Restoring the lost great man of India

By ASHOK PATNAIK

Particles, Jottings, Sparks
The Collected Brief Poems of Rabindranath Tagore
Translated with an Introduction by William Radice
HapperCollins Publishers India, Rs.195

By ASHOK PATNAIK

Rabindranath poems are "virtually impossible to translate into English verse but they could be presented as prose-poems without substantial loss of the quality of the originals. But prose-poems are the most difficult form to adopt for a man who is not to the manner born in the language in question. Tagore certainly was not, and, besides, English is not a language in which prose-poems can be successfully pulled-off". That was Nirad C. Chaudhuri in Thy Hand Great Anarch firmly ruling out any probablity of Bengali translation.

Of all European languages, English is one in which the Bengali language can never be translated and Tagore's own (un)successful translation of Gitanjali has ever remained a subject of debate among critics and admirers. But it was generally agreed that the "diversion of Tagore's energy with writing in English can only be regarded as a waste and considering what he did in Bengali in spite of it, the loss of Bengali literature has to be rated very high".

William Radice is conscious of all this, yet the fire in him to admire Rabindranath Tagore has diminshed in no way ever since he first read Agman in Kheya three decades ago. He did not stop there by just admiring as a child would do by seeing the moon and twinkling stars in the dark sky. Rather he proceeded to embark on an impossible mission with pertinacious effort. That, of course, needed a great deal of intellectual courage.

The current book, third in the row, the two earlier ones: The Selected Poems (1985) and Selected Short Stories (1991), is the testimony of his abiding interest in Tagore. In that, he can be metaphorically compared with late revered Heinrich Meyer-Benfey of Germany, whose admiration for Tagore has had no parallel. Yet I should say, Radice has miles to go before he can be a modern English Heinrich Meyer.

Particles, Jottings, Sparks bring us a bunch of fresh, sparkling, witty verses which had originally appeared in the form of Kanika (1899), Lekhan (1927) and Sphulinga (1945).

Radice toiled five long years to translate all these but I have an interesting anecdote to share with the readers. The translator had in fact published ten drafts of poems from Particles (Kanika) in his offering (I suppose the offering must have been by invitation of the editor) to 1402 Poila Baisakh special supplement of The Statesman (15 April 1995). They have been incorporated with minor changes in the current book under review. For specific numbers one can find them in No. 29 (p-48), No. 32 (p-48), No. 35 (p-49), No. 36 (p-49), No. 37 (p-50), No. 40 (p-50), No. 42 (p-50), No 43 (p-51), No. 45 (p-51), No.49 (p-52).

In his insightful introduction running to 33 pages, Radice successfully excavated the hidden treasures of the times, which would have otherwise remained unknown specially to a non-Bengali reader. Many of the poems, which Tagore preferred to name as kabitika, a diminutive form of poem, were written overseas on silk fans or handkerchiefs. Some were even written as personal notes. Particles (Kanika) is a collection of 110 poems. When it first appeared in 1899, it could not evoke a degree of interest, specially among the critics, for what some said the "poetry lacked substance". But what it indeed brought into light is a conspicuous distinction between an admirer with the fetish inclination and an admirer who could truly distinguish Rabindranath's literary merits without blindly falling into pits of sychophancy.

So when Akshaykumar Maitra wrote a positive review in the bi-monthly Pradip (see p. 61-61, Magh 1306 i,e January-February 1900), he received a quick rejoinder from none other than Sureshchandra Samajpati, an acclaimed literary figure of the time and a contemporary of Rabindranath.

Suresh Babu characteristically wrote: "Akshay Babu has tired to demonstrate to the public that the poet wrote many of the poems in Kanika to get his own back on his critics. If indeed Rabindra Babu were to produce writings of the order of Kanika out of irritation with criticism, then the critics would have no cause for distress. We too have been obiliged to say lots of good things about Rabindra Babu's compositions. If because of the barbs of adverse criticism the immortal poet Rabindranath's divine stream of poetry makes Bengali literature verdant and fertile, then what greater joy for the critics can there be? But the truth-loving historian Akshay Babu will be sorry to hear that Rabindra Babu himself, having read Akshay Babu's critique, has said to us that he had no motive of this sort. To allow Akshay Babu's assertation of a hidden aim in Kanika to be placed on Rabindra Babu's shoulders without objection is to give refuge to insolence and baseness in literature: this is why we raise the matter. The notion that Kanika's jasmine and mallika clusters should bloom in the hell of pettiness, should spread their fragnance on the wind of malicious pique, that the writer should be capable of brazenly-presenting this to the public in order to indulge his own aversion to critics, that he himself should engage in criticism, is surprising." But all this, as William Radice aptly says "vividly brings out the literary warfare of the times".

Rabindranath's second book Jottings (Lekhan) was published, when the Bengali bard was already at the height of the literary fame. More than three-fourth of the 190 poems were composed during his fourth foreign tour (May 1916-March 1917) to Burma, Japan and America. Radice informs us that this is the only bilingual book of the poet. It contains 142 poems in English and Bengali. In Sparks (Sphulinga), which was published four years after the poet's demise, there were poems incorporated in it, which do not match the bhaba or the spirit of Sphulinga, although individually they represent a different form. The translator picked those which he considered would "balance" Sphulinga.

Dust has gathered to dust.
That which will last--
The heart's possession --
Remain in love's heaven.

However, a reader should think twice before accusing the translator of arbitariness. Radice, in fact, appreciates "every one of the 198 poems is different in form. That alone is breathtaking achievement".

With misunderstandings about Rabindra Babu are bewilderingly spiralling even among the seasoned editors of the West (we have not forgotten the manner in which editors Leo Hamalian and Edmond L. Volpe have treated Tagore in the anthology Great Stories by Nobel Prize Winners), Radice emerges as a saviour and restorer of Tagore and his sincere effort of consciousness rising among the non-Bengali readers is more than just commendable. Tagore's works could not have fallen into better hands than Radice's.

| Next | Literature Home |