“In the beginning there were three friends,” Salman Rushdie writes in his new book, “The Enchantress of Florence,” and their names were Niccolo Machiavelli, Ago Vespucci, cousin of Amerigo, and Antonino Argalia, who became known as the Turk.

Their story, about one who stayed in Florence, two who traveled, and then the stay-at-home goes to find a new world, while the travelers come home to die, becomes the centerpiece of the novel. The bookends, so to speak, are the stories of another traveler to a far-off land, to the kingdom of Akbar the Great, the Mogul emperor who conquered India and later built the Red Fort at Old Delhi and the Taj Mahal in the memory of a woman.

Akbar in Rushdie’s novel creates not a monument but a woman of his imagination, a Shadow, a queen of his mind, who becomes real to him and his subjects in the city of Sikri. Into the city of Akbar then comes another traveler, our hero, or one of our heroes, who has a story to tell the emperor, the story of Qara Koz, Lady Black Eyes.    

The traveler, one Niccolo Vespucci, has come to the court of Akbar in a multicolored coat of multitudinous pockets. He seems to be a Florentine; he has many talents, being polyglot and a prestidigitator; and his story has many layers.    

We should always keep in mind, when reading a novel by Salman Rushdie, that we are in the land of magical realism, first identified with the novels of Garcia Marquez, but here the sources are more ancient. We are in the lands of Scheherazade and the 1,001 Nights where heroes slay thousands, or at least hundreds, and women have power over men through their beauty.    The three friends have already experienced the power of beauty with the brief existence of Simonetta Vespucci, Botticelli’s Venus and Primavera. All of Florence turned out when Simonetta died at 24. All loved her, even other women who might have envied her for her purity and loveliness.    

Qara Koz, Lady Black Eyes, has the same effect on men, first as a baby protected by her brother, Babar, who conquered and then lost Samarkand and was forced into Hindustan, leaving Qara Koz behind as a hostage. Accompanied only by her slave girl, the Mirror, who is a direct reflection of Qara Koz, Lady Black Eyes grows up and is captured by the Shah Ismail of Persia who is captured in turn by her beauty.    

In the end, or in this novel, at the beginning of a new story, Shah Ismail is defeated by the Ottoman Janissaries led by Argalia the Turk in the battle of Chalidran, north of Lake Van. Qara Koz gains a new protector, Antonino Argalia, who returns to his home and death in Florence, where Qara Koz becomes the enchantress of Florence, enchanting all with her beauty as Simonetta did before.    

We have circles with circles, a Hindustani ivory puzzle, and at the center is Akbar listening to the story of Lady Black Eyes, told by Niccolo Vespucci.    Within this maze of stories Rushdie is sly with questions about God and gods. Hindustan has many gods with many names, Islam one god with one name, and Florence one god with three names. Akbar wants to know which is true. It all depends on whom he asks.    

Rushdie is also linking and comparing the East and West, turning western tradition upside down as Akbar considers his palace with its phantoms as normal and ordinary and the guns and the burning of Savonarola as magical and mysterious. It all depends on one’s perception.    

There are also many digressions, such as when Botticelli falls in love with Simonetta. We learn about the potency and effect of mandrake roots. Rushdie also stops for a moment to tell us what ointments can prepare the way of the traveler into the hidden court of Akbar.    

Rushdie can call up odors to mind in words and make the reader conjure phantoms where none exist. He is a wordsmith, making the exotic normal, and turning Florence into phantasmagoria.    

He is also making political statements. Florence goes mad with joy when a Medici becomes Pope Leo X. Akbar must decide if he should kill his wastrel son who has revolted. Argalia the Turk gives Machiavelli several pronouncements that turn up later in “The Prince.”    

Amidst it all our hero has a story to tell the emperor. Rushdie has wrapped us up completely within it. The inner story is where we hear about the character in the title. The Enchantress is the most beautiful woman in the world, the most beautiful woman anyone has ever seen or ever will see. Her mere presence causes otherwise stoic men to fall to their knees and either pray for her or pray for themselves (even the men themselves aren’t clear which it is).

And so forth. The story of Qara Koz is intricate, and Rushdie is having fun. There are court intrigues and epic battles. We learn what connection there is between Qara Koz and Niccolo, the storyteller, and Akbar is satisfied. This is a throwback to an earlier kind of storytelling, and Rushdie does it well.

Ralph Mohr taught English and Latin at Marshfield High School for 31 years. He welcomes comments regarding the column at rmohr1565@charter.net.