|
The novel moves with slow-paced
deliberation. Instead of action we have dialogue. Instead of
physical movement we have thought-provoking discussions. For
these reasons, it is not one of the quick reads that may be
accomplished in a few hours. The Final Question asks to
be accepted on its own terms: the reader has to make a conscious
effort, following the labyrinthine progress of its characters as
they interact among themselves.
And characters
there are in plenty. There is Ashu Babu who lives in a rambling
old house with his daughter Mani. There is also the affluent
Harendra who runs an ashram for brahmacharis. They are pivotal
figures in the closed Bengali circle of Agra. Others come and
go, among them the controversial Shibnath and Kamal. Ripples of
change are introduced into the placid calm and we see signs that
times are a-changing when harbingers of a new epoch enter the
scene. But, as in all phases of transition, change is not an
easy process. If there are some troubling the conservative
milieu with revolutionary ideas, there are also those who resist
all innovation and would rather exist in a limbo where
everything remains eternally the same.
Perhaps it is
the woman protagonist, Kamal, who is the most memorable of the
lot. Clearly, she is emancipated, much ahead of her times and
manages to jolt the polite Agra society out of its
complacencies. It is she who makes them (and also the reader)
take a second look at patriarchal norms that go unchallenged in
society, questioning traditions that have been followed blindly.
Upholding the banner of female emancipation, she lives by no
rules but her own, frequently changing partners, ripping apart
the fabric of social hypocrisy, flinging reality in the face of
orthodoxy. Kamal is the one who gives life to an otherwise
placid narrative, highlighting the problems of the individual in
relation to love and marriage, nationhood, society, and
womanhood.
Here, perhaps,
lies the answer to a very pertinent question that may confront
the reader: why was this novel, first published in 1931, not
translated earlier? We are aware that Saratchandra’s
popularity has been unflagging right from the beginning of his
career. Sesh Prasna, however, was an exception: widely
appreciated by women readers, the conservative (read male)
reader strongly disapproved of the avant garde ideas
presented through its heroine. Perhaps for this reason the novel
had to wait for 70-odd years to be available to the reader in
English.
Despite the
bold portrayal of its heroine, The Final Question is a
text which aims at mental stimulation rather than
rabble-rousing. Such a work must wait for the right point in
time to reach out to the world. Now that it is available to us
we have the double advantage of not only reading it in the
present but also in retrospect, surveying the changes that have
taken place in the socio-cultural history of the country over
the last century. It is against such a backdrop that the
prophetic overtones of the novel may be fully appreciated.
|