Bollywood Nights - or "The original Bollywood novel" as the cover would have us believe - is a difficult book to review. On the one hand, I'd like to say it's absolute tripe, but on the other, I read the whole thing and usually if a book's bad I can't finish it.
Written in 1992, Bollywood Nights is basically Jackie Collins does Bollywood. But Jackie Collins is a better writer than Shobhaa De. I can't see any reference to a translator anywhere, so I assume it was written in English and that might explain some, but not all, of the problems I had with this book.
Anyway, it's basically the story of Indian film star Aasha Rani (for some reason, her name is spelled "Asha" on the back cover). Aasha Rani's mother decided that turning her daughter into a film star was the best way out of the hovel they'd found themselves in following the breakdown of her relationship with a wealthy (and married) studio owner. Prostituting her young daughter out to all and sundry, she was quickly successful and Aasha Rani became "Sweetheart of Millions".
Aasha Rani's morals aren't much better than her mother's and the book features a series of sexual adventures, which are treated pretty much the same whether they're with Aasha Rani's husband, a stranger on a plane or another woman. If in doubt, Aasha Rani's motto seems to be, find someone to have sex with. When she's not having sex she's running away - to New Zealand, to Madras, to London - and being betrayed by everyone in her life.
The thing is, while it's true that Aasha Rani was exploited by her mother at a young age, she then refuses to take responsibility for her life and behaves appallingly throughout the novel. But not in a powerful anti-heroine way, just in an irritating way that makes you want her to cop on to herself and get a grip.
The action becomes more and more far-fetched and ridiculous and I cared less and less about Aasha Rani and her family (and I didn't care much to begin with). At the end I didn't feel like she'd learned or achieved anything.
It's all rather vague and unformed and I never really believed or accepted anyone's - least of all Aasha Rani's - motivations for anything.
I can only assume this book has been reissued purely to take advantage of the young British Asian population and not because it's actually worth reading. Very disappointing.
Rating: 2/5
Like this? Try The Washingtonienne by Jessica Cutler
