Thakazhi S. Pillai (1912–1999)

Several years ago, I read Pillai’s novel Chemeen. I thought it excellent but the opportunity to read more of Pillai’s work is hampered by fact that virtually nothing of his work has been translated into English. Scavenger’s Son is remarkable largely for its subject: the life of a family and community of those once called “untouchables” (now generally called “dalits” or “harijans”): the lowest of all castes, those considered and treated as if they didn’t exist. Pillai’s show more choice of topic was extraordinary when he wrote in 1947: Malayalam literature to that point had only dealt with middle- or upper-class Indians. This novel follows the life of a scavenger—those who empty latrines in homes and offices and transport the human waste to “night soil depots.” The protagonist is determined to escape the inevitable cycle of son following father into the work. In his utter determination to claw his way out of his position in society, he loses his humanity. Pillai paints a vivid portrait of individuals and of a community, of daily life, and of how Indian society was constructed so as to maintain caste boundaries at all costs. The acceptance of these rules, even by those the system deemed worthless, and the price they paid was staggering. Pillai is especially good at illustrating the costs of the system both to the individuals and to society. Pillai wrote several dozen novels and more than 20 short story collections; he also won the Jnanpith Award in 1984, India’s highest literary honor as well as two Sahitya Akademi prizes. That he is so little translated into English is a travesty. show less

Ugyan mi lehetne nagyobb joggal egy Rómeó & Júlia történet háttere, mint az indiai kasztrendszer? Karuthamma, az ifjú halászlány a kelleténél közelebb kerül Pareekuttihoz, a fiatal muzulmán kereskedőhöz, ami természetesen nem annyira kompatibilis az ultrakonzervatív halászfalu hagyományaival. (Közbevetés: sokat elárul erről a közösségről, hogyan fegyelmezik a gyerekeiket. Ha egy ifjú leány valami rossz fát tesz a tűzre, akkor megvádolják, hogy miatta vesznek show more majd a tengerbe a halászok, mert megsértett valami bonyolult isteni törvényt. Értjük: „Ne rosszalkodj, kicsim, mert belehalnak a szomszédaink. Meg a papa.” Biztos egészségesen fejlődik annak a jelleme, akire ilyen kozmikus felelősséget halmoznak.) Ezen kívül van szó még e regényben arról, hogyan korrumpálja a lelket a kapzsiság, meg a nők alávetett helyzetéről Indiában. Kultúrtörténetileg számos érdekességet tartalmaz, ha valakit érdekel egy távoli vidék egzotikus közösségének az élete. Bár annyit semmi esetre sem, hogy pótolja a szöveg hiányosságait.

Ugyanis ez a könyv egyszerűen amatőr módon van megírva. A szereplőket például szinte lehetetlen megkülönböztetni egymástól – nyilván ebben nem segít az sem, hogy ilyen neveik vannak: Veluthakunju, Velayudhan vagy épp Ayyappan. Lélektani értelemben kábé annyira vannak kidolgozva, mint egy Thomas, a gőzmozdony epizód – nem csoda, hogy elég hamar elveszítettem minden érdeklődésemet a sztori iránt. (Ami amúgy sem egy Rubik-kocka.) Nem mondom, hogy a legidegesítőbb dolog volt a hétvégémben – az a két BL-döntő volt –, de azért elég kiábrándító könyvecske. show less

So I have finally read an Indian novel that is NOT The Village by the Sea. Miss Black would be so proud. Ironically, this book is also set in a village by the sea.

So the idea is that the sea goddess lives in the sea. If the villagers behave themselves she will let them catch a living from her domain. Most important is that the women remain sexually pure. If they fail the goddess will kill their husbands. At least, this is what the local patriarchy would have everyone believe, but as the show more story unfolds it becomes clear that greed and pride may be greater sins than love.

It’s particularly well written. Calling the prose ‘spare’ would definitely give the wrong impression, but there’s not an inch of bloat and it’s really quite amazing how much Thakazhi gets into such a short book. Well structured too. There are certain changing rhythms in the way it’s arranged that are very pleasing. There may be more than one reading of it possible. If I came back to it in a couple of years or in a different mood I suspect I might find myself reading a different novel. And there’s also a love story for if you’re a girl or some sort of wimp. show less

My friend Jo used to live in India. She told me that when she was first there she asked her husband what day the bin men came. He told her to throw the rubbish over the garden wall. This she duly did and when she peeked into the lane ten minutes later the rubbish had gone. I said that this was efficiency of which even the Germans would be proud. Jo gave me the Look she reserves for those of us who need to check our white privilege.

This novel is set on the other side of that wall. The show more protagonist, Chudalamuttu, is a night soil man and is constrained to be so by his caste. According to the introduction there was outrage in India when it was first published as it describes poor people as having feelings like a human. Culturally I find this rather interesting as here in England it is traditional for the rich to believe the poor have feelings but not to care. Anyway, Chudalamuttu sets about trying to improve him social position and in the process betrays everyone, including himself.

What’s particularly well done is how Thakazhi plays with your feelings. Chudalamuttu’s behaviour is reprehensible and any normal person would condemn it. You know he must be punished as the laws of fiction demand it, yet at the same time you can’t help wondering how you would behave in his position. There’s a wonderfully funny scene in the first chapter involving the bloated corpse of Chudalamuttu’s father and his behaviour can be read as stemming from PTSD. show less