REVIEWS

Chaturanga–A novel by Rabindranath Tagore. Translated from the Bengali by Asok Mitra. Published by Sahitya Akademi, New Delhi. Pages 99. Price Rs. 5.

The Vigil by Satinath Bhaduri. Translated from the original Bengali novel Jagari by Lila Ray. Published by Asia Publishing House, Bombay. Pages 212. Price Rs. 12.

Sri Jaya Deva’s Gita Govinda (the love lyrics of Krishna and Radha) rendered from the Sanskrit and illustrated by George Keyt. Published by Kutub-Popular, 35 C, Tardeo Road, Bombay-34 WB. Pages 105. Price Rs. 15.

The Panchatantra. Translated from the Sanskrit by Franklin Edgerton. Published by George Allen & Unwin Ltd., London. Pages 151. Price 28 shillings.

Translation, they say, is a necessary evil, rather like a woman, adds the male wit, who never lets go the chance to have a fling at the fair sex. As of woman too, it can be said of a translation that what is beautiful is not always faithful and vice versa! Here for once, at any rate, the critic or the reader cannot sing with Keats that Beauty is Truth and Truth Beauty. All the hurdles notwithstanding, there is no getting away from the fact that we can hardly do with-out translation in a country like ours, with 15 major languages, besides English, not to speak of many more not recognised, for official purposes, in the Indian Constitution.

Any number of Indian classics there are, modern as well as ancient, that call for rendering into a common language like English or Hindi, for the benefit of those who do not happen to know the original. There is no fighting shy of it, taking shelter under the too familiar argument that the beauty of the original masterpiece is lost. It is no doubt lost in many cases, and to a regrettable extent. . But the consolation is from what remains after what is inevitably lost. The Nobel Prize, it is well to remember, was awarded to Tagore on the strength of the English version of Gitanjali and it must have retained something of the poet Tagore in it. Bengali seems to be by and large, better served in its English translations than any other Indian language. Almost all the works of Tagore have been available in fairly satisfactory translations, some of which are done by Krishna Kriplani, who made a notable success of Binodini in the English version.

The most recent of the Tagore novels to be presented in English is Chaturanga, one of his shortest and most powerful pieces in longer fiction. The translation, competently done by Asok Mitra, is published by the Sahitya Akademi. In this novel Tagore evokes an eventful period of about half-a-century in the social and political life of Bengal. Unforgettable characters like Swami Vivekananda, Sister Nivedita and Pandit Ishwarachandra Vidyasagar make their appearance in recognisable forms. ‘The Uncle’ in the story, a saintly atheist, god-like in his disposition, comes to the reader with all the power of a Greek catharsis. Damini is almost the female principle incarnate, compelling, unpredictable, but truly inexorable. (What a shape Damini was in, the next morning! It seemed as though the storm of the night before had left the terrible dance of death on this woman alone.) The translator has tried his utmost to capture the mystic grandeur of the original.

The Vigil is also a translation from a Bengali novel–a comparatively modern one, depicting the struggle of a patriotic Indian family in the early Forties (following the August movement of 1942). It is the story of a headmaster who had given up his job in the Freedom movement earlier, and his wife and two sons, one of whom, Bilu, is awaiting the death sentence in the jail. The story is told, not in the conventional form of a connected narrative, but in the shape of musings by the convicted youth (Bilu), the ‘Father’, and the ‘Mother’, and the younger brother Nilu, who does not see eye to eye with the elder. The account is brimful of suspense and every line has a vivid sense of detail and helps to create the atmosphere. Mrs. Lila Ray’s translation reads well, as she has obviously done her best to put it in good English idiom without quite losing the flavour and inflexion of the Bengali speech. The local colour peeps through the pages.

Among the, best-loved classics of Sanskrit love poetry is Jaya Deva’s Gita Govinda, which stands midway between a lyric and a drama. The music and suggestiveness of the original have been the despair of aspiring translators. Not surprising that the sensitive artist from Ceylon, George Keyt, should have been attracted to this poem of love, but that he should translate it in metre and rhyme, as well as in line and colour. The pity of it is that his verse, for all its sophistication, can hardly reach the tenderness and lyrical beauty of the lines, which have a sensuous fullness and rounded perfection about them. All the same, the book (now in its second edition) does drive the reader to the matchless original. Another Sanskrit classic, of a different genre though, has been available in an authoritative English translation. The American scholar Dr. Franklin Edgerton’s version of the Panchatantra is now reissued in a hard cover edition, after the lapse of many years.

–D. ANJANEYULU

Delgated Legislation by K. Chandrasekharan. Published by the Madras Law Journal Office, Madras-4. Price Rs. 7-50.

In a democracy the elected representatives of the people constitute the supreme Legislative authority, both at the State and the Union level. Legislative power essentially rests with the Parliament. Yet, a lot more has to be done after placing a piece of legislation on the statute book. There are bound to arise doubts and difficulties in working out details, procedural and otherwise, when putting the law in actual operation. The administrator who is in constant touch with the working of the various laws, therefore, has to be invested with certain powers to remove difficulties and to facilitate the smooth and effective working of the laws. Government enjoined with the supreme task of administration for the maximum good of the people functions through its three limbs–the Legislature, the Executive and the Judiciary. In the coordinated working of these three institutions lies the merit of any administration. For the smooth and efficient discharge of their respective functions, the Executive and the Judiciary also are invested with certain rule-making powers. That which is essentially a legislative function cannot be delegated by the Legislature to any other body. The power of the Legislature to legislate is not an unlimited power. It is subject to judicial scrutiny where the question of vires is involved. If there is excessive use of the power in a given case, the particular piece of Legislation will be struck down by the judiciary as ultra vires. The same is the case with the power of the Executive or even the Judiciary itself. There are instances where the High Court, having issued an administrative instruction or having made a rule under its rule-making power, held that the instruction or the rule was wrong when the matter was subjected to judicial scrutiny. Quite apart from occasions where certain rules or regulations flowing from delegated legislation have been held to be bad, there can be no gainsaying the fact that in a country where the aim is the establishment of a Democratic society based on Socialistic principles, there must be decentralisation of powers to a large extent. To ensure that basic justice is not sacrificed in a speedy attempt to do good to the people, in some states, committees of suitable persons are constituted as Subordinate Legislation Committees. They make a preliminary survey of the need and scope of Subordinate Legislation in a given case. After a process of screening made by these committees, the Subordinate Legislation is pushed through. At the apex there is the Judiciary to scrutinise the validity of any rule or set of rules when the question is raised before it.

The subject of delegated legislation which has in the present set up of things assumed great importance needs a proper understanding Sri Chandrasekharan has dealt with a vast subject in a narrow compass, compressing his vast knowledge into a book of about 100 pages. Both in style and substance the author has exhibited great skill. In presenting the subject in a clear and comprehensive manner, the author has referred to the system obtaining in the United Kingdom, the United States and in our own country. It is particularly significant to notice that the author has not, in this small book, missed any important detail. The book which is both informative and instructive is, therefore, bound to be of great use and guidance, not merely to the practising lawyer but to the legislator and to the members of the committees on Subordinate Legislation as well.

–V. KAMESWARA RAO

Pakistan: Birth and Early Days by Sri prakasa. Published by Meenakshi prakashan, Meerut, India. 1965. 186 pp. Rs. 15.

Mr. Sri prakasa was handpicked by Prime Minister Nehru to represent India in Pakistan as her first High Commissioner. Due to the bureaucratic set up of the Indian External Affairs. Ministry, his activities were, however, mostly restricted to the province of Sind. The Indian interests in other parts of Pakistan were looked after by members of the Indian Civil Service whose meddlesome ways caused much unpleasant friction.

Mr. Sri prakasa served in Pakistan for eighteen months (August 1947–february 1949), a period which was difficult, momentous and unprecedented in the history of the subcontinent. The mass migrations and massacres, the ushering of a new country, the death of Gandhi and Jinnah, the beginnings of the Indo-Pakistani conflicts, the men and events inside Pakistan were observed by the author who describes them in twenty-six short chapters frankly and freely.

As a Congress legislator in undivided India, Mr. Sri Prakasa had known almost all the first rulers of Pakistan, including Jinnah, Liaquat Ali Khan, Zafrulla Khan, Ghulam Mohammad and Nazimuddin intimately. The places too were familiar to the author as it was in Lahore that the Indian National Congress under Jawaharlal Nehru’s presidentship demanded complete independence. He visited Karachi in 1931 as General Secretary of the Congress.

The author and Mr. Khuhro, Chief Minister of Sind, tried un-successfully to prevent the migration of the Sikhs and Hindus. But most of the Pakistani authorities wanted not only Pakistani Hindus but Indian Muslims also to go to India. Muslim weavers from places like Banaras who went to Pakistan in the first flush of enthusiasm returned to India when they realized that they did not belong there.

The author did not favour partition and thought that the “love of power and fear of possible ruin of the country influenced the minds of our leaders” in agreeing to the division. He feels that none of the purposes for which Pakistan was created had been fulfilled. If anything, the problems have multiplied.

In the Context of the Kashmir conflict, it is interesting to note that the Pakistan Prime Minister at that time did not favour a plebiscite. He wanted to count the number of people on a religious basis. Arguing that Kashmir was contiguous to Pakistan, the Prime Minister was reported to have said that he would never have thought of East Bengal as part of Pakistan had it not been in direct touch with West Pakistan by sea.

Mr. Sri Prakasa feels that the arguments for Pakhtoonistan (a separate state for Pathans) were the same as those for Pakistan, but the Pakistani leaders could not bear to hear them. Pathans claim to be different in race and tradition from other Indian (and Pakistani) Muslims who have a common ancestry with the Hindus. Khan Abdul Gaffar Khan, the Pathan leader, was jailed for nearly fifteen years.

Speaking of the personalities in Pakistan, Mr. Sri Prakasa says that the last days of the creator of Pakistan, Jinnah, were apparently unhappy. He did not expect the exodus and the violence after partition. Liaquat Ali was a “great gentleman.” Ghulam Mohammad was “warm-hearted”; Zafrulla Khan had great talent but indulged in cheap sarcasm.

Perhaps the words of Miss Fatima Jinnah to the Indian envoy at the time of his departure from Karachi have a great relevance in the present phase of Indo-Pakistani relations: “I do not know how it was that the Qaid-e-Azam (Jinnah) thought that Hindus and Muslims could not live together. But he did so. You will please exert all your influence to bring about good relations between India and Pakistan.”

The book is full of interesting episodes and anecdotes narrated without malice towards anyone. Repetition of the same events could have been avoided after a careful revision. This book should be useful to students of the affairs of the subcontinent.

–E. N. RAO

The Last Titan–A Great Liberal (Speeches and Writings of Sir P. S. Sivaswami Aiyar). Selected and edited by K. A. Nilakanta Sastri. Foreword by Dr. H. N. Kunzru. Published by Allied Publishers Private Ltd. Pp. 827. Price Rs. 30.

Liberalism (with a capital ‘L’) has been a dying force the world over, for some decades now. It had its heyday in India as well as in England during the latter half of the last century and the first quarter of this. In this country, this hot house plant was swept away in the flood of the Gandhian movement in the struggle for freedom. It had actually begun to wilt and wither when the inspiration and nourishment its Indian protagonists hoped to draw from their British mentors like Morley proved far from rejuvenating. The most unshakable of the Indian liberals began to realise that it was quite in order for the most admirable of the political exemplars of Liberalism at home (in Britain) to be no better than the worst of imperialist diehards abroad (in India and elsewhere). The fatal blow to their self-confidence was more devastating than the blows to follow from their opponents. Their defeat was moral before it became political. It was, however, a pity that we have had to lose, in the process, much of what was of real value in the liberal tradition. This great tradition was represented in public and private life by no other leader more completely than by Sir P. S. Sivaswami Aiyar.

It was given to Sivaswami Aiyar to occupy the highest positions of public office open to an Indian of his time, Without laying himself open to the charge of being a careerist. After a brilliant academic career (in which he hardly ever knew the second place), he made a mark in Law amidst the giants of the day like Sir S. Subramania Aiyar, Bhashyam Iyengar and V. Krishnaswami. Aiyar. At a fairly early age he became the Advocate-General of Madras and a member of the Governor’s Executive Council. He might well have risen to the Viceroy’s Council, if he had been more ambitious. But he was content to be the Vice-Chancellor of the Madras and Banaras Hindu Universities having turned his attention to education more and more in his later years.

If we remember him now, we do so not so much for the high positions he adorned or the immense wealth he acquired, all by dint of undoubted merit and unremitting hard work. It is rather for the fortune that he gave away (and the offices he did not care to seek in retirement). He was never known, among his friends and acquaintances, for quite a long time, to have been free with his hard-earned money. His private reputation was rather in the opposite direction. His decision to sell away his palatial residence “Sudharma” to find the finances for the schools started by him was something of a sensation. He had one of the best-equipped private libraries of his time, but he did not hesitate to give it away to the College and the University he loved so well (though we do not know for certain how the priceless treasure came to be used by the intended beneficiaries).

Of equal value are some of the intangible elements that formed part of Sivaswami Aiyar’s legacy. These are clearly spotlighted in the brief account of his life and work attached to the sumptuous volume presenting his speeches and writings. Intellectual integrity and accuracy of thought (and expression) were his chief characteristics, all succinctly pointed out by Dr. Kunzru. He chose to place truth in the first place rather than in the second, and his indifference to popularity could be easily understood against this background. His habitual moderation in everything was apt to be mistaken for diffidence and deliberate abstention from emphasis taken for a sign of weakness. A perusal of this volume, which has a high educative value, is sure to disabuse him of any false impression and convince him of the sincerity and patriotism of the great liberal. It is carefully compiled, but could have been better edited.

While he left only two books, viz., ‘Indian Constitutional Problems’ (to which Sir A B. Keith paid a high tribute) and ‘Evolution of Hindu Moral Ideals’ (showing him as a conservative wedded to progress), his essays and speeches on a wide variety of topics, brought together under different heads, are a lasting testimony to his massive intellect and the unlimited range of his interests. He was an acknowledged authority on military problems and defence policy, but law, education and social reform also claimed much of his attention. His views on the medium of instruction, expressed in 1920, have not quite lost their basic validity, even today.

“I see no necessity for using English as the medium of instruction and examination at every stage above Matriculation in the University Course for all time to come. If suitable text-books can be brought into existence in the vernaculars, English may cease to be the medium of instruction and become only a compulsory second language; but at present the question seems to be not within the range of immediate practical politics.”

With all his extensive reading, he was no prolific writer. He chose to be a precise and purposeful one. He was no profound thinker nor an original one. But he took care to be accurate and clear-headed. Patriotism burned in him not as an enveloping flame, but as a steady lamp. The best estimate of him, available to us, was by the Right Hon’ble V. S. Srinivasa Sastri.

“He was a man of wide culture, amiable disposition, and innate courtesy, with an inflexible love of justice and a keen sense of honour, having large and enlightened benefactions to his credit, able to look back on many years devoted to the pursuit of high aims and the doing of things that are clean and of good repute, a man to admire, cherish and present to the young as a shining example.”

Transition in India and other essays by K. Santhanam. Published by Asia Publishing House, 199, Mount Road, Madras. pp. 292. Price Rs. 16.

Under an interesting title that raises high hopes in the uninitiated reader, making him think of a new and thought-provoking research work of a seminal nature, the book under notice brings together a number of indifferent articles on a variety of topical subjects contributed to the daily press during the years 1960-’62. There are also here a few speeches delivered by the author on the floor of Parliament as a member of the Upper House. There is no discernable unity of theme in this collection, except that all of them are about some problem or the other, related in some way to modern India. Not even that could be said, in all accuracy, as a few of them happen to be about Malaya and Malaysia, which the author has had an opportunity to visit on an official mission.

Important among the topics discussed are the Third Five-Year Plan, Indian Constitution, All-India Services, Three-Language Formula and Sino-Indian relations. Over 50 or 60 rather disjoined articles are here, classified under the five broad heads, viz., Politics, Federal Relations, Economics and Planning, Education and Miscellaneous. The last of these heads would have done equally well for all the articles. The subjects are dealt with in a plausible air of dispassionate judgment, though the author is an active party politician with his own strong likes and dislikes, pet theories and prejudices not excluded.

If it is said of a great writer of old that he could make virtue readable, Mr. Santhaaam, the veteran commentator, has a flair for making politics and public affairs dull and heavy, if not altogether unreadable. He has many sensible things to say, but he manages to say them so clumsily as to make them read so commonplace and pedestrian. The complaint against him is not that he is not thoughtful or persuasive, but involved and infelicitous. He is rather a publicist, anxious to focus attention on some important issues, than a real journalist who can hold attention or provoke a train of thought. What would be a personal scrapbook of press cuttings has assumed the impressive shape of a well got up book, thanks to the reputed publishers who specialise in the utterances of political celebrities close enough to the seats of power.

–CHITRAGUPTA

TAMIL

Rasikan Naatakangal by N. Raghunathan. Published by Vighneswara Publications, Madras 4 and Bangalore 3. Rs. 1-50.

Mr. Raghunatha Iyer is that rare combination, the scholar-journalist, who comprehends simultaneously the profound truths of life and observes shrewdly and with the eye of an artist the passing scene. The range of his encyclopaedic scholarship may have been obvious to the readers (or, shall we say, fans?) of the “Sotto Voce”. Weekly articles, which have luckily ‘come out in three volumes that are an enduring contribution to English literature. His capacity for observing the little incidents of life and relating them in his own sharp and vivid style was revealed in the collection of stories in Tamil which was published sometime ago.

Now, we have from him a collection of vividly written playlets which first made their appearance nearly three decades ago. These plays, like his stories, are vignettes of social life in the deep south, especially of Brahminical society in the Tanjore countryside. With his devotion to truth Mr. Raghunathan draws here no idyllic picture of village life but presents a series of disturbing and unlovely snapshots of a disintegrating society caught up in the transition from its traditional moorings to the grasping and self-seeking values of a mnoney-dominated urban civilisation. The disintegrating process is all too visible in these playlets in which the author shows the village gambler, the joint family, the “much-daughtered” parent, the village priest-cum-usurer work their ways through life situations. It is not so much the actual incidents themselves as the manner in which the author has made his characters speak and behave that imparts to these playlets the quality of authentic social realism. By the remorseless accuracy of his insight and his gift for blowing the breath of life into situations that might otherwise have seemed tiresome, the author has endowed these playlets with more than passing literary value.

Between the pressures of a changing economic system and the disintegrating effects of recent agrarian legislation, one may wonder whether anything of value in the old agrarian society dominated by the mirasdar in Tanjore will survive. One will be thankful to the author for preserving in these playlets the authentic speech and moods of a society in its decadence.

–BHARADWAJA

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