On the Other Side is March - Book Review

 

On The Other Side is March by Sólrún Michelsen, translated from the Faroese by Marita Thomsen ends with a postscript below.

“Where is the old lady?” 

“Which old lady?” 

“The old old one in the red house?” 

“You mean langomma?” 

“Yes. Langomma.” 

“She lives with Jesus now.” 

“Not in the red house?” “No.” The little one goes quiet for a moment. 

“She used to give us juice and vanilla cookies.”

Langomma means great grandmother and the little one in the above dialogue is the book's unnamed narrator's grandchild. The narrator of this slim novel (about 110 pages long) is woman in her 60s who has just begun to fill the void left by her grown up children. Just as she finds freedom, gathers pieces of her lost self before her children colonized her life, she's made to care for her very old mother whose memory is eroding gradually due to dementia. The narrator, at times, also takes care of her grandchildren, serving as a living bridge connecting generations of a family through the primary task of caregiving. There is the guilt of being able to do only so much interwoven with grief, grief of seeing one's mother reduced to an empty shell, a mother who even forgets to identify her own daughter, and with shame of wanting to move away from all responsibilities, move away without a care. 

On the Other Side is March is a novel of dialogues, ruminations built on memories and moments - both fleeting and epiphanic. The prose flows like poetry, assumes hues of Danish hymns, Faroese ballads and folk songs. The rich oral tradition of singing and storytelling that has kept this language, spoken by about 75,000 worldwide, alive blossoms in the narrative structure. The novel, like a song, has its share of crescendos and decrescendos, studded with lines and even paragraphs that are epitome of grace, intelligence and poignance and lines that just stay muted or even incomprehensible. On how women carry the burden of caregiving, on how old age mercilessly robs one of character, charisma and dignity that one carefully built over years, On the Other Side of March is a deeply personal goodbye to a mother from a daughter, at the same time a ubiquitous rendition of women's lives. 

That the book is a first by a Faroese woman author to be translated into English itself earns it lots of brownie points. The themes, though universal, have a strong sense of rootedness in the culture and language of the island that lies between Iceland and Scotland. While there are several excerpts (some of them shared below) that touch an emotional chord, there are some that slip quietly from our grasp. Thanks to translation, this deeply humane novel is available to many readers across the world.

Favourite passages from the book - 

"All women have been saddled with an excess of imagination. We all conjure up that biopic in our mind, intended for the big reel. Then when the tape breaks again and again, we are disappointed at first; yet continue to splice it back together. Women can’t see their own youthful beauty, until years later when by chance they come across a photo taken by someone else. Until they notice that they are looking at themselves in the picture. It is said that women are actually angels. When someone breaks off our wings we simply carry on flying. Just on broomsticks. We are nothing if not flexible." 

"When you throw a pebble in a pond, the ripples spread outward. For the old it goes in the opposite direction. The world contracts in steadily shrinking circles. Eat and sleep. Back to basics."

"Blood. Sweat. Tears. These lifelong female life fluids. Flowing and flowing. On and on, until all sources dry up. Until the last drop congeals and the last pearl is wrung out. The final tear drawn from the once overflowing beaker."

"There is something divine about gardens, just like there is something divine about words and music. This trinity, which enables us to survive in spite of everything. To watch plants sprout, grow, and flower is like observing and helping both life and yourself along the right path."

"I see my childhood, where the sun always shone. Youth with its dizzying ups and downs. Life in the middle with thunderstorms and summer breezes, where anything can happen and everything happens. It’s good to be here where I am now. I stand surrounded by my dearest of all ages. Just as the sooth-sayer in Oxford Street foretold. Out there lie countries which are now struck off my atlas. There is no revisiting them. Others I have yet to see. The sun has moved to the west. But dare anyone say that the sunset cannot also be dazzling? Youth and the dawn of life are vanity, according to Ecclesiastes. These are held to be wise words."

“As each ages so he rages,” the adage goes. But it leaves out why. Perhaps it isn’t just that they are disappointed with life. Perhaps they are waging a battle. Refusing to let others define them, when it isn’t how they feel themselves. Or at what point do you admit that you are old?

5 Stories : Kannada - Book Review

5 ‘long’ short stories depicting socio-political realities with characters that evolve slowly over time and space as the narrative unfurls make up this book. The stories are translated from Kannada by Susheela Punitha and the series (consisting of a selection of 5 stories translated from different languages of the Indian subcontinent) is edited by Mini Krishnan. 

Two women writers - Vaidehi and Banu Mushtaq take up as much space as their male counterparts. There are 1000s of stories that highlight the plight of women, now add the adjective ‘poor’ alongside, you will realise a dearth of words to write about their daily struggles. For those who have read Banu Mushtaq’s Heart Lamp, her story ‘Not A Woman' is pretty predictable, but the fiery climax leaves a mark. ‘Worlds within Worlds’ by Vaidehi that nests stories within the story showcases through the lives of two women characters - Manji and Mankali how caste and gender biases are intricately ingrained in our system. While Manji who has a flair for all things ‘Brahminical’ is constantly shown her place as a Shudra; Mankali, a Brahmin woman married to a wastrel and dullard, wishes she was born a Shudra to escape the shackles of hollow, orthodox practices of her community. Both these stories reveal how women are often the worst enemies of women.

Bolwar Mahamad Kunhi’s ‘Worship’ redefines faith and reverence to the Almighty. It indicates service to humanity without worrying about personal gains and ego as the principal route to God.

‘The Spinning Top’ by Mogalli Ganesh is more about a shit hole dug by Chikkana than his son's spinning top. Cataloguing reactions of three generations of a family, the author shows how indelible caste markers are. While the grandfather has come to terms with his identity and prefers silence, his son is highly irate and rebellious, and the grandson simply wishes to get back in his mother's womb to not belong to this ruthless world. ‘This Heart Longs for More’ by Amaresh Nugadoni scales down the Kargil war and a World Cup cricket match between India and Pakistan on the same day to conflict in a small village tea shop. 

A singularly striking feature of Susheela Punitha’s lucid translation is her love for sounds as evident from the lines below - 

“When he sat chatting like the smooth running pata-pata of a sewing machine”. “He put the peanut brittle into his mouth and bit into it , katam, katam.” (from the story Worship)

“Then he attacked the pots lined up against the wall - chut ! Chut!” (From The Spinning Top)

“Nevertheless a two anna bit fell on her lap like spit from well to do, phichik” “raw jackfruit fell , pithick” (from Worlds within Worlds)

These lines made me wonder if they existed as is in the original, did the translator choose stories that highlighted sounds, is this ‘onomatopoeia’ her creative ingredient to enhance readability and interest in readers? 

It isn't an exaggeration if I say I wanted to read 5 stories - Kannada mainly because of the translator. It's thanks to her words I read Na D Souza’s Dweepa and Vaidehi (Krauncha Pakshigalu and other stories). Like the 5 Stories from Konkani, this collection too, is pretty rewarding!

5 Stories : Konkani - Book Review

 

I attribute my interest in Indian literature in translation, to a great extent, to Mini Krishnan. So when I chanced upon a series of collections titled 5 stories with her as the editor, I had to read it without delay. ,This book comprises 5 'long' short stories, translated from Konkani by Vidya Pai who has been my window to Konkani lit in English.

A collection of stories always allows its readers some randomness, something I crave for after after the drudgery of daily routine. So, I began with the last story first - Man of the Forest by Prakash Parienkar, set in the lush green forests bordering the Mhadei river. A man leaves his home, a civilized way of life and chooses to spend a fortnight in the forests with an earnest intent to become one with nature, not to harm or harness it but just to live in harmony with it. But can our greedy and malicious world understand his simple intent? No parent wishes to see their child dead during their lifetime but Damodar Mauzo (in story titled Cry Now) highlights a paradox by highlighting parents whose lives are crushed to a pulp by their only son. While I have read a novel and a few short stories by Damodar Mauzo (Tsunami Simon, stories from Teresa's Man and Mirage), Prakash Parienkar is a new to me author I would  definitely like to read more (I hope to pick his collection - The Bitter Fruit Tree). These two stories were hard-hitting. 

Pundalik Naik and Mahabaleshwar Sail are authors well known for their focus on socio-political realities. Their stories 'Victory' and 'Potter's Kiln' are no different. While the former highlights the plight of landless labourers, the latter shows how hard it is for widowed women to earn a living making pottery. The proposal to construct a dam near their village and social restrictions imposed on what kind of pots and pans widows can make jeopardize their survival.

Jayanti Naik's story captures the predicament of a marginalized community, the Thakars who go from door to door with the sacred performing bulls (Basavo). The tug of war between upholding traditions and the need to earn a decent income, the need to change with tide and time are portrayed sensitively. 

Lines from series editor note

All 5 stories have an element of irony that leaves a lasting impact. As 'long' short stories, these unfold gradually with ample space for the plot and characters to evolve and stay in our heads.The luminous notes by the series editor and translator at the start enrich the context for readers. The happy news - there are more titles in this series, more stories translated from different languages of the Indian subcontinent, waiting for us readers 

Sacred Talons - Book Review

Guruswamy, a 48 yr old bearded man with sharp and handsome features, is the protagonist of Sacred Talons by Aa Madhavan, translated from Tamil by V Ramakrishnan. Simple meals, temple visits, time well spent with books, observing people as they go about their activities, gazing at the sky, the Sun, the birds, the coconut grove and the market hidden in its copse make his daily routine. Reckless extravagance and excessive self-indulgence by his grandfather and father not only leave him with a lean inheritance but with a sense of revulsion for a rich and pompous lifestyle and petty pleasures. Sans issues and his wife dead for years, the joy of family life is also a distant and fuzzy memory for him.

The tenants who stay on his land truly care for him and constitute his adopted family. This family includes Parvathi, the maid, Ravi, the painter, Vengu the singer, Pappan the tinsmith and last but not the least Velappan, an employee at the dairy cooperative and his wife, Raani. For more than first one-third of the book, Guruswamy is at the centre, like the Sun and the other characters merely move around him like planets, basking in his benevolence. But times change, socio-political scenario shifts, suppressed desires resurface, morals crumble, vices win and people falter. How the lives of this ascetic-like Guruswamy and his acolytes are ruffled up unfolds at a steady pace in the book's latter half. 

Set against the backdrop of pre-independent and newly independent India, in the city of Trivandrum, the goings-on in Sacred Talons make us wonder about the opinions we hold, how our perspectives shift over time leaving us either enlightened or blindfolded. Should the brahminy kite be viewed as Lord Vishnu's mount as per and be revered or just be seen as a bird of prey? The denouement raises this question, clearly substantiating the choice of the title (not an exact equivalent of the Tamil original title, Krishna Parunthu). At its end, we are left with a question to tackle, something similar to the ‘what came first - chicken or egg?' - what changed first - man or his situation?

A special mention for the translation that is not just lucid and readable but intelligent too for giving us readers a title that beautifully mirrors the novel's crux. With a slow, meandering first half and an ‘up the ante’ second half, this layered novel with complex characters surprised me. I enjoyed reading this. 

A little about the author from the translator's note

The author inherited his father's business, a utensil shop at Chaalai bazaar in Trivandrum and wrote Tamil stories set against the backdrop of the market and its immediate neighborhood. His narratives focus on Tamil people in Trivandrum and his language is a curious mix of Malayalam and Tamil. 

Favorite Lines 

“How quickly days managed to bury past memories! Yesterday's heaviness cannot be found in the heart today. By tomorrow, its intensity will be completely gone until it can be found no more. Every passing day washes over us like a breeze. Perhaps days should be renamed as breeze.”

Endnotes

I read the author's novel On A River's Bank, translated by M Vijayalakshmi a few years back. I liked Sacred Talons more than this novel. The year 2026 began with reading a collection of stories by D Ravikumar translated by V Ramakrishnan, the translation left me happy as a reader there too. Here is hoping to read more works in Tamil translated by V Ramakrishnan. And a big shout out to TNTB & ESC initiative that ensures many important works in Tamil are translated and get a wider readership. I am always excited to see the Gopuram/temple tower symbol on covers of books and happy that many such books have a place in my bookshelf.

An Ocean in a Well - Book Review

 

An Ocean in a Well, a collection of 10 stories by D Ravikumar, translated from Tamil by V Ramakrishnan dwells on the personal and political, emotional and practical, straightforward and symbolic, ethereal and real with equal rigour. The opening story Thambi is about a young, homeless man who bites the hand that feeds him. Stories ‘Fact Finding’ and ‘A Death and Some More’ portray how caste-based violence is rife even today when ‘development’ is the loudest mantra. ‘Zha, the Unique letter’, a satirical take on today’s language wars shows how the state alters the definition of ‘sedition’ to further its agenda. The usage of Tamil letter ‘zha’ is banned in this story and the author subtly shows how this seemingly innocuous step thwarts the language itself.

Stories ‘An Ocean in a Well’, ‘Untimely’, ‘The Moon Pond’ that delve into man-woman relationship - of a mother who speaks to her son with her eyes, of lovers who meet briefly one last time before going opposite ways, of a man & a woman who share dreams and exchange poems are top favorites. The emotions in here wring your heart and the evocative descriptions of land, air and water elevate the reading experience. ‘The Word’, more like an essay, went over my head. On writers, avid readers, biblioklepts, the story ‘The Theory Concerning Theft’, pretty interesting, made me look up details of author Jean Genet.

Be it in dealing with a cultural innuendo in the story ‘Kulfi’ or in rendering a natural or emotional scape, the translation is excellent giving us readers pellucid prose. Just a comparison, a line and a poem from ‘The Moon Pond’ would suffice as proof -

“Hearing him speak always felt like reading a translated novel. The foreignness of his language was enchanting. It was impossible to fix his locale from his speech. It was a fusion of various dialects.

‘.. do not try to recollect, for you are your memory’.

‘All inventions have their origin in words;

We are but their tributaries.

They label us firmly as we label them.

Words of joy, words of misery,

Words of rejection, words of hope,

words for things, words for people,

Words for the universe, and words for nothing.

And behind it all, there is life, tranquil or tough,

with death waiting to spring on you anytime….’

Writing, both an act of resistance and catharsis, can assuage strong emotions on one hand & keep the inner fire burning on the other. That the written word can break boundaries and tackle reductionist ideas is what the author D Ravikumar firmly believes in. In his note at the start of this collection of ten of his stories, he writes ‘The stereotypes created about a race on social, political and cultural levels play an important role in keeping that race enslaved.’ He shares that the notion that Dalits couldn't create complex creative works and had only their life stories to tell, reinforced by what was written, translated and published until then, irked him and gave birth to these stories. The book, published under the aegis of TNTB & ESC, attempts to highlight voices and literary contributions of writers from Adi Dravidar & tribal communities. 

(Thanks to the publishers for providing a review copy in return for an honest opinion)