UR Ananthamurthy's works now in English

CHENNAI: August 22 was the second death anniversary of UR Ananthamurthy (URA), one of Karnataka’s foremost writers and thinkers. On the occasion, Oxford University Press has brought out the English translation of his popular short story, Bara (Famine) by Chandan Gowda. Written during the Emergency, the story is set in drought-struck Karnataka. With Satisha, a district administrator as its central figure, Bara is a story of political and moral corruption in the country.Gowda, professor of sociology at Azim Premji University, says the late writer was puzzled by the Emergency. “The larger inspiration for URA was his bafflement with the Emergency which saw a communist party (CPI) extend support to the Congress with the belief that working with the system could further its political ideals.”
Ananthamurthy penned the book in 1976 and it is translated into English 40 years later. What makes Bara a story of continued relevance?
Bara’s ambition to show the inability of political ideologies to engage the complexity of Indian culture holds an even greater value today. Liberal Indians will find that the story powerfully captures their dilemmas of living amidst realities that elude their points of view. Bara’s insights into how politics mediates drought relief are valuable. Its portrait of mofussil realities is moving. And, rich metaphors appear all along. Readers will surely discover other reasons for why the story matters!
What got you to agree to attempt translating it? What do you as a reader love about the story?
I had only watched the film, Bara, when URA invited me to translate the story. After reading it, I shared URA’s sense that it ought to be revisited in the present. The story had great drama. And great moral seriousness. URA’s attention to details also stood out. It was thrilling to see that Bara anticipated recent discussions of the distinctiveness of India’s political culture. Different kinds of authority co-exist here. Political processes are hard to grasp through secular analysis.
Translating this book must have been challenging considering it is among Ananthamurthy’s popular works and has been adapted in different formats like films and theatre. What were your major concerns as a translator?
Simply put, the translation, to succeed, had to sound like the original. I felt reassured after I had read out the translation to URA over an afternoon. In doing this act of cultural negotiation, I have tried to be faithful to both the original and the new audience.
You’ve interacted extensively with URA. What is the most indelible memory you have of him? What makes him an iconic writer and individual?
His mesmerizing speaking style! He could hold his listeners – in public as well as in private – spellbound. He looked at over-familiar issues in new ways. URA’s writings kept literary and political seriousness together. Controversial on occasion, they raised key issues for public discussions. Critical of the right-wing as well as left orthodoxies, he stayed committed to democratic ideals. Movements for social equality could easily find an ally in him. The fate of Indian languages mattered deeply to him. Besides his literary works, his large body of essays, newspaper columns and speeches show that he was a public intellectual in every sense of the term.
What did he tell you about the inspiration for Bara?
The transcript of our discussion on Bara, in fact, appears in this book. A visit to an IAS officer in North Karnataka mattered for the writing of Bara. This officer had tried to dodge a minister’s manipulative politics with the drought relief measures.
The larger inspiration for URA was his bafflement with the Emergency, which saw a communist party (CPI) extend support to the Congress with the belief that working with the system could further its political ideals. URA was also struck that one’s ideology offered no guarantees about what one did. A Gandhian like Vinoba Bhave supported the Emergency whereas another Gandhian, Jayaprakash Narayan,
opposed it.
Most youngsters today are more conversant in English than their mother tongue. In such a scenario, would you say the task of translating regional literature takes on a more critical role?
Absolutely. The scenario you note has indeed made translation acquire a new political and cultural urgency. It enables the younger generations of English-knowing Indians to access literature in their native tongues. (All efforts must be made of course to ensure Indians are proficient in at least one Indian language). It lets them encounter the complex moral worlds of India, whose depth and diversity isn’t reflected in the fictional work in English that tends to focus on urban scenarios. Translations, as you know, expand the cultural horizons of readers and create new aesthetic experiences. They will help India understand itself better.