Manju Kapur is India's answer to Jane Austen, at least according to many Western critics. The comparison recognises a shared fascination with family life, a sharp awareness of place, a keen ear for dialogue and plots that revolve around romantic relationships. But that, more or less, is where the similarities end.
Where Austen's tart comedies finish with shows of happiness, Kapur's latest melancholy narrative, Custody, concludes by asking tough questions. Whereas Austen's world extends only a few miles, Kapur's globalised vision crosses continents with the turn of a page.
When we meet at her publisher's office in central London, Kapur proves to be a suitably elegant combination of opposites. Her opinions are local and global, critical and artistic, serious and humorous. She exudes the quiet, thoughtful authority that distinguishes her books.
Now and again, however, her fundamental sincerity is broken by lighter undercurrents. For example, when I ask about her writing process: 'If I don't write 1,000 words a day, I'll kill myself. Let's start with that.' Kapur pauses in deadpan fashion, then dissolves into the first of several fits of giggles.
Similarly, Kapur wears a sari and a bindi, but argues the increasing popularity of Western dress has an important role to play in levelling caste divisions in Indian society.
'Image consciousness is now becoming increasingly important. In my college, we teach the whole strata of classes, from deprived backgrounds to privileged ones. At first, you can tell just by looking where they are from. Then they start dressing in Western clothes. For the ones from deprived backgrounds, this is very enabling. It means you have more fluidity.'
