Thursday 24 November 2022

Words and Worlds: Presidential Address at 65th All India English Teachers Conference by Nibir K. Ghosh

                                       

                                               


 

                              Words and Worlds: Why Literature Matters

Nibir K. Ghosh

I deem it a privilege and pleasure to bring to this august gathering warmest good wishes from the city of the Taj and Sulahakul.


I am here to share with you a collage of impressions related to “Words and Worlds: Why Literature Matters.” It is often the general tendency to hold in low esteem what literature can offer us in terms of career opportunities in comparison to Science or Medicine. An astronomer once declared in a scientific meeting: “To an astronomer man is nothing more than an insignificant dot in the infinite universe.” Einstein, who was present at the meeting, is reported to have observed: “I have often felt that, but then I realize that the insignificant dot, who is man, is also the astronomer.”

In contemporary parlance, while the whole world was battling to contain the onslaught of COVID-19, the sale of Albert Camus’ The Plague sky-rocketed unprecedentedly. It was reported that in France, particularly, there were more queues of people outside book shops for a copy of Camus’ book than that of COVID-infected patients outside hospitals. Camus points out in the novel, "Each of us has the plague within him; no one, no one on earth is free from it." We can see in this statement a universal link that connects us to the plague and the chaos it created in ancient Thebes of Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex. Alice Kaplan’s observation, “You need to read The Plague almost as though this novel were a vaccine — not just a novel that can help us think about what we're experiencing, but something that can help heal us," further advances the argument in favour of the value of literature. Not many of us may not be aware that the word “Robot” was not coined by any scientist but was used for the first time by a Czech playwright K. Kapek in his play R.U.R. way back in 1920.

In the context of the theme of the conference, our close proximity to the ancient Nalanda university assumes special significance. The ruins of Nalanda that today lie in splendour in spite of the passage of centuries remind us of the glorious seat of learning that had lured countless lovers of peace and harmony from various parts of the globe till the fanatic invader Bakhtiyar Khilji desecrated and vandalised in 1193 what had been a flourishing centre of Buddhist education for nearly seven centuries.

For the students of English literature such barbarous and uncivilized acts are not without parallel. On May 29, 1453, the Fall of Constantinople, brought to the fore similar scenes of desecration of innumerable libraries containing invaluable books and manuscripts belonging to the classical age. However, it is no less significant that the exodus of Greeks to Italy as a result of this event marked a turning point in the history of human civilization. The survivors who succeeded in escaping the brutality of the Turkish invasion carried with them whatever they could salvage from the libraries to keep alive the tradition of ancient learning. Such individual as well as collective acts of valour culminated in the end of the Middle Ages and the beginning of the Renaissance.

The revival of classical learning brought to the fore the treasures of Greek and Roman literature. The plays, tragic and comic, emphasized the high moral order of the Athenian society. Respect for ethics and morality governed the unrestricted spirit of Athenian Democracy.

Renaissance Humanism emphasizes the dignity of man and his perfectibility as may be gathered from Shakespeare’s words in Hamlet: “What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! in form and moving, how express and admirable! in action, how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals!” (Hamlet Act II sc. ii).

The spirit of human concern experienced a major paradigm shift with the French Revolution in 1789. Its ideals of “liberty, equality and fraternity” hugely impacted the creative process for writers and intellectuals of the time. William Wordsworth effusively declared: “Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive. To be young was very heaven.” According to P.B. Shelley, a poet was a unique blend of the seer and the prophet, “an unacknowledged legislator of the world.”

The magnitude of the change wrought by the French Revolution can be seen from the way it provided the much-needed impetus to view humanity. Right from the time of the Greeks down to the Shakespearean era the raw material for literature was provided by people of noble birth: Kings, Lords, Princes, Generals etc. Though Thomas Gray had shown through his immortal “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard” the imperative of diverting attention from the high and mighty to the “short and simple annals of the poor,” it was largely William Wordsworth who became the harbinger of celebrating the lives of common people. Consequently, the personas in his poetry are ordinary folks like the solitary Reaper, Leech Gatherer, Michael, Mathew, Lucy Gray, Beggars, Shepherds, dwellers in the Valley” etc.

In the wake of the industrial revolution and unprecedented technical advancement, new dimensions were added to the concept of humanism by focusing attention on “Man in the total, unfathomable inwardness of his being” and a new purpose that would give significance to man’s life.

During the intellectual disorder between the two great wars, cataclysmic changes in thought, ideas and action led to a pervasive sense of gloom that became the dominant mood in the realm of literature. However, W. H. Auden’s exhortation to writers, poets and intellectuals in the poem “In Memory of W. B. Yeats” signified the light of hope: “In the deserts of the heart/ Let the healing fountain start.”

Strange as it may seem, the dominant note in the Indian subcontinent was of coming to terms with the reality of a nation waking up from its centuries of slumber under one alien rule or the other. The Indian writer saw the opportunity for self-discovery—the strength of his own roots, his history and destiny—and for turning the English language into an anti-language experience to fight against the cultural imperialism of the British. Ruskin Bond’s statement in this context is significant: "It was thought that with the departure of the British, the English language was finished in India. In fact, just the opposite has happened. English has flowered in India to an extent it had never done in British times."

We all are aware that Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children was a seminal influence in triggering off the boom in Indian writing in English. Not only did Rushdie’s masterpiece overwhelm literary circles in the West and win the Booker Prize; its impact on Indian literature in English was also decisive. Blessed by Media hype and critical acclaim in the West and patronized by readers in their own country, they have earned for Indian English fiction an enviable distinction in terms of variety, value, interest and importance. Thanks to the opening up of branches by upmarket foreign publishers like Penguin, Picador, and Harper Collins, Indian writers in English today are hot property. Indian Writing in English, especially fiction, is now seen as the goose that lays golden eggs. What a leap it has been for Indian Writing in English from R. K. Narayan wishing to throw the manuscript of Swamy and Friends into the Thames, as he couldn't find any publisher abroad, to the writers who have bagged the Booker, the Pulitzer and other such fancy awards.

In locating humanistic trends in Indian Fiction in English, the contribution of women writers must come up for serious consideration in this conference. After Kamala Markandaya. Anita Desai, Shashi Deshpande set the scene for understanding the human world in its various manifestations, the decade of the 1990s and after saw a virtual boom in women’s fiction. Awards and accolades starting with the Booker to Arundhati Roy for God of Small Things and the Pulitzer for Jhumpa Lahiri’s Interpreter of Maladies have compelled one to believe that women writers need no more moan the absence of “a room of one’s own” in the sphere of Indian fiction in English.

Among the challenges for the creative writer is the need to use English language with the same felicity and authenticity with which the Bhasha writers use their vernaculars. No amount of humanistic concern can evolve without the use of a language that makes genuine human speech resonate with the truly human thought. In this era of globalization, it is perhaps a unique phenomenon to see the underlying unity running through the literary productions of diverse nations and cultures.

Literature (or Literatures), therefore, must fruitfully visualize and recognize the social, psychological and humanistic needs of the free and equal partnership of people working together for the common good characterized by tolerance, respect for freedom, compassion and progressive democracy. The margin/centre binaries need to be explored to create a more equitable society.

From the above discussion about the impact of literature in shaping sensibilities and approaches to life in different times, climes and spaces, I find it pertinent to share with my young friends here my unforgettable meeting and conversation with two-time Pulitzer Prize winner, August Wilson, during my Fulbright Fellowship year at the University of Washington, Seattle. When I asked Wilson about his ‘drop-out’ experience at Gladstone school that had brought an end to his formal education, he wistfully responded: 

Yes. It was at Gladstone High School … when our history teacher asked us to write a paper on a historical personage. I chose Napoleon because Napoleon had always fascinated me as a self-made emperor. I prepared a twenty-page paper and titled it “Napoleon’s Will to Power.” My teacher refused to believe I had written the paper. I showed him the bibliography and the footnotes but he wasn’t convinced. He gave me a failing grade ‘E’ on the paper. I tore the paper up and threw it in the wastebasket and walked out of school. (Ghosh 2005: 24)

August Wilson admitted that the abrupt end of his formal education could not keep him away from his passion for reading. Inspired by his mother, August learned to read at the age of four and had his first library card when he was only five years old. His favourite haunt after he dropped out of school was the Carnegie Public Library where, through avid reading of works by black authors, he discovered the joy and terror of remaking the world in his own image through the act of writing. He recalled how his mother had so much wanted him to become a lawyer and added that, had she been alive, she would have been truly proud of her unschooled son being conferred with honorary degrees from numerous US universities including Harvard.

The story of Nani Palkhivala, who was designated as God’s gift to India’ by C. Rajagopalachari, is no less inspirational in relation to the power of literature. Before becoming one of the most eminent jurists of international fame, Palkhivala was a student of English Literature aspiring to be an English teacher. As a student, his inherent love for literature is evident from his daily long visits to the Popular Book Depot (Lamington Road, Bombay) owned by Ganesh Ramarao Bhatkal who would encourage Palkhivala to read books for free for as long he wished to be there. In one of his statements Palkhivala records: “It was in those years that I read the lines of Wordsworth’s “Tintern Abbey” which have always been etched in my memory: “that best portion of a good man's life,/ His little, nameless, unremembered, acts/ Of kindness and of love.” If mere three lines from a poem can instil in an individual the irresistible urge for “kindness and love,” the importance of literature need not be overemphasized. 

It may be debated whether the study of literature can bring one material affluence but it cannot be denied that literature can make us better human beings capable of compassion and understanding towards our less fortunate brethren. In the Zoo at Lusaka, Zambia, there is a cage where the notice reads “The world’s most dangerous animal.” Inside the cage there is no animal but a mirror where you see yourself. Literature, thus, has the power to transform a brute into a true human being. If you have read Acharya Sudarshan’s short story “Haar ki Jeet” you know what such a transformation can mean. As teachers of language and literature we ought to understand that “Animals can be trained, but only human beings can be educated.” Education of life, unlike education ending up in mere certificates or degrees, requires personal participation and inward appropriation.

Therefore, we must cultivate a life-long intellectual curiosity and make books and wisdom of the ages our lifetime companions. Literature can shed enormous light of awakening on our mind and heart provided we allow the windows of our mind to remain open rather than leaving them at the mercy of what has now become a popular term called “herd immunity.” More importantly, literature can contribute immensely in developing the skill of eloquence that can move individuals and crowds.

I am reminded about a song "Blowin' in the Wind" by Bob Dylan, the Literature Nobel Laureate that became exceedingly popular during the Civil Rights Movement in the U.S. in 1960s and remains so even today:

How many years can a mountain exist
Before it’s washed to the sea?
Yes, and how many years can some people exist
Before they're allowed to be free?
Yes, and how many times can a man turn his head,
Pretending he just doesn't see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
… … …

Yes, and how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, and how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

The song, besides other things, sensitizes us about matters we see and tend to ignore and urges us to look within ourselves to understand with compassion and concern our responsibilities towards humanity at large. In a world caught up in the throes of crises generated by oppression, discrimination, fundamentalism and clash of civilizations, even a little poem can help us connect to people and events that we had hitherto pretended not to be aware of. In an age where cyberspace has literally shrunk the world in terms of both space and time it is imperative for the writer as well as the reader to understand that no policy of isolation is possible. In a global setting where we are subjected to the tsunami of 24X7 information, it is difficult for a sensitive person to pretend to remain unaware of the goings on in the rest of the world, be it the Russian invasion of Ukraine, the attack on the US Capitol, Black Lives Matter Movement, the death of Mahsa Amini in Iranian police custody or the brutal murder of Ankita Bhandari in Uttarakhand.

I, therefore, look forward to with optimism that the deliberations in this conference on numerous dimensions of Emergence, Essence and Presence of literature will provide a road map for the glorious future of English teaching and learning in India and elsewhere.

This Keynote talk will remain incomplete if I do not put on record my grateful thanks to the office bearers of The Association for English Studies of India for giving me the opportunity to address you all as President of this Conference. My thanks are also due to Nav Nalanda Mahavihara for organizing this historic conference with success.

A Big Thank You! One and All.






Copyright Nibir K. Ghosh November 2022