SahityasetuISSN: 2249-2372Year-4, Issue-2, Continuous issue-20, March-April 2014 |
Violence against Women: Ideological Mystification and Symbolic Violence in Premchand’s Godan
A renowned twentieth century author of Hindi and Urdu literature, Premchand is also referred to as the “Tolstoy of India” (Lindsay 17). His literary repertoire comprises more than three hundred short stories and several novels where the focus is primarily upon the depiction of the life of the common man. In fact, Premchand is considered to be an important Indian literary figure for he shaped novel as a literary genre. He is also referred as the harbinger of progressive writing which marked a new age in Indian literature. Australian-born author Jack Lindsay says that it is Premchand’s “passionate sympathy, his closeness to the suffering of people and his sense of urgent historical issue” which initiated him into penning realistic portrayal of humanity battling multifarious forms of violence (21). Godan was published in 1936 and has been translated in English by Jai Ratan and P. Lal. Critics believe that by the time he penned Godan Premchand had lost all faith in the idealistic solutions provided by Gandhi’s concept of “Ramrajya” (Chaturvedi 92).
In the novel Godan, Premchand skilfully captures those nuances of violence that have been normalized by patriarchal ideology. The story is set in a small, poverty-ridden village called Belari in Avadh, Uttar Pradesh, during Pre-independence. Premchand lays bare the misery which is a permanent fixture in the lives of people who belong to the different ends of the social spectrum. A study of the novel reveals the vein of corruption, manipulation and hypocrisy that lies hidden under pseudo-idealism. It lays bare the victimization of individuals at the hands of the representatives of powerful, oppressive social institutions. It also shows the peripheral situation of women caught in the traps of poverty, feminine ideals and humiliating social practices. Moreover, the novel also shows those who are victims of self-inflicted violence, mainly due to their submission to social malpractices. In fact, the narrative offers a vivid glimpse of the multi-faceted violence that is part of the lives of people residing in the villages and small towns of India.
Amaresh Dutta says that Godan represents a “vibrant and lively portrayal of contemporary Indian life which reflects the true faces of India’s rural and urban milieu” (1430). In Harish Trivedi’s view, the text highlights Premchand’s recognition of its characters deep, unresisting and often thoughtless allegiance to as well as their “uninterrogated internalization” of the violence situated in traditional and social values (Literary Cultures in History 1010). Prabhakar Jha states that Godan articulates a specific moment of modern Indian history rather than presenting a timeless portrait of Indian peasantry. In his view, its significance lies in its representation of all the “ideological voices of that moment entering into resonance or conflict” (“The Moment of Godan”).
Datadin, a Brahmin priest, presides over religious functions that take place in the upper caste families of the village Belari. For him, the essence of religion lies in “mumbling prayers, parroting the holy books, observing fasts and eating cooked food with their own hands” (Godan 232). Moreover, he believes that his birth into a higher caste gives him the power to “chastise the stick-in-the-mud peasants” (108). Datadin is, in fact, a con-artist who extorts money from illiterate, gullible, and poor lower caste people on the pretext of saving them from the wrath of God. His misguided notion about purity makes him treat the inferior castes with contempt but he turns a blind eye to his son maintaining illicit relations with a cobbler woman of lower caste. Datadin employs his knowledge of the religious scriptures to extort money from the peasants and, also, save his earnings from the landlord’s bailiff and other officials who demand monetary dues from him. Apart from demanding money from the villagers while conducting religious ceremonies, Datadin employs several other methods in order to extract maximum amount of money from them. He works as a money-lender, matrimonial match-maker, and a doctor for the villagers.
Here Datadin is one of the representatives of a “pre-capitalist economy’s symbolic violence” (Outline of Theory and Practice 179). Symbolic violence is, in Pierre Bourdieu’s view, the product of symbolic capital . Symbolic violence is defined as a gentle, covert, socially (mis)recognized and legitimized form of violence which is not so much undergone as chosen by individuals (192). In fact, symbolic violence is the most economical mode of domination that operates through various codes of honour, such as credit, confidence, obligation, personal loyalty, hospitality, gifts, gratitude, piety, etc. The active principle or the essence of this “social alchemy” includes wastage of labour, time, care, attention, and savoir-fare in order to produce a personal gift irreducible to its equivalent in money (192). The novel Godan, the English translation of the term being “gift of a cow,” shows Hori to be the perpetual victim of symbolic violence.
In the beginning of the novel, Hori fulfils the foremost wish of his life, that is, to buy a cow; an act symbolizing the level of an individual’s piety, prosperity and prestige in the Brahmin community. However, this act of Hori’s quickly spirals into his socio-economic ruination. The priest Datadin along with other money-lenders get angry for they feel that possession of a cow has somehow made Hori & his wife Dhania less tolerant of the condescending attitude of ruling class of Belari. Also, the mere thought of rise in Hori’s esteem among the villagers forces his brother Heera to commit the vengeful act of poisoning the cow. Heera flees after committing the crime, leaving behind his helpless brother to face the entire village’s accusations and outrage over the sacrilegious act. The village officials along with the priest Datadin impose a heavy fine on Hori for committing “cow murder.” Moreover, Hori faces another economic as well as psychological blow when his son Gobar flees home after impregnating Jhunia, daughter of the cowherd Bhola (who sold the cow to Hori). After being thrown out of her familial home, Jhunia is forced to seek shelter at the home of Gobar’s parents. An honour-bound Hori’s kindness towards Jhunia leads to the imposition of another massive fine upon him by the village officials. They are outraged at him for allowing a promiscuous woman to stay at his home. His plight worsens as he is forced to incur more amount of debt in order to plan his elder daughter Sona’s marriage with pomp and fair. Sona’s prospective bridegroom agrees to marry her without making any demands for dowry. Yet Dhania declines his offer for she believes that “money comes and goes but prestige lasts” (Godan 247). Hori’s staunch belief in dharma, his code of honour, and Dhania’s sensitivity towards the maintenance of social prestige make both of them the perpetual victims as well as the perpetrators of symbolic violence. Soon the time comes to find a suitable groom for their second daughter Rupa. However, the drastic deterioration of their economic condition forces Hori to wed his teenage daughter to a man close to his own age. This act shames Hori a great deal and he cuts himself off socially from others. Towards the end of the novel, a physically frail Hori is shown working ceaselessly in order pay off his debts and to fulfil his cherished dream of buying a cow once again.
Ultimately, working long hours in scorching weather results in his falling gravely ill. Despite being on his deathbed, Hori continues to lament over things that never came to fruition, that is, his failed attempt to buy a cow. Dhania tries to prepare medicinal concoctions to save her husband. But Heera along with other villagers puts a stop to her efforts and asks her to gift a cow to Datadin as charity. The novel ends with Dhania requesting Datadin to accept her meagre earnings as the equivalent of a cow.
Godan elaborates on the misery inherent in the lives of the poor people living in India. Gobar feels fortunate for working in the city and serving only one employer; unlike peasants who are confined to the dreary life in village and are forced to satisfy several masters. The peasant, according to Gobar, works “like a machine”, leads his life “without any hope or great joy”, and accepts “oppression and suffering as part of his destiny” (Godan 330). However, he feels that years of his stay in the city have put him in touch with a new way of life and widened his vision. Gobar’s condition as a worker in the city is, however, the exact opposite of what he perceives it to be. After migrating to the city, Gobar does different menial jobs and, ultimately, sets up a stall at the bazaar. He travels to Belari in order to get Jhunia and their son to accompany him in the city. But upon his return to Lucknow, Gobar finds out that his stall in the bazaar has been usurped. He is forced to find employment in the local sugar mill. He gets involved in Workers politics, strikes, and violent repression at the hands of the police. Gobar’s personal life suffers as the result of his experience of the constant competition, violent upheaval, and psychological turmoil that is an integral part of the life of every worker. He starts consuming alcohol, becomes physically and emotionally abusive towards Jhunia, and turns indifferent towards his family’s welfare. Hence the cut-throat environment of the city destroys Gobar and his nuclear family. In other words, Gobar’s experience as a poor labourer in the city turns out to be as miserable as his father’s life as a peasant. In fact, Gobar, Hori, Heera, and all the other peasants described in Premchand’s Godan stand as representatives of Jean Paul Sartre’s proletariat caught within the hell of the “practico-inert” (Critique of Dialectical Reason 58). It entails the worker’s existence as a slave to the tyranny of the Machine which is further defined by slavery, alienation, and powerlessness.
Apart from his description of the misery that underlies the existence of peasants, Premchand also focusses on women as being victims of multifaceted violence. The female protagonists of the novel, namely Dhania, Jhunia, Selia, Govindi, and Malti hail from both ends of the social spectrum. Yet their victimization somehow exceeds the level of oppression measured according to the denominator of caste and class. For instance, Govindi is an educated, upper caste/class woman married to a wealthy banker named Mr. Khanna. She tries hard to maintain the persona of a poised, serene, and loving mother, living a content married life in front of her friends and acquaintances. The reality of her situation is far different. Mr. Khanna is a debauch who cheats continually and publicly on his wife. His duplicity is highlighted when he philosophizes about concepts like virtue and ethics in order to impress women other than his wife. He proclaims to be a staunch supporter of women’s fight for equality. He continually declares that he is a firm believer in non-violence. But Mr. Khanna’s “rude and inflammable” behaviour towards Govindi behind closed door shows that he is, in fact, a pathological liar who feels no sense of guilt over subjecting his wife to violence, both physical and psychological (Godan 174-75). However, Govindi is the biggest perpetrator of violence for she directs it at herself. Despite the harsh treatment meted out to her, Govindi refuses to protest against her abusive husband as she can’t fathom her existence without him. She admits that her love for Mr. Khanna’s has turned her into his slave. Govindi’s acceptance of her victimization can, in fact, be attributed to her warped perspective regarding love, happiness, and fulfilment. She is steadfast in her belief that “real happiness lies in making others happy.” Govindi is also a masochist for she declares in front of her husband and their friends, with her “whole being lit up by devotion”, that it is “better to be the oppressed than to be the tyrant” (278). In other words, Govindi takes pride in her status as a victim. Moreover, her family and friends encourage her ideology by openly admiring her “lofty ideals,” “generous heart” and “pure life” (278). Govindi is a victim of patriarchal ideology’s “misrecognition.” Louis Althusser equates ideology to misrecognition. The misrecognizing function of ideology makes Govindi submit freely to her victimization for it deceives her into believing that she is making conscious, moral and free decisions. Govindi’s warped ideology leaves her no recourse besides accepting her abuse and consequent abandonment by a financially bankrupt Mr. Khanna. After battling a grave illness, Govindi finally succumbs to her death.
Another victim of her misrecognized perception of love is Selia: a cobbler woman belonging to the lower caste of the village Belari. Selia is a lowly, unpaid worker employed by the village priest Datadin. She does the work equal to that of three men but is provided with nothing more than two meals a day. Selia’s economic exploitation is worsened by her sexual exploitation at the hands of Datadin’s son, Matadin. He “cunningly exploits” Selia’s love by promising to treat her as his legally wedded wife to ensure that she will continue to do his bidding (234). Datadin allows his son to sexually manipulate Selia as long as he keeps his sexual liaison with her a secret and remains meticulous about his daily religious routine. He excuses his son’s behaviour by pointing out it is not sinful for a Brahmin man to have sexual relations with a lower caste woman, as long as she stays away from the kitchen of a Brahmin household. However, Selia’s family is angered at their daughter’s blatant exploitation by Matadin and his father. They call Selia a “shameless girl for that suffers all this in silence” (235). Matadin promptly labels Selia as evil and rejects her publicly. The cobbler community avenges the public rejection of Selia by forcing a bone inside Matadin’s mouth, thereby tainting his dharma. Selia, on the other hand, continues to believe that Matadin might somehow accept her again in his life. Her continuous concern from Matadin enrages her parents who beat her up and throw her out of their house. But after giving birth to an illegitimate son she finds the strength to survive on her own. Matadin does ultimately unite with Selia but only after experiencing the rejection from the Brahmin community. Initially, he undergoes various rituals such as going on pilgrimages, and eating cow dung for purification purposes (319). Yet the upper caste community, driven by rigid ideologies, refuses to involve him in any of their religious activities. Hence Matadin becomes aware of the violence he inflicted on Selia only after being shunned and victimized by his own community. Moreover, Selia’s experience of violence makes her realize that her ‘being’ does not need a phallocentric subject for its existence.
Jhunia is the widowed daughter of the cowherd Bhola living in Belari’s neighbouring village, Semari. Hori’s son Gobar develops a relationship with Jhunia during his visits to Bhola’s house to negotiate the sale of the cow. He ultimately impregnates Jhunia. But instead of taking responsibility for Jhunia and their unborn child, Gobar abandons her near his father’s hut and flees to the city. Jhunia’s character represents the violence meted out to widows in a religious and caste-driven society.
Malti is another character who becomes the victim of violence through her “misrecognition” of the notion of love. Malti is a doctor by profession but is devoid of any qualities that are associated with healing, such as compassion, patience, kindness, etc. She is a coquette who is more interested in catching the attention of men than paying attention to the sick. Initially Malti discriminates between her patients according to their caste and class. This prejudiced behaviour by Malti forms the basis of her interaction and verbal sparring with Mr. Mehta. Mehta compares woman to a swan and sees man as the eagle. In his view, man’s role as a “philosopher, scientist, warrior, statesman, navigator, mahatma, founder of religions,” etc. has mainly been to initiate endless violence. On the other hand, he defines woman based on the ideals of sacrifice, selfless, service, non-violence, and forgiveness. Mehta is, in fact, a typical patriarchal chauvinist. He never loses an opportunity to insult Malti for her ambition and her feminist perspective. During their numerous interactions and arguments, however, Malti is gradually shown as undergoing a transformation. Unlike other men who focus on her “sensual side,” Malti finds Mehta’s caustic remarks about her to be a refreshing change. She eventually falls in love with Mehta. Under his influence thus her dormant spirit of self-sacrifice and helpfulness surfaces. She begins to tend to poor patients without any charging fees. She begins to view her ambition as being “mean and artificial” (290). In fact, it becomes essential for her to transform herself based on the values outlined by Mehta in order to be accepted by him. Hence the gradual transformation of Malti to attain Mehta’s acceptance can be viewed as a form of violence.
Hori’s wife Dhania is the most self-aware character of the novel. She is completely supportive of her husband. Although she is criticized by the villagers for being sharp-tongued, Dhania continues to stand up for her as well as other women’s rights. She is unfazed by the public slander of Jhunia and, along with Hori, readily accepts her into their home. In her view, “all men are alike. When Matadin humiliated Selia no one raised a little finger in protest. But when Matadin comes in for trouble, he gets all the sympathy in the world. Has Selia no dharma of her own?” (239). Dhania is, in fact, a feminist figure in Godan. She throws light on patriarchal prejudice that views woman’s resistance to violence as an act in negativity. Dhania also is a victim of Hori’s physical and verbal abuse. He proclaims that his dharma prohibits him to retaliate in anger towards anyone. He even forgives his brother Heera for committing the grave sin of poisoning his cow. Yet Hori is not averse to publicly beating his wife whenever she challenges his authority and goes against his wishes. Hence Dhania is the victim of Hori’s exhibition of phallocentric power. Moreover, Dhania is also the target of symbolic violence as discussed by Bordieu. She refuses to hand over her hard-earned money and grain as a form of charity to the village officials. But she also refuses to marry her eldest daughter without providing her with dowry. According to Dhania, “money comes and goes but prestige lasts” (247).
A critical analysis of Godan thus highlights the symbolic violence that culminates from the intersection of axes of power such as caste, class, and religion. Patriarchy wields violence on individual by appealing to their code of honour. The basis of symbolic violence lies in the individual’s need to obtain validation, and maintain her or his status within society. In Godan, the two greatest acts of symbolic violence are the act of giving dowry and the gift of a cow. Dowry comprises the gifts presented to the bride on her espousal. In a class-based society, the status of the bride’s family is measured according to the expense of the gift. Hori and Dhania accrue a large amount of debt during the marriage of their eldest daughter, Sona. In their desire to maintain false prestige, they reject the prospective bridegroom’s proposal of marriage without dowry. Laden with fine-clothes and jewels, Sona becomes the embodiment of Hori and Dhania’s social capital. By the time Hori’s second daughter named Rupa reaches marriageable age, he is debt-ridden. He is penniless and incapable of arranging an adequate dowry for his youngest daughter. Hence Hori is forced to marry Rupa off to an old widower. Thus Rupa is another victim of symbolic violence. In the caste-driven village Belari, gifting a cow to a Brahmin is viewed as the most virtuous act for it absolves the gift-giver of all his past sins. Moreover, Hindu ideology promotes the perspective that the gift of a cow is mandatory for man’s salvation after death. The entire novel focusses on Hori’s desire to own a cow – the Hindu symbol of prestige and prosperity. Godan ends with Dhania being forced to part with her meagre earnings to appease Datadin over her inability to gift him a cow. Hence Premchand’s Godan is an elaborate critique of symbolic violence.
Reference
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Hasmukh Patel
Assistant Professor (English)
Gujarat Commerce College (Morning)
Ahmedabad
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