Sunday, 24 July 2011

Mahabharata. By Kamala Subramaniam

Mahabharata

Kamala Subramaniam

Bharathiya Vidya Bhavan, 15th Edition, Published 2009


This, as Subramaniam says in her foreword, is not a translation. It is an interpretation. (As indeed all versions of this epic are, except, maybe the original Sanskrit version. And even that, is there ONE version?) However, it appears to stay fairly true to the original, both in ideas and their expression. It is a better version than the one by Rajaji, unlikely to be bettered without straying too far in the direction of an entirely new creation. Subramaniam occasionally uses her own idiom. In particular she quotes from or refers to Shakespeare - apparently she was something of a Shakespearean scholar.  But on the whole she appears to try literal translations. Best of all, unlike Rajaji, she does not gloss over or rationalize the several nasty deeds performed by even the  best of the heroes. Mahabharata, unlike many other mythologies, has well developed three-dimensional characters, not just plastic heroes and villains.  Everybody is flawed in some way or the other, and everyone is noble, too. Yudhishthitra is held up as a symbol of all that corresponds to true Dharma. However there are several instances where he is shown crooked, or maybe just a stupid fool, at least seen in the light of today's understanding of what constitute righteous conduct. For example, how on earth could he gamble away his brothers, and his wife, and that when she does not even belong to him fully. Arjuna does evil things, or at least underhanded things, when he is desperate to win. Even Krishna is not quite above board. The epic itself comments on this in disapproval, occasionally. One of the very worst things, for me, that the Pandavas did was to induce six innocent 'lower caste' people to be burnt to death in their place in the house of lac in Varanavata. This is an episode described with actual approval in the epic, as indicating the smartness of the Pandavas in outwitting their enemies, not a single word of sympathy for the victims. There are of course several such occasions. In many instances, the narrative resorts to convoluted logic to justify the evil, and if even that is unconvincing, there is always the final, 'unanswerable' argument - fate/destiny. Sometimes though, as in the famous Gitopedesha, the final argument is 'duty'. 


[I have a question here. Are both these words and concepts simply translations or interpretations of the same sanskrit word 'karma'? I also make a digression here. The most quoted part of the Gita is the sloka which is commonly  translated as follows 'You have right only to do your duty, and never have a right to the fruits thereof'. This is reasonable piece of advice on how to live one's life, even in the present day. But a few questions arise immediately, indeed are raised by Arjuna. Firstly, how do I identify my duty? Krishna's answer in the Gita is that it depends on which caste and family you are born into - a brahmin seeks and assimilates knowledge/wisdom - mostly spiritual, (never fights or indulges in commerce - incidentally Drona, the acharya, is a kshatriya, not a brahmin), a kshatriya fights (no learning, at least not the religious/spiritual variety, and no commerce either), a vaishya does business (no learning, no fighting) and so on. Why is this correct? Because I, Krishna, say so. And why should I believe you? Because I am GOD? How do I know you are GOD? Here, see, this is my Viswavaroopa. Cool! Now I believe you, I will go and fight. Rather unsatisfactory to a rationalist. However, I think this particular sloka has great relevance to life today (and always) if we interpret it as follows. You have a right, an imperative even, to do what you believe is correct, to follow your passion, not because it leads to any particular fruits (in terms of wealth or material goods or even spiritual uplift), but because, and only because it IS your passion. In other words decide on your course of action at every point in you life not on the basis of what you might gain from that action, but because it is the right thing to do, because it is your duty, or because it is your passion. Of course, very often, in fact probably most of the time, such action could lead to material well being and other riches, but these fruits are not the aim of your action, and should not form the basis on which your undertake the actions]


Subramaniam gives a rather longish chapter to the Gita, and does a good job of summarizing the complex text. Likewise, Bishma, just before his death, after the war, explains many things about kingship and life to Yudhishthira, and again this is well summarized. About a third of the book is taken up with descriptions of the war. Apart from two or three chapters dedicated to the death of each of the heroes, there are many chapters with general descriptions of the 'action'. All descriptions are highly exaggerated with soldiers always dying in the thousands, and heroes single-handedly wiping out entire armies with rains of arrows. There are also descriptions of arrangement of armies in particular formations, such as the 'chakravyuha' formation that eventually kills Abhimanyu, son of Arjuna. But these descriptions are mere formalities, and it does not appear that whoever composed these parts had any knowledge of the war strategies as employed then, or if he did, then did not want to bore the audience with detailed and knowledgeable descriptions. On the other hand the idea seems to be to constantly evoke awe in the reader/listener. But the effect is ludicrous, with every hero described as the greatest, and the most noble, and the most honourable, and the strongest and the most skilled - always in superlatives. Seen as literature, therefore, the epic is probably to be classified with Greek epics and others (Chinese?) as 'primitive literature' in the words of Stephen Leacock. I quote "The classics are only primitive literature. They belong in the same class as primitive machinery and primitive music and primitive medicine" http://www.online-literature.com/stephen-leacock/behind-the-beyond/6/ . 


But the whole point about the Mahabharata (and the Ramayana) is to see them not as literature and to read them not as one would read say Salman Rushdie or John Le Carre, but to look at its meta-literature aspects. There is the idea that the two epics are religious texts, and must be treated is some sense as the word of God or 'true descriptions' of the deeds of Gods. In that case one must compare them with the Bible or the Koran, if at all one is to compare them with anything. But that may be much too fundamentalist, and again leads to absurdities, and ideas clearly out of tune with modern life. But look at them as treatises of philosophy, as codifications of ethical principles, as a crucial step in the social evolution of mankind. In that case much of the text makes sense. We simply ignore the exaggerations, forget about the contradictions, and look at the lessons one can take away. And there are many, many such. In fact the contradictions and the exaggerations actually focus attention on the underlying ethics. Reading these epics thus becomes an  elevating experience, giving one some idea of one's place in the world, the meaning of existence, in fact 'Life, the Universe, and Everything'. It is this aspect, really, that underlies, firstly the longevity of the texts, secondly the unique place they hold in the psyche of our nation, and thirdly, and most importantly, the hundreds upon hundreds of versions, interpretations, poems, films, dances, plays, teleserials, music, songs, etc. that have sprung up over the centuries from this epic. Looked at that way, the Mahabharata, in particular Subramaniam's version of it, is a brilliant read. However, the Sanskrit original should be even better.    

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