‘Mansur’: A novel about beauty that is as rich and tender as precious silk

Think of a silk so delicate that it could be damaged by one rough touch. What if, instead of this fine fabric, its threads were spun into a novella? I imagine it would be one like Mansur, which takes place in the royal atelier in Agra over the course of a single day, as the sun shines radiantly in this early 17th-century courtyard. Busy with painters, students, library officials, accountants and buzzing with activity, it is the Saturday before the official invitees leave for the Mughal royal family’s annual summer retreat to Verinag in Kashmir.

Nur Jahan, the empress of the Mughal empire, has commissioned a present for the emperor that must remain secret: a book of intimate verses that the two recite to each other, every verse accompanied by an illustration of the different butterflies in the Mughal gardens. It should be seen by nobody but the emperor and the illustrator, and if it falls into the wrong hands, royal wrath will be incurred. She has tasked Mansur with the responsibility to see that it is ready in time and travels with him to the summer retreat, so that it can reach her without mishap. Chronicled Rarity of the Present – Nadir al-Asr –...

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