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| Robert Maddox-Harle |
by Robert Maddox-Harle

** ISSN 2475-1359 **
* Bilingual monthly journal published from Pittsburgh, USA :: рдкिрдЯ्рд╕рдмрд░्рдЧ рдЕрдоेрд░िрдХा рд╕े рдк्рд░рдХाрд╢िрдд рдж्рд╡ैрднाрд╖िрдХ рдоाрд╕िрдХ *
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| Robert Maddox-Harle |

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| Ankita Sen |
Abstract The
paper proposes to read Hamlet’s antagonist attitude towards the female
characters (namely, Gertrude and Ophelia) in the play through an ecocritical
lens. Drawing on Simon C. Estok’s theoretical concept of ‘ecophobia’, the paper
seeks to locate the root of Hamlet’s misogyny in his androcentrism. By
inquiring into Hamlet’s feeling of intense dislike for both women and the
natural world, the paper attempts to arrive at an ecocritical interpretation of
his character. In context to Gertrude, the paper will focus on how Hamlet’s disgust
becomes a common denominator through which the volatility of Gertrude’s sexual
desire and the unpredictability of the environment is simultaneously addressed.
In case of Ophelia, the paper will pay attention to her discourse to
conceptualise Hamlet’s ecophobia in the face of the environmental
incomprehensible.
Keywords
ecophobia, female desire, unpredictable, incomprehensible, madness, patriarchy
Hamlet by William Shakespeare is a
play that delves deep into a pervasively complex world of conspiracy, deception
and moral ambiguity. Written somewhere between 1599 and 1601, the play has its
titular character ricochet endlessly between haste and hesitation, with the
past haunting him and the future immobilizing him. A few months after the death
of his father, Hamlet returns home only to discover “something is rotten in the
state of Denmark” (1.4.90). He is deeply disturbed by his mother’s hasty
remarriage and this sense of disturbance is further escalated when he is
visited by the ghost of his father. It claims to be the victim of a political
conspiracy in which Claudius, Hamlet’s uncle, has usurped the throne by
poisoning Hamlet’s father and seducing his mother. Unlike other Shakespearean
tragedies Hamlet is neither packed with raging actions nor sweeping
romances, but what it derives its strength from is an intense exploration of
the psychological depth of its tragic hero.
Besides many things, the use of melancholic
monologues, layered characterisation and a problematic ethical standpoint, make
this play a critic’s favourite. As a result, there is no dearth of research on
it, Hamlet has been extensively and exhaustively looked at and explored
from varied theoretical perspectives; ranging from the psychoanalytical to the
phenomenological, from the feminist to ecocritical. This paper seeks to focus
on one aspect of ecocriticism, namely ‘ecophobia’ to re-think Hamlet’s piquing
misogyny in the play. Even at the cost of committing an anachronistic fallacy,
it is tempting to trace a connection between Hamlet’s perception of women and
his relationship with the natural world. The paper tries to read Hamlet’s
disgust for the female sex through an exploration of his androcentric
tendencies. By paralleling Gertrude and Ophelia with environmental
unpredictability and environmental incomprehensibility, I try to offer an
alternative understanding of Hamlet and his misogyny.
Ecocriticism can serve as a vantage point for the
emergence of a new approach in the field of Hamlet studies by laying
bare the antagonistic underpinnings of Hamlet’s relation to nature, in
juxtaposition to the female characters’ proclivity for all things natural. Both
nature and women serve as deconstructive forces in the play that not only evidence
the fault lines running through the structure of patriarchal domination, but
also anticipate its disintegration. The natural world revolts Hamlet because he
happens to see in it a manifestation of what he believes to be the ‘innate
impurity’ of the female sex. Even a cursory reading of the play reveals that
Hamlet’s evocation of imageries from the natural world is undercut, by his
strong sense of disgust for it. The world for him is an “unweeded garden / That
grows to seed. Things rank and gross in nature” (1.2. 135-36); the bountiful
earth is perceived by him as “a sterile promontory” while the very air he
breathes is “nothing to [him] but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours”
(2.2.299-03); the descending night impresses upon his psyche as “hell itself”
that “breathes out / Contagion to this world” (3.2.395-97); and each one of
Claudius’s “crimes broad blown” in their abject brazenness strikes Hamlet
ironically, “as flush as May” (3.3.81). Likewise, Hamlet’s relationship with
Gertrude is sustained by a similar sense of loathing. He deems her marriage
with Claudius to be an exercise in desecration which unless atoned “will skin
and film the ulcerous place / Whiles rank corruption, miming all within, /
Infects unseen” (3.4.148-50); her assertion of desire and agency nauseates
Hamlet to the point of envisioning her steeped “ in the rank sweat of an
enseamed bed, / Stewed in corruption, honeying and making love / Over a nasty
sty” (3.4.94-96); she is often regarded to be at the root of the nation’s moral
bankruptcy, “Importing Denmark’s health, and England’s too, / With ho! Such
bugs and goblins…” (5.2.21-22); and in case she fails to “Repent what’s past.
Avoid what is to come;” the “compost on the weed” of her presumed vice will
make the place “ranker” (3.4.151-53).
Disgust as a potent literary trope in Hamlet has been
extensively studied by critics such as Wilson, Paglia, and Mack. For instance,
Wilson claims that “the world of Hamlet is drenched in filth” (Wilson 111). He
draws on the theories of Freud and Kristeva to show how Hamlet’s contact with
literal and metaphorical filth allows him to project his guilt and shame
through the expression of disgust. Maynard Mack, in his illuminating analysis
of several aspects of the narrative space Hamlet inhabits, analyses upon the
theme of disgust in context to infirmity and disease (Mack 58). He claims that
Claudius is the polluting factor in the play, whose singular act of regicide is
the “fatal centre from where the unwholesomeness spreads out till there is
something rotten in all Denmark” (58). Camille Paglia traces the trajectory of
Hamlet’s repugnance as it shifts from his “suicidal self-disgust”, to his
“thoughts of the world” as a “rank and gross” place and culminates in his
“lurid visualisation of his mother’s sex life amid rumpled ‘incestuous sheets’”
by the end (Paglia 93-94). Her theorization of disgust is an attempt at rooting
Hamlet’s desire for death in his propensity for acute self-condemnation.
Hamlet’s fixation with filth is articulated through
his sense of disgust that is simultaneously anti-environmental and misogynist
in nature. This implies the intersectionality between gender and nature. An
ecocritical investigation of the curious overlapping of these mutually
exclusive discourses can help us read Hamlet as an essentially androcentric
force in the text, that seeks to render both women and nature, passive. Thus, Hamlet’s
disgust can be interpreted as a manifestation of what Simon C. Estok claims to
be, the “ecophobic” tendencies of his character. To quote Estok, “Hamlet
ecophobically condemns the natural world. This is a man whose strong concerns
with purifying his social world result in a discursive putrefying of the
natural world. (Simon 87-88). Coined by Estok back in 1995, the term ‘ecophobia’
“denote[s] fear and loathing of the environment in much the same way that the
term ‘homophobia’ denotes fear and loathing of gays, lesbians, and bisexuals”
(Estok 213). In the process of unpacking mankind’s ontological fear of the
natural world, Estok elaborates on how such a fright is primarily based on our
collective inability to predict the ways of nature. Although Estok’s essay does
a commendable job in voicing out the ecophobic concerns in Hamlet yet it fails
to see how the tragic hero’s contempt for the natural world is also an
essentially gendered one.
Women in the play are just as unpredictable as nature
itself and consequently, a constant source of challenge and fear to the
patriarchal power structure. To quote Hamlet, “O most pernicious woman! O
villain, villain, smiling, damned villain! […] That one may smile, and smile,
and be a villain. At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark” (1.5.105-08).
Proclamations such as this abound in the narrative and are primarily suggestive
of Hamlet’s conception of women as ontologically erratic and volatile creatures
with a natural predilection for tricking men. Nine out of ten times a male
character elaborates on the theme of deception and duplicity, he takes recourse
to misogyny. For example, Claudius likens his act of lying to that of a
“harlot” applying colours on her face; “The harlot’s cheek, beautified with
plastering art, / Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it / Than is my deed
to my most painted word. O heavy burden!” (3.1.51-54); Hamlet pondering on the
futility of physical appearances with Yorick’s skull in his hand philosophises,
“Now get to my lady’s chamber and tell her, let her paint an inch / thick, to
this favour she must come. Make her laugh at that” (5.1.189-92). In a way,
besides foregrounding the play’s thematic preoccupation with the disjunction
between appearance and reality, the recurrent references to this ‘feminine’ art
of using cosmetics also underscore its bionomic concerns. Man’s inability to
read the signs of nature and foresee environmental changes alongside his fear
of being victimized by ecological disharmonies causes him to distrust nature
and loathe it. Likewise, a failure on part of men like Claudius and Hamlet to
reconcile with the existence and assertion of female sexuality is integral to
their understanding of women. Elsewhere, in his reading of The Winter’s Tale
Estok argues that in Shakespearean plays the dichotomy between good and evil is
often played out in terms of the equation female characters share with nature.
To quote him, “the environment is a viscous space of bears and wolves, or else
a beautiful place of fertility and abundance; women are liars, shrews, and
lechers all, or else they are chaste, guiltless, or otherwise guileless” (93).
In the fictional world of Hamlet, both nature and women are rendered
passive and loathsome because its tragic hero is unable to decipher either.
The symbolic refusal of Gertrude to be categorized by
Hamlet’s extremely parochial and masculinist perceptions of gender roles causes
him to blaspheme the entire female sex: “Frailty, thy name is woman” proclaims
he, quite early on in the play (1.2). Estok contends “theorizing ecophobia
means recognizing the importance of control” humanity has over the natural
world (5). According to him, “Human history is often a history of controlling
the natural environment” and the prospect of ever losing that control instils
in humans a sense of fear. Every time environmental unpredictability is
foregrounded through some natural disaster, mankind’s presupposed superiority
over nature suffers a crisis and it ends up painting “Nature [as] the hateful
object in need of control, the loathed and feared thing that can only result in
tragedy if left uncontrolled” (6). Likewise, Gertrude stands for an open
signifier in Hamlet’s phallocentric system of symbolisation. He simply cannot
fathom how after having a husband comparable to Hyperion himself, could she
possibly stoop so low as to take Claudius for her man, who is no better than a
satyr, “Look you now what follows: here is your husband [Claudius] like a
mildewed ear, blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes? Could you on this
fair mountain leave to feed and batten on this moor? (3.4. 71-74). The presence
of Gertrude’s gendered and sexualised body which simultaneously desires and
evokes desire upsets Hamlet at an existential level. At this point, one can
draw a parallel between the environmental unpredictability and the idea of
women as non-interpretable, ever-evolving entities, since both are equally
potent in subverting the patriarchal power structure. In context to his
inability to come to terms with this multifaceted, indefinable, indeterminate
and unpredictable world of female desires Hamlet notes “I have heard of your
paintings well enough. God hath given you one face and you make yourselves
another [...] it hath made me mad” (3.1.143-48).
Estok traces Hamlet’s persistent perception of the
natural world as a rotten, filthy place to his androcentric anxieties in face
of the environmental unpredictability. To quote Estok, “What makes rot of such
concern to theories about ecophobia is—among other things—its imagined
unpredictability, its willy-nilly transgressions and blurring of borders, and
its perceived alliance with an antagonistic nature” (87). This nexus of disgust
and ecophobia is also played out within the corporeal limits of the female
body. As the narrative progresses, we realise that Hamlet perceives the female
body as a site of proliferating pollution. In one of the most critically
acclaimed scenes of the play, Hamlet asks Ophelia: “Get thee to a nunnery, why
wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners?” (3.1.121-22). The dialogue highlights
how a patriarchal mode of contemplation culturally encodes the womb as a
polluting source which if left ungoverned will contaminate the entire human
race. The rhizomatic dispersion of foulness from the infectious centre of
Gertrude’s “nasty sty” to the rest of Denmark, becomes a potent imagery for a
contagious disease that has fed on mankind, rendering it sick to the core. In
one of Hamlet’s ribald soliloquies concerning Gertrude’s re-marriage with
Claudius, she is portrayed as an embodiment of disease: “Why, she would hang on
him as if increase of appetite has grown by what it fed on” (1.2. 143-145). As
can be inferred, the multiple ruptures in the structure of womanhood as
constructed and appropriated by phallocentric discourses are primarily
channelled through fear, paranoia, anxiety and disgust in the play. The reading
of Gertrude’s character in this light exposes how the easy susceptibility of a
gendered body to patriarchal invasion invests it with the dual connotations of
both a disease-producing agent and the disease itself. This interstitial state
of being suspended between categories that threaten to destabilize
distinctions, is perhaps what makes female bodies such apt sites of pollution
in the popular imagination.
Mary Douglas in Purity and Danger: An Analysis of
Concepts of Pollution and Taboo (1966) argues that the idea of pollution
can be explored in a cultural context to understand how boundaries are shaped and
sustained between different communities (120). Estok cites her in his claim
that, “The polluting person is always in the wrong” and likewise the space
s(he) inhabits is labelled as filthy and exclusive (114). In line of this
contention, it becomes clear that Gertrude’s actions in the narrative are
always already predicated on her identity as an outsider and Other. In the
text, she is framed as an ontologically impure creature who by default happens
to be a wrongdoer. Ironically, even Gertrude at some points seems to indulge
Hamlet in his misogynistic theories about women. For instance, when Hamlet
holds her guilty of committing a mortal sin, she confesses “Thou turnest mine
eyes into my very soul, / And there I see such black and grained spots / As will
not leave their tinct” (3.4.90-92). This is a very convenient move on part of
patriarchy because it renders reductive the question of Gertrude’s agency in
the entire narrative. If her status as a ‘pollutant’ is biologically sanctioned
by her sexual orientation as argued by Hamlet, the possibility of ever reading
Gertrude’s actions as a feminist assertion of her right to libidinal
gratification is already negated. Likewise, Hamlet’s tendency to vilify the
natural world at the cost of promoting androcentrism can also be read as an act
of denying nature its agency. To quote Estok, man’s relationship with nature is
one “of first imagining agency and intent in nature and then quashing that
imagined agency and intent” to assert his superiority (6). Similarly, in Hamlet’s
vision, nature exists not as an actant force, but as a passive response to the
human condition. His inability to break away from the typically humanistic
inclination to look at and think of things with the self at the centre prevents
him from noticing the agency of nature in human lives: But I have that within
which passes show/ These but the trappings and the suits of woe”, says he (1.2.
85-86). In his study of The Winter’s Tale, Estok has encapsulated the
discussions on agency, women and nature by arguing:
If nature is made to resemble people in the psychology
that is ascribed to it, we do not see pain or suffering similarly ascribed to
nature. When it suits the play to anthropomorphize, it anthropomorphizes.
Nature may be manipulated and exploited (cross- breeding is the chief example
in this play), but it does not suffer or complain. Not so, for people who are
manipulated and exploited (Estok 96).
What tempts one to insert an ecophobic angle in the discursive
relationship between pollutants and the female body, is how both tend to
encroach on boundaries set by man. Just as the body is vulnerable to
patriarchal impregnation from outside, similarly the state of balance in
ecology can be usurped via potentially impregnating agents like pollutants. Such
a reading upturns the masculinist/androcentric claims that women/nature are
hostile opponents of man/civilization by implying that it is patriarchy that
pollutes. By the end of the play we realise that little of the rottenness of
Denmark derives from either women or nature, rather it is the male characters’
anxieties about maintaining power within a corrupt political elite that is
projected on women and nature.
Hamlet’s ecophobia can also be analysed from the
perspective of his relationship with his conscious object of desire in the
play, i.e., Ophelia. Although she occupies an almost peripheral space in the
narrative yet her presence and subsequently her absence, play significant roles
in determining the tragic import of the play. Although with the pre-Raphaelites
Ophelia did emerge as a potent cultural trope in the 19th century, her
resurrection was restricted essentially to the realms of aesthetics and she did
not transcend into the field of Shakespearean criticism. Unlike the sustaining
focus on her visual presence in the play, she as a literary figure is mostly
rendered invisible within the critical domain. In many ways, the male
interventions exclude Ophelia from the central actions of the play alongside
determining her material fate. She is manipulated by Hamlet, dictated on her
virtue by both her father and brother, and exploited as a device to stay in the
King’s favour by Polonius. Deprived therefore of thought, autonomy over her
sexuality and finally even language, afraid of her relations, her love and
life, she is driven to madness.
Laertes
defines Ophelia’s discourse as “A document in madness: thoughts and remembrance
fitted” as she goes on listing names of flowers hardly making any sense
(4.5.178-179). This particular scene has played a pivotal role in the tradition
of ecocritical reading of Ophelia’s character. Bridget Gellert Lyons reads the
flower symbolism as an articulation of the disjunction between the vitality of
natural wilderness and the sterility of urbanised civilisation. To quote her,
the flora imagery establishes a “difference between […] an ordered world of
shared symbolic meanings and the murky world of intrigue and mental disorder
that exists in Denmark; between a mythical world of natural fertility and
innocence, and an urban or courtly world of deception and calculation” (63).
Rebecca Laroche de-codes the flora imagery by charting out the medicinal
properties of the flowers mentioned in Hamlet to seek an alternative
ending to the play. She argues that Ophelia’s flowers hold the promise of an
antidote to the “poison” that has permeated Denmark. To quote her, “Ophelia
belongs to another, perhaps more simple, herb-filled world, in which plants can
restore one’s stability of mind and can ease pain and are not used for, but are
rather used against, poisoning” (220). Although Martha C. Ronk interprets the
flowers as symbolic of Ophelia’s functioning sexuality and susceptibility to
physical violation by aligning her arguments with Freudian theories on the
libido and the ‘Thanatos’, at one point she notes: “Within the play itself her
[Ophelia’s] iconography is contradictory as she appears both as the goddess of
nature and a debased version of the same” (24). Reina ANAMOTO’s work can be
referred to as an insightful investigation of Ophelia’s psyche through an
exposition of the traditional Elizabethan meanings behind each flower she
mentions. But most of the ecocritical studies of her character focus on the
interplay between nature and the female experiential reality. But since my
argument is centred around Hamlet and his ecophobia, I have tried to trace the
elements of the environment in the incoherence, incomprehensibility,
inconsistency, and confusion of her discourse, because language happens to be a
significant ground on which androcentrism differentiates itself from
environmentalism.
Language, therefore, becomes a tool in the hands of
androcentric forces to consolidate their power over the natural world. Hamlet
takes pride in man’s ability to yield linguistic authority as opposed to other
non-human animals. This, he believes gives man an upper hand in his
relationship with nature. To quote him, “What is a man, / Is his chief good and
market of his time / Be but to sleep and feed? / A beast, no more. / Sure He
hath made us with such large discourse [...] That capability and godlike reason
/ To fust in us unused” (4.4.32-39). In this context, if we focus on the
relationship between Hamlet and Ophelia then we can gain further insight into
his ecophobia. For a man like Hamlet whose virility resides in language, the
subjects of his domination, i.e., women and the environment must ideally lack a
voice. But Ophelia as an embodiment of nature itself threatens to unhinge
Hamlet’s language control by simply escaping symbolisation. Intended or
otherwise, there is a lack of communication between them: “You jig and amble,
and you lisp. You nickname God’s creatures and make your wantonness your
ignorance” says Hamlet of Ophelia and further adds “Go to, I’ll no more on’t.
It hath made me mad” (3.1.145-148). He is clearly exasperated and seems too
eager to terminate the conversation. This is interesting given how Hamlet needs
little encouragement to indulge in verbosity. Perhaps Ophelia stands for the
incomprehensibility innate in natural phenomena and consequently is a factor
responsible for aggravating Hamlet’s ecophobia. Ecocritical readings have often
elaborated on the human tendency to enter into a hostile relationship with
nature only to seek in it an idealisation of the self. A similar possibility
occurs in the play when one realises that whatever Hamlet aspires to be,
Ophelia already is. Whether it is his dissembling madness, desiring to become
incomprehensible or wishing to die, Ophelia without even trying to,
accomplishes all three of these.
David Laird notes in his analysis of Leontes from The
Winter’s Tale, “To control language, to exercise the power to name,
categorize, and classify is an essential weapon in the arsenal of things
Leontes uses to control his world” (27) and the same can be said of Hamlet.
Thus, when Ophelia faces him with a discourse where there is infinite scope for
meaning to proliferate in absolute ambiguity, his fear of the unknown is blown
out of proportion. Unlike the complex multi-voiced import of Hamlet’s speeches
which is performative, in the case of Ophelia’s it is ontological. This is made
quite clear in the following exchange between them: OPHELIA you are as good as
a chorus, my lord / HAMLET I could interpret between you and your love, if I
could see the puppets dallying” (3.2.254-56). The word “chorus” is noteworthy because
it draws attention to Hamlet’s discourse as not only rhetorical but also
theatrically designed. Here we see a precarious patriarchal discourse trying in
vain to hold its ground against the disruptions of a non-phallocentric
linguistic force. Bruce Boehrer in his book Shakespeare Among the
Animals: Nature and Society In the Drama of Early Modern England (2002) has
argued extensively against what he calls the ‘absolute anthropomorphism’ of
Hamlet. To quote him, “this sense of human superiority, founded in the
capacities for reason and speech, helps frame the natural world as a consumable
asset: in effect as human property, to be employed for the human community’s
convenience and advantage” (14).
In conclusion, it is important to understand that doing ecocriticism with Shakespeare is firstly and foremost an anachronistic move. There are several limitations to such a reading some of which have been quite rightly pointed out by Greg Garrad. He argued in his seminar on “Green Shakespeares” (2005), that most of the Bard’s plays are not overtly concerned with the natural world or non-human animals and secondly, there were hardly any environmental issues affecting the ecological balance in his times unlike ours, that could have influenced Shakespeare. Estok has countered the latter part of the argument by citing the perils of air pollution that Elizabethan England had suffered for a long time. It is keeping these shortcomings in mind, that I have tried to zoom in on some selected scenes in the play concerning Hamlet, Gertrude and Ophelia to understand if an intersectional reading between female oppression, anti-environmentalism and the functioning of oppressive patriarchal power structures is possible. In the case of Gertrude, I have focussed on how the experiential trope of disgust as a response to Gertrude’s assertion of sexuality can be interpreted as Hamlet’s ecophobia. While with Ophelia, I have paid attention to her discourse to conceptualise Hamlet’s ecophobia in the face of the environmental incomprehensible.
Works
cited
ANAMOTO,
Reina. “The Symbolic Use of Flowers and Herbs in Hamlet: through
Gertrude’s Realization of Her Sin and Ophelia’s Madness”. 2005. Seijo
University, graduate dissertation. Google, https://www.seijo.ac.jp/graduate/falit-grad-school/english-literature/academic-journals/jtmo4200000068jr-att/a1623983887249.pdfhttps://www.seijo.ac.jp/graduate/falit-grad-school/english-literature/academic-journals/jtmo4200000068jr-att/a1623983887249.pdf.
Accessed 28 Nov. 2022.
Boeherer,
Bruce. “How to Do Things with Animals”. Shakespeare Among the Animals:
Nature and Society in the Drama of Early Modern England. Palgrave
Macmillan, 2002, pp. 1-40. JSTOR, https://libgen.is/book/index.php?md5=EF123359EB8D5192CBE454461AAFF827.
Accessed 28 Nov 2022.
Estok,
Simon C. “Doing Ecocriticism with Shakespeare: An Introduction”. Ecocriticism
and Shakespeare: Reading Ecophobia, Palgrave Macmillan, 2011, pp. 1-17. Library
Genesis, https://libgen.is/book/index.php?md5=2189C77584A59A5352865313EE13B23E.
Accessed 26 Nov 2022.
---.
“Disgust, Metaphor, Women: Ecophobic Confluences”. Ecocriticism and
Shakespeare: Reading Ecophobia, Palgrave Macmillan, 2011, pp. 1-17. Library
Genesis, https://libgen.is/book/index.php?md5=2189C77584A59A5352865313EE13B23E.
Accessed 26 Nov 2022.
Laird,
David. “Competing discourses in The Winter’s Tale”. Connotations,
vol. 4, no. 1-2, 1994-95, pp. 25-43.
Laroche,
Rebecca. “Ophelia’s Plants and the Death of the Violets”. Ecocritical
Shakespeare, edited by Lynne Bruckner and Dan Brayton, Ashgate, 2011, pp.
211-220. Library Genesis, https://libgen.is/book/index.php?md5=1C33ED9320DDD0285EF40BEA59CB2411.
Accessed 30 Nov. 2022.
Lyons,
Bridget Gellert. “The Iconography of Ophelia”. ELH, vol. 44, no. 1, John
Hopkins UP, 1977, pp. 60-74. JSTOR, https://www.jstor.org/stable/2872526.
Accessed 30 Nov 2022.
Mack,
Maynard. “The World of Hamlet”. Tragic Themes in Western Literature, edited by
Cleanth Brooks, Yale UP, 1955, pp. 58.
Paglia,
Camille. Sexual Personae: Art and Decadence from Nefertiti to Emily
Dickinson, Vintage, 1990. Library Genesis, https://libgen.is/book/index.php?md5=C01D5364E0190606A4EDB2E269543AD4.
Accessed 02 Dec 2022.
Ronk,
Martha C. “Representation of ‘Ophelia’”. Criticism, vol. 36, no. 1,
Wayne State UP, 1994, pp. 21-43. JSTOR, https://www.jstor.org/stable/23116623. Accessed
10 Dec 2022.
Shakespeare,
William. Hamlet, edited by T.J.B Spencer, 1st ed., Penguin
Books, 1980.
Wilson,
Robert Rawdon. “Its Lair: The Representation of Filth”. The Hydra’s Tale:
Imagining Disgust, U of Alberta P, 2002, pp. 83-132. Internet Archive,
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Accessed 28 Nov 2022.
Bio: Ankita Sen is interested in popular culture (cinema and web-series), contemporary feminist fictions, culinary culture in literature and gender studies.
Nidhi Thakur1 & Prof. Arjun
Kumar2
Badal
Sircar is one of the most prominent post-colonial playwrights in Indian English
Literature. The socio-political turmoil of the contemporary period is very much
depicted by him in his serious plays. His play, Evam Indrajit (And
Indrajit), demonstrates or examines some of the frustrations and dilemmas
of the Indian middle class and the reality of poverty and unemployment
prevailing at that time. This article tries to locate the motifs such as
identity crisis, meaninglessness of modern life and meaninglessness of
existence that ultimately produces Indrajit as an Absurd Hero in the
post-colonial period. The study also tries to present how the loneliness of
post-independent urban youth makes Indrajit question his existence and identity
in this society. Indrajit as an Absurd Hero perceives the world as meaningless
and irrational and thereby revolts against the dynamics of power which are
pervasive within societal institutions. The objective of this study is to
scrutinize the ways in which Indrajit in Badal Sircar’s play, Evam Indrajit
resists the absurdity of modern existence, ideological expectations and the
dialectics of power in social institutions. Indrajit, to rebel and resist typifies
Camus’s Absurd Hero, Sisyphus, and like him Indrajit continuously struggles to
find meaning and purpose in this meaningless, purposeless life.
Keywords: Absurd Hero,
Identity Crisis, Absurdity, Sisyphus, Post-colonial
Introduction
Albert
Camus in his The Myth of Sisyphus defines absurd as: “The absurd is born
as a result of the confrontation between the human need and the unreasonable silence of the
world” (Camus 78). In literature, this world seems irrational and meaningless
to the absurd heroes. Because of this perception of the world absurd heroes revolt, struggle, and raise their voice of
resistance against the dynamics of power which are pervasive within societal
institutions. According to Foucault, “power is in a constant state of flux as
it is - everywhere, - comes from everywhere” (Foucault 63) and operates as a
means of disciplining individuals. Foucault says that these dialectics of power
function within the structures and institutions of administration, authority
and bureaucracy within society. Such institutional structures can be identified
as the government, prison, school, church, factory, office and hospital etc.
(63).
Evam
Indrajit based on the philosophy of
the absurd, engages in a critical analysis of the dialectics of power within societal
institutions to examine how they operate in absurd, meaningless and irrational
manners. This research is based on a study of the absurd and revolt of
protagonist, Indrajit of the play namely Evam Indrajit by Badal Sircar
(1925-2011). He is widely recognized as the unofficial leader of experimental
theatre in Kolkata, and his works have been translated into several Indian
languages. Badal Sircar’s Evam Indrajit was born at and out of a time of
political and cultural flux. This play was originally written as a poem in the
year 1957 in London. However, later on, the play
was produced in Calcutta (formerly Kolkata) in 1963. Sircar had been written
when Indian, and especially Bengali society and culture, were in the throes of
a conversion. The Government that was in power in the State of West Bengal at
that time was a Congress one, but the Communist Party of India was growing
increasingly popular. Part of the reason for this was that millions of refugees
from the erstwhile East Pakistan had poured into Bengal and that food,
employment and even shelter was in short supply. The deteriorating economic
condition of the state coupled with what was perceived to be widespread
corruption in the functioning of the government led to feelings of
dissatisfaction and even frustration spreading amongst large sections of the
populace, particularly of the lower middle-class segments. The middle class
which was economically more secure, had their own aspirations. Since a great
many of them were educated with college degrees and they had found employment
in jobs that left them with a certain amount of leisure time, they turned to
the pursuit and enjoyment of culture.
It is a
landmark play by Badal Sircar in which he tries to present the loneliness of
post-Independence urban youth with remarkable accuracy. His main concern is the
meaninglessness of modern life where the youth have no goals to live by and
this makes people like Indrajit angry at the meaninglessness of their
existence. Satyadev Dubey in the Introduction of this play wrote:
With the
performance of Sircar’s Evam Indrajit in Bengali in Calcutta in
September 1965, theatre practitioners all over India became aware of a major
talent and a major play. The play provided for them the shock of recognition.
It was about the Indian reality as they knew; it was a theatrically effective
and crystallized projection of all the prevalent attitudes, vague feelings and
undefined frustrations gnawing at the hearts of the educated urban middle
class. (2)
The
objective of this study is to scrutinize the ways and means in which the
character and protagonist, Indrajit in Sircar’s play, Evam Indrajit revolts
against the absurdity of modern existence, ideological expectations and the
dialectics of power in social institutions.
Absurd Hero
According
to Merriam-Webster Dictionary, absurdism refers to - a philosophy based on the
belief that the universe is irrational and meaningless and that the search for
order brings the individual into conflict with the universe. The devastation,
massive destruction and loss of lives in Europe during the twentieth century
such as the two world wars, led to a shattering of faith, religion and belief
on God. People started questioning the innate goodness of humans who were
capable of such overwhelming violence, terror and bloodshed. At such a chaotic
time people started problematizing essentialist views on humans being offered a
predestined fate by God. It was during these times that absurdism started
getting more popularity as a philosophical doctrine. It enabled people to
embrace the ―complexity [of the] human condition [in an absurd world] to
confront [themselves] with the bitter truth that most human endeavor is
irrational and senseless. (Esslin 13). Thus, absurdism offered individuals means
of coming to terms with their absurd reality in life.
In his ―The
Myth of Sisyphus Camus elucidates on the absurd hero by reinterpreting the
Greek Mythological tale of Sisyphus. Sisyphus was the King of Ephyra and was
condemned by Zeus for his deception to roll an immense boulder up a hill, only
to watch it come back to hit him, repeating this action for eternity. Camus
reflects on the return journey of Sisyphus and instead focusing on the futility
of the laborious task of Sisyphus, identifies him as an absurd hero who carries
a tragic fate but still struggles against it. It is this struggle which gives
him his dignity. His fate belongs to him (Camus 76).
According
to Camus, it is not only the struggle which gives the absurd hero his dignity,
it is the revolt as well. Camus says that the revolt is ―the certainly of a
crushing fate, without the resignation that ought to accompany it. (Camus 31).
He further deliberates upon the notion of the revolt to state that, ―[t]he
struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man‘s heart. One must
imagine Sisyphus happy! (Camus 78).
Thus, the
absurd hero according to Camus resists by struggling and revolting against a
tragic fate before succumbing to it, instead of despairing with resignation
when faced with it.
Methodology
This study
is based on the methodology of a textual analysis of a play namely, Evam
Indrajit by Badal Sircar. This story is also the primary source of data
used in this research. It was originally written in Bengali and then translated
into English by Girish Karnad. In this research the version which has been
translated to English has been used.
The Absurd
Hero, namely Indrajit in the aforesaid play, Evam Indrajit is subjected
to an absurd fate due to the dialectics of power in modern society and is
surrounded by overbearing social systems. These systems represented in Sircar's
play are significant in this research. They are beneficial in terms of engaging
in a study of how the protagonists resist such overwhelming power and control in
overt, direct and confrontational ways.
Furthermore,
this study incorporates a deductive theoretical approach. This facilitates the
engagement with already established theories on the philosophy of the absurd,
revolt, ideology, power and discipline. These theories are the secondary
sources of data incorporated in this research. These are applied to conduct a
thorough and comprehensive analysis of this play to scrutinize the engagement
with the absurd and revolt in these fictionalized postcolonial settings of
Sircar’s narratives
Results and Discussions
The
protagonist‘s revolt against the pervasive power of social institutions and
ideological expectations can be interpreted from the title of the novel itself.
The very title Evam Indrajit (And Indrajit) suggests that the
protagonist is having so many identities in the society along with one of his
own identities as Indrajit and that is why the title is And Indrajit. Indrajit
observes that:
Writer:
...Tell me truly, what’s your name?
Fourth:
Indrajit Ray
Writer:
Then why did you call yourself Nirmal?
Indrajit:
I was scared?
Writer:
Scared of unrest. One invites unrest by breaking the norm. (Karnad 5)
Through the
protagonist, Indrajit, Sircar is able to engage in a subversive social critique
of the absurdity and meaninglessness of social institutions, power structures
and governing mechanisms by revealing how they are deeply entrenched within the
society. These overwhelming power dynamics which are in place in the social
institutions serve as a disciplinary mechanism to deprive the individual of his
power and agency. Thus, Sircar’s hero in this play is usually oppressed,
suppressed and restricted as Indrajit in order to discipline himself according
to the rules and regulations imposed by the authoritative social institutions
within the narratives.
In engaging
with his absurd crisis Indrajit confronts and revolts against the social
expectations imposed upon him by the overwhelming power wielded by the
governing authorities within social institutions in an overt and direct manner.
He asks:
Indrajit:
Is there a rule that one has to abide by rules?
Mansi:
What else can one do?
Indrajit:
One can hate rules. Why should they be there at all?
Mansi:
What would be the point of hating them?
Indrajit:
What’s the point of worshipping the rope that binds you?
Mansi:
I’m not asking you to worship it.
Indrajit:
But you are! If the rope is a rule and you accept it happily- that is
worshipping it.
Mansi:
What else would you do with it?
Indrajit:
Perhaps- tear it into shreds. Bring down all these walls which surround us.
Mansi:
And who are you supposed to be fighting?
Indrajit:
The world! The people around us! What you call society... (Karnad 21-22)
To
interpret the above dialogues, this research refers to Camus‘s theoretical
concept of the absurd hero‘s revolt. For Camus, the absurd man is the one who
accepts the challenge lucidly as the basis for his revolt is to struggle
against the absurd fate which is imposed upon him. Camus believes that this
revolt and resistance will give the absurd hero dignity. This is the reason why
he does not identify Sisyphus from Greek Mythology as a tragic character who
has been subjected to damnation. He says that, ―[o]ne must imagine Sisyphus
happy‖ (Camus 78) despite the eternal punishment he is made to undergo by Zeus.
The
implication of imagining Sisyphus as happy despite his tragic fate can be
likened to the absurd crisis which Indrajit undergoes as well. This is due to
the fact that, it is actually Indrajit‘s assurance of himself and how he abides
by his own principles that give him dignity as an absurd hero. He says, “If I
hadn’t tasted the fruit of knowledge, I could have gone on living in this paradise
of your blessed society of rules. Now I can only batter my head against the
wall.” (Karnad 23). Sircar is thus able
to emphasize on the subversive potential of this play against social
institutions by demonstrating Indrajit‘s strong individual streak and
passionate outburst of his own individuality after realizing the absurdity of
his world and his existence. Like the absurd hero Sisyphus whom Camus imagines
to be happy in his essay, Indrajit knows that his struggle is hopeless but
still continues to do so. This gives him dignity.
Works Cited
***
Author’s Bio: Nidhi Thakur is currently a Research Scholar at the department of English, Patna University, Patna. She received B.A. (Hons.) Degree in English from Banaras Hindu University, Varanasi, and master’s degree in English from Banaras Hindu University only. Her area of research is the Theatre of Absurd and the philosophy of Existentialism. Apart from this, she is also interested in Metaphysical Poetry, Film Studies, Comparative Literature, Feminism and Post-Modernism.
Co-author's Bio: Prof. Arjun Kumar is currently working as a Professor and Head of the Department of English, Patna University, Patna. His area of research was American Literature (Jewish writer, Bernard Malamud). He is also interested in English literature and language. He has teaching experience of more than 26 years at various universities. Several research papers were published in national and international journals of great repute. There are several books to his credit.
A
plush apartment in Mumbai. A woman sitting in front of a laptop and doing some
work. Aruna Chaturvedi. A Professor of Linguistics and a writer. Another woman,
a maid, cleaning utensils in the kitchen. Another woman enters. Dolon Sen. A
banker. The maid says that she will not be able to come to work the next day as
her pregnant daughter will come to her house. Aruna does not say anything.
Dolon asks the maid to come as her daughter is just pregnant and not sick. The
maid replies that she will be unable to come even if it means that she might
lose her job. Then she comments on how ‘these’ women will never understand the
importance of the situation as they have not married, neither do they have
children. In short they do not know anything about the family life. Soon after,
another woman (once a man) is introduced to us. Mira, a film director, who has
undergone a sex reassignment surgery and is about to make a documentary on her
own life. Later on, their friend
Subhadra Parekh, a journalist who "lives life to the fullest", drops
in after her lover beats her up.
Ten
minutes into the film and yet we do not come across any male character. In fact
there has not been any male character throughout the film, except in a few
references (Peter, Mira’s boyfriend, Sangram, Subi’s husband and Avinash,
Aruna’s ex). Immediately the film strikes a chord. Here we have women who have
lived their lives on their own terms. They are successful in terms of their
career. The apartment is a proof of their social status for which they are not
dependent on any man. The voice of the maid acts like the voice of the society,
the outer world (as against their inner world, the cocooned apartment), which
has always judged women on the basis of their family life. As said by one of
the characters (Mira), these women have fought against “the social stigma”, and
have fought for identity. Then, what exactly does the film tries to convey? A
review of the film notes: “Mouthing theatrical dialogues and addressing a
series of existential questions, the three middle-aged women go about a
seemingly casual evening as if they’re onstage, mulling about how their lives
panned out” (Rosario).
However
the film is much more than that. Taking a cue from John Berger’s enormously
influential book Ways of Seeing, where he has asserted that the way we
see things is affected by what we know or what we believe (Waugh 509), I want
to argue in my paper how the film Sonata deals with the ways in which
things can be seen. The film offers a
number of possible pleasures. There are circumstances in which looking itself
is a source of pleasure. Every now and then we find Dolon looking through the
window of their apartment at another seemingly single and lonely woman in the
opposite building. At one particular scene we find Dolon predicting the actions
of this woman and, interestingly, the woman does the same things. At one point
she says, “… now she will install herself in front of that PC and not move her
ass till midnight” (Sonata 22:20-27); she turns around and finds Aruna
installing herself in front of her PC, saying that though she does not like it,
she has to complete her chapter before their friends arrive. The result is a
total subversion of Alfred Hitchcock’s classic Rear Window (there is a
reference to this film even) and thereby, of the male gaze. Sen’s film has a
female viewer and the gaze is not limited to the voyeuristic gaze. (Though,
quite interestingly, Aruna calls Dolon a “voyeur”.) What Dolon identifies in
this other woman is routine, boredom, friendlessness and loneliness. This runs
parallel to her own realisation that “ we are all in boxes; you, me, that woman
in the window …” (Sonata 21:03-12). Unlike in Rear Window, where
the viewer enjoys what he sees, Dolon here does not take pleasure in what she
sees. She can identify herself with the woman and thus she even tries to help
her out in her own way: “I… waved at her from the window and smiled. She
slammed the windows shut” (Sonata 28:28-32). Later in the film she once
says, “She must be terribly friendless… she looks so alone. … I wonder how she
lives all alone like that. … We’ve been here now what 20 years, I’ve seen her
grow old, slowly, imperceptibly” (Sonata 23:43-24:28). Then she adds, “I want
to see that woman once, all dressed up, wearing make-up, and an expensive
dress, smiling, getting ready to go for a party. Surely this can’t be all that
there’s to her life!”(Sonata 33:12-33:30). In this particular scene
Dolon seems to be in the same position as the cinema audience; she is forced to
see this woman as a spectator, just like us who can only see these women or
rather this film as spectators. On the basis of what Dolon sees, she concludes
about the situation of that woman just like us who, while watching this film,
may think that this film is nothing but another movie about the loneliness of
unmarried and successful women. Isn’t this how middle-aged, unmarried women are
seen by the society? Successful but lonely? We do remember Kate Chopin’s famous
short story, Regret, where the fiftyish unmarried woman realizes how
empty and lonely her life is without a family after she takes care of her
neighbour’s children for a brief period of time. Dolon and Aruna’s friendship
negates this typical mind-set. At the same time they also negate the concept
that women do not like other women or can never think good about other women.
They stand for sisterhood.
Dolon comes across as a fun-loving, bubbly and feisty character as opposed to
the serious Aruna. Aruna, the linguistic
scholar, won’t even stand foul language; she’s comfortable living by the social
code of a time whose scriptures she deciphers. While she’s in her prudish
cocoon, her long-time friend and roommate Dolon is the butterfly that Aruna
never quite morphed into. Dolon is the little devil on Aruna’s shoulder, always
coaxing her into things that she’s uncomfortable with. When Dolon receives a letter
from home, we are not told what is exactly written in the letter. Instead, the
camera focuses on Aruna who tells us the content and the way she says it, shows
that this has always been the content of all the letters that Dolon receives
and has ever received from her ‘home’: “Roof is leaking, need money for
repairs. Mother’s health is failing, losing her vision too. This year Diwali
will be a poor affair; you needn’t bother coming home”(Sonata 18:29-49).
When Aruna tells her to come home with her, she declines the offer by saying
that she has a huge work pressure. Later in the film, at one point, Dolon says
that her Dada has asked for more money this time. The bubbly exterior
gives away to a sad interior. We realise that this successful banker is not
really welcome in her home. To her family she is just a person to provide them
with money and all the comfort that they need. They really do not bother about
her as a person. In this connection we cannot but think of two films- Meghe
Dhaka Tara by Rwitik Ghatak and Ekdin Pratidin by Mrinal Sen- where
the protagonists (in both the cases, the protagonist is a young girl) do not
marry in order to support their families. In fact their families also never try
to marry them off because, in that case, no one would be there to provide for
them. While many feminists are of the opinion that marriage is a patriarchal
institution and hence they refute it, the director of this film has shown the
other side of the story: sometimes the woman does not marry as she cannot
afford to do that; in that case the woman is a victim of the selfishness of her
family. Though this is not within the scope of the film, still we can wonder
why these women have not married: is it a refusal to accept the patriarchal
norm or is there any other reason?
At one point Dolon asks, “Why
do people dislike me?”(Sonata 28:40).Whom does she mean by “people”? The
woman in the opposite apartment who once slammed her windows shut when Dolon
smiled and waved at her? Or her family, who does not want her to come to home
during the festival? Or Aruna?—because she drinks, smokes, eats meat (Aruna is
a Brahmin hence disapproves this ), hugs and kisses; in short, because she is
not as self-controlled as Aruna? The question remains unanswered. It is Dolon
in the film whom we have seen worrying (though not too much) about putting
on weight; it is she who enjoys watching the studs in TV; it is she who says,
cancelling her diet plan and in a not-so-serious tone, that she will eat like a
pig so that she can become so fat that the whole city of Mumbai can be kept
illuminated from 15th August to 26th January as it is the
“body has outlived its purpose if it had any to begin with in the first place”
(Sonata 38:28-31); she is the one who talks about a deep-throat porn
movie; she is the one who sings “ржЖржЬি
ржЭрзЬেрж░ рж░াрждে рждোржоাрж░ ржЕржнিрж╕াрж░ / ржкрж░াржирж╕ржЦা
ржмржи্ржзু рж╣ে ржЖржоাрж░ …”(Sonata
40:31-42:29). Is there any regret behind her decision to not get married? Is there
any longing? From her friend Subi we come to know that once an IT guy, who
settled in Seattle, fell for her but she did not choose him. Is it because of
her family? Or Aruna?... The question remains unanswered.
Another question that might
pop up in our judgemental mind, a question that Aruna even raises in the film,
would be why does Subi, though beaten up by her husband, does not leave him. We
live in a time when we unitedly stand against any crime, domestic violence and
physical abuse against any individual, in general, and women, in particular; we
know that violence against women and girls is a serious violation of their
right to dignity; we encourage the need to take measures by the Government to
minimize rather eliminate these things from the society. During such a time how
can an educated working woman (Subi is a journalist) tolerate this kind of
behaviour, is beyond our understanding. However, having said these things we
have to accept that this is our point-of-view. Subi’s relationship with her
husband does not need to make sense to us; it only needs to make sense to them
or rather to Subi. As she says it’s a man/woman thing and after all, Sangram,
who is the owner of a garage, is not at all a bad fellow; moreover, he is
“good, you know … very good…[in bed]”(Sonata 49:09-11), Subi tells us.
She even adds that she cannot live the life of a “jogan”. Both Aruna and Dolon
can be critical of Sangram, we may not like him (we meet him once in the movie;
it is night, he has come to their complex; he is drunk and shouts Subi’s name
from there); but if the relationship, in spite of all the physical and mental
torture, on a regular basis, makes sense to Subi or if it makes her happy, we
should not question that nor should we impose our ideas on them. Aruna sees
this relationship the way it is seen by us or by the society at large; Subi
adds another dimension to this.
Sex is an important topic of
discussion among these three friends. Sometimes it is about Subi’s share of men
in the world and how she likes to have various relationships or sometimes it’s
about the awkwardness, that they feel must be there between Mira and Peter. Subi
wonders how can Peter have a sexual relationship with someone who was formerly
a man. However the most prominent sexual tension seems to be there between
Aruna and Dolon, who are friends and have been roommates for many years.
As said by a critic, Udita Jhunjhunwala, “Unmarried and childless, they have
the ease and boredom of a couple too comfortable with each other.” We see them
bickering at each other like old couples. They know each other too well. Though
they chide each other at times, still they know how to comfort each other. At
times we feel that they are much more than friends. There are many explicit
references throughout the film that hint towards a possible romantic
relationship between the two women. According to a film reviewer, Kennith Rosario,
“But for two
progressive, English speaking women, they never utter the word “lesbian” while
confronting each other on the topic. Even the impudent Dolon, who otherwise
chastises Aruna for being a prude, stays away from the L-word. It either reflects the ever-prevailing discomfort around homosexuality or the filmmaker’s
myopic characterisation (the one department the film heavily rests on).”
However, it seems a bit problematic that the characters who can have an open discussion on sex reassignment surgery will have any problem in admitting lesbianism. Moreover the question that arises is – why do we always have to name a relationship? How do we differentiate between the various forms of love? Is there any water-tight compartment between them? As the character of Siras says in the movie Aligarh that now-a-days we get stuck to the word itself and never try to understand and feel the word; the various names make the word sound dirty whereas it is a beautiful word. Poetry lies not in the written words but in the pauses between them. Similarly to understand any relationship it’s not compulsory to name it; it is more important to understand the nuances of the relationship. The same thing can be said about Aruna and Dolon. Whether they are lesbian or not is not important. What is important here is the fact that they not only understand each other’s words but also the silences and the pauses. Some of the best scenes of Aruna and Dolon is sheer poetry: for example, the scene where Aruna plays Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight Sonata’ and sits in the chair and gets lost in the music-Dolon looks at her face and then puts a garland in her hair and places the lamp in such a way so that the light falls on Aruna’s face and notices how “lovely” Aruna looks and then says looking at her, “how regal, just like a queen” (Sonata 27:18-21).
As the film progresses many secrets of the past get revealed. We come to know that Aruna once had a relation with a man called Avinash and decided not to be with him because he did not want to settle down. He was a Bohemian, a gypsy; she liked his wildness. But as we have understood so far, she likes to have a conventional lifestyle. A little later Dolon reveals that when Aruna had sent her to Avinash after they departed as, according to her, Avinash would be “ripped apart”, Dolon met him and came back “all full of him”. She went to console him but seeing him in pain she “forgot everything” and surrendered herself to the moment. As she says, she wanted to cover Aruna with that happiness. She goes on to say that he was the only man whom she could have loved because Aruna loved him. In a very Bergmanian style the director presents the two women’s faces, sometimes separately sometimes merging into one, for near about a minute. The close-up scene of Aruna and Dolon’s face seems to remind one of a scene in Persona
where, towards the end, both the faces merged into one. Though here the faces do not merge, we can see their underlying vulnerability and precarious status:
between the openly visible and the smoothly impenetrable. Like in Persona, here also the faces go through all these permutations. Towards the beginning of this article I wrote how “these women have fought against “the social stigma”, and have fought for identity.” By the end of the film the fragile, unworthy, inauthentic selves are peeled away. Both the women are in turn stripped emotionally bare and have moments where they lose their composure. Besides questioning the ethics of stripping the soul naked of all pretence, like Bergman, Sen also shows us both women’s wily and ingenious self-fashioning during their encounters with each other.
The emotionally charged scene gets interrupted by a phone call, from Mira, the friend who was supposed to arrive by 10 o’ clock and who never arrives. Peter has died. Subi calls them to inform that a terrorist attack has taken place at the Taj Mahal Palace & Tower Hotel in Mumbai and asks them to switch on the TV. It is 26th November 2008.
Terrorists have attacked the hotel and several other places including Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus, Oberoi Trident , Nariman House and many others. More than hundreds of people are kept as hostages. The terrorists open fired in the hotel. Many died. More number of people were wounded. The two women sit in front of the TV watching the news. Shocked. The film gradually fades out. In a wonderful way, the director shows us the flitting nature of life itself.