Oh, I loved this post! It took me straight down memory lane to my childhood summers in Kerala, a time of simple innocence. Like you, I am awash in nostalgia when I listen to the Chemmeen songs. I haven't read the book, although I've heard my mother and grandmother talking about Thagazhi and his work. And - the photos are gorgeous!! Wasn't there a movie called Manichitrathazhu??
Yes, there was such a movie. Isn't that lock stunning? Also, yes, so much nostalgia and sadness for that lost innocence. For those very simple ordinary times. Thank you for writing, Kamini. I love your reflections. As to the pics, I've got tons of photos and my husband's database is a whole other story:-)
Your series (particularly with regard to translations from Indian languages) brings to mind Salman Rushdie's quite controversial comments in his introduction to The Vintage Book of Indian Writing (published to celebrate 50 years of India's independence), in which he was rather disparaging of vernacular literature in India. He did try to cover himself by saying that it could have been because of the poor quality of the translation, rather than that of the original work. The only translated work that made it into this anthology was Manto's Toba Tek Singh; everything else was written in English.
Totally upset by that when I read it years ago. In my AN ENGLISH MADE IN INDIA, I refer to it by asking the late writer Nabaneeta Deb Sen about it. Many eye rolls to Rushdie. Brilliant but lacking in wisdom. I know so many humans like that.
Ha ha true, too many people around filled to the brim with book smarts, and no wisdom; even more have neither. Thank goodness for the rare few who correct that imbalance!
From your vivid description, Kalpana, this books looks like it's a winner and worth reading. More importantly, your own clear critique of the translation and of the original version of the novel touched me like gently floating gossamer on a crisp winter morning gleaming in the golden rays of the rising sun; beautifully written and deserving praise. Keep writing and keep us regaled with your talent!
From Chapter 10: "She was longing for her wedding day to be over. There seemed to be so much suffering because of her. Everyone she had come in contact with in her life was unhappy. And she wondered how many people were likely to suffer in the future on her account."
Isn't it sad, Tony? I was really moved when Pareekutti said that fishermen would come to no good. They killed to make a living. Wow. I never quite thought of things like that. Karma right there.
Oh, I loved this post! It took me straight down memory lane to my childhood summers in Kerala, a time of simple innocence. Like you, I am awash in nostalgia when I listen to the Chemmeen songs. I haven't read the book, although I've heard my mother and grandmother talking about Thagazhi and his work. And - the photos are gorgeous!! Wasn't there a movie called Manichitrathazhu??
Yes, there was such a movie. Isn't that lock stunning? Also, yes, so much nostalgia and sadness for that lost innocence. For those very simple ordinary times. Thank you for writing, Kamini. I love your reflections. As to the pics, I've got tons of photos and my husband's database is a whole other story:-)
The photos are all stunning, and the one of the lock, particularly so. Looks like your husband's photo database merits a story all its own!
Your series (particularly with regard to translations from Indian languages) brings to mind Salman Rushdie's quite controversial comments in his introduction to The Vintage Book of Indian Writing (published to celebrate 50 years of India's independence), in which he was rather disparaging of vernacular literature in India. He did try to cover himself by saying that it could have been because of the poor quality of the translation, rather than that of the original work. The only translated work that made it into this anthology was Manto's Toba Tek Singh; everything else was written in English.
Totally upset by that when I read it years ago. In my AN ENGLISH MADE IN INDIA, I refer to it by asking the late writer Nabaneeta Deb Sen about it. Many eye rolls to Rushdie. Brilliant but lacking in wisdom. I know so many humans like that.
Ha ha true, too many people around filled to the brim with book smarts, and no wisdom; even more have neither. Thank goodness for the rare few who correct that imbalance!
From your vivid description, Kalpana, this books looks like it's a winner and worth reading. More importantly, your own clear critique of the translation and of the original version of the novel touched me like gently floating gossamer on a crisp winter morning gleaming in the golden rays of the rising sun; beautifully written and deserving praise. Keep writing and keep us regaled with your talent!
Wow, thank you so much, Dilip, that means a lot. I love hearing from you…
Thanks to your post, I have discovered, and now read, this riveting novel. In fact, I finished it this evening. I am shaking a little.
From Chapter 10: "She was longing for her wedding day to be over. There seemed to be so much suffering because of her. Everyone she had come in contact with in her life was unhappy. And she wondered how many people were likely to suffer in the future on her account."
Isn't it sad, Tony? I was really moved when Pareekutti said that fishermen would come to no good. They killed to make a living. Wow. I never quite thought of things like that. Karma right there.