Beyond the Verse - Contrasting Femininities: 'An Introduction' by Kamala Das
Episode Date: October 3, 2024In this episode of 'Beyond the Verse,' the official podcast of PoemAnalysis.com and Poetry+, podcast hosts Joe and Maiya delve into the poem 'An Introduction' by Kamala Das. They e...xplore the poem's themes of female liberation, colonial oppression, and the importance of language, contextualizing Das's 1965 work as a pivotal moment in Indian literature. They touch on Kamala Das's background as an Anglo-Indian poet during the end of British colonial rule in India, her impact on Indian feminism, and her status as a major confessional poet alongside figures like Sylvia Plath. Get exclusive PDFs on ‘An Introduction’ available to Poetry+ users:Full PDF GuidePoetry Snapshot PDFFor more insights into Das' poetry, visit PoemAnalysis.com, where you can explore a wide range of analyzed poems, with thousands of PDFs, resources in our extensive PDF Learning Library, and more - see our Kamala Das PDF Guide.The podcast also examines the poem's structure and language, noting its use of free verse and deliberate grammatical choices to counter traditional norms, aligning with the confessional movement's focus on personal and taboo subject matter. Joe and Maiya highlight Das's nuanced use of English to convey identity complexity, discussing its significance in a post-colonial context. The episode also explores references to literary inspirations like Langston Hughes and Walt Whitman, examining how Das's poem dialogues with these writers in her closing lines. This episode invites listeners to reflect on the deep contrasts presented within the poem and Das's portrayal of a multifaceted feminine identity.Send us a textSupport the showAs always, for the ultimate poetry experience, join Poetry+ and explore all things poetry at PoemAnalysis.com.
Transcript
Discussion (0)
Why not let me speak in any language I like?
The language I speak becomes mine, its distortions, its queernesses, all mine, mine alone.
Welcome to Beyond the Verse with me, Joe and my co-host, Maya.
Today we're going to be discussing the poem, an introduction by Kamala Das,
and some of its many and complex themes, including female liberation,
colonial oppression and the importance of language.
And thank you so much, Maya, for reading some of the lines from the poem.
I mean, I can't wait to get into this discussion with you.
And first of all, before we talk about the poem itself,
tell us a little bit about Das, her career to this stage
and where she is in her life when this poem was released in 1965.
Well, thanks, Joe.
So Kamala Das is an Anglo-Indian poet and novelist.
She was born in 1934 and died in 2009.
So this is incredibly important in terms of the time period in which Das lived through.
She wrote during a period of massive upheaval, looking at the end of British colonial rule in India.
So we will touch on this later in the podcast.
She wrote some of her most popular works in her home state of Kerala, applauded for its unrelenting portrayal of female sexuality, shame, power.
And she is now known as one of India's leading confessional poets, which I like Joe, you want to talk about a little bit.
later on. Her work was also instrumental in helping to establish Indian feminism as it stands today.
Now, this poem, an introduction, is from her first collection, Summer in Calcutta, which is written
in 1965. It broke away from a huge tradition in Indian poetry of rhyme, of traditional romantic
ideals, and it actually took the form of free verse. Now, I love this poem. I can't wait to get
into it. So, Joe, where would you like to start?
Thanks, Maya. I think I'd like to start.
start with the title. And I would really implore listeners who haven't already to make sure you go
and read the poem because you use the word Relentless Meyer. And I think there is a kind of
pulsing energy to this poem that runs all the way through it. And the thing I love about that
title is how poorly it sets the reader up for the poem that they're about to read. Because when I
think of an introduction, whether that's to an essay or kind of an introduction to a person as this
poem functions as, it tends to be something that's going to ease you in. It tends to be something
it's meant to be polite, meant to be even a little bit sort of pedestrian before you get to the meat of, whether it's an essay or an argument or whatever kind of introduction it is. And I find that that title is really disarming for a poem like this, which is relentless, which is unapologetic, which is really pulsating. I mean, I don't know what you think about this, Maya, but I just find that that title leaves you completely wrong-footed, given that you're about to read. Absolutely. It's one of those poems that every time I see that title, I just think you can substitute any sort of,
sort of theme from the poem, an introduction to politics, an introduction to femininity, an introduction
to me. And you would be correct on all counts, but it also wouldn't encapsulate all of the
themes that this poem is talking about. So you're right. I think it's a disarmingly simplistic
title to use, but I think it does such a great job of bringing the reader into this poem comfortably
and immediately creating a sense of tension. Definitely. And definitely. And
I'd just like to read the opening lines to the poem, and I'd love to get your thoughts on them, Maya.
So the poem begins, I don't know politics, but I know the names of those in power
and can repeat them like days of the week or names of the months, beginning with Nehru.
Now, for listeners who aren't aware, Nehru, refers to the first prime minister that India had
post-British rule.
So India gained independence in 1947, and Nehru served as their first prime minister after that.
Now, again, I find this is a brilliant call back to the title,
because what that word beginning with relation to beginning with Nehru signifies to me is that
the Indian story begins at 1947, the independence is not merely a change in the country,
but almost the birth of a new country.
And I absolutely love the subtlety with which that point is delivered.
And we can talk later on about the powerful nature of the first person voice,
but what do you think about these opening lines, Myron?
And kind of how does it set the reader up for the rest of the poem?
I think it's a very fair thing to bring up this word beginning.
Now evidently, Das using this as a starting point
is not just important in a political sense,
but with literature as well,
she's positioning herself immediately as a post-colonial poet.
Now that has repercussions throughout her later work,
but given that this is her first collection,
it really stands out to me as a setting apart.
Obviously, I mentioned before
that she not only broke away from,
traditional poetic forms, but to also stand up in her introduction and say, I am setting myself
apart from all of this history that came before me and beginning again fresh, offers her
speaker a real sense of power in this poem, I think. But what do you think, Joe?
One of the things I find really interesting about those lines is the way in which they
subtly introduce one of the key themes, which is going to be language. Now, the way in which
they do that is by positioning the names of those who hold political power as simply things
that the narrator has learned and memorized. Almost the way in which it's presented, days of the week,
names of the month. It almost suggests that it's something they've had to learn and it's something
they can simply regurgitate, much like you might learn a poem in school, especially if you were
taught, you know, in the 20th century education now tends to work a little bit differently. As Maya
mentioned at the top of the episode, this poem is taken from the 1965 collection, Summer in Calcutta.
Alcatta is the anglicised version of the original name for the city, which is Kolkata,
and both versions are now used commonly in India.
And again, what you get that sense of is that Das' narrator is regurgitating the names that she has been given.
There is a sense that language is something she has been handed,
and she has sort of mastered the ability to hand it back,
that notion of the list of days and weeks and months.
And I find that to be really interesting because what we're going to see later on the poem
is a far more active relationship with language.
At the moment, that relationship seems really passive,
something that she can simply repeat,
but it doesn't feel like the words truly belong to her.
And that notion of a language that functions as the embodiment of who you are
is something we're going to talk about later on.
But that's one of the things I find really interesting about these lines.
I don't know if you've got anything to add on that.
Absolutely.
Now, one of the things we touched on briefly was the way in which you're eased into this poem.
and it can come across, I think, in your first readings, as quite soft.
It's interesting that you mention the way in which you're taught in school
as if you're just trying to regurgitate these things,
but you're not actually taking them on.
The way Das' speaker relates this kind of critical information about herself
comes across very, very passive, very disinterested.
I am Indian, very brown, born in Malabar, I speak three languages,
right into Dreaming One.
It's very mechanical and it does come across as if the speaker is almost detached from their sense of self,
which I believe as you go through the poem evidently becomes increasingly more important
because Das' speaker becomes more embodied in their sense of self.
So that sense of mechanisation is one that has always struck me as quite interesting
because you really witness this sense of detachment from Das' sense of self.
So to explore one's sense of being in what the poem is meant to be, an introduction to Kamala,
an introduction to the speaker, to actually have that sense of separation at the start is really fascinating to me.
I love that point. And those lines for me are just a brilliant example of Dasa, her very best at this poem.
And I just like to touch on a couple of things.
The first one is that, and again, it comes back to the title and introduction.
When you are introduced to a person, you are not expecting to immediately,
hear personal details or anything particularly sort of private about them.
And yet already within five or six lines, we get into dreams.
We get into a version of Das that is far more introspective,
which is almost as though we peel back the layers and each layer is represented by a language.
And I mentioned earlier on that the way she describes language in the early lines of the poem
feel quite removed, feel quite dispassionate, feel quite rehearsed.
And what we get then is that sort of unraveling, the three languages with which she speaks,
the two with which she writes, and the one in which she dreams.
And that last sign in particular suggests to me that there is a kind of inner voice,
which we might view as Das' true voice, that is then funneled through or filtered through
the learned behavior that she is acquired.
And of course, Das is positioning herself as a post-colonial voice and the significance about
the decision to write in English as a post-colonial.
colonial writer was not one that Das took lightly. In these lines is the earliest suggestion
in the poem that there was almost like a true voice within her that in order to access you
need to go through and unpick languages in voices that she has learned and been taught over the
years. I do feel as if you don't discover that just through the language or just through
the form, but if you look at the very specific content, you're not told that the speaker,
is Kamala until way past halfway through the poem. You don't actually get the mention of that
name. Now, when you think of an introduction, one of the first things that you do as a human
is say, hello, my name is. And with this poem, you don't get that. You have politics, you have
language, you have sexuality, you have marriage, you have all of these huge life-altering
things that come before the specific person that the speaker is, the name, the time, the time,
them to their sense of self.
It's critical, I think, in this poem
that Kamala self-introduces
past halfway through
because really, after that point,
I think is where you see the true
vivid beauty of this poem
and how Kamala decides to self-describe.
And obviously, I'm sure we'll talk about that
a little bit later in this episode
as how that splits that halfway mark.
That goes back to the point I was making earlier on
about the title being disarming,
because, as you say, when you read the title and introduction, you think you know what you're about to get,
because we've all been introduced to people before.
And the first thing you get is a name and perhaps cursory external information.
The thing that's brilliant about this poem is the introduction that we get is far more personal from the off.
And it's almost as though the external details like a name only come once you really understand the person you're being introduced to on a really deep, meaningful level.
So I think it's a fascinating relationship between the expectations the read,
has around what an introduction means versus the best way to actually be introduced to who a person
is and what they represent. So just after those lines, the poem goes on to say, don't write
in English, they said. English is not your mother tongue. And I'm fascinated by that word
they, because there is no suggestion about who these people are precisely other than the fact
that they fulfil a kind of adversarial presence in the poem. They serve to criticise the
narrator. And, Maya, I'd love to get your thoughts on who these people may be. Does it matter who
they are? Are they a kind of composite? And how do they help refine the voice in opposition?
You know, I think they are both incredibly individual and composite at the same time. I know that
sounds like a coppa answer, but I will explain myself. I think when you look at a mention of they,
obviously in many senses it does serve out of the complete opposition to an eye, especially
given we've had this voice from Kamala slash the speaker saying, I am this. I speak this.
You have a very, very powerful first person voice. So when you are introduced to a slightly
more abstract they, even though Kamala follows up and says, you know, why not leave me alone,
critics, friends, visiting cousins, every one of you, to lump all of these very distinct
personalities into one composite day is, I think, a really interesting choice.
Because not only does it really serve to further isolate the eye of the poem, removing them from not only poetic criticism, from friends, from intimate family connections, but it also serves to really strengthen the adversarial voice from the speaker, I personally find.
You know, we've just been talking about how those opening lines are slightly dismissive, slightly passive, and you're not really introduced.
to a character that is incredibly powerful.
It does feel like the speaker is just reciting basic facts.
To then suddenly move on to this very accusatory voice,
you get nothing but a strong sense of self.
So it's a really interesting contrast,
both in the voice of the poem,
switching from something that is passive
to something that is arguably aggressive
to also contrasting a they and an eye.
And I'd love to know your thoughts on it.
I'd just like to linger on that word,
critics for a moment. Because I think this is a brilliant example of the confidence of this
voice coming through. You're absolutely right. This is the first moment in which the voice
really becomes unapologetically passionate. Before that, there was a sense of pacificity.
What we get here is something very, very different. And the thing that I think is really interesting
is that, as you mentioned, that's his first collection. So the idea that she would have literary
critics is perhaps untrue, right? Because what would they be criticizing? So what that suggests
as two things. On the one hand, she's referring to people who might disagree with her in her
personal life as critics, which I think we can all agree is a fairly grandiose way of describing
people who perhaps you just don't get along with. So I love the fact that on the one hand,
you could read that as her just elevating people who don't like her. Or, and this is perhaps
the stronger interpretation, what Das is doing there is she is preempting the fact that there will
be literary critics in the future. There will be those who regard this work as inappropriate
or wrong or going above her station in some way.
And I love that fact that these critics may not have existed at the point this poem was written,
but she is so confident in what she's doing.
She's so confident that not only are people going to read these poems,
but they're going to annoy some people, they're going to challenge some people,
that she feels confident enough to list critics in this list of potential sort of detractors.
I love that sense of confidence in the voice.
Just to jump off the back of that, one of the things,
that I love about this poem is this poem is about unapologetic femininity.
Now, as a female reader, one of the things that will crop up a lot of the time is that
women in literature, you know, historically, are made to feel quite small, then reduced,
and they often aren't afforded the power of the lyric eye.
This is something that crops up time and time again.
In this section, and I'd like to root back just to the opening lines that I read at the start of this episode, let's just note how many times Kamala notes, mine, I or me.
Why not leave me alone, critics, friends, visiting cousins, every one of you?
Why not let me speak in any language I like?
The language I speak becomes mine, its distortions, its queernesses, all mine, mine alone.
And I think that is just one of the.
most outspoken and bold and brave ways to open what is an assertive poem?
I couldn't agree more, and I think that use of the first person still feels disarming
to us as modern readers.
That use of the word I is imbued with power, imbued with agency, and it's really affecting.
It brings me on to one of the things I find really interesting about this poem, but also
Das' career more broadly, and that is her status as one of sort of the 20th century's
premier confessional poets.
Now, for listeners who aren't aware, and I would implore any listeners who are not
already Poetry Plus subscribers to get a Poetry Plus membership and make sure that you go
and check out the extensive PDFs on confessionalism in the PDFs learning library.
But plug aside, basic confessionism refers to a literary movement that came to prominence
in the late 50s and early 60s that emphasized a few things.
One, the idea of pouring your own life into your poetry in a far more explicit way, especially
when it comes to dealing with subject matter that had previously been a taboo.
So confessionalist poetry often deals with themes like mental health, suicide, drug addiction, abortion, sex.
And these things we might think of as being commonplace in art now, but they really, really weren't at the time.
And perhaps the most famous confessionalist poet is Sylvia Plath, whose collection Ariel was published posthumously in the same year as Das' collection, summer in Calcutta.
Now, I'd love to get your thoughts on this mind.
And we spoke about the importance of literary movements in a question time episode a couple of episodes ago.
So listeners who haven't already, make sure you go check out that episode.
But we tend to think of movements as being these really concentrated hubs of activity where people are in a room together, sharing ideas.
And yet, Kamala Das wasn't in Boston University with the likes of Anne Sexton, Robert Lowell, Sylvia Plath discussing these ideas.
But her poetry in this poem as well contains really clear reminders.
of that tradition. I find it really fascinating how strong the confessional thread in her
work is. So what I'd like to know from you, and it's a big question, so apologies for asking
it, but are we overstating the importance of those geographical locations when it comes to
poetic movements? And, you know, what is it do you think about this moment that meant that
poets across the world were turning to a much more personal, much more intense confessional
style at the same time, even if they have no personal contact with one another?
It is a very big question, and I of course have my opinion, and there will be a hundred
people out there who will probably contest my opinion. So I will give you my very honest,
very straight up answer. There are two schools of thought, I think, with this, in that
you can either believe that a poetic movement is all-encompassing and dictates every piece of
work that comes out of it, whether it's fitting perfectly within that genre or not because
you're writing within that time. Or you can use it as a framework. Now with Das and her position
as one of the, as you said, premier confessional poets of the time, yes, she wasn't in those spaces
in Boston University. Yes, she wasn't part of those conversations. However, I think we would
be remiss if we didn't address the fact that she was writing out of a time of immense change.
The end of colonial rule, I don't doubt for a second, for poets, for artists, for writers,
brought about a huge line of questioning that naturally did drive people to be slightly more introverted,
slightly more self-concerned, addressing wider, as we see in this poem, political sentiment
from a very personal level.
So do I think we pay too much attention to movement?
No.
But I think it is worth noting that though Kamala Das is a confessional poet,
I personally don't believe that she should technically be kept within that school of American confessionalism
because they were born out of very different reasons.
And yes, it was the same time, but you're looking geographically at two very distinct areas.
So I don't know.
What do you think, Joe?
Well, first and foremost, I think that was really, really fascinating.
And I guess it touches on something I find really interesting, broadly speaking, in art.
And, you know, it comes back to this idea of kind of where artistic inspiration comes from.
And actually, examples like this sort of lead me to conclude that artistic movements are not creating their channeling something.
There is something about this period, obviously.
if we're thinking about global history, it's a post-war period, it's a period of immense social
change. But clearly, I think there is something about this particular historical moment that
is calling for a more introspective, more personal form of poetic expression. We don't have time
in this episode to flesh out what those things could be. I don't know whether it's something
about the beginnings of globalization or perhaps poets and artists are looking for ways
to assert their own personality in an increasingly homogenous world. I just think it's
a really interesting way of looking at a poetic movement to ask yourself, well, what were other
writers or artists in a completely different geographical location doing at this moment? And actually,
when we do that, oftentimes we realize that the movement is channeling something sort of
in the zeitgeist rather than creating another thin air. And I do think it's worth touching on
the fact as well, you know, maybe slightly in contrast to what I was arguing just a few moments ago,
is that just because poets are in different geographical locations,
that doesn't mean that they're not going to have read at least one poem by a poet
who was writing from Boston University in America.
You know, it's very easy for us to say,
oh, well, you know, Kamala Das would have been reading maybe primarily Carolyn Indian literature,
but also if you look at her background and her class,
it's highly likely that she was educated to a certain level.
She had access to historic American, British poets.
She likely would have read around.
And I think in a lot of these instances,
it's one of the things you actually said in one of our earlier Q&A episodes,
is that one of the reasons you love poetry
is because you can take a poem or a poet's work
and track history just through that.
You don't need any context.
So for Das' work, I wouldn't be surprised if she'd have read
a few initial poems from Robert Lowell, for example,
and seeing confessionalism start to come into its own,
start to be born.
You know, these things don't just appear out of thin air.
Absolutely.
And poetic movements in sort of the traditional sense
offer a space for collaboration and challenge from your contemporaries.
And it's worth remembering that Das had a sort of really rich literary upbringing.
Her mother was a writer, her great uncle had been a writer.
So she was surrounded by people.
who were willing and happy to have artistic conversations
to challenge each other,
to reflect upon each other's work.
So a lot of that kind of collaborative experience,
I imagine she would have been getting, you know,
in her own home, let alone out in the world.
And I do love that idea as well
that one of the central themes she touches on in this poem,
she argues that language is as useful to me
as cawing is to crows or roaring to the lions.
these huge, bold affirmations from the animal kingdom,
she translates those in a way that is just so impressive to me, I think.
I completely agree.
I just like to touch on those specific descriptions
and the use of those similes to liken her speech to the noises made by animals.
I think it's interesting call back to the earlier reference
to the three languages and the two languages
and the single language in which Das dreams.
Because obviously, I mean, if you take the example of a language,
lion roaring, that's the sound a lion makes. A lion will learn to roar if it's raised in the
wild or if it's in a zoo anywhere on earth. That is the innate noise associated with the animal.
And by likening her voice to a sound like roaring, what she's saying is it doesn't matter which
language I choose to express myself in. The expression is innately mine. And if you take a look at
this poem as well and the way in which it structured, DAF shows a great amount of technical
skill, I think, because she moves from trying to make the reader understand that, you know,
this very simple idea that my voice is my voice. Yes, absolutely, and she carries that across.
But she moves from it voices, my joys, my longings, these very complex emotions to the animal
kingdom. She moves to the roaring of the lions, the coring of the crows. These are slightly more
simple ideas to grasp. You know, the average human will have likely heard what a lion sounds like.
what a crow sounds like. She then moves to an even simpler idea. The deaf-blind speech of
trees in storm or of monsoon clouds or of rain or the incoherent mutterings of the blazing
funeral pyre. She uses elemental sights and sounds, things that are innately built into our
human ecosystems, our ability to understand that fire is hot and dangerous, are understanding that
the way that the trees blow in the wind means a storm might be coming.
She really simplifies this idea by presenting you with something complex and then drawing it back
and making it even more innate to your sense of self.
I think that is so technically proficient and really demonstrates her understanding of
not only what it means for her to be human or her speaker to be human,
but also shows an understanding for every reader that is also experiencing these emotions as well.
But for now, let's go to a break.
Now, we know that one of the things our listeners love about Beyond the Verse
is the way which Myra and I freely move from one subject to another talking about technical moments in a poem
and then spanning out to think about big ideas, literary movements and historical context.
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Now for the second half of this podcast, I think it's really important that we move on to one of
the central themes in Kamala Das's poet. One of the things she touches on is what it means to be a woman
and the construction of that femininity.
Now, one particular area of this poem that I really interested in
is the language of gross and the language of shrinking.
Now, there is a line in this poem that I think is one of the most emotive,
and I think especially as a female reader.
The weight of my breasts and womb crushed me, I shrank pitifully.
This follows a line that says,
My sad woman body felt so beaten.
Now you look at language like this and it's aching and it is absolutely heartbreaking.
But one of the things I'd really like to touch on here is that lack of individualisation.
Now here it is important to know we still haven't been introduced to Kamala.
We haven't been introduced to the speaker.
We don't know who this is.
All we know is the way in which they have introduced themselves and the fact that this speaker
has a female body. Now, the female body throughout literature, throughout history, has been
politicised for centuries. In this poem, Das uses the female body as an exploration of what it is
to be oppressed. I think this links in politically. I think it also links in generally to the
exploitation of women throughout history. But I would really love to know your thoughts, Joe,
on how Kamala introduces this almost childlike figure, this young woman who is oppressed by
a marriage she's unhappy in, oppressed by her new and changing physique,
oppressed by the fact that she feels she has to fill a role,
and how she uses language to really explore that.
Well, I think that point you make about filling a role is a thing that really chimes with me,
because obviously there are various ways that she could have expressed
the pressure of a female body, but the two that she chooses to focus on are breasts and womb,
and the way in which those two aspects of woman's body have,
symbolically been associated with expectations that have been placed upon women, obviously
breasts associated with breastfeeding and the womb obviously with childbearing. It's the
expectations of womanhood that weigh so heavily on her. I think more perhaps than the physical
changes that she's going through themselves. I think it's the way in which parts of a woman's
body can become kind of weighted with expectations placed on them by men rather than
taken on willingly is the thing that really chimes with me.
And to be very technical about it, one of the things attributed so often to women in this period is that they were simply there to bear children.
They were simply there to get pregnant, to bear children, and to be caregivers.
Now, I think it's fascinating that Kamala Das explores swelling and growing in a physical sense,
but that actually contributing to making her speaker or herself feel that much smaller and that much less as a human.
Because it naturally sits in opposition, really, to all of the things that women were told to be at the time.
Not only is this poem pro-feminist, but it is also a really, really bold move from Kamala Das
to actually condemn so many of the expectations that were set on women by men at the time.
Yeah, just to jump in on that point about the limb swelling, because that is a common side effect, of course, of pregnancy.
And I love that point you made about the way in which the body physically grows, and yet that process of contraction is almost suggesting that if and when Das' speaker were to become pregnant, she would feel like she was less of herself.
It's almost like the act of becoming a pregnant woman and then a mother would lessen her as an individual.
And that really fascinating contrast between personal desire, ambition, you know, this powerful and assertive voice that we've mentioned,
which it seems to be incompatible with the expectations of motherhood that have been placed upon her.
One section that really stands out to me in this poem, and I say section, given that, you know, this is a free verse poem, there are no stanzas, it is written all in one kind of almost a stream of consciousness.
There is a certain set of instructions that Das refers to.
Dress in saris, be girl, be wife, they said.
be embroiderer, be cook, be a quarreler with servants.
Now, I'd really like to point out,
be a quarreler with servants, grammatically correct English.
Be girl, be wife.
Not only does that take away grammatically,
the individualisation of a girl, a wife, an embroiderer, a cook.
But it further removes that sense of individual femininity from the speaker.
she is not expected to just be a girl, she is expected to be girl, just the most basic version of herself.
There is no complexity there.
And Joe, I know you wanted to touch on language, and this is one of the pivotal points at which I think language plays a huge part in the influence and understanding of this poem.
So please tell us more.
I'd love to, and as we mentioned earlier on, Das was very well educated.
she was well-versed in the English language.
So any errors grammatically that she makes are absolutely deliberate.
And that's a really important thing to note.
And I'd just like to introduce listeners who might not be aware
to kind of some of the richness of the debate that exists around language,
especially in a post-colonial context,
because there is a bit of a divide amongst post-colonial writers and scholars
about whether or not you should be writing in native languages
or in the language of the coloniser.
So obviously this is fraught with potential complications,
especially given the fact that in the case of the language like English,
which spread around the world due to the prominence of the British Empire,
if writers from former British colonies decide to write in English,
it's far more likely they're able to sell their work abroad,
and it's far more sort of commercially viable.
So that obviously plays into it.
But in terms of the artistic debate,
I think it's a fascinating one.
And we could talk about this for hours,
but I'm just going to touch upon a couple of key voices,
is just to illustrate the debate that this poem is kind of existing within
and which Kamala Das' voice is commenting upon.
The first voice will be somebody that many of our listeners will be familiar with
because it's the writer Salman Rushdie,
who obviously is one of the favourites for the Nobel Prize,
a very, very famous novelist.
And in his 1992 essay, imaginary homelands, he claimed, quote,
we cannot simply use the language of the British.
It needs remaking for its own purposes.
And that, I think, is exactly what Das is doing in that line where she deliberately misuses the grammar that Maya just mentioned.
Because what it does is it creates a sense that girl is a permanent binary state of being and that there is no variation within that demographic, that a girl is every girl.
And I think the deliberate misuse of the grammar there is a really fascinating way in which Das is able to make the English language work for her, as opposed to sort of just be a tool that she's been given.
And it's in sharp contrast to the kind of rehearsed language that we spoke about at the top of the episode and those opening lines.
This is her using language in the way that she wants to rather than merely regurgitating language as she's been taught.
Just in case any listeners are interested in the other side of that debate, because it is, you know, an ongoing conversation, a really interesting one if anybody wants to do some further reading.
I would direct them to the work of Gugiwa Piongo, especially his 1986 book, Decolonizing the Mind, which he called his farewell to English.
And he is a Kenyan writer who originally wrote in English before moving away and writing in native languages.
And his reasons for doing so are really, really interesting.
So this debate is very much still live in the post-colonial sort of arena.
And Das' poem is sort of right in the middle of that.
Even back in 1965, these conversations were just emerging.
A lot of the post-colonial scholarship came a little bit later in the 80s.
Again, if any listeners are interested in extra reading, they could check out Candacea Boulton-Speaks, the 1988 essay.
the brilliantly titled The Empire Rights Back, which is 1989 for any Star Wars fans out there.
And I think that what Das is doing in this poem is taking an original view on that argument.
But, I mean, I'd love to get your thoughts on this and anything you'd like to add in this conversation
because it's absolutely fascinating, very complex, but a really rich source of discussion, I think.
I mean, that's really insightful.
So thank you, Joe.
And those are some great recommendations as well.
I think it's one of those conversations that we touch on quite a lot, you know, when we record the podcast and I know spoken about it in some of our previous episodes, but as a poet, you can either write within the bounds of a tradition or you can write against that tradition.
And I think for post-colonial writers in particular, they're placed in a really difficult position in which, in order to be commercially viable, as you said, there is a demand for English language literature.
But I would argue, just as you have to pull back or fight back against certain political colonial insertions into the way in which you run your government, for example, with writing, a lot of the time, I do believe that post-colonial writers have to employ the oppressive language in order to deconstruct it.
It's a very difficult thing to write back against a tradition without using the language of that tradition.
and I think that's what Das does so brilliantly in this poem is that she not only writes
in English language, but she is dexterous with it.
She has an incredible grasp of metaphor and imagery and tactility with this language.
Das is writing from a country that was colonised by the British for nearly 100 years.
It blows my mind that there are people.
people who believe that second language writers don't have the dexterity with language that
mother tongue writers do, because Das is a perfect example of how poets can use colonial language
to deconstruct colonial thought. I couldn't agree more. I think it's fascinating that
this collection is released just 18 years after the end of British rule in India. And
that adversarial they that we mentioned earlier on, I think shows how quickly
that kind of attitude seeped into society about rejecting all things that had come from empire.
And her kind of refusal to do that is in many ways an act of liberation,
even though it's choosing the language of the colonizer.
It's a really interesting kind of parallel because if you are choosing the language that was
forced upon you, is that an act of oppression or an act of liberation?
Because it's your choice, but it's a language that people before you didn't have a choice,
they were forced to learn.
And that kind of reclamation, I think, is really interesting
and just a really nuanced example of what Das is doing in this poem.
One of the things I mentioned earlier as well was that this poem is very often read
as a sort of confessional stream of consciousness poem.
But let's look at the caesura in this poem.
There are moments in which Das pulls back.
There are moments in which she pauses and takes a breath that is so much more intentional
To me, this shows that not only is she, yes, assertive and angry and upset and exploring all of these emotions in this very open way, but she is also taking moments of consideration too.
This is not a rant. This is not something that has just spilled from her in a completely uncontrolled manner.
There is a sense of control and break.
And I almost get the sense that the poet and the speaker are, yes, one and the same may be here, but taking a step back and saying, how do I want to continue?
How do I want to further prove the point that I'm trying to make here?
And that to me makes this poem so much more intentional.
But Joe, what do you think?
Well, it's one of those fascinating moments in which the way a poem is performed could really change my view on this.
Because I actually, and we spoke about this before the podcast, but I had a science.
slightly different interpretation of some of those moments of says you are because to my mind,
if this was somebody sort of taking a pause to reflect, it might be more appropriate to use
end-stop lines. For me, the punctuation breaks in the middle of those lines do speak to a slightly
breathless quality, perhaps a voice that is not sure what it's going to say next, but is
desperate to sort of keep going. And I think that really lends the voice a sense of urgency,
this sense that they can't, they haven't planned what they're going to say. It's pouring forth from them
and those sort of unexpected pauses in the middle of the lines
are representative of a really breathless poetic voice.
But, I mean, what do you think about that?
Am I miles off there?
One thing that Das, I think, does exceedingly well
is explore masculinity and femininity in very contrasted terms.
And it's really interesting to me that I think from our maybe biased readings,
we pick up on entirely different points within that.
So the line that I'd really like to focus on,
is where Das is discussing a man and a woman in love
and how the man is the hungry haste of rivers
and the woman is the ocean's tireless waiting.
Now she contrasts male and female, the masculine and feminine,
with a sense of urgency and patience.
This is a really critical contrast.
So I think it's really interesting that we've come at this poem
from where I would look at that as a sense of pause and a sense of quiet,
and you've explored it as something that has more urgency.
Do you think that has anything to do with our readings?
Do you think that's how Das intended it?
I mean, I guess we'll never know.
And that, I mean, that's okay.
And again, listeners should remember that both interpretations can be right
and they can exist in the same world.
And that's one of the great things about discussing poetry.
But, I mean, I would love, I don't know if there are any recordings out there
of Das having read this poem, but if any listeners are aware, please do get in touch with us
at beyond the verse at pomeanalysis.com. And if you have questions you'd like us to answer about
Das, about any other poems that we've discussed or we haven't discussed yet, poetry plus members
will have their questions prioritised in question episodes. So sign up for a membership now. But I do
think that that point around contrast and, you know, very fitting given we've just offered
contrasting interpretations of the same thing. But also the contrast within the poem is something that
get stronger as the poem goes on.
The poem concludes with this series of very explicit contrasts,
and I'll just read a couple of examples to the listeners who haven't got the perm in front of them,
but the perm ends with, I am the thinner, I am the saint, I am the beloved, and the betrayed.
And there's a couple of lines after that, but those very explicit juxtapositions, I think, are really fascinating,
because unlike the example you gave with the river and the ocean,
of which were contrasting male and feminine figures,
these are internal contrasts.
These are internal contradictions.
And I think that speaks to something
that runs right the way through this poem,
which is the conflict between the imagined sort of mother
that Das might one day become
and the independent, fierce figure
that she wants to be in this moment.
It contrasts with the speaker in English
with the sort of consistent internal voice.
And the way the poem concludes implies
that she's able to sort of hold these opposites intention with one another.
Without that consuming her, I think it's a really fascinating place to sort of conclude the poem.
And I'd love to get your thoughts on it.
Well, it really feeds into that individualisation piece that we were discussing earlier.
It really speaks to the fact that Das is making the woman in this poem, herself, her speaker, central and complex.
I think every contrast she uses adds another layer to the center of the poem that is the woman.
And I really love how Das closes this poem.
I think it's really beautiful.
And just to reference again, the ocean's tireless waiting and the hungry haste of rivers,
the masculine individual in this poem is not named either.
They are completely decentralized, not only so,
but they are the river rushing towards the ocean,
that is Das.
She is creating breadth and scale
in the complex individual.
She is dismissing the stereotypes
and creating a whole new complex sense of self
and I just love this sense
that everything is rushing into this central idea
and this central character.
I think it's stunning visually,
but I think formally just shows so much talent.
Definitely.
And I've just called back to that earlier line
that we spoke about,
B girl and the absence of the A there homogenising what a girl is, making every girl
synonymous with every other. These lines really stand in contrast to that because here you
have one individual woman who is able to hold all of these contradictions within her.
The nuance, the complexity of that individual stands in complete contrast to the kind of
one-note form of femininity that other people expect her to present. And I just think that
tension, both between her and the expectations upon her, but also within the voice itself
are examples of Das and, you know, of a poet at their very best. I mean, it really is a phenomenal
way to end the poem. As I mentioned, those lines come just before the end of the poem, but I just
like to read those final two lines. I have no joys that are not yours. No aches, which are not
yours, I too call myself I. And I know, Maya, that you want to touch on that last line in
particular, so take it away. I mean, first, I will obviously give a brief analysis of my
interpretation of these lines. So that I have no joys which are not yours, no aches, which are not
yours, is really pivotal because what Das is saying here is that the masculine, the male that
has always been centralised in literature, in history.
This female speaker suffers just the same.
They suffer the same complexities of identity.
And yes, they endure the same pains and aches
and really explore what it means to be a person,
not defined by gender or history or power or class.
But yes, you are right.
I would like to focus on those last lines.
And this is something Joe and I actually debated
a little bit at length before this.
this podcast, which is, do we think Das was inspired or at least drew some inspiration from
Langston Hughes's poem, I, too.
For any listeners who know Langston Hughes or know this poem specifically will know that
the final line, I to Am America, is one of the most enduringly powerful in modern
literature, in my view.
But it summarizes this argument that Hughes was trying to make, which is in defiance of
racial segregation, racial difference. And though Das' poem evidently comes from a very different
geographical location, you know, you're looking at a vast difference between what was the
subjugation and abuse of black people in America to the subjugation of colonial India by
the British. But they do strike at two very similar themes in the sense that these poems
are both proofs. They are individuals saying, I am not.
just this one thing that you believe I am. I am me. I am complex. I am all of these things
rolled into one and I am also allowed to speak alongside you. Both of these poems make a very,
very big literary statement at the time because they take part, as we were discussing earlier,
in writing against a tradition. Now, I truly believe in my heart of hearts that Kamala Das
must have been influenced by this poem and Joe, I'd love to know your thoughts on it,
is I would hate for you to disagree with me here.
No, I think I absolutely agree.
And I think that word, too, is the crucial one
because that word acknowledges the fact that that is in dialogue with someone.
Now, who that is exactly is unclear.
I think Langston Hughes is a perfectly good candidate.
But I think on some ways, that word asserts this poem in a tradition
or perhaps against tradition, as we've said,
of male writers focusing on the complexity of what it means to be an individual.
You know, these are a kind of fairly commonly held poetic trope, which is male poets contending with the fact that their inner feelings are often contradictory.
So the person I sort of was thinking of when I read this line was Walt Whitman's I contain multitudes from Song of Myself.
Again, you have a poem there, a male poet, talking about how even though parts of himself are innately contradictory, they still add up to a single.
I. And again, I think what Das is doing there is writing back against that tradition, either
against specific individuals like Whitman or Hughes, but perhaps just back against the tradition
of male poets more broadly and saying that like you, I can be both. I also have a kind
of plural eye, an eye that is not singular. And it's that, I mean, it's such an impressive way
of ending the perm. And if it is in dialogue with Hughes or Whitman or whoever it's in dialogue with,
I think it's a very worthy inclusion in those conversations.
I mean, I have to agree, and to say this very colloquially,
I'm just kind of obsessed with the fact that this poem very literally packs away the man.
There's this line where Das argues,
I see the one who calls himself I in this world.
He is tightly packed like the sword in its sheath.
It is I who drink lonely drinks at 12 midnight in hotels of Strange Town.
You just have this real sense of absolutely juxtaposing any sort of traditional ideas of freedom and oppression.
It is the man, the male figure who is boxed away, packed away, not let out to see the light.
They are described as a sword in its sheet, this very traditional old world weapon that is really not used in the modern day.
you are looking at a modern woman who is out drinking and staying in hotels and being sexually liberated.
This is a poem that is really ahead of its time in a lot of ways,
but also equally I recognize very timely in the sense that women had been deprived of these liberties for so long
that Das does an incredible job of in one poem exploring everything from, as we say, sexual liberation,
to what it means to be married,
to being able to have the freedom to go out for a drink,
or the freedom to be engaged in politics.
It's just, it's a really, really complex poem.
And I hope we've done it justice today.
Well, I hope so too.
And for a poem like this, we could do five episodes.
So, you know, if there are things you wish we'd spoken about,
as I said earlier, please do get in touch with us
at beyond the verse at permanalysis.com.
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