I absolutely loved this book! Such a beautiful insight to the Pakistani culture with a western twist! I couldn’t put this down once I started reading it, it was absolutely amazing! Never heard of this author before but will now definitely keep a look out for her books!

An interesting retelling of pride and prejudice. Even though you know what is going to happen to each character it is fun to work out who is who and I liked the twists added.

Soniah Kamal’s Unmarriagemable has a lot to live up to. In an age when we have seen (and continue to see) numerous adaptations of Jane Austen’s much-love classic Pride and Prejudice, two questions come to mind. First, what is the motivation behind re-telling this superb story? And second, what makes this stand apart from the others?
The book transports the Bennet family and life to the Sindh province circa-2001. Elizabeth Bennet is now Alysba or Alys Binat. Her sisters and all other characters have names which have been similarly adapted to the English/Urdu-speaking context that they live in. This works quite well. For example, Charlotte Collins nee Lucas’ transformation into Shireen Kaleen (nee Looclus). However, at times, the names can seem forced such as Fitzwilliam Darcy’s reincarnation as Valentine Darsee.
Unmarriageable is generally faithful to its original inspiration. From Bingla’s (Bingley) two overbearing sisters to Mrs. Binat’s (Bennet) overwhelming anxiety and obsession with arranging her daughters’ marriages, the main story is retold in an engaging manner. The Pakistani setting adds flair and colour to the story and characters rendering it relevant and amusing to an audience familiar with Austen’s take on marriage, love and society in 18th century England. That the story translates so well into Kamal’s chosen setting is a testament to how relatable Pride and Prejudice is across time, space and location.
There are flashes of insight in this retelling which I had not seen in other adaptations. For example, Alys’ realisation and shame that she has been enabling her father’s dismissive and inappropriate behaviour towards his wife exposes a more reflective side to this Lizzie. Similarly, Kamal mentions in the afterword that Charlotte Lucas is her favourite character, and this is apparent throughout. Shireen Looclus is portrayed with more nuance, attention and sympathy leading to a greater impact on Alys’ character development. Her feelings towards Shireen’s marriage are more thought through and the emotional conflict between losing her best friend (and anticipated partner in singledom) and her disbelief that a friend of hers would choose to compromise so much to marry are conveyed with clarity and understanding.
The inclusion of more detail around the Binat’s reduced circumstances, family feud and the story of how Uncle and Aunt Gardenaar met, are welcome additions to the story. They provide a more wholesome picture of the Binats’ circumstances and their attitudes towards religion, family and love. Sometimes the book seemed too ambitious in introducing more material in which detracted from the overall effect. The Binat parents’ meeting, love story and marriage are described in full but the level of adoration and happiness between them doesn’t then match Mr. Binat’s attitude towards his wife. Sure, poverty and the pressure of having 5 daughters to support could explain some of his behaviour but there needed to be more of a journey towards this change expressed in the narrative to make it more convincing. The same can be said of Jena’s (Jane) romantic adventures. As an educated, beautiful woman in her 30s, the level of insecurity and reluctance to communicate with her potential suitor seem disjointed. Perhaps this is because they are overemphasised in the story, but it seems hard to believe that she would be incapable of communicating with Bingla or Bungles to the degree stated.
On a more linguistic note, the book seeks to portray the Pakistani context through the inclusion of Urdu words and phrases throughout. This is commendable but having the English translation in the main body straight after was jarring and detracted from the flow of the text. Whilst it is obvious that the book has been structured in this way to appeal to a non-Urdu speaking audience, the approach taken felt artificial and for some reason just didn’t quite work for me. Being familiar with contemporary novellists like Anuja Chauhan who manage the inclusion of ‘Hinglish’ dialogues extremely effectively perhaps affected my view of this.
Overall Unmarriageable is an enjoyable and diverting read. Providing another spin on an old, and well-loved classic is very ambitious and at times it worked really well. My favourite part has to be the opening chapter wherein Alys has her students analyse and rewrite the infamous opening line of the original: ‘It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.’ The proferred alternatives along with the class discussion between Alys and her students are fun and provide much food for thought.
The final point worth mentioning is that the book does well to bring in contemporary debates around local literature. From Alys’ assertion that students should also read Pakistani works, to Shireen’s translations of Urdu novels into English which leads to their future joint career venture. It is important to raise awareness of these issues. Finally, the way that Alys and Darsee bond over the Pakistani novel Sunlight Over a Broken Column. One thing I have taken away from this book is the desire to engage more with these works. Since reading Unmarriageable I have ordered Sunlight Over a Broken Column and look forward to reading it. Above all, I think Soniah Kamal deserves credit for prompting readers to explore Pakistani literature in more depth.

3.5 stars

Kamal does a fabulous job of using Austen's P&P as a vehicle for feminist commentary on more or less contemporary Pakistani society (the story is set in 2000) and, especially, patriarchal expectations of women and marriage.

There are also interesting postcolonialist points made about Pakistani identity with its English inheritances: as Darsee says, 'we've been forced to seek ourselves in the literature of others for too long'.

But the body of the novel itself is no more than froth and fun - it only stands up because we know this story and these characters - if we didn't, they'd be very thin on the page. The exception is Mrs Binat who is *wonderfully* overpowering and embarrassing though I'd say she's written with more affection than the original Mrs Bennet.

The insight into Pakistani life is colourful and interesting: the wedding ceremonies, the delicious sounding food. I've seen reviews which hated this book because readers have interpreted it as mocking Islamic devotion but I don't see that at all: Kaleen (Mr Collins) and Mari (Mary Bennet) are equally mocked in the original for their obsequious and self-serving religious piety, Christian in their case.

The writing has nothing of Austen's wit, clarity, balance or elegance - this isn't stylish in any sense. It's fun to read but perhaps more could have been done with the legitimately serious points that it makes.