Books and Authors

Was it not Plato who said that an uncriticised life is not worth living, or words to that effect?

Without an honest exercise in criticism, especially self-criticism, doctrine could turn into dogma, religion could deteriorate into ritual and fanaticism will leave no room for philosophy, free discussion and the rest.

Religions are broadly divided into the ‘revealed’ and the ‘evolved.’ They could also be classified into the ‘historical’ and the ‘philosophical’, though there may be areas that overlap.

Christianity, Islam and the like are ‘revealed’ religions, depending on a book that reveals the truth and a messiah or a prophet, who is the instrument, if not the source, of that revelation. They can also be described as ‘historical’ religions, in the sense that their whole development centres on the birth, life and death of a historical personage–Jesus Christ, Prophet Mohammed, etc., and probably Gautama the Buddha and the others.

Hinduism is not exactly a ‘revealed’ religion in the same sense, though there might be revelations in the Rigvedaas well as the Bhagavadgita. It is an ‘evolved’ more than a ‘revealed’ religion and can be described as a ‘philosophical’ rather than a ‘historical’ religion, though no one can deny the historical factors in its gradual development through the ages. But the temporal here is less decisive than the metaphysical.

That Hinduism has survived so many cataclysms through the millennia may be a tribute to its resilience and flexibility. That it is rudely shaken, from time to time, by the challenges of sturdy proselytising faiths with a monotheistic outlook and a monolithic structure, could be an index of its specific inadequacy. That it has not been too well served in its priestcraft and in its social structure is easily admitted by those who have no vested interest in either of them.

To say that some of the traditional Gurus and Mutt heads of the Hindu religious establishment are very learned, virtuous or abstemious is not exactly the same as to prove their philosophic dynamism, their social awareness or their contemporary sensibility. Until recently, most of them, not excluding the best, had, undoubtedly, preoccupied themselves with questions of tonsorial acceptability and sartorial propriety, ceremonial purification and details of other daily ritual rather than with questions of philosophic doubt. Not surprising therefore that the problem of untouchability, clearly a logical corollary, no less than a historical by-product of the caste system, haunts them now like King Charles’s head or may be the ghost of King Hamlet.

“The three important aspects of caste, namely restriction of occupation, prohibition of inter-caste eating and marriage have all found their grave in the changed pattern of life induced by an industrial and technological civilization”, observes Dr. Saraswati Chennakesavan, in her recent publication, a thoughtful book titled “A Critical Study of Hinduism.”

Critical indeed it is, with no inhibitions, in its refreshingly new approach (if there can be a new approach at all, for, according to the orthodox Hindus, there can be nothing new, as their ancestors not only knew but foresaw everything) to Hinduism today–its practices no less than its principles. She is, no doubt, well aware of the ideas of bold and inspired teachers like Vivekananda and resourceful and imaginative interpreters like Radhakrishnan. These have only led her to the view that “Beliefs which are irrational and practices which are repugnant have to be transformed into more rational and less repugnant things.”

In the concluding chapter of her lucidly exposed and vigoroudy argued book, the author, who has gone to the source material in Sanskrit, deplores the present situation in which this language is unknown to most and the relevant, crucial texts become meaningless and mysterious. “That Hinduism is one of the noblest of religions, giving to man a non-sectarian humanistic ideal to work out, is lost in the trappings of Mumbo-jumbo practised by the priests”, says the author, obviously more in sorrow than in anger, adding: “Till this situation is remedied, and all the “Mantras” are given in the common man’s language for him to understand and practise, Hinduism will have to remain a closed book.”

Translation, certainly yes; in the interest of clarity and basic understanding at the popular level. But there is a case for the simplification and propagation of the Sanskrit language itself, if its richness in vocabulary, resounding euphony, and incantatory effect are not to be lost on the Indian listeners. There is need for going to the original sources and imbibing the quintessence of the basic texts, to grasp the true meaning of tradition and separate the living tradition from the dead. The author gives a high place to Mahatma Gandhi, commending his example and teaching as those of an ideal Hindu. By no means a textual scholar, he chose to give his own meaning to the principles of Hinduism when he equated Truth (Satyam) with God.

Adi Sankara (who is more idolised than understood by the orthodox believers) was himself a matchless interpreter. He has many worthy successors in the Mutts established by him, but none comparable to him in dialectical skill or poetic sensibility. His Holiness Sri Chandrasekharendra Saraswati, the senior pontiff of the Kanchi Kamakoti Peetham, is highly respected for his erudition and simplicity. In fact, his words are cherished as the words of God by his devout followers. His discourses, which are mostly in Tamil, are now made available to readers in English, through the hard work of R. Sankaranarayanan. ‘The Voice of Divinity’ is there­fore not an inappropriate title for the volume in English, which presents a faithful, simple and readable version of the original.

Is historical antiquity necessarily an index of cultural supe­riority or an unfailing proof of intrinsic merit? One cannot be too sure in these matters. But there is an irresistible tendency to establish this antecedent as a mode of self-assurance and as a reinforcement of collective self-confidence. That some scholars and savants have a genuine belief in theories which are in tune with his attitude could prove nothing conclusively this way or that. There are a few of them who feel that the Indian chronology arrived at by most European orientalists is not only incorrect, but biased. They feel that it has to be rewritten on the basis of indigenous material, cultural and literary; astronomical and astro­logical as well as historical and quasi-historical.

One of the main theories in this context is that the cradle of man is to be located in the Indian Ocean (in the landmass known as ‘Kumari Kandam’ in Tamil classics and Lemuria in Western classics). Several articles on themes of such pre-historic signifi­cance, relevant to the history of ancient India are presented in the volume ‘Gems from Pre-historic Past’, edited by N. Mahalingam.

Reconstruction involves a deep knowledge of the sources in the past. Transcreation or translation of the classics involves a deep and thorough understanding of the source language and a sensi­tive mastery in handling the target language. In translating the Sanskrit plays of King Mahendra Vikrama Pallava, viz., Bhagavad Ajjuka Prahasana and Mattavilaasa Prahasana, the two scholars, Michael Lockwood and A. Vishnu Bhat, between them, can be said to claim all the requisite skills and qualifications.

While Bhagavadajjukiiyamwas edited and translated over a couple of years ago, Mattavilaasamhas been rendered very recently. The editor/translators have indeed done a thorough job of work. Apart from a very informative introduction, an appendix of royal titles and bibliography, the methodology of translation is commendable. The text in Roman script, interspersed with a literal word-to-word, line-to-line translation, is given on the left hand side, while the idiomatic translation of the whole passage is given on the right. This is followed at the end by the original of the text in the Devanagari script. The whole volume, published by the Christian Literature Society, bears ample evidence of all-round virtuosity. No student of Sanskrit drama, through the English medium, could possibly ask for more.

That the classics in any field demand attention from the semitive and the serious-minded, though they might sometimes defy analysis, is easily granted–Leonardo’s ‘The Last Supper’, Michelan­gelo’s ‘Moses’, Shakespeare’s ‘Hamlet’ or Beethoven’s ‘Ninth Symphony’ or any other masterpieces nearer home. They also challenge comparison, e.g., Ramayana and Illiad, Kalidasa and Shakespeare, Ilango and Milton, Dante and Sri Aurobindo.

The last has been done by an Aurobindo scholar, who had earlier won her spurs, with her ‘Study of Savitri.’ Dr. Prema Nandakumar has done it with special reference to ‘The Divine Comedy’ and ‘Savitri’Did she undertake it because of the striking similarity or the significant difference between the wo? Rather because of the ‘similarity in difference’ as she aptly puts it in one of her introductory chapters. Though there seems, at first sight, little in common between the medieval Italian poet and the modern Indian seer, separated by seven centuries, belonging to two different philosophical traditions, they are both epic poets of major significance.

The keynote of both poems is ‘Forward to the Divine’, observes the author, adding; “The Divine Comedy” ends when a single individual has been cleansed of his sins and bathed in the light of God. Savitribreaks off when a couple have been renewed in the realm of Everlasting Day and return to earth with the hope of divinising the entire human-kind.”

In 22 brief and concise chapters, well packed with quotations and other references, she covers all aspects–linguistic, metrical, stylistic, etc, as well as theological, philosophical and general. It may also be remembered that while Sri Aurobindo’s vision is inspired by the Vedic tradition, his verse is perfected by the dynamics of the Western classical tradition from Homer through Dante to Milton.

Turning from epic poetry to prose fiction, one need hardly hesitate to describe the Yiddish novelist and short-story writer, Isaac Beshavis Singer, as a modern classic. In the eloquent words of the eminent critic, Irving Howe, the most important single fact about Singer is that “no other living writer has yielded himself so completely and recklessly–to the claims of the human imagina­tion.” To the result that Singer’s pre-war World of Jewish ghettoes in Warsaw and Crackow, now gone beyond recall, is artistically more convincing than that of many hefty slices of contemporary life, vouchsafed to us by lesser artists. Let it not also be forgotten that Singer writes in Yiddish, though he is well served in his English translators like Saul Bellow and others.

Edward Alexander’s lucid and well-documented study of Singer in Twayne’s World Authors Series is marked by perspective. He ends on a quizzical note, though, when he says:

“That Singer’s work will survive, we can hardly doubt. But whether itwill survive as part of a living culture or a splendid relic of “the glory that was Israel”, a peg for liberal theosophy to hang pieties on, depends on the fate of the Jews themselves.”

It is one of the paradoxes of the Indian situation that Indian writing in English, in verse as well as in prose, continues to flourish, the loud protests of linguistic patriots notwithstanding. Dr. R. Rabindranath Menon is a seasoned poet, who has something to say without making any pretensions or striking postures in obscurity and obfuscation. In his latest volume, ‘Pebbles on the Shore’ brought out by Writers Workshop, he collects pieces, which are chiselled and polished by instinct and experience alike. In the title piece, he describes the pebbles:

“Resembling life’s little quibbles,
So smooth, elegant and eloquent,
They need your time and talent
To fathom from tints and reflections
Taut expressions of quintessence.”

The poet’s experience as a civilian administering the laws, and also as a citizen obeying the laws, whose burden at times proves too much, impels him to cry out in anguish:

“Give me the land where no laws abide
Where love is the law that can never divide
The odds are many and hopes too few
For the lawless heaven to swing into view.”

Critical writing in English is not doing badly either, judging from the number of literary periodicals sponsored by the English departments of universities and other bodies. The Indian Journal of English Studies, now in its 20th year, starts a new series with the current number (Vol. XX, 1980) which presents a rich and varied fare. Under the seasoned stewardship of Dr. Nareshchandra, it can be expected to maintain high academic standards. It includes articles on such exciting subjects as “Keats’s Wasteland”, “Tennyson and the Orient”, “Nature in Bhagavadgita and Blake”, Aspects of Modern Indian Poetry in Engtish,” etc., besides reviews. There are two poems, a serious one on ‘Delhi’ by R. Parthasarathy and a satirical one in the lighter vein, by Vassant A. Shahane on an IAS officer. The concluding lines of the latter read as follows:

When I am transferred, speak of me
At the Farewell Party
As one who is not so dark a daemon
Trying to be sub-human,
A brownish tadpole
Wishing to be a yellowish frog
Yet a colourless cog
In the red-tapish machine.

The latest addition to the list of these periodicals is Scholar-Critic quarterly journal of cross-cultural literature, theatre arts and folklore, brought out by the Faculty of English and Foreign Languages of the Gandhigram Rural Institute. Edited by Dr. N. Radhakrishnan, it reflects a lively interest in a wide range of concerns, as announced. While the emphasis of the inaugural issue is on Indian Writing in English, the second comes out as a special number on Traditional Indian Theatre.

Much of modern Telugu poetry lies scattered in the pages of popular magazines and literary periodicals, apart from the slim volumes brought out by individual poets from time to time. Comprehensive anthologies, marked by the criterion of quality, are few and far between. Ever since the late S. Muddukrishna compiled his pioneering volume ‘Vaitaalikulu’ (literally ‘the heralds’) in the middle ’Thirties, there have not been too many of them for handy reference by the student of poetry.

The substantial volume, titled Navakavita(New Poetry), compiled by Dr. M. V. Satyanarayana, for the Andhra University, is notable for its wide scope. For it presents a cross-section of poems composed from 1900 to 1976 by over 175 poets from Gurazada, Adibhatla, Tirupati Venkata Kavulu, Cattamanchi and Royaprolu to Jwalamukhi and Nikhileswar, Y. V. Ramana and K. Siva Reddi, P. Gopalakrishna and A. Murali Krishna. The poets are arranged in a chronological order and the selection speaks for a commendable degree of objectivity.

The last surviving pioneer of modern Telugu poetry, Royaprolu Subba Rao, will soon be a nonagenarian, if he is not already one. Essays in appreciation of his work, from a wide circle of his admirers are brought together in a neat little volume by the Vamsee Art Theatres, Hyderabad.

During the last four decades and more, no living Telugu poet seems to have had as powerful an impact on readers, no less than writers, of poetry as Sri Sri, who has completed the biblical span of three score and ten. One of the more serious students of his work Dr. Miriyala Ramakrishna, himself a poet of merit, examines the poetry of Sri Sri–its content and technique, in his doctoral thesis, recently approved by the Andhra University. It is notable for the searching analysis of the sources of his inspiration, in terms of his world view as also his rhythmic patterns and metrical experiments.

The Encyclopaedia project, under the auspices of the Telugu Bhasha Samiti, making steady progress during the last three decades, has almost reached its final stage with the publication of the 14th volume. Devoted to fine arts, this volume has the distinction of having an editorial board that included Mr. S. Sanjiva Dev and Dr. R. Subrahmanyam as well as the late Dr. P. V. Rajamannar and Prof. P. Sambamurti. It has been compiled by Mr. C. Seshagiri Rao. It contains a lot of useful material drawn from primary sources, apart from a good number of art plates.