Truth is another thing

Opinions flew back and forth at the Bangalore Literary Festival; while some had shock value, others were an outcome of study and research

September 30, 2014 05:15 pm | Updated 08:01 pm IST

Shubha Mudgal

Shubha Mudgal

The same stage declared A.K. Ramanujan as great and not-so-great, in his roles as writer and translator respectively. Playwright Girish Karnad hailed him as a rich source of ideas, also attributing the global success of U.R. Ananthamurthy’s novel Samskara to AKR’s translation. In a session on Personal and Universal – Tackling nationhood and translations , poet H.S. Shivaprakash almost termed AKR’s translation of vachanas a disservice to the 12 century mystic poets, referring to the work, Speaking of Siva .

“The vachanas are intensely dialogic in nature and Ramanujan makes it monologic in his bad translation. Kannada doesn’t need Chicago translators,” he said, tongue firmly in cheek. While the former opinion seems far-fetched, the latter was an outcome of valid academic reasoning. However, wise readers are sure to make their own conclusions, even with a flamboyant literary festival that seems to offer a one-stop solution to all literary quests.

“Let’s declare the individual translator dead,” said H.S. Shivaprakash, saying that it is time to usher in the era of collaborative translation works. The Gujarati writer Sitanshu Yashashchandra earlier remarked that he was interested in reading works from other Indian bhashas and bring them into his own mother tongue. “I would rather have Shivaprakash in Gujarathi than Maxim Gorky and Mark Twain. When I see the efforts my contemporary writers put in getting their works translated into English and not into other regional languages of India, I feel there is something wrong. I love my language,” he emphasised. “Isn’t it a pity that a writer like Sitanshu hasn’t been translated to Kannada?” asked Shivaprakash.

“I became universal because I was able to read translations of literatures from other parts of the world in my mother tongue, Telugu,” explained the Telugu writer Volga, who has been extensively translated into Kannada. Recalling the abundance of Soviet Literature in the 60s and 70s, as it was with Maugham, Pearl S. Buck, and Mark Twain, she said that she felt closer to these texts in Telugu than in English. “In fact, Tom Sawyer became my own boy from my own region,” she recalled her early reading years. “I differ with you,” said Sitanshu. Translation is travel, and at once travelogue too. So, even in translation, Tom Sawyer has to remain an American boy, and not become the boy of your immediate neighbourhood, he argued.

“Gems of Indian literature get translated into English, and not into regional languages. A second rate writer gets a good translator and becomes international. Whereas a superior writer, for instance, someone like Chandrashekar Kambar is poorly translated,” observed H.S. Shivaprakash. The other problem he saw in translations was the use of Sanskrit words. He recalled how poet K.S. Narasimha Swamy had reacted to Kuvempu’s excessive use of Sanskrit diction. “‘ Kannada putadali enee samskrutada meravanige (what is this procession of Sanskrit words on the Kannada page?)’ he had remarked. In fact, translation can itself give you a sense of cultural politics…,” he remarked and explained how while the poet B.M. Shrikataiah translated Palgrave’s Golden Treasury , poet Da. Ra. Bendre was busy translating the national songs of all countries, except that of Britain.

“Translation is both a cultural and political activity. Often, one finds that culture specific details are sacrificed in English translations, and that is a sad approach,” felt T.P. Rajeevan.

***

In an interesting session on Interface of Hindi Literature and the Arts , the differences between popular and the classical genre of music came to the fore. Of course, notwithstanding ignorant comments from members of the audience who had ‘easy’ notions about music that unsettled even the maestros on stage! Moderated superbly by Yatindra Mishra, Hindustani classical vocalist Shubha Mudgal admitted that even after several attempts that she has not been able to compose a bandish. “My khoj is to write a bandish that fits the contemporary world, but it seems that it requires far greater skills than I have at the moment. It is more than being sensitive to language and its movement,” she said, as graceful as ever. Writer on Hindi film music, Pankaj Raag, said that Hindi film music of yesteryear borrowed traditional bandishes. The famous song “Inhi Logon Ne” from the film Paakeezah is an example. The common thing these days is the use of Sufiana kalam. “Film music has become more eclectic and it is a welcome change,” he said.

Journalist and author Mrinal Pande pointed out to the fact that in music courses there is no study of literature. “The two are inherently related to each other and it is imperative that you know where your composers came from, what they are writing and who they are writing for? Literature is an important aspect of music, and it can hardly be glossed,” she argued. Speaking with remarkable clarity and evidence from treatises on music, she said oral tradition makes many claims, but it is hard to accept them as there is no evidence. “It is important to study tradition carefully. In the north, Sufi is trapped in the hands of the illiterate. They neither understand the spiritual compulsions of the Sufi sect nor do they understand Sufi poetry. Sufi music is in the hands of dangerous patrons,” she added. “There is a tameez for sahitya, and a tameez for sangeet, and one has to adhere to both.”

“Film music has to be analysed in its context and changes in society have always had its influences on composers,” said Pankaj Raag. “Rasa is the ultimate yardstick of music. Now music has become like mathematics. But ironically, even great discoveries and formulations in maths took place in moments of creative surge. Basic discipline is important, with it you can couple playfulness,” Mrinal Pande added.

Shubha Mudgal, yet again, stressed the importance of music education. “But it cannot be an uniform idea. You cannot teach Darbari and Malkauns in a general classroom. But music as a system of knowledge and discipline has to be disseminated,” she explained.

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