Book Review: Sunil Gangopadhyay delves into the strength of a woman

Book: Primal Woman

Author: Sunil Gangopadhyay (Translated by Aruna Chakravarti)

Publisher: Harper Perennial

Price: Rs 399

In the story that gives this collection of short stories its name, Primal Woman, we are introduced to the first woman to have walked this earth. She isn’t Eve, as the Bible says, but Lilith. The Maker had created her to complement Adam but as the days passed, Lilith realizes that she doesn’t want to follow his every command; she wants to be Adam’s equal. "Are my brains and senses inferior? Why, then, can we not be equal?" she asks. Adam, joined by three angels who, much like a conservative Indian family, gang up on her and scold her for being disobedient, going against the laws of nature and not doing her duty, i.e satisfying the needs of the male. When she refused, she is banished from the kingdom and forced to spend her life alone, while Adam is given a more submissive companion, Eve. 

Lilith could well be a contentious poster child of feminism with her strong will and desire to be equal. She stands for women who don’t have the privilege of choice, whose sole purpose is to ensure their man is happy, who were brought on earth to procreate, whose needs and desires don’t matter. Her story is being relived all over the country, especially what happens to a woman who dares speak out. 

There are different shades of a woman that are on display in Sunil Gangopadhyay’s Primal Woman. They are protectors, enablers, passionate in their beliefs and determined to make a difference. The women may be mistreated, abused, complete nags and sometimes just silly, but they each possess a vulnerability and strength that shines through in everything they do. They have a simple faith in their gods and in the goodness of their fellow human beings.

In the Night of the Angels, the beautiful, widowed Haseena works long, hard hours to feed  her three young children who, without any supervision have gone astray. People urge her to give them up as it will help her find a suitable husband but she refuses. She waits in hope for the night of the angels when a celestial being will come and change her destiny. In Not of this World, a pair of baul singers travel about with meager possessions, revelling in the beauty of Nature, their provider. The girl is kidnapped and raped, a fate she accepts philosophically, and not because she is afraid. She tells a confused policeman, “If one can think of one’s body as separate from oneself... if one can convince oneself of it, then no matter how grave the injury, how severe the torture, there is no pain. The body becomes a vessel. It feels nothing.” 

Surobala, the protagonist of Flesh, is a mother of three struggling to get her family a meal a day. Her husband is sick and cannot find work. In desperation, she decides to sell off the only thing she has left, herself. In A Peacock Feather, Tinni lives as the keep of a married man who rescues her from a brothel. She lives like a caged bird, unable to even open the windows in the house and yet she doesn’t blame god. Instead, she looks upon a young man in the next building as her savior, her god whom she christens Debota. In a poignant line at the end of the story, the author writes, “He was Tinni’s god but, like real gods, he had no time for suffering women like her.”

It’s the sheer power of conjuring up empathy for the characters in the book that makes Primal Woman worth reading. The 15 stories explore the different aspects and experiences wrought from poverty. The language is simple and fluid and the translation doesn’t take away from the descriptions of the forgotten by-lanes and villages of rural Calcutta, instead highlighting the vividness of the characters’ lives. It initially appears to be a depressing book about the daily struggle for survival. Yet the people in his stories aren’t to be pitied or sympathised with because they embrace their struggles with simplicity and determination. Haju in Shah Jahan and his Private Army, is a simpleton, plagued by bad luck and a family that hates him. He has no skills or talents, doesn’t like working preferring to spend his time in deep thought. He finally gets what he thinks is the ‘perfect’ job, standing guard at a men’s loo in a restaurant. On being teased as an emperor (he shares a name with Shah Jahan), he subconsciously embraces that identity even if his only followers are red ants. 

The poverty and the worthlessness of human life are seared into every story. Nameless tells of the bhaatuas, essentially slaves who worked in exchange for bhaat (boiled rice) and how much like a disease, the term passes down through the generations of a family. They have no homes, no households and because they aren’t valued much, they have no names. 

All the stories aren’t about poverty. Lontton Saheb’s Bungalow is about an old Englishman who refuses to vacate his bungalow that has been sold off to a zamindar. The Crossing is about a man who is forced to cross a bridge blindfolded while his captors bet on his survival. The Broken Bridge touches upon a villages’ reaction to a gay relationship, in the backdrop of a bridge that is never repaired and that ultimately ‘saves’ them from a tricky situation. 

Primal Woman showcases Gangopadhyay’s range of writing and his ability to delve  deep into the lives of people otherwise ignored in the larger subconscious.