The Subaltern Autobiography: Investigating Agency, Style and Voice
This essay seeks to analyse the agency position asserted by the subaltern women in their autobiographies, the subaltern autobiography as a departure from conventional styles of writing; subversive use of language, preserving the aesthetics of an oral narrative in the written form and the politics of translation as seen in Jameela’s and C.K Janu’s autobiographies and Bama’s Sangati - which stands of particular importance because of its position as documenting the autobiography of a community, raising the question- can a woman’s agency be autonomous?
Nalini Jameela’s Autobiography of a Sex Worker has two main undercurrents: that Jameela took to sex work purely for socio-economic reasons is evident in her detailed account of the early years of her life and the second is her assertion to stand by this profession and treat it like any other. She certainly advocates for a feminism that recognises and accepts this agency; although there are several instances in the book where a better financial position leads her to quit the occupation. There is thus an inherent contradiction to the standpoint. Michael Foucault spoke of agency as arising from the “dialectic of freedom and constraint.” This essentially means that where there is struggle and oppression, an agency subverting that will most naturally arise. It is quite ambiguous if Jameela is standing for sex work as a profession to find salvation from stringent poverty or for sex work as a profession without poverty and other socio-economic reasons clouding the decision. It seems both. Many of the comparisons she makes in the book support the latter as she delves into the idea of sex, free sex and the social constraints when it comes to sex; by comparing sex with professions such as teaching and music, both of which are greatly valued, she is advocating for sex work by bringing in the concept of a Veshya, meaning ‘she who seduces’, deducing that it is the insulting connotations that have come to make all the difference. Does this mean then that we have a culture that is less “progressive” than what we had in the days of Veshyas and courtesans?
There is then a deconstruction of the fundamental ideals based on which sex and sexuality have been based and an honest dissection of ideological and cultural prejudices. This question is very valid: “If, by mutual consent, a man and woman decide to have sex, then what is wrong?” This agency leads us to question her subaltern position in the context of her profession; clearly she refuses to accept “victim” status as most people term it. But there is a growing necessity to understand victimisation as a step to survival power. ‘This 'survivor not victim' approach came to typify a new approach to women in such circumstances, that later reflected in policy and law. Believing women to be victims had led to protectionist, problematic policies but by seeing them as reflective individuals who had the capacity to negotiate and survive what life threw their way, there was an affirmation of their identities that brought into focus their rights.’
That makes it plain that Jameela’s survival capacity and a free mind converge to form an agency emphasising on the power of both a mind and body. This also necessitates the understanding that Jameela’s victim status (relative to her agency) comes from the social taboo of sex and sex workers more than their economic status and living conditions.
However, there is certainly a need to not undermine her fight for dignity and respect for the lives of sex workers, irrespective of the politics of choice.
Sangati captures Bama’s poignant feminist consciousness and assumes a significant place given that it is one of the first female voices to emerge from the Dalit community. She reveals a ‘social vision’; that is, the conviction that no matter how submerged a human being is in the ‘culture of silence’ they are capable of looking at the world critically in a dialogical encounter with others (Freire). Therefore, Bama’s socio-feminist stance comes from oppression as well as a constant investigation. The ambiguity of agency, as seen in Jameela’s doesn’t surface in comparable quality here. It is surprisingly evident that her life history and experiences has been rudimentary in shaping her agency, clearly conforming to Foucault’s theory of freedom and constraint. By detailing the daily lives of the Dalit women of which cold blooded violence forms an inherent part, she shocks with obscene language, the vulgarity and the oppression of the female body. And this is precisely what Dalit writing set out to do. The challenge and revolt therefore, extends to form and content as well, justifying its purpose. ‘Dalit literature describes the world differently, from a Dalit perspective. Therefore, it should outrage and even repel the guardians of caste and class. It should provoke them into asking if this is indeed literature.’ Lakshmi Holmstrom in her introduction to Sangati says that Tamil literature has been stringent in its distinction between the written and the colloquial form- Sen-tamil and Kodun-tamil. Despite gaps being bridged in modern times, Dalit literature is still a striking deviant. ‘If it brings to Tamil Literature subject matter hitherto considered inappropriate, it uses a language hitherto considered unprintable.’
This account could also be bracketed post-colonial where the trinity of religion, men and the upper castes form the coloniser, resulting in a triple marginalisation. Sometimes, women in their ignorance could also play this role; mothers and grandmothers who become the upholders of patriarchy.
Hence, in this ‘writing back’, Bama’s colloquial language could also seen as restoring forms of their oral culture, or as a means of embracing realism. There are multiple instances in Sangati where past events, take the song form and the Paati is the carrier of many stories, myths and legends. It is altogether another issue that these songs and stories themselves become instruments of oppression rather than a means of liberation. But paradoxically, they lead Bama to question the authenticity of these and a realisation that they were meant to suppress women and keep them in fear succeeds in the condemnation of these which becomes the first step to liberation. Apart from that, Bama does draws attention to the many cultural beliefs of the pariah community (the original and not the hybrid form that came to be because of the influx of Christianity) is surprisingly progressive and only a little more conventional than the Adivasi community. Therefore, she “others” the upper caste women in this sense and says that their confinement, financial dependence and a lack of identity without husbands makes them far inferior to the self-sufficient Dalit women.
C.K. Janu’s autobiography, Mother Forest falls under the personal-political categorisation of autobiographies. The agency here arises from continued state oppression of the Adivasi community although the personal voice is milder. Reiterating the theory of the state or government being the colonial power in the postcolonial context, this account authenticates colonial oppression, given the nature of the struggle in a postcolonial context. In fact, Arundhati Roy connects a particular incident of revolt by the Adivasi community to the Jallianwala Bagh Massacre: ‘For the Kerala Police to open fire on a group of hundreds of people including women, children, old people and infants is an act that has few parallels in recent history. The event that comes to mind is Jallianwalah Bagh. … Had they belonged to any other community that mattered to mainstream political parties, the manner in which the crisis and its fallout were handled would have been quite different.’ Mahasweta Devi is one another prominent figure fighting for the rights of the tribal groups, trying to preserve and document a culture increasingly losing its identity.
Unfortunately, Janu never went to school and therefore the autobiography had to be written and translated and it is possible that certain crucial factors could have been lost in the process. However, a tribal voice has come to the centre of the circle restoring the credibility and dynamism of literature.
These autobiographies represent a literary activism of sorts both in their content and form and also in terms of the questions raised. The fact that these have all been translated into English, a language by and large considered mainstream highlights the growing interest towards gritty subaltern voices. To answer Spivak’s loaded question, ‘Can the Subaltern speak?’ Perhaps yes.
References:
http://openspaceindia.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=432&Itemid=112
Autobiography of a Sex Worker, Jameela Nalini, Westland 2005
Autobiography of a Sex Worker, Introduction, J.Devika, Westland 2005
Pedagogy of the Oppressed , Paulo Freire, 1970
Sangati, Bama, Introduction, Lakshmi Holmstrom, OUP, 2005
Mother Forest, Bhaskaran, translated by N.Ravi Shanker, Letter to Chief Minister of Kerala from Arundhati Roy, Women Unlimited, 2004
Marxism and the Interpretation of Culture, Cary Nelson and Lawrence Grossberg, Can the Subaltern speak?, Spivak, 1989
NIHARIKA MALLIMADUGULA is a final year student of Literature from Chennai, India heading to London to pursue her Masters in Cultural Studies at SOAS.
This essay seeks to analyse the agency position asserted by the subaltern women in their autobiographies, the subaltern autobiography as a departure from conventional styles of writing; subversive use of language, preserving the aesthetics of an oral narrative in the written form and the politics of translation as seen in Jameela’s and C.K Janu’s autobiographies and Bama’s Sangati - which stands of particular importance because of its position as documenting the autobiography of a community, raising the question- can a woman’s agency be autonomous?
Nalini Jameela’s Autobiography of a Sex Worker has two main undercurrents: that Jameela took to sex work purely for socio-economic reasons is evident in her detailed account of the early years of her life and the second is her assertion to stand by this profession and treat it like any other. She certainly advocates for a feminism that recognises and accepts this agency; although there are several instances in the book where a better financial position leads her to quit the occupation. There is thus an inherent contradiction to the standpoint. Michael Foucault spoke of agency as arising from the “dialectic of freedom and constraint.” This essentially means that where there is struggle and oppression, an agency subverting that will most naturally arise. It is quite ambiguous if Jameela is standing for sex work as a profession to find salvation from stringent poverty or for sex work as a profession without poverty and other socio-economic reasons clouding the decision. It seems both. Many of the comparisons she makes in the book support the latter as she delves into the idea of sex, free sex and the social constraints when it comes to sex; by comparing sex with professions such as teaching and music, both of which are greatly valued, she is advocating for sex work by bringing in the concept of a Veshya, meaning ‘she who seduces’, deducing that it is the insulting connotations that have come to make all the difference. Does this mean then that we have a culture that is less “progressive” than what we had in the days of Veshyas and courtesans?
There is then a deconstruction of the fundamental ideals based on which sex and sexuality have been based and an honest dissection of ideological and cultural prejudices. This question is very valid: “If, by mutual consent, a man and woman decide to have sex, then what is wrong?” This agency leads us to question her subaltern position in the context of her profession; clearly she refuses to accept “victim” status as most people term it. But there is a growing necessity to understand victimisation as a step to survival power. ‘This 'survivor not victim' approach came to typify a new approach to women in such circumstances, that later reflected in policy and law. Believing women to be victims had led to protectionist, problematic policies but by seeing them as reflective individuals who had the capacity to negotiate and survive what life threw their way, there was an affirmation of their identities that brought into focus their rights.’
That makes it plain that Jameela’s survival capacity and a free mind converge to form an agency emphasising on the power of both a mind and body. This also necessitates the understanding that Jameela’s victim status (relative to her agency) comes from the social taboo of sex and sex workers more than their economic status and living conditions.
However, there is certainly a need to not undermine her fight for dignity and respect for the lives of sex workers, irrespective of the politics of choice.
Sangati captures Bama’s poignant feminist consciousness and assumes a significant place given that it is one of the first female voices to emerge from the Dalit community. She reveals a ‘social vision’; that is, the conviction that no matter how submerged a human being is in the ‘culture of silence’ they are capable of looking at the world critically in a dialogical encounter with others (Freire). Therefore, Bama’s socio-feminist stance comes from oppression as well as a constant investigation. The ambiguity of agency, as seen in Jameela’s doesn’t surface in comparable quality here. It is surprisingly evident that her life history and experiences has been rudimentary in shaping her agency, clearly conforming to Foucault’s theory of freedom and constraint. By detailing the daily lives of the Dalit women of which cold blooded violence forms an inherent part, she shocks with obscene language, the vulgarity and the oppression of the female body. And this is precisely what Dalit writing set out to do. The challenge and revolt therefore, extends to form and content as well, justifying its purpose. ‘Dalit literature describes the world differently, from a Dalit perspective. Therefore, it should outrage and even repel the guardians of caste and class. It should provoke them into asking if this is indeed literature.’ Lakshmi Holmstrom in her introduction to Sangati says that Tamil literature has been stringent in its distinction between the written and the colloquial form- Sen-tamil and Kodun-tamil. Despite gaps being bridged in modern times, Dalit literature is still a striking deviant. ‘If it brings to Tamil Literature subject matter hitherto considered inappropriate, it uses a language hitherto considered unprintable.’
This account could also be bracketed post-colonial where the trinity of religion, men and the upper castes form the coloniser, resulting in a triple marginalisation. Sometimes, women in their ignorance could also play this role; mothers and grandmothers who become the upholders of patriarchy.
Hence, in this ‘writing back’, Bama’s colloquial language could also seen as restoring forms of their oral culture, or as a means of embracing realism. There are multiple instances in Sangati where past events, take the song form and the Paati is the carrier of many stories, myths and legends. It is altogether another issue that these songs and stories themselves become instruments of oppression rather than a means of liberation. But paradoxically, they lead Bama to question the authenticity of these and a realisation that they were meant to suppress women and keep them in fear succeeds in the condemnation of these which becomes the first step to liberation. Apart from that, Bama does draws attention to the many cultural beliefs of the pariah community (the original and not the hybrid form that came to be because of the influx of Christianity) is surprisingly progressive and only a little more conventional than the Adivasi community. Therefore, she “others” the upper caste women in this sense and says that their confinement, financial dependence and a lack of identity without husbands makes them far inferior to the self-sufficient Dalit women.
C.K. Janu’s autobiography, Mother Forest falls under the personal-political categorisation of autobiographies. The agency here arises from continued state oppression of the Adivasi community although the personal voice is milder. Reiterating the theory of the state or government being the colonial power in the postcolonial context, this account authenticates colonial oppression, given the nature of the struggle in a postcolonial context. In fact, Arundhati Roy connects a particular incident of revolt by the Adivasi community to the Jallianwala Bagh Massacre: ‘For the Kerala Police to open fire on a group of hundreds of people including women, children, old people and infants is an act that has few parallels in recent history. The event that comes to mind is Jallianwalah Bagh. … Had they belonged to any other community that mattered to mainstream political parties, the manner in which the crisis and its fallout were handled would have been quite different.’ Mahasweta Devi is one another prominent figure fighting for the rights of the tribal groups, trying to preserve and document a culture increasingly losing its identity.
Unfortunately, Janu never went to school and therefore the autobiography had to be written and translated and it is possible that certain crucial factors could have been lost in the process. However, a tribal voice has come to the centre of the circle restoring the credibility and dynamism of literature.
These autobiographies represent a literary activism of sorts both in their content and form and also in terms of the questions raised. The fact that these have all been translated into English, a language by and large considered mainstream highlights the growing interest towards gritty subaltern voices. To answer Spivak’s loaded question, ‘Can the Subaltern speak?’ Perhaps yes.
References:
http://openspaceindia.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=432&Itemid=112
Autobiography of a Sex Worker, Jameela Nalini, Westland 2005
Autobiography of a Sex Worker, Introduction, J.Devika, Westland 2005
Pedagogy of the Oppressed , Paulo Freire, 1970
Sangati, Bama, Introduction, Lakshmi Holmstrom, OUP, 2005
Mother Forest, Bhaskaran, translated by N.Ravi Shanker, Letter to Chief Minister of Kerala from Arundhati Roy, Women Unlimited, 2004
Marxism and the Interpretation of Culture, Cary Nelson and Lawrence Grossberg, Can the Subaltern speak?, Spivak, 1989
NIHARIKA MALLIMADUGULA is a final year student of Literature from Chennai, India heading to London to pursue her Masters in Cultural Studies at SOAS.
