Camels in Kansas: The Alternative History of Farooq Ahmed's Kansastan
Farooq Ahmed’s Kansastan is a lush and poignant portrayal of familial rivalry set against the backdrop of a Civil War-era dystopian Kansas.
Farooq Ahmed’s Kansastan is a lush and poignant portrayal of familial rivalry set against the backdrop of a Civil War-era dystopian Kansas. The story of our anonymous narrator begins when he is a young stowaway in leg braces on a cart piled high with corpses. After his delivery to the mosque where he would spend his formative years, a woman named Maryam (apparently his aunt) arrives with Faisal, the narrator’s cousin, in tow. Faisal is believed to be a prophet, and from the beginning of his arrival at the mosque, the local community is in awe of his feats. (Faisal, at one point, creates a small geyser that people from miles around come to witness.) The narrator, however, finds himself feeling like the village idiot. He’s pushed aside and ridiculed, while Faisal’s “magic” affords him not only preferential treatment but also intense — and dangerous — reverence. From that point the story shifts to what is, in my mind, the overarching theme of the novel: competition. When Faisal and the narrator fall in love with the same woman, the mysteriously named Ms. A_____, their competition only heightens.
The unreliable narrator often dispenses sour thoughts about his cousin, but even before Faisal and Maryam’s arrival, he is plagued with adolescent bitterness that can only come from being continually referred to as variations on a theme of “the ‘malformed urchin.’” As such, he reads like a Civil War-era Muslim Holden Caulfield. Sarcasm and an overinflated sense of injustice constitute the brunt of the narrator’s personality, which makes an even more interesting character juxtaposition with Faisal, whom we recognize as insufferable in a pious sort of way based on the narrator’s point of view. Anyone who has ever been an angst-filled teen can relate to the narrator, and I often found myself chuckling at his internal monologue. At one point, following a festivity at the mosque, the narrator remarks, “And like that, my cousin and I passed into official man-hood. We shook hands and then hugged, though I had to fight the urge to smother him in my embrace. As I have said, I was merciful.”
It’s important to note that Ahmed has chosen to write from an often under-represented perspective in a completely novel way. In regard to a wider conversation about religious fanaticism (present both in this novel and in our society), the narrator’s home is Kansas, which is embroiled in a bitter battle with Missouri (“spit after saying it.”) Early in the novel, during a moment of anger and inspiration, the narrator decides he will be the one to take charge of the crusade against Missouri. He says, “I resolved that I would undertake this labor in a manner befitting a stalwart Fanatic — a hard veteran of Kansas! I was all on fire for it.” Throughout the novel Ahmed expertly provides poignant examples of zealotry from both Kansans and Missourians, reinforcing the idea that fanaticism in any form is, of course, a scourge.
While Muslims, of course, existed in America during the time of the Civil War, we very infrequently hear about their contributions to society in any way. Here, Ahmed has rearranged history so that Muslims are at the forefront. This provides readers with much-needed perspective on the effects of historical alienation. Kansastan is full of references to Islam and the Quran, which was exciting to discover for a person unfamiliar with the religion. The novel itself reads as a sort of mythology, with a deep sense of humanity and humor.
With this novel, Farooq Ahmed has created a vivid world in which the history very nearly mirrors our own — with several unexpected, devastating, and delightful amendments.