Reviews

ENGLISH

A Hermit in the Himalayas.–By Paul Brunton (B. G. Paul and Co., Madras. Price, Rs. 3-8-0).

Mr. Paul Brunton came to India on a religious quest, and in the course of his stay became a disciple of the Sage of Tiruvannamalai. His spiritual hunger led him to the Himalayas, urged thereto by the injunctions laid on him by the Maharishi. The latter bade Mr. Paul Brunton to go, "not as an explorer nor as researcher," but to cease his external activities and tranquillise his mind "to the point of utter placidity." Mount Kailas, on the Tibetan side, is an ideal spot where one could merge one’s spirit in the absolute silence of the surroundings and let all thought lapse into nothingness. But no White man can enter this place; and all efforts to persuade the Tibetan authorities to make an exception in the case of Mr. Paul Brunton ended in failure. Finally, a special permit was obtained to stay in Tehri-Garhwal, an Indian State in the Himalayas, governed by a Maharaja, but under British control. This secluded kingdom provided a fit spot for meditation, set amidst splendid scenery.

From this abode, and Pratapnagar, to which place he subsequently went, Mr. Paul Brunton gives his reflections on numerous subjects. He meditates on British rule in India, as a result whereof he is able to possess "prophetic anticipations of what is going to happen in India." He however refuses to disclose them on the very inconclusive ground that "it is not always tactful to tell the truth." A good portion of a chapter is devoted to Charlie Chaplin, while yet another expounds the delights of tea-drinking in terms of real eloquence. Themes relating to yoga, religion, science, astrology, the starry system, are dealt with, in a piquant, original manner. Again and again, the forest-clothed ranges and snow-clad heights of the Himalayas are brought before our mind’s eye with loving intimacy of detail.

"A Hermit in the Himalayas" is a book of absorbing interest, but it must be confessed that its author is hardly a safe guide to the path of spiritual illumination. His sincerity is undoubted; and when he states that he is an emissary of the four Great Beings who are said to have been sent from Sirius to guide the evolution of our planet, it is needless to question his credentials. But he is too dogmatic–for a person who walks the path of the occult, too derisive of many of those who seek to kindle their rushlights at the lamp of the spirit. Perhaps, a longer probation under his illustrious Master, the Maharishi, will produce in Mr. Paul Brunton a more reverential, tolerant attitude. But, however this may be, most persons will agree with him in his statement that "the truth-seeking aspirant must cut loose from the conventional dogmas of religion and philosophy and walk with eyes open, thinking out each further step for himself, finding his own way into the truth-world which abides within himself."

The Modern Indian Peasant.–ByProf. N. G. Ranga, M.L.A. (A collection of addresses, speeches, and writings. Madras Kisan Publications. Price, Indian Re. 1, Foreign 2 sh. 6 d.)

Prof. N. G. Ranga is an accredited leader of the peasant movement in India. He has put forward his standpoint in clear, unequivocal language. Honest differences of opinion exist regarding the validity of his remedies and solutions; and doubts have been expressed if a socialistic experiment can achieve anything more than the conversion of our peasants into a proletariat. Be this as it may, it is undoubted that the cause of the Kisans has found in Prof. Ranga an earnest, well-informed champion. This collection of his speeches and writings is a welcome, useful publication, in that it gives an accurate picture of the economic position of the bulk of our population, and contains a detailed exposition of the way out of this morass of destitution, as envisaged by an ardent socialist.

The book is well printed and got-up. There are some spelling mistakes, which I trust will be rectified in the next edition.

N. S. SRINIVASAN

TELUGU

Life of J. N. Tata; Life of Jawaharlal Nehru.–By K. Satakopachari, M. A., B. L., Cocanada. (Price Re.1 each).

Socio-political biographies in the Telugu language are scarce, and when they do appear they merit attention. Their treatment is, to some extent, set for them by the cultural level of their readers. For this reason they tend largely to be factual; critical biography must come hereafter. The same inchoate intellectual state necessitates an elaborate sketching of the ground of biography. Ground has to be broken and in the breaking much obvious material laid bare.

Even so, the vernacular biographer needs to come well-equipped to his task. He must remember he is telling a story, but an extraordinary human story, sometimes, perhaps, to an unfamiliar audience. The first essential is that the subject shall live in his most predominating outlines; the subject, that is to say, must evolve out of the biographical material and create an abiding human impression. No moral need be drawn; it is not even necessary to hold the subject up as an exemplar. What is imperative is that his life shall be registered vividly and truly, at once furnishing an interpretation and a commentary on the human career.

Tata and Nehru are splendid subjects for biography. Both men have influenced their generation more than any other. The advent of Jamsetji opened up a new chapter in the industrial history of this country, and the emergence of Jawaharlal has marked a turning-point in our political destiny, the possibilities of which are still shaping before our eyes.

How is the biographer to start on such excellent material? Clearly, by striking a dominating note of the life-purpose of the subject, by developing the human personality, by utilising every incident and detail to illustrate and to interpret. I am not referring to the orthodox biography born of painstaking research and critical intuition. I write of the biography of impression which the books under review are.

A common pitfall of biographical treatment is to be engrossed by the standard biography, to reproduce and summarise, which are a banal temptation. The result is a stunted and anaemic reproduction, which vainly strives to outgrow the pernicious confines of the original. It is a pitiful predicament.

For, biography is a subtle art and demands for its perfection manifold accomplishments. It demands a psychology of life, an aesthetic, a critical acumen, and a powerful selective faculty.

The best way for the biographer is to master the material, to create for himself a subjective estimate of the personality and to give an artistic revelation of it. I am not against the chronicle as such, if it is lifted from the plane of the commonplace.

So considered, I will not say that the books are achievements. They are tolerable experiments. I feel that the author should have brought to his work more knowledge, more understanding. It is as difficult to write a good life as to live one, says Strachey. The biographer ought to project himself into the personality of his subject and give an introspective delineation. Facts, as such, are not interesting. I do not much care to be told that Tata started mills, endowed scholarships and manufactured iron. I want to know something more, the human value of the man that was Tata. He must be related to the present, here and now. The past is not dead, it is intensely alive, it is the heritage of the present. Tata as he lived and worked has an immense significance for the unconscious lives he will continue to influence. I wish to know all that.

My point is that the author should forsake the beaten track of the biographical chronicle. If a biography is anything, it is arresting, provoking. I ask to be provoked. Sometimes I do not even feel tickled by the books. Because the recapitulation of trade-in-stock detail palls; the lasting, invigorating impression is not there. But this is being hypercritical.

P. R. RAMACHANDRA RAO

KANNADA

Nelalu-Belaku–(Shade-Light) By ‘V. C.’ (The Bangalore Press, Bangalore City.–Price Re. 1.)

Mr. ‘V. C.’ is a sincere worshipper of beauty, both in life and literature. In the get-up of the volume now under review and in its contents, he seems to approach the ideal of William Morris and Ruskin. As if to give a pictorial interpretation to the title of the book, the front and covers have two beautiful silhouettes. The former is a lovely landscape with a snow-crowned hill in the distance, and two well-grown, profusely branching trees in the foreground, from between which the perspective is taken. The whole picture is suggestive of Shade. The of the cover is suggestive of Light and is a silhoeutte of two fawns–one with an uplifted neck and the other with head turned ward, both standing under luxuriant trees. Similarly, the title-page inside has its border inked deep on the left, while the right side is light. As one handles the volume, it emanates something delicately aesthetic.

The contents comprise a bunch of thirty lyrical pieces, two of which are translations. There is a lucid Introduction which seeks to prepare the reader as to the method of proper approach to lyrical poetry, and a mild apology for cutting away from the orthodox prosody. The poems reflect various rainbow colours, and shade and light. Some of them have a majestic flow, some move on emanating pleasing sounds, and some others glide with a rhythmic sloth. The poet seems to be a pictorial artist also, though possibly he has never tried his hand on the brush or the crayon. But ‘V. C.’ paints his pictures through the medium of words set to prosody and music. While some of these verse pictures please you, others set you thinking about forgotten empires and transport you to a reminiscent mood. Sometimes the poem commences with a concise narration of the life of some mythological figure and drifts on to quasi-philosophical generalisations. As we read the ‘Lal Bagh’ we are with the poet in the garden, while a reading of ‘Sankaranthi’ (a South Indian festival synchronising with one of the equinoxes) brings many a happy picture of your childhood. ‘Sabari’ is a fine poetic picture showing the anxiety of the unsophisticated hostess awaiting Sri Rama, the divine guest. Each piece thus reflects a different shade, and the whole is a rich artistic repast. Mr. ‘V. C.’ has sung his Geethagalu and shed his light, and now has reflected some light and shade.–What next?

A.N.V.