READING REGINALD: BETWEEN “VENICE” AND “RUSSIA”

During a recent visit to the Central Library in Panjim, I stumbled upon an entry in the database titled “Theatr Neketr Fuddarachem” authored by “Reginaldo Fernandes”. Knowing that generally Reginald Fernandes used an anglicized version of his name in most of his romanses, I decided to make sure if it was the same Reginald that I was interested in. The book procured for me was a small, pocket-sized one with no more than 70 pages which had badly yellowed and had become brittle as well. This book was published from Bombay in 1936.

1936? There hung a question in my mind: was the author the same Reginald Fernandes who wrote romanses from the 1950s onwards? To be moderately sure about this, his date of birth needed to be ascertained. Help came in from the editor of Gulab and The Goan Review Fausto V. da Costa who informed me that Reginald was born on June 14, 1914. This meant that when Reginald had authored and published this tiatr he was only around 22 years old. This means that if Reginald’s literary history is to be charted we have to go back to as early as 1936.

Reading this text no doubt raises more issues and questions about this genre of Konkani literature. This is because, first and foremost, when views are being expressed that tiatrists do not publish and document their scripts, here was someone quite young and already printing his works. Was he an exception? Indeed, Reginald seems to be the exception as even today a lot needs to be done as far as documenting the scripts of tiatr. Secondly, why was a young writer publishing his script? What were the conditions and factors that allowed such a person like Reginald to publish his work? Is it the only tiatr that he wrote and/or published? And if so why did he shift to writing romanses later in his life? Suffice it to say that these are questions for the future, for our purpose in Reading Reginald is quite different: to see what unfolds in his tiatr.

The story revolves around two young lovers Boby and Flora. In keeping with many of his writings in later times, Reginald portrays these two lovers as not equal to each other. In the very first scene or the opening act set in a garden, Boby tells Flora that she is from “Venice” and he is from “Russia”. The reference is at once enigmatic as it is revealing. What it immediately reveals is that because they are not same socially or economically, the young lovers will face opposition, and indeed later in the tiatr this is exactly what happens. The reason why this reference is enigmatic is because it is not clear from where Reginald is taking his inspiration from. Immediately, what comes to one’s mind, considering the fact that many Romi writers would adapt from English and other literatures, is some Shakespearian influence. But as one reads further, this reference never gains any clarity as far as its provenance is concerned.

Considering the fact that towards the climax of the tiatr, the characters engage in sword fights, the hero of the tiatr being thrown in jail and his lover entering the prison dressed like a man to free the hero, it would not be surprising that detailed study would reveal a mixture or medley of influences that is not just confined to Shakespearian drama. Thus, the act of Reading Reginald involves not just locating the provenance of the influences on the writer, but also acknowledging the influences of European literatures as legitimate in the development and progress of Konkani literature.

The story is simple: two young lovers, with the girl hailing from an economically well-off family. There is a third person, Alvaro, who is jealous of the love of Boby and Flora and tries every scheme in the book to separate them, and thereby inherit the wealth through marriage to Flora. If we would like to know more about the influences and thought process of Reginald and try to link them to his later writings, then I think this tiatr that he wrote can be used as a starting point considering the fact that he was just 22 years old when he wrote it.

Another reason why Neketr Fuddarachem is a fascinating text is because not only does it include the cantaram (songs) that accompanied the tiatr but also the musical notations. So Reginald is not just an able writer, a composer, but also a musician and all these facets of his personality come together in this text. Most of the dialogues rhyme, perhaps to provide the necessary dramatic or theatric effects. Such texts wherein prose, dialogues, cantaram, and music come together can also point to us alternate ways in which to conceptualize the nature and function of Konkani writings in the Roman script. More so because if one compares how scenes or podd’ddes change in a tiatr, similarly in Reginald’s romanses he deliberately makes the reader know that the focus of the story is being shifted to some other aspect and/or location of the story. So, a Reginald romans, in a sense, also works like a tiatr.

I admit that I have not been able to give a definite answer to the meaning of the reference to “Venice” and “Russia”. However, by reflecting on such references in Romi writings one can come up with new ways to engage with Konkani and Goan culture.

For more Reading Reginald, click here.

(First published in  O Heraldo, dt: 15 October, 2014) 

DIFFERENT, NOT UNIQUE

It can be said with a lot of certainty that Goans straddle many worlds. Owing to the differences between the colonial styles of the Portuguese and the British, and the interactions that Goans have with these two Empires, the historical and cultural experiences of the Goans are diverse indeed. With migrations to Africa, the Gulf, Europe and now increasingly to North America and Australia Goans seem to be a part of many worlds. This diversity of historical and cultural experiences has been ignored with attempts to fit Goa’s history within Indian national narratives with the region’s integration into India. Rochelle Pinto’s book Between Empires: Print and Politics in Goa draws attention to this fact and also explores it in greater detail.

So why is this diversity of historical and cultural experiences important? It is for the reason that, as many scholars have emphasized, the nature of Portuguese colonialism was ‘different’ to that of the British, Goa’s history need to be looked at from its own standpoint. Recognizing this difference would also provide valuable insights into how the Goan identity came to be constituted. The argument that can be advanced is that it is due to the ‘different’ Portuguese colonialism that Goa acquired its exceptions with regards to its culture and history. For instance, such a difference can be observed in the political structures, its religious experiences, and food practices.

To recognize Goa’s ‘difference’ is not similar to asserting a ‘unique’ identity for it. Indeed, a distinction needs to be made between viewing Goa as ‘different’ and viewing it as ‘unique’. Asserting uniqueness is opposed to the idea of Goa’s difference from the established norm of British colonial and Indian national experience. This idea of uniqueness is largely used by groups who held positions of power and authority during the colonial regime as well as in the postcolonial times. Though originating in elite locations this very seductive idea is not restricted to these groups alone. The significance of asserting ‘uniqueness’ becomes clear if one starts thinking about how the idea of Goa’s uniqueness animates and sustains many popular political mobilizations in contemporary Goa. The movements to protect the environment, the demand for Special Status (to name just a few) have a very strong sense of Goa as a unique space.

If a departure from Indian national narratives can enable us to appreciate the possibility of opening up various worlds to view them as part of the Goan experience, the assertion of a unique identity itself isolates us from the possibility of creating networks with these diverse worlds. Thus, the fact that there might be other groups that are an exception to the norm within India, for instance, may get subsumed by the assertions of Goa and Goans as unique. Such assertions leave no space to forge new alliances with groups whose experiences may not differ much from that of the Goan.

To take tourism as an illustration, while we may recognize the manner in which Goa is reduced to an ‘exotic’ pleasure periphery for foreign as well as Indian tourists, what often gets left out is that there are other places within India itself that function as ‘exotic’ pleasure peripheries. If Goa is the ‘escape’ for many urban Indians from everyday troubles, in a similar way many of the hill-stations in India as well as places in the Northeast serve as ‘escapes’ for the nearby urban population. By ‘escaping’ to such ‘exotic’ locales one just does not leave his/her professional roles behind, but also their social norms and behaviour. The fact why Goa is seen as more liberal, Southern European, and Catholic than the other pleasure peripheries, is the result of its ‘different’ colonization. But this fact in no way separates or isolates Goa from these other pleasure peripheries within India. 

The ‘difference’ that we have discussed above is the product of the last four-and-a-half centuries. This ‘difference’ opens up new vistas and avenues for thinking about the road ahead for Goa. But to ignore this difference so as to solely view Goa within the frames of Indian nationalism would be to limit Goa’s potential and that of its many worlds.

(First published in  O Heraldo, dt: 10 October, 2014)

KONKANI, MoI, AND COLONIAL LEGACY

Around two months ago, at the launch of the Indo-Portuguese historian Teotonio de Souza’s latest book, Eduardo Faleiro, former Union Cabinet minister and former NRI Commissioner of the Goa government, argued for imparting primary education in the local language. Excerpts of his speech were recently published in The Goan Review (September-October, 2014), and therefore his key arguments are available for greater scrutiny. Speaking at the launch of Goa Outgrowing Postcolonialism, Faleiro sought to trace a linear and rather simplistic connection between the violence of colonialism, the destruction of native culture, and the (purported) contemporary need for education in the native language(s).

The core of Faleiro’s speech rested on the understanding that Portuguese colonialism resulted in the destruction of the Konkani language “almost completely”. Since “[l]anguage is central to culture”, Faleiro seems to argue that one can undo the damage and alleged humiliation of colonialism by regaining the pre-colonial glory of native culture. He therefore suggests that Konkani and Marathi need to be studied at primary level and that “[t]here is no justification for English as a medium of instruction at the primary level”. Also, “Konkani should be taught in the Devnagri script as it will provide access to Marathi and Hindi… [and] Children will learn the romi script when they learn English”.

While acknowledging the ills of colonialism, one should be careful not to take the idea of wholesale destruction under colonialism at face value. Also, how valid is the idea that the pre-colonial period was a glorious epoch and thus worthy of recovering? For the problems with such thinking clearly come to the fore when Nagri script is considered as a way out of the ills of colonialism. The underlying assumption is that the Nagri script is more ‘Indian’ and hence best suited for the task of recovering the lost cultural heritage.

Faleiro is not making any new suggestions as far as the linguistic and cultural realms of Goa go. By making the argument for the Nagri script, he joins a very long list of largely upper-caste Nagri protagonists who have thus far ensured the denial of Government recognition to the Roman script. One can understand why Faleiro is favouring the Nagri script, as in the worldview that he seems to be drawing upon, the culture-destroying Portuguese colonialism is where Konkani in the Roman script had its birth. However, such an understanding fails to take note of the very real possibility that through the Roman script, written texts (chiefly Christian literature) were made available to a large mass of people. This access was not possible prior to missionary intervention because until then it was largely the brahmin pundits and other upper-caste groups who had sole control over the production and access to knowledge. This is exactly the point that Jason Keith Fernandes made in his talk The Secret History of Konkani, arguing also that one needs to view the Catholic Church in Goa, through the intervention of missionaries, as a producer of a language through the Roman script. Thus, according to this argument, the Konkani language and knowledge was not destroyed completely but was made available to a greater number of people.

The colonial legacy of the Roman script itself is reason enough to reject it as a carrier of authentic Goan and Indian culture. Such thinking can stray in dangerous directions. For, within this argument, is the unsaid condemnation of Christianity and Islam, for the destruction of natives and native culture in the process of proselytizing these religions. As much of recent work by historians and anthropologists of Christianity and Islam in the Indian subcontinent has demonstrated, conversion did not necessarily result in a loss of native culture. Many historians have suggested that conversion could also be a way out of caste. A perusal of these works would convince many that the colonial past is a complex history and would need a deeper understanding than what is allowed by our contemporary political setup.

The argument that English cannot be the medium of instruction is again a bit suspect. Faleiro’s contention is that the “academic performance” is not affected if education is imparted in local languages. However, if one considers his understanding of colonialism and his espousal of the Nagri script for Konkani, it becomes evident that Faleiro’s arguments have very little to do with “academic performance”. Several Goan writers have stressed that the parents should be given the right to decide for their wards. Recently, a Supreme Court judgment too argued for upholding the choice of the parents in keeping with the letter and spirit of the Constitution of India. The denial of English as medium of instruction is also a denial of the legitimacy of the aspiration of parents for their children. If thousands of parents/guardians feel that access to English language would provide their wards with greater opportunities in later life, then we need to consider their point of view much more seriously, and not brush it aside the way Faleiro does.

We need to start recognizing that the issues of the Roman script, medium of instruction, and Portuguese colonialism are not isolated, but are intertwined with each other. This is the reason why, one can suggest, Faleiro started his speech with a general reflection on the destruction and mayhem of colonialism and ended with a suggestion for the organization of “programmes to sensitise parents as to the need for their children to learn in the mother tongue”. Rather than privileging the diversity of Goan culture, only certain cultural traditions are privileged and recognized. In a society that is struggling to maintain its plural and peaceful character, such thinking will only add to our woes.

(First published in  O Heraldo, dt: 1 October, 2014)

See also: 'Supreme Court, MoI, and 'Mother Tongue': Good News for Goa?', here.

'Medium of Instruction in Goan Schools: Mother Tongue or Multitlingualism?', here. 

'Battle of the Konkanis: Separating Wolves from the Lambs', here.