REVIEWS
Binodini–By
Rabindranath Tagore: Translated from Bengali by K. R. Kripalani. (Published
by the Sahitya Akademi,
In
modern Indian novels, one finds ample material for understanding the culture
and habits of the race. Yet there is a sense of artificiality, especially when
love, romance or sex is, introduced to colour the
theme. Society in
Rabindranath
Tagore has, in this great novel of his, Chokar
Bali (Eyesore in the original Bengali), achieved a rare feat of
intellect. He has made a virgin widow the pivot of limitless
desires, hopes and frustrations caused in the limited confines of a tiny house.
A doting mother, rearing up a spoilt son and marrying him to an innocent
doll-like creature, provides only playthings to his fancy which leads him
astray at the sight of ‘fresf pastures’. The widow, Binodini, is a creation by herself, worthy of any great
novelist. Anna Karenina of Tolstoy may have to lay a wager by her side in the
matter of winning the readers’ sympathies and censure by turns, as her
character unfolds itself. There is nobility, stability and yet selfishness in
the character of Binodini. Her contrast is the weak
Ophelia-like Asha, the lawfully wedded wife of Mahendra, the spoilt hero.
In
between, pass characters like Behari, the staunch
friend, buffetting a hundred storms and situations at
the expense of his own reputation. Fate weaves into a knot the
different strands, and, to the last, Binodini’s
heart, lying in wait for Behari to enter it,
struggles in the coils of another’s passionate worship of her, due solely to
her own seduction of him. Though justification is very little for the widow’s
earlier attempts to wean away Mahendra, there is yet
a strange reason behind the waywardness of a seemingly temporary affair.
One
is aghast sometimes at the cleverness with which the ramifications of
psycho-analysis are explored in the novel. Very often the reader
is perplexed at the adroitness of the novelist which makes real things unreal
at the end. Tagore, though he has written many more
famous novels after the
year 1902 (when this novel was first ushered into the world) appears to have
shown remarkable insight into human nature’s inscrutability, more so when he
has not, despite the prodigality of his poetry, rendered the story halting. One
finds in the novel passages of the author’s own mind only at rare intervals
and, that too, for a short while.
From
the point of view of story, the suspense and the delightful dialogues, this
novel is certainly one of his best. It is a pity the novel has waited so long
for its English garb. But in another sense it did well to wait so long, as it
could not have had earlier a translator like Sri K. R. Kripalani.
His rendering is most welcome to readers. Sri Kripalani
has bestowed the utmost care to secure an easy flow and naturalness of diction.
In
view of the forthcoming Tagore Centenary, the Sahitya Akademi
has done well to provide the Tagore knowing public one more
rich repast of extraordinary delicacy.