“KANTHAPURA”–AN APPRECIATION
N.
MADHAVA RAO, M.A.
Raja
Rao, the most powerful novelist of the trio, R. K. Narayan, Mulk Raj
Anand and he himself, is
Kanthapura
is a legend. As the writer comes out in his foreword so is the yarn of the
novel. It has a village with a rich Sthalapurana or
legendary history of its own. Kanthapura, the village, is high on the ghats
up the steep mountains that face the cool Arabian seas. The setting is not that
of a modern novelist’s description. The place has its guardian angels and
protecting Goddess Kenchamma. The idyllic scene is
nowhere dreamy as in reference to the play of Goddesses, e.g., the Goddess of
river, the Himavathy, plays with the Goddess of the
hill throughout night as Kenchamma is the mother of
the river. Raja Rao tells us not the superstitious
nature of the Hindus but describes the scene of the epic. We fail to understand
if we concede that Raja Rao is critical of
superstition. It is a legend’s part.
The
theme, as of a legend, is one of cultural set-up. It is cosmic struggle between
transcendent righteousness and ever proud illusion of evil. The former is
transcendent as it has resilient power to crusade vain powers of evil from
times immemorial. The latter has proud illusion as it is its
vulnerable, ever defeated and never abandoned nature. Both the powers are
identified with the Indian who is a Satyagrahi and
the Red man who is a powerful coward. This explains why Moorthy
or the Mahatma or Rangamma is not seen from the
middle of the battle. The powers are the representatives of their nation’s
culture. Cultural background adds to the theme what interest the anachronistic
struggle for freedom removes. Had it been merely the point of freedom to be
discussed through these chapters, it would have lost its relevance and claim to
epical nature though not exactly epic in structure.
Moorthy is not the man of
modern novel. He is “a very prince,” “our Rama” and
“a small mountain.” He is the prince of visions, of God-fearing and of an order
called Gandhism. He, like Spenser’s knight, sets out
on the look out for truth. What is Gandhism? Oh! it is three-eyed–self-purification, Hindu-Muslim unity and
Khaddar. Who is a Satyagrahi? An
upholder of truth and non-violence. Does he seek anybody’s help in
crisis? He needs no help externally. Everything depends upon his spirit. What
is death to him? It is a promoter of his mission. This is Moorthy
of corner house in “Kanthapura.”
Moorthy, an allegory of
invincible spirit, commands his soul to withstand an endless discord. His
three-day fast is a preparation of a grand hero to conquer vice, a sort of Redcross knight’s atoning in the House of Holiness (Canto X
Book I ‘Faerig Queene’)–where
he “merged deeper into himself and radiance powered out of his body and he
seemed to rise sheer into air!” He catches a little of that primordial
radiance.
What
is evil? Is it in Bhatta who has thirty-seven acres
of wet land and ninety acres of dry land? He is not in two minds to collect 20
per cent of interest. Like the traditional evil, he has a clean black record of
internal crime and perfidy (hates Gandhism, manages
haunted tamarind tree field, banks upon Kotyahali
widow’s affair and wife of Sidda’s sickness always
lisps to gain silvers on obsequial occasions, and
marries second time to add to his countless riches). But he is not the one our
epic needs. It does not want a Machiavelli or a
dissatisfied Socrates or speculative Hamlet to offer climax. It wants that
Dragon the Red man. It is the vice to battle with neither it is Bade Khan, the
policeman, whose feet must be licked, nor waterfall Venkamma
who is ready to excommunicate anybody, including herself by mistake.
Rangamma is the oracle, the
Cassandra of Kanthapura. She tells
the people of plants that weep, of the stars above, of the universe, of God, of
countries beyond
How
is the battle? It is a war between a coward of enormous physical strength (Red
man) and Satyagrahi of oceanic spiritua1 strength;
between the man who robs (cardamons and coffee) and
the spirit that tries to persuade the robber against his crime. Like Rabindranath Tagore’s “Gitanjali” the Satyagrahi wants
freedom to move into an endless world of truth. Started with lathi charge after three-day fast of Moorthy,
the battle is waged through-out with no suggestion of a possible end. It is not
a physical catastrophe. It is a spiritual battle captained by the Mahatma. Kenchamma, the Goddess, Siva the three-eyed, and Narayan, the Lord of Heaven, shall come to save the seeker
of truth. The battle as it progresses takes obvious spiritual turn. Borannatoddy episode makes Satyagrahis
feel as if they walked through fire in harvest time. Or in the picketing before
Skeffington Coffee Estate the Satyagrahi
feels a “secret exaltation” even though Rangamma is
kicked in stomach or Ratna slapped to sleep.
The
battle or struggle for freedom sweeps the epic to cosmic significance. The war
has different episodes like that of an epic. It has true beginning in the
shrieks of Parish women in Non-co-operation Movement in the main street of Kanthapura. This episode ends with Puttamma’s
unhappy event. For the occasion everybody is lost. The steadfast desire to
conquer vice meets suspicion – “and we think neither of Puttamma
nor Seethamma nor Moorthy
nor the Mahatma, but the whole world seems a jungle in battle, trees rumbling,
lions roaring, jackals wailing, parrots piping, panthers screeching …… if
mother Earth had opened herself and said, “Come in children.” How real the
epical battle is! Radhamma delivers there! Nature’s
violence selects the universal violence.
The
first one is called Satyagraha movement (lathi charge
after fast). The last episode like the second one has no hero but heroes. An
epic has many–the city boys and women (of
The
legend has finery and primaeval simplicity. Ramakrishnaiah, the very learned father explains Maya-Vada; Jayaramachar chants the
story of God. Karthik comes with the glow of light
and unpressed footsteps of the wandering gods, with
lights from clay trays and red lights from copper stands and diamond lights
from bowers of entrance leaves; and Visakha with
fine, first footing rain, running cattle, Rohini Star
and yoking of new bulls to the plough, slides always in Kanthapura.
Language
and style of the novel differ from others. As the writer suggests, we find a
new type of language as ideal and different from King’s English as Irish, or
Americans’ English. The writer succeeds in creating his own style. First it
must, in general, be capable of “expressing sublime
thoughts,” e.g., “He merged deeper into himself and radiance poured out of his body
and he seemed to rise sheer into air.” Next, at times it should be ideal and
fleeing as to delve into our subconsciousness, e.g.,
“...and he too entered the temple like a sparrow, and he sat, on the handle of
the candelabra, and….floods suddenly swept in from all the doorways of the
temple…..”
Then
it should be suggestive of the particular culture and nation, e.g., “They say
the Mahatma will go to the Red man’s country and will get us Swaraj. He will bring us Swaraj,
the Mahatma. And we shall be happy. And Rama will
come back from exile, and Sita will be with him, for Ravana will be slain and Sita
freed, and he will come back with Sita on his right
in a chariot of the air ...” Nothing but Indian culture and struggling spirit
for freedom are reflected here.
The
writer adds element of song to make us aware of the element of music which is a
part of soul. Song is always an outlet for tragic or cosmic feeling except in
the first few pages, e.g., Rangamma and Santamma and Ramakrishnaiah are
troubled and silent; from the lit front house comes the “Rock, Rock,” which
being joyous and in contrast to character’s burdened heart, brings out inner
human frailty.
Song
is highly scripture-like sometimes. It touches the heights of heaven.
Laugh,
laugh, laugh away
The
King of Heaven is coming,
He,
the King of Heaven is coming,
Say
Bodhayya.
But
this legend has special refrain apart from all these pieces of music–that of
nation and the Mahatma which continuously pours in adamant moral strength and
unity, e.g., ‘Vande Mataram,’
‘Mahatma Gandhikijai’, ‘Inquilab
Zindabad’.
It
is a happy feature that when the freedom struggle received many times treat in different
ways we find it here neither anachronistic nor over-indulgent but satisfying
aesthetic instinct and demand of relevance. Yes, Raja Rao
is a legend, no, an epic writer.