I have had quite churning last few days. I read ‘If’ by Rudyard Kipling
again. It is a poem that touched me quite deeply when I was trying to find my
footing in nasty noisy Delhi horror -was really ambling the edge, few steps into
abyss, and when you are young these kind of ‘inspiring’ poems gives meaning. Surely,
I owe Kipling gratitude hence the urge to reevaluate the mainstream narration. It
is important to engage, understand, and not to shun based on staid narrations or
powerful interests that have frozen contemporary into past narrations. So I thought
to spend time to critically analyze Kipling, not on his entire oeuvre (quite incompetent
to do that, nor have I read all his work) but narration that attempt to
undermine. I maybe wrong but my views matter, atleast to me. What is clear is
that Kipling was brilliant writer as also incisive and sensitive as can be
judged by Jungle Book. "Kipling, the supposed expert writer on India,
showed a better understanding of the mind of the animals in the jungle than of
the men in an Indian home or the marketplace" commented RK Narayan. There is
no reference of Kipling claiming that he is an expert writer on India nor is it
attributed anywhere. And yes, understanding minds of animals (ofcourse anthropomorphized,
nevertheless a story that delighted generations of young readers) is an
appreciable attribute and a personal choice. It also questions on what was RK
Narayan’s understanding of men (women were yet to be discovered -thanks LeGuin!)
in an Indian home or marketplace? His fictions were well written and one of
them (The English Teacher) searingly personal that left deep imprint on me. Narayan,
like Kipling, was also a gifted writer and exceedingly funny who created
endearing characters, nostalgic reminder of innocent world gone by that you
want to clasp and not let go. But his fiction had basic flaw, he gives a
fantastically naïve version of Indian society sanitized of apparent glaring
blemish that is everyday reality of common people. These nice stories tickled
the sensibilities of elite narration on an afternoon siesta. It hardly
showcased grittiness and heartbreaking reality of what is essentially a
primitive society. Well, it is his choice to place fiction the way he wants to
but to claim an understanding of Indian society, or attributing a reflection of
Indian reality, doesn’t pass basic scrutiny (indeed most Indian writers lack
sincerity and romanticize the bleak, those who show sensitivity come out as excessively
patronizing and insipid, after my earlier reading -as I was exploring as a
beginner, I rarely indulge Indian writers, they mostly lack vigor, there were rare
exceptions like say NirmalVerma -also liked him as a person, so on). Narayan’s nonfiction
musings could have balanced this lack instead he comes out as a self-absorbed colossal
bore.
Colonial Britain was much advanced having consolidated ideas of science
and philosophy into streamlined thinking and institutions. Britain was at the center
of industrial revolution and was essentially the engine of human progress (powerful monarchy created the conditions is undeniable). It is therefore natural
for anyone placed within the society to feel superior when encountering a world
which was seriously wanting and primitive in all apparency. And when you see
the other of different skin color it is but natural to see the pattern and
attribute to race hence racism. Writers, of the caliber and sensibilities of
Kipling, are meant to be different. They cannot herd people into discrimination
or dismiss whole society based on what they may see on daily basis as the only reality.
They are supposed to do their work and search for redeeming qualities in the
morass of neglect and find individuals to claim humanity. They have to break
pattern of complacency in classifying and negating people into horrible discriminations. So how did Kipling
fare? Well, his heart was in the right place, and surely was a victim of circumstance.
You cannot blame him for ‘white man’s burden’ since he genuinely believed it as
a benign responsibility (benign and not racist considering his sensibilities).
How this got detached into wider narration, and to contemporary interpretation,
is definitely his fault, as a writer he could have anticipated this pattern -surely,
he must have observed blatant racism around him. He was privy to better version of
humanity but he failed. Also, as a gifted writer he could have eviscerated Indian society
into all its worth with the kind of empathy that was evident in Jungle Book. He
chose not to. That reminds me of profoundly insightful Swedish writer Harry
Martinson, who spent few days in Mumbai in early 19th century while his ship was docked -he was
stoker labour at the engine. His heightened sensibilities and complexities of existential
experiences he faced equipped him to effortlessly spot redeeming humanity in the
beauty of ordinary people trapped in absolute rote of depraved society (for
more you may visit https://depalan.blogspot.com/2023/12/on-meditative-stillness.html).
Kipling chose not to and that is where he compromised.
The youngsters in british university were right to insist on
Angelou’s poem. It is urgent and values the time in which we live in, importantly
it reflects these youngster’s deeply held values and inspirations. Kipling’s
poem is not bad but simply not suited. He is also perceived as racist in
enlightened interpretation of contemporary cannot be denied.
