The Empire in a garden

Nature’s government: science, imperial britain, and the ‘improvement’ of the world (Orient Longman, Rs 450) by Richard Drayton is an Indian reprint, with an introduction by Mahesh Rangarajan, of a wide-ranging work of historical scholarship, first published in 2000. Drayton’s book is an attempt to make sense of the origins of the modern world by exploring the interactions of science (in this case botany and horticulture) and imperial expansion. He weaves together the histories of the knowledge and use of plants, and of Britain and its empire. The protagonist of this interlaced narrative is the Royal Botanical Gardens at Kew, and Drayton’s account pursues its origins and achievements. At Kew, throughout the 19th century, “improving” the world became a potent argument for both the patronage of science at home and Britain’s prerogatives abroad. This is a history of this idea of “improvement”, from its Christian agrarian origins in the 16th century to its inclusion in the theories of enlightened despotism.

My body, my wisdom: a handbook of creative dance therapy (Penguin, Rs 250) by Tripura Kashyap is dedicated “to all those who desire to seek self-renewal through dance and movement”. It is a quiet, important book, which will initially alienate conventional thinkers on therapy and education for people with special needs. But Kashyap’s combination of Indian classical dance, yoga, the martial arts and Western movement therapy, in this lucidly written, sensible and innovative book, deserves to be taken seriously.

Forest of pygmies (HarperCollins, Rs 295) by Isabel Allende is the final instalment of Allende’s trilogy, written for young readers, about the journeys of Jaguar and Eagle, the totemic animal spirits, who guide Alexander Cold and Nadia Santos, this time through the swampy forests of Ngoube in Africa, where they discover a clan of Pygmies caught up in a world of corruption, slavery and poaching. Humans and spirits then jointly restore their freedom and return leadership to its rightful hands. Allende’s exoticization of Africa is unabashed, her politics always good-natured and well-intentioned, her Magic Realism unfailingly pretty. The result is a Chilean/African “fusion” book, which could well have come free with The Body Shop’s Avocado and Cocoa Butter Shampoo.