GALLEY BEGGAR PRESS EXTRACTS
The Book of Desire, by Meena Kandasamy
INTRODUCTION: WOULD I QUARREL, WOULD I EMBRACE?
Translating the Love Poetry of Tirukkuṟaḷ as a Tamil Decolonial Feminist
ONE OF THE OLDEST SURVIVING LANGUAGES OF THE WORLD, Tamil is spoken by about 78 million people in the south Indian states of Tamil Nadu and Puducherry, Eelam, and elsewhere globally. Modern linguistic scholarship places the oldest extant Tamil literature at around 300 BCE. Reflective of the Tamil philosophy of life, Tirukkuṟaḷ (composed 1 BCE) is the most vital text of this ancient civilisation – a heartbeat to its culture and imagination. Authored by Tiruvaḷḷuvar, no biographical details of the poet remain. Anonymity does not mean obscurity; this is a poet who remains central to our everyday lives. Recognising him as the greatest historical Tamil icon, the state of Tamil Nadu officially follows a Tamil calendar that begins in the year 31 BCE, the assumed year of Tiruvaḷḷuvar’s birth. In his memory, we keep time; through his poetry, we navigate our world.
The 1330 verses of the Tirukkuṟaḷ are divided into three sections: Morality, Materialism, and Desire. Written in the kuṟal venpa, each kuṟaḷ runs into two lines: the first consists of four feet (cīr, in Tamil), and the second of three. The third section, the Iṉpattuppāl (Book of Desire), translated here, consists of 250 kurals divided into 25 chapters. The first translation of the Tirukkuṟaḷ in English appeared more than 220 years ago, in 1794. It remains one of the most widely translated non-religious texts. In these intervening years, more than 100 translations have appeared in English.
Here, I have attempted the first feminist interventionist translation into English – remaining true to the female (and male) desire throbbing through the lifeblood of this text, while retaining the drama that pervades the quintessential Tamil world of exaggerated hurt, lover’s quarrels and evenings lost to longing. Reading the Iṉpattuppāl, the erotic poetry of the Tirukkuṟaḷ, is an enriching, unforgettable experience. I invite you to partake of its beauty.
*
The kuṟaḷ that opens the Book of Desire (Iṉpattuppāl, or Kāmattuppāl) describes the first encounter with its heroine. Dazzled, the hero wonders if this woman is a fearsome goddess. When she faces off with him in the second kuṟaḷ, he feels that she has brought along a ‘shock troop of terrifying goddesses’. By the third kuṟaḷ, he confesses that he, who has never known death, now realises that death wages war with a woman’s beautiful eyes. In a later kuṟaḷ, her eyes devour lives. Fatally attractive, she strikes fear and terror, arresting the beholder’s attention.
This deadly, intoxicating woman in the Tirukkuṟaḷ, a Tamil text, is a Tamil woman. She might be a universal stand-in for the beloved, but she was conceived in the Tamil universe.
When the hero encounters this Tamil woman, he is awestruck, almost afraid of the powers she holds. How does the reader encounter this Tamil woman? Not face-to-face as a physical or imagined encounter, but in the realm of ideas where her beauty is dismissed and seen as a distraction.
Does this fear-inducing Tamil beauty have the right to comment about the text in which she appears and holds court?
Does this woman ever exist outside of the text?
I ask these questions because: This terrifying (Tamil) goddess is absent. Absent as a translator. Absent as a commentator. Absent as a philosopher of love. Absent as an aesthetic spokesperson.
Isn’t this absence of women – as translators, as commentators – a product of marginalisation and masculine insecurity, a gatekeeping of the world of literature? Or is her silence an affirmation of the fact that women writers have been reduced to their subjective positions, forced by patriarchy into shunning the universal while flaunting a preference for the granular world of the particular? Will she, in her paratextual incarnation, strike terror? In this intellectual encounter, is she seductive, striking, or both?
Does this, eventually, lead to love?
Here, in the pages of this book, I claim for myself the space to interpret/ideate on the Tamil woman in the Tirukkuṟaḷ. As a woman in love, I also claim the space to be her.*
*[An extract – from the beginning – of Meena’s longer introduction to The Book of Desire.]
PART 1.
தகையணங்குறுததல்
HER DANGEROUS BEAUTY
1081.
அணங்குகொல் ஆய்மயில் கொல்லோ கனங்குழை
மாதர்கொல் மாலும்என் நெஞ்சு.
aṇaṅkukol āymayil kollō kaṉaṅkuḻai
mātarkol mālum eṉ neñcu
My heart is tossed about:
Is she the lusty she-devil
A flamboyant peacock
Lady of heavy earrings?
1082.
நோக்கினாள் நோக்கெதிர் நோக்குதல் தாக்கணங்கு
தானைக்கொண் டன்ன துடைத்து.
nōkkiṉāḷ nōkketir nōkkutal tākkaṇaṅku
tāṉaikkoṇ ṭaṉṉa tuṭaittu
She looks, her look
A face-off to mine—
Looks like she has brought along
a shocktroop of terrifying goddesses.
1083.
பண்டறியேன் கூற்றென் பதனை இனியறிந்தேன்
பெண்டகையால் பேரமர்க் கட்டு.
paṇṭaṟiyēṉ kūṟṟeṉ pataṉai iṉiyaṟintēṉ
peṇṭakaiyāl pēramark kaṭṭu
Once, I never knew of that
which is called Death. Now
I know. It wages war with
A woman's striking eyes.
1084.
கண்டார் உயிருண்ணும் தோற்றத்தால் பெண்டகைப்
பேதைக்கு அமர்த்தன கண்.
kaṇṭār uyiruṇṇum tōṟṟattāl peṇṭakaip
pētaikku amarttaṉa kaṇ
Harmless, this woman,
with eyes devouring
the lives of those
who look at her.
1085.
கூற்றமோ கண்ணோ பிணையோ மடவரல்
நோக்கமிம் மூன்றும் உடைத்து.
kūṟṟamō kaṇṇō piṇaiyō maṭavaral
nōkkamim mūṉṟum uṭaittu
Is it ruinous death,
is it an eye, or a doe?
A woman's glance
is all of the above.
1086.
கொடும்புருவம் கோடா மறைப்பின் நடுங்கஞர்
செய்யல மன்இவள் கண்.
koṭumpuruvam kōṭā maṟaippiṉ naṭuṅkañar
ceyyala maṉivaḷ kaṇ
If those cruel eyebrows,
unlined, would hide her eyes—
her eyes would not make me
shiver in this manner.
1087.
கடாஅக் களிற்றின்மேற் கட்படாம் மாதர்
படாஅ முலைமேல் துகில்.
kaṭā'ak kaḷiṟṟiṉmēṟ kaṭpaṭām mātar
paṭā'a mulaimēl tukil
This fine garment, not touching
this woman’s breasts, ornamental,
as the blindfold over a male
elephant, raging in mast.
1088.
ஒண்ணுதற் கோஒ உடைந்ததே ஞாட்பினுள்
நண்ணாரும் உட்குமென் பீடு.
oṇṇutaṟ kō'o uṭaintatē ñāṭpiṉuḷ
naṇṇārum uṭkumeṉ pīṭu
My legendary valour
made foes tremble,
now it lies shattered
seeing her lustrous brow.
1089.
பிணையேர் மடநோக்கும் நாணும் உடையாட்கு
அணியெவனோ ஏதில தந்து.
piṇaiyēr maṭanōkkum nāṇum uṭaiyāṭku
aṇiyevaṉō ētila tantu
Doe-eyed and bashful,
she casts a guileless look,
does she need these jewels?
they run alien to her nature
1090.
உண்டார்கண் அல்லது அடுநறாக் காமம்போல்
கண்டார் மகிழ்செய்தல் இன்று.
uṇṭārkaṇ allatu aṭunaṟāk kāmampōl
kaṇṭār makiḻceytal iṉṟu
Distilled liquor causes no delight
to those who are not drunk,
unlike love that intoxicates
at a mere glimpse.