LOOT

An expert Indian woodworker gets a front-row seat to 18th- and 19th-century imperialism.

Abbas, the hero of James’ lively and symbolically rich third novel, is a poor 17-year-old artisan in Mysore in 1794 when he’s recruited by Tipu Sultan, the local ruler, to apprentice with Lucien Du Leze, a French clockmaker. Together they are charged with making an automaton of a tiger attacking a British soldier. The experience hones his carving skills, but just as importantly it introduces him to an intercontinental power play: Tipu, aka the Tiger of Mysore, is attempting to fend off an incursion by the British East India Company by appealing for French support by any means necessary, including the automaton. But with France roiled in the aftermath of its own revolution, Mysore falls in 1799, prompting Abbas to escape to France, where he connects with Lucien’s daughter, Jehanne. Together, they plot to recover the automaton, which is in the hands of Lady Selwyn, widow of a British soldier who served in India. From Abbas’ first meeting with Lucien to his and Jehanne’s negotiations with Selwyn, James trains her descriptions on the ways Indians are displaced and diminished by imperialists and the ways they have to contort themselves to adjust to society. (Selwyn’s high-mannered butler, an Indian man named Rum, exemplifies the psychic costs of force-feeding oneself another culture’s protocols.) But though the intensity of James’ critique is clear, her prose is fleet and rich in ironic humor. “I am here because you were there,” Rum thinks, encapsulating the perverse logic and cruelty of his circumstance. The automaton of the novel actually exists, James explains in a note; her novel, as the title hints, is an engaging reminder that today’s museum pieces are often functions of forgotten exploitation and theft.

A smart, sharp tale, as well crafted as the object at its center.