sounding too nice by the end. The crush was the most realistic in my view.

Second, I didn't know who to root for. Maybe it's just me, but when there's going to be some kind of love triangle, I like to know who I should be rooting for and the reasons why. I had a sense that maybe I should root for the new guy because he's a new guy, but I really liked what I'd read about Vikram. Part of me really wanted her to stay with him, even though I wasn't sure how that would turn out. This is purely personal preference, so it may not bother other readers.

Third, and this is really, really nitpicky, there was misinformation about the psychologist. Psychologists can't prescribe medications. Psychiatrists can. This very small distinction bothers me purely because it's a common misconception and I'm in the field of psychology. By all means, this did not ruin the book for me, but it is irritating when the facts aren't right.

So, overall, Lovetorn was an enjoyable read. I just wish I'd gotten a little more from the novel. It's definitely worth the read, especially if you're interested in reading about other cultures.

>b?Final thoughts: Borrow. show less