Reviews

BENGALI

Upala–Prose-poems by Surendra Nath Maitra. (Published by D. M. Library, 42, Cornwallis Street, Calcutta. Price, One. rupee and eight annas.)

Poet Surendra Nath Maitra is a very important figure in the domain of modern Bengali poetry. He has entered into the field of Bengali literature very late in life. Still in this short time he has enriched our literature, especially our poetry, in so many ways that it owes a debt of gratitude to him. He is a prolific writer and has successfully tried his hand at almost all the different forms of poetry. He holds a very high place among the sonneteers of modern Bengal: he has creditably experimented in different forms of the sonnet. As a good translator of foreign poetry, Mr. Maitra is unrivalled in Bengal. He has won high praise from all quarters for his inimitable translations of Browning, Shelley and the Japanese poets.

In the present book, ‘Upala,’ we find Mr. Maitra in a new role. ‘Upala’ consists of a number of prose-poems. He has two other previous books of prose-poetry to his credit: these are ‘Parnaja’ and ‘Khoai.’ Both these books have been very highly praised by the press and the public. I am sure this new book will also add to his fame.

The prose-poem is a very important feature in modern Bengali poetry. Rabindra Nath Tagore and Premendra Mitra are undoubtedly the pioneers in this field. Following in their foot-steps many other younger poets have come to write prose-poems: the prose-poem, to speak the truth, has become the fashion of the day. There are many young poets today who seem to think that it is very easy to write prose-poems. But it is far from the truth. To infuse life into a prose-poem, one must needs be a great original poet with considerable knowledge of different verse-forms and with technical skill. Mr. Maitra possesses all these qualities: he is a gifted poet who can breathe life even into the dry bones of prose. That is why most of the prose-poems of ‘Upala’ have become pieces of genuine poetry. I do not mean to say that all the poems included in this book are of the same high standard, but a good many of them have pleased me by virtue of their poetic excellence–direct expression, depth of emotion, and learned but simple imagery. Mr. Maitra is not only a good poet; he is well versed in science also. Scientific imagery plays a great part in his poems. Most of these prose-poems centre round homely and simple subjects, but beneath each lurks a deep thought which cannot but stir the feeling emotions of our heart. On the whole, the book has given me great pleasure, and I hope all the lovers of modern Bengali poetry will find rich fare in this book. Below I give the English rendering of a very small poem from this book.

LOVE-PLAY.

The banian tree tells the Vaisakha sky,

"Friend. I have not received your showers for long,

So I have become dry wood.

Still I shall not die

So long as I get the sap of the earth at my root

–That sap which memorises your previous showers."

This prayer reached the ears of the sky

At the end of Jaistha.

At once comes the rainy season

With her plentiful showers–

The emaciated banian shines with rich green twigs.

I sit alone at the window

And watch this love-play

Between the sky and the banian tree.

GOPAL BHAUMIK

 ‘Nirukta’–A quarterly poetry journal. Edited by Premendra Mitra and Sanjoy Bhattacherjee. (Published from 157B. Dharamtala Street, Calcutta. Price, Eight annas per issue. Annual subscription, Two rupees.)

Bengal has always been and still is the land of poetry. Perhaps poetry accords most suitably with the verdant and smooth perspective of the land. It is therefore that in our literature we possess the richest heritage in poetry. Modern Bengal is also no exception to this general rule. Poetry today holds the most important place in our literature. This is well proved by the fact that there are at least three periodicals entirely devoted to the cultivation of poetry. ‘Nirukta’ is the latest in the list. The first issue of the ‘Nirukta,’ which is under review, has given me great satisfaction by its high standard. The editors themselves are good poets: Premendra Mitra is, in my opinion, the most important poet in the post-Tagorean Bengali poetry; Sanjoy Bhattacherjee is also a young poet of merit. So a poetry journal edited by Premendra Mitra and Sanjoy Bhattacherjee can hardly fall below the standard. The present issue includes the contributions from such famous poets as Rabindra Nath Tagore. Surendra Nath Maitra, Jatindra Nath Sen Gupta, Mohit Lal, Morumdar, Sudhindra Nath Dutt, Sajoni Kanta Das, Nilima Devi, Humayun Kabir and Amiya Chakrabarty. ‘Nirukta’ has got a special review section in which learned reviews of poems are published. This poetry journal has given me great pleasure by its rich contents, and I hope it will please all lovers of modern Bengali poetry. The editors are to be congratulated for bringing out such a brilliant poetry journal.

GOPAL BHAUMIK

KANNADA

Bharata-Marga (E. M. Forster’s ‘A Passage to India’)–Translated by G. B. Joshi, M.A. (Pp. 7+413. Manohara Grantha Mala, Dharwar. Price, Rs. 2-4-0.)

‘Bharata Marga’ is a translation of Mr. E. M. Forster’s famous novel, "A Passage to India." Mrs. Moore and Miss Adela Quested, English tourists in India, whose frank and open-hearted natures have not yet been touched by the petty snobberies of Anglo-Indian life, get acquainted with one Dr. Aziz. Their acquaintance soon develops into friendship, and Dr. Aziz invites them to visit the Marwar caves, much to the unexpressed dislike of Miss Adela’s lover. While in the caves, Miss Adela for some reason gets agitated and comes to believe that Dr. Aziz attempted outraging her. The rumour spreads like wild fire, and Aziz is incarcerated. The earnest efforts of Mr. Fielding, the principal of a Government College, and the ultimate withdrawal of the accusation, secure the acquittal of Dr. Aziz, but the stigma pursues him through life. The bitter experience leads Aziz to hate the British people as a whole, and he spends the remaining part of his life in a Native State.

Forster visited India before the dawn of the Gandhian era in Indian politics. He is convinced that civilians imported into India are neither political experts nor men of high culture, and if some bright exceptions come infrequently, they too, within a short period, succumb to pernicious precedents, and are soon dominated byan official and no less racial superiority-complex. A habit of mind which looks down with contempt upon the people of India, is soon fortified by the fawning of subordinates, and creates a gulf between the civilian and the people, making a mutual understanding impossible. Thrown far away from their own country, and disinclined to mix with the people here, they create in the heart of the land an artificial "Anglo-India" of their own. Forster is evidently pained to see that mediocrity of English talent and culture should so much monopolise covetable positions in the bureaucratic system and rest satisfied in complacent insularity. To those who are curious about the way of life of such civilians in India, Forster gives an illuminating and significant picture.

"A Passage to India" lays particular emphasis upon the gradual change which "Anglo- India" has suffered with the lapse of time. If the Turtons are affected by racial complexes, Mrs. Moore, who, as the novel marches to its close, assumes more and more the character of a presiding deity, is sympathetically disposed towards India. The interest of the novel centres mainly around the unfortunate consequences of the two ladies’ intimacy with Dr. Aziz. For Forster, as for D. H. Lawrence, personal relationships are only possible when accompanied by a realisation of the complete integrity of the other person involved. Even when we love people, we desire to keep some corner secret from them, however small; it is a human right; it is Personality," says Forster in his other novel "The Longest Journey." Forster, who, in his earlier novels, deliberately stressed the value of personal relationships as the only kind of stable basis for existence, seems in "A Passage to India, which ostensibly deals with the difficulties of communication and understanding between the East and the West, to doubt the value of personal relationships. Though in the end Miss Adela Quested withdraws her accusation against Dr. Aziz, to the scandal of the European Colony and her own disgrace; and though the memory of Mrs. Moore effects a reconciliation between Dr. Aziz on the one hand and Mr. Fielding and Mrs. Moore’s children on the other, one feels almost convinced that the reconciliation means nothing. The growing sense of post-war disillusion and the negation of all value find emphatic expression in this great novel. When factors far more important than personal relationships sway the balance and decide the issue, mutual harmony and understanding seem to Forster meaningless, and, as the writer of the Preface to the present translation tells us, Forster, while recently speaking to the Majlis at Oxford, confessed that while he wrote "A Passage to India," he was unaware of the economic relations between the two countries, and clearly expressed his conviction that personal friendships such as that between Dr. Aziz and Mr. Fielding could emphatically be of no avail.

To Forster, novel-writing is a complex and esoteric art, and "A Passage to India," though practically devoid of a story to speak of, holds, as his other novels do, much popular favour, sheerly by his placid integrity, clarity of outlook and originality of thought. With a keen sense of character and a penetrating insight into the thoughts, feelings and view-points of the Indian and the Englishman alike, he has given in the present novel a variety, of powerful conceived characters. The emotional and impulsive Dr. Aziz whose liberal sympathies only tragically stigmatized him for life, the self-respectful lawyer, the magistrate striving to be impartial,–all testify to Forster’s sympathetic observation. The fabric of the whole story is subtly interwoven with the political life in India, enlivened here and there by deft glances at the social life of Hindus and Muslims, and by emphasis upon the artificial character of the Anglo-Indian ways of life.

In these days of growing political consciousness, the value of a translation of a novel like the present one can hardly be exaggerated. Mr. Joshi is responsible for a number of valuable translations. Kannada readers must ever remain thankful to him for the valuable service he has rendered in making available to them a great and voluminous novel.

V. M. INAMDAR

Grama-Panchanana–By B. K. Laxmeshwar. (Pp. 5 plus 112. Manohar Grantha Mala, Dharwar. Price. As. 12.)

A sufficiently gripping novel, Grama-Panchanana gives a striking reflection of the countryside ignorance, and superstitions and the troubles which they bring. The novel raises an interesting and no less important question in literary criticism. Art is no mere transcript from life, and the representation, unless lifted up by a subtle and unmistakable touch of ideality, cannot avoid being static and particularised. Realism in literature, it a certain point, ceases to be interesting and tends to detract universality from characters and situations. An otherwise successful novel, Grama-Panchanana, however, leaves the reader with the impression that the characters and the situations have been too much individualised and localised so that one hesitates to accept what is presented without a pinch of salt. Not that the incidents and the ignorant credulity of the characters, which helps the story to move on, are impossible in daily life, but they are not informed by a necessary measure of convincing probability.

Vadakanna, a thoroughly selfish and crafty fellow, gets into the confidence of a village zamindar and his wife with no issue, and taking advantage of the wife’s credulity and the former’s unsuspecting generosity of mind, plays all kinds of mischief, and, in the end, with an eye on the zamindar’s property, secures his slow death through the agency of a village sorcerer. The husband and the wife play too much into the hands of the villain whose cunning after all was thin and easily penetrable. Even accepting, as we have done, the possibility of such natures as that of the zamindar and his wife, the whole story moves on in an atmosphere where too much has to be taken for granted. It is the subtle touch of the artist in letters which gives to characters their validity in imaginative fiction and a wider life beyond the framework of the particular story. That subtle touch, however, is here certainly wanting. Here among the pages is the realistic history of a "case" of simplicity deluded by crafty scheming.

The editor notes with satisfaction that the story is wrenched directly from the rough experiences of rural life. If on that account the novel has gained in vividness and verisimilitude, it has lost much by its crudity. Colloquialism does not excuse crudity of expression, which sometimes proves an undesirable substitute in making explicit certain things which one wishes should have been covertly suggested. The author, however, has undoubtedly the skill to maintain interest in the story till the end, though, as in the opening chapter, he is apt to lapse into unnecessary descriptions. Grama-Panchanana, though crude and unsatisfying as a performance, holds behind its crudity a promise of polished output for the future.

V. M. INAMDAR

Marga-Darsaka–By M. V. Seetaramayya. (Pp. 8+142, Manohar Grantha Mala, Dharwar. Price, As. 14).

Marga-Darsaka is a collection of thirteen short stories. The story which gives the title to the collection tells us of a rather morbidly sensitive youth, grief-stricken at the loss of his child, and intent upon ending his life by suicide. He is at last dissuaded from his endeavour by an old man. The persistent emphasis laid upon the wisdom of experience explaining the proper approach to life’s troubles makes the figure of the old man symbolic and shadowy with the inevitable result that the old man of the story wavers only somewhere on the confines between the dim world of moral values and that of living humanity. A certain morbidity or at least an acute and ironic sensitiveness to life’s bitterness, seems almost an invariable trait of mind with most of Mr. Seetaramayya’s heroes. The disgust which Moorti in "Bagedante Balu" comes to feel about life and which ultimately sends him to his untimely ‘watery grave’ proceeds more from his own morbid and dissatisfied brooding than from any external cause to speak of. The story, however, is grimly told and, in its effect, only vies with the tragic pity which overwhelms the life of the newly-wedded Chennu, in "Hucchana Hambalu," whose dreams of a happy meeting with her husband are all too rudely shattered by the latter’s instability of mind, pitiably due to unemployment; and the girl is driven to suicide. In "Gopiya Geluvu" again, a convalescent, falling in love with the nurse who attended upon him, relapses into his illness and dies when he finds that she could not love him until it was too late. A note of sadness, something bitter at the bottom of life’s cup, pervades all the stories in the collection. If the love of the newly-united lovers, strangely developing from mere physical attraction into a closer and more intimate understanding of one another, characterises the later stories (Prema Pareeksha, Kumuda), there is something deeply moving m the way in which beauty and youth’s unfulfilled love hold man under their pitiable sway. "Kathegara Chandu" and "Kurudu Prema," though distinctly amateurish, only substantiate the above statement in one respect or another. "Nambidare Nambi" and "Sodararu" depend for their effect upon all too unexpectedly sudden accidents. "Kalla Ranga" is an interesting and no less thought-provoking piece of a beggar’s autobiography. The other stories may be left unmentioned.

When one lays down the book one feels with the author that what is wanted is experience and, in the case of the author of the stories, experience in his craft. But, the book being the first collection of his short stories, Mr. Seetaramayya, one thinks, has yet to develop his craft. The dialogue has sometimes an air of unreality, and is often halting and insufficient. The writing is sometimes needlessly florid, without polish and ease. However Mr. Seetaramayya has the right eye for his themes, and one may confidently hope for better things from his pen.

V. M. INAMDAR