Shobhaa De
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How De became India’s Lady Kama Sutra
Shobhaa De in Politically Incorrect, Devember 3, 2017: The Times of India
In her new book ‘Seventy…And to hell with it,’ Shobhaa De writes about how she got stereotyped for her “hot bits”, and why the newer bunch of ‘spreadsheet authors’ is much savvier .
I read an article with the headline ‘Men Write Erotica. Women Write Pornography.’ It was written by a woman whose books contain sexually explicit passages. Like a few of mine. I know what it feels like! People are obsessed with the sex lives of women. I still get asked that irritating question, ‘Madam…so much sex-vex in your books, na? Is it about your own experiences, hai na?’ I feel like yelling, ‘Yes, of course! Bilkul, ji! Aren’t I one hell of a lucky bitch?’ I mean, come on! Nobody asked Khushwant Singh that question! Then there are the young girls who come up to whisper, ‘I love your novels, yaar. You write amazing soft porn, ma’am! It’s too good! I was not allowed to read your books when I was in school. My mother used to hide them after wrapping the covers in brown paper. She wouldn’t let me touch them. So mean! Still…I managed somehow. You are too cool, ma’am…all those hot bits!’ Yeah…right…all those ‘hot bits’. Young men sidle up to say (heavy breathing at this point), ‘Madamji, aap toh India ki Lady Kamasutra ho! Can we click a selfie?’ I feel like saying, ‘Gadhey! Aur kuch nahi padha zindagi mein? Just the “hot bits”?’ But I figure, why waste my breath? I also feel like yelling, ‘Yes! Haan, haan! Yeh sab mere hi experiences hai.’ Instead, I shrug. I smile a crooked smile. Next time, I am going to tell these kids to address me as ‘Your Royal Hotness’, just to see the expressions on their faces. Maybe they will squeal, ‘Sooooooo cute, yaar!’ Yup. I get that too. Or they’ll turn away, thinking, ‘What is this woman thinking?’
Then come the ignorant foreigners who react with arched eyebrows and a sideways smile when I am introduced to them as a writer. ‘Oh really? So, dearie, what do you write? Romance? Cookbooks?’ I reply with my straightest face, ‘I write hardcore pornography disguised as cookbooks. Devouring orgasmic food is the ultimate pornographic experience, don’t you agree?’ Some of them get the joke. Others look startled, stare at my ‘native costume’ (saree) and move away swiftly.
Young writers are so much smarter. Seated next to me at a litfest was a hugely successful author—a former banker (how come there are so many bankers-turned-authors suddenly?). This gentleman was my son’s age. We started chatting. He wanted to talk books. Nothing but books. Okay, I said to myself, let’s talk books. I asked about his latest ones. And he shared so many wonderful details about the making of the book—how long it took him to research and design the intricate cover, how each tiny symbol came with a deep philosophical meaning and why he preferred to write a certain kind of book, after consulting his wife who heads his publicity team. At no point did he discuss writing! It was more a marketing presentation and less a conversation about creativity. He was generous enough to share a great deal of relevant sales information with me. He knew most major booksellers by their first names and stayed in daily contact with the top few. He travelled extensively to network with book agents and distributors across India, on whom he lavished gifts and sweetmeats. ‘If you ignore them, they can kill your book by shoving it to the last shelf,’ he confided innocently. He also admitted he bought back thousands of his own books in order to stay on bestseller lists. Why did he need to do all this? He said earnestly, ‘It is very, very important to stay at number one! Writing a book is only a small part of it. Marketing is everything.’ Of course, the ball game has changed. And it is authors like this who have altered the rules. This is the new generation of writers, who first strategize with a smart, savvy team and then write a book.
Somehow, conducting a market survey first, and then deciding on the theme of the next novel, seems a pretty mechanical way of writing to me. But it works! I call them the canny ‘spreadsheet’ authors. First—a business plan. Then the book.
They strut around like they have changed the world through their words and ideas. Nobody laughs at them. Their pompous pronouncements in interviews are taken at face value. They hire stylists and PR outfits to project them in the right light. They brag and hustle non-stop. Suck up to lit fest organizers. Brazenly manipulate each and every aspect of the publishing world. Nobody laughs.
My fate was sealed the day I agreed to pose for a glamour photo spread, lounging on a tiger skin for Time magazine. And it was that profile which created the nauseating ‘Jackie Collins of India’ nonsense. (Damn you, Anthony Spaeth!) Why did I go along? Sheer stupidity! I was flattered. I fell for the spiel. Even on that tiger skin, dressed in an antique rani-pink lehenga—I was laughing at the absurdity of what I was willingly participating in. But, unfortunately, the joke was on me.
Once stuck with that ridiculous image, I was branded for evermore. With each subsequent book and the ensuing publicity blitz, the stereotyping got further entrenched. I had asked for it! Nobody complained…least of all, my publishers.
Edited excerpts from ‘Seventy…And to hell with it’ with permission from Penguin Random House India
