HAREM LITERATURES: CONSTRUCTION AND REPRESENTATION OF IDENTITY
Life Writings and the Problem of
Representation
As Marlene Kadar
says, “when writers want to be read, they have to be more flexible and take
more chances than the standard scholarly writing allows: often they have to be
more direct and more personal” (2). In a broadened sense, life writing is often
considered as one of the most celebrated genre by feminist literary critics,
mostly a subject of gynocriticism. It is a kind of writing about ‘the self’ or
‘the individual’, at times resembling a biography or autobiography, but also
embracing letters, diary entries and even journals. What makes life writing
distinguished from other literary forms is that it need not be written by
‘literary figures of the high culture’, but also be inscribed by ordinary men
and women of the common folk. When written by ordinary people, it becomes a
part of the ‘non-traditional literature’ and may include personal narratives,
oral narratives and life testimonies.
Albeit a
mediator between the woman and the outer world, life writings are sometimes
problematic because they tend to privilege an idea about what constitutes the ‘personal’
or the ‘subject’. Life writings about women by others often fail to provide an
adequate representation of the ‘she’ whose life is being written down. As
Cixous and Clement points out, “there is too little fiction available in which
‘her’ reality is embedded by ‘her’” (96-7). The authors, here, have rightly
meant the ‘misconstruction’ of a woman’s identity and the resultant
misrepresentation of her ‘self’ in different life writings. “She must be
self-consciously created as the reader goes along and as she collects other
readings, other theories, other orbits of a thing, she might recognize as
self-consciousness herself” (Kadar 9). Ironically, what happens in certain life
writings is that the author propagates his subjective impressions about the
protagonist leading to a widespread delusion about the “represented persona”.
Such life writings usually deviate from their very purpose to merely get
themselves added into the category of fictions. In other words, life writing
must be a critical practice that encourages the reader to develop a
self-consciousness with which he/she will be able to “humanize and make less
abstract the self-in-the-writing” (Kadar 9).
Harem Literatures and Life Writings
In the
Eighteenth and Nineteenth centuries, Europeans navigated to various parts of
the Eastern world for political or personal purposes. They explored different
places, landscapes, cultures and customs; wrote about them as they liked and
felt. However, one aspect of the eastern culture that the European men were not
able to peep into was the harems due to strict restrictions from the Islamic
religion. They wrote about “the exotic eastern women”, purely based on their
patriarchal, Eurocentric, white, male ideology, which were completely flawed
and erroneous. These erroneous notions became the foundations of the “knowledge”
of the West regarding eastern women and harems. These biased representations
dominated the Western conception of the East for a long time since then.
The only
visitors permitted into these harems were women. By the end of eighteenth
century, European women began to visit Eastern harems. Their writings radically
differed from the descriptions made by European males. They were able to
dismantle many buttressed beliefs from the minds of the readers boosted by the
fantasies of male writers. Women writers were successful to some extend in
removing many of the flawed assumptions on the sexuality and objectification of
the women in harems. Thus, harem literatures began as an offshoot of women’s
travelogues.
Billie Melman in
her work Women’s Orients states that
women writers were able to “normalize and humanize harems” (62). The Arabian Nights was a strong
influence on these writers so that when they wrote about harems, they began to
fuse magical fantasies in their scripts. Harem writings helped Western women to
identify themselves with the plight of Eastern women, thus neglecting the
boundaries of race for some time. They realized that whatever type the
institution of marriage be, monogamous or polygamous, women were denied a space
of their own. However, traditional harem writings were not successful in their
intended mission, as the writers, later, began to these works as a way to quick
bucks. Also, the Western readers began to see these writings as part of the
desert romance, merely describing all the attributes of the East as ‘exotic’.
Life writings
developed as the prominent genre in the 21st century, as a
consequence of the developing subaltern studies, screening away all such wrong
notions regarding the marginalized. They aim to tell the stories about these
people in an impartial manner without being influenced by any superficial
imprints within the writer. Rather than generating sympathy, life writings butt
the readers to foster an empathy with these lives. They try to erase the
abstract concepts within the readers mind regarding these people and fix a
better, concrete idea about the lives described in these writings.
Indian Movies as Life Writings
Harem
literatures continue in the postmodern scenario under the blanket term Life
Writings. Modern texts of life writings are better seen on screen in the form
of biopics or other dramatic films. Women’s life writings should be something
that is capable of “making new subject positions in that it potentially
liberates the women writer or reader, transforming her from silent victim to
‘engaged survivor’”, says Janice Willaimson (133). Like other life writings,
harem literatures also try to bring under limelight the stories of the
marginalized lives. Harem writings became so popular and celebrated that they
called for a rising phenomenon, which may be called Harem Renaissance, a
rebirth of the voiceless in the harems.
Without limiting
herself to the traditional literary genres of poetry and prose, harems now find
benchmark representations in movies all over the world. “Films, whether they
are works of art or depict the realistic milieu, are not definitely larger than
life…. They definitely convey a message, right or wrong and leave an
impression, sometimes indelible, sometimes passing and fleeting for a moment”
(Singh 28). However, in a closer observation, we can find these stories
problematic. We can see that certain issues of representation, or rather
misrepresentation, creep into the husky walls of life writings. These issues
ensue when a subaltern life is discussed by someone in the mainstream.
Differences can be traced in the manner when one speaks about oneself and about
others, or better, ‘Others’. Problems of mediation occurs in life writings
also. They tend to become fictional at times, taking up all the subjective,
whimsical impressions of the writer and leaving behind the realistic,
colourless experiences of the subject. Thus, life writings are now losing their
intended tracks, moving on a path that they initially proposed never to follow.
Prostitute Representation in Indian
Movies
“Men sense the
contradiction in us. They observe our desire to be prey… in our fantasy life,
we submit, even as in our real life we resist. In their fantasy life they
resist even as in their real life they submit” (Rowbotham 21).
The depiction of
female prostitution in Indian movies is a predominantly a product of male
imagination which is modified to satisfy the requirements of a so-called
realist medium. At the same time, these movies are supposed to fulfill the
criteria of a patriarchal ideology.
Life writings on
prostitutes can be exemplified via three popular Bollywood movies: Sanjay
LeelaBhansali’s Devdas and Saawariya and Milan Luthria’s The Dirty Picture. These three movies
mould before us pictures of harems which is strikingly different from the
impression that we get from Nalini Jameela’s Njan Laingikathozhilali.A quick scan of these works may help to
throw some light on the embedded issues of representation in life writings.
Devdas
(2002) and Saawariya (2007)— The Twentieth Century Arabian Nights
Bhansali’s
grand, epic movies, mainly known for their elaborate settings and spectacular
visualizing techniques, are distinct in the way they treat their subjects.
Widely discussed not only in the cinematic circles, but also among sensible
audience, Bhansali has definitely struck the chord of admiration in his
viewers’ hearts. But despite having tons of admirers, Bhansali has a lot of detractors
also.
Sanjay Leela Bhansali,
albeit having directed and produced a number of movies, became celebrated all
over India with his box office hit Devdas
released in the year 2002. An adaptation of the 1917 Bengali-romance by Sharath
Chandra Chattopadhyay with the same title, the movie Devdas portrays the intense love of a wealthy law graduate, the
eponymous hero, who returns to his native place after his studies from London,
for his childhood sweetheart Paro. Owing to the disapproval of his family,
Devdas disavows Paro, who in a shattered state marries another man. A
devastated Devdas takes refuge in alcohol and ends up in a brothel where he is taken
care of by a kind-hearted courtesan— Chandramukhi.
The fairy-tale
beauty Chandramukhi, dressed up in opulent outfits, conforms to the heroine criteria
of Bhansali, supporting her hero selflessly in his critical times, sacrificing
all her personal pleasures, goodwill and her livelihood for his well-being. An
‘operatic’ dancer, whose subtle and sublime steps reveals her inner turmoil, Chandramukhi
is elegantly eclectic and enduring. She is definitely a counterfoil to the egotistical
and impulsive Paro who failed to see the tears of her destroyed lover. The
hyper-real depiction of Chandramukhi’s brothel and its settings correspond to
Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s magic realistic brothel in his famous work Chronicle of a Death Foretold. While her
physical magnificence satiates the voyeuristic demands of a viewer, her
intellect leaves us jaw-dropped and her benevolence remains us overwhelmed. We
can see a Bhansali trying hard to justify the profession of Chandramukhi with
his hyper-realistic metaphors and adjectives attached to her, yet unable to
hush up his reverence for the pretty, innocent and “pure” Paro, when he makes
Chandramukhi say “ aurat maa hoti hai, behen hoti hai, patni hoti hai, dost
hoti hai, … aur jab who kuch nahi hoti, toh tawaif hoti hai” – meaning: a woman
can become mother, sister, wife, or friend; and when she becomes none of this,
she becomes a prostitute. Here is where we see the problem of representation
sprouting up. This becomes explicit when Chandramuhi says “tawaifon ki toh taqdeer
nahi hoti” – meaning: prostitutes don’t have a destiny. Paro in an encounter
with Chandramukhi rebuffs her by saying that Chandramukhi is stunningly
beautiful, but quite assuming, to which she replies “kaash aap samach sakthi hamare
paas dil bhi hai”, meaning, if only you could realize that I have a heart too. Bhansali
royally portrays Chandramukhi placing before the audience all the mis-concepts
about sex-workers in the society, but not able to justify her completely nor
able to see her objectively. What we see ultimately is a patronizing Bhansali
who showers a lot of kindness onto a beautiful or rather “beautified”
courtesan, simply sympathizing with what she is, only to idolize the
conventional heroine Paro.
No different is
the case with Gulabji, cast by Rani Mukherjee, in Bhansali’s melodramatic movie
Saawariya, released in the year 2007,
roughly based on Dostoevsky’s short story “White Nights”. Gulabji, also the
narrator of the story, is a frequent visitor of luxurious RK Bar where she
meets Raj, the hero. Unlike other men in the club, Raj behaves with her in a
decent manner starting up a conversation by asking her name. Gulabji replies that
who asks the name of a gulabji (prostitute); only her price is asked. Apart
from Bhansali’s hyper-real set-up of a brothel in Devdas, he comes nowhere near Dostoevsky’s short story as Bhansali
flagrantly resorts to an “overwhelming emphasis on kitsch visuals” (Wright
164). Red streets decorated with colourful lights, resembling a Christmas
season, seductive women dressed up in slinky attires, with their lips stained
deep red along with effervescent dance sequences suggest nothing more thana
superficial filmy masala. The beautiful Gulabji, who gets attracted to the
innocence and the manly voice of the hero, helps him to win the admiration of
Zakina, the stereotypical Bhansali heroine. Zakina, just like Paro in Devdas,
is ravishingly beautiful, chaste and unblemished, who waits steadily and completely
for her lover, Imaan, who had left her on a note that he would be back. While
Gulaabji believes that she is not at all worthy for the love of Raj, Zakina
proudly upholds that she is a one-man-woman, no matter how impractical her vow
is. The mouldingof Gulabji’sidentity become even more problematic in the movie
when Raj approaches her to sleep with when he is forsaken by Zakina; thus
proving again that gulaabjiis are only gulaabjiis, regardless of their
sincerity and unconditional love. A deeply hurt Gulaabji throws him out of her
brothel. The movie ends with a happy Raj, who succeeds in winning the love of
Zakina, albeit she has to go when Imaan comes. However, there is no mention in
the rest of the story about Gulaabji, substantiating Bhansali’s belief that
gulaabjiis can make and tell stories of others, but never one of themselves.
These
movies heavily relied on magic realistic depiction of harems since “fantasy
provided escapism, innocent voyeurism and exploration of female sexuality”
(Huddleston 4) for a group of spectators within the safe boundaries of
silver-screen.
The
Dirty Picture (2011)—
The Woman’s Utopia
The
Dirty Picture, directed by Milan Luthria (2011) has ushered in various
debates around female sexuality through its sensuous representation of the
adult actress Silk Smitha, the sex icon of the past generation, and the corpus
of texts surrounding sexuality. The movie hit the box-office records of the
time and also won much critical acclaim for its powerful portrayal of Silk and
other major adult actresses of all time, like Merlin Monroe, who were used by
their directors and producers merely to make their movies “spicy” and thus
attract male audience. The movie strongly exposes the dirty hypocrisy of the
film industries. The film can be seen as
making a strong political statement on society's attempt to regulate female
sexuality. Most would contend that Silk existed in a largely exploitative
industry that allowed little space for women and her overt objectification by
the industry is broadly discussed throughout the movie.
All the
promotional material for The Dirty
Picture, from the promos to the posters to the billboards presented a
highly coquettish image of Vidya Balan, without any implicit critique of the
same. Even the focus of the song 'Ooh La La', without much contention, is the
depiction of the explicit sexualisation of the female actor's body in
Bollywood. The body is fetishised when the camera focuses on Silk's / Vidya's
breasts, her lips and her waist as parts.
What makes the
movie different from the previous ones is its carnivalesque mode of
picturisation and narration. The
‘graphic representation’ of the ‘vamp woman’ and the obsessive spotlighting of
her differences from other women using mechanisms such as enticing costumes, tempting
gestures and overt display of body parts embodies the spirit of the carnival.
Even though in a “dirty” manner, the movie uncovers a transgressive female
morality that thrives beneath the regressive societal set-up and that
constantly threatens to usurp patriarchal morality. However, this movie ends up
as ‘woman’s utopia’. Luthria’s The Dirty
Picture, as a biopic, has failed to fix its feet on the ground when it
gives wings and colours to an introvert real-life Silk to become a power-packed
counter-culture woman kissing her boyfriend in the public, drinking and dancing
in parties, delivering applaud-hoisting dialogues in award ceremonies.
“Indian cinema
caters to the public and helps them to escape into the illusions of fantastic
dreams and opiates the masses” (Singh 32). Apart from that, Indian movies are
not at all free, even now, from the patriarchal mores and try to suppress
women’s autonomy completely in unbelievable ways. The three movies discussed
here tries to represent the life of sex-workers and adult actresses. But we
have to admit that they failed in a dispiriting mode.
Nalini Jameela’s Njan Laingikathozhilali
“It has been a
female writer’s conundrum to determine the manner in which she speaks of her
own life in a world where all ‘dignified’ narrative methods are based on male
experience” (Napier 70). Women’s autobiographies have questioned and challenged
the traditional concepts about autobiographies which were mostly a
male-centered genre and male-dominated writing. Autobiographies that have
always qualified to become the canon are mostly written by men and celebrate “the
coherent, simple and unified lives of the exemplary individual” (Gilmore
255).However, women’s autobiographies are a challenge to such definitions. They
show how “women’s lives are relational, tied to others and imbricated with
communities” (Gilmore 255). The peculiarity of women’s autobiographies and life
writings is that they are neither limited to any philosophical or theoretical
boundary of self-hood as determined by patriarchal champs nor do they aim to
reproduce a universal and homogenous self-hood. For women, writing an
autobiography is seldom their objective. For them, this genre helps them to
expose themselves or confess openly.
Nalini Jameela’s
autobiography challenges all life writings about women by men. The suggestions
of dual-religious dimensions in her very name propose the multifaceted
complexities in her identity. Contradicting Chandramukhi in Devdas, Nalini is a daughter, sister,
wife, mother and a friend. She has gone through all stages a woman can ever be
in her life. What makes this personal account of Nalini Jameela different is
its downright dodging of conventional writing styles. Jameela, in her preface
titled “Ente Ezhuthupareekshakal”, makes it clear that in the autobiography she
maintains a style of herself. She has written just in the way she speaks and
thinks. This is because she made various attempts to write an autobiography in
the “traditional, accepted” style; she was also helped by many in this process.
But, later, she realized that a faithful portrayal of ‘she herself’ can be made
only in her own style. She says that she doesn’t know if there are any
universally accepted standards or rules of writing. And if there is one, Jameela
says, “It is my decision to be the first one to edit such rules”. She adds that
she did not follow any folk traditions when she took the decision to be a
sex-worker. She is not at all ashamed to admit that she is a sex-worker, a
profession just like any other. Carefully delineating how sex-work becomes a
profession in the chapter “Can Sex Be Bought?”,Jameela points out that what is
being sold is not romance or love. When a sex-worker spares a fixed time with a
stranger, he/she is only agreeing it upon a certain amount as a reward. What
he/she gives to the strangers is also a kind of tenderness and affection that
they don’t get at home, though only for a limited time.It is better to agree that
“those who don’t want needn’t buy” rather than to say “sell not”. She chose
this profession to sustain her kidsafter her husband’s death. Normally, a woman
used to get around Rs.2.5 as her daily wage. But the demand of her
mother-in-law was to give Rs.5 daily at her home. Therefore, she was forced to
find a “well-paid job” and she found one.
She gives clear
sketches about various clients and their unique characters. She says that she
had learnt from her very first client how man can be handsome and cruel at the
same time. Raising certain fundamental questions about human sexuality, Jameela
shows the headway of her character from a simple village girl to an active
social worker:
Why
is it so specific that all sexual relationships must end up only in
family? Why should a person wait till
he/she enters a lifelong liaison to know about real sex? Who can decide that
women are only to deliver and bring up kids? What is wrong in accepting
lesbianism as family planning? Lesbianism is real family planning. The world
doesn’t need that many human beings. Yet, those who believe that they are
Brahma and that they should procreate the next generation can move on (Jameela
119).
A strong member of ‘Jwalamukhi’, an
organization to help and solve the problem of sex-workers, Nalini Jameela says
that most social workers are concerned about the rehabilitation of sex-workers.
She points out that this is something quite impractical. People who do not know
about this profession cannot even imagine the social contacts required in this
work. Therefore, what is important is to make sex-work not a crime. This is
different from licensing brothels or certifying them by doctors or police.
According to Nalini Jameela, sex is not to be questioned if two people engage
in sex upon their will and if it doesn’t offend a third person. In such cases
sex should not be something to be penalized.
What
distinguishes Nalini Jameela’s autobiography from other life writings we have
discussed in this paper its firm grounding in reality. She doesn’t try to garb
herself or her fellow sex-workers in any “fantastic costumes” that separate
them from ordinary women. Her autobiography establishes that sex-workers are
autonomous women, who has got a dignity and will of their own. She doesn’t call
for the sympathy of her readers nor does she try to attract the readers by narrating
any personal sexual escapades. Instead, she boldly invites us into the unseen
and unspoken lives within a “company” (place where sex-workers live in) and the
various problems she had to face in her lifetime as a sex-worker. Autobiography
of a sex-worker portrays the power vested within each woman to adapt to
whatever situations she is put in and establishes her body as the ultimate
manifestation of that power.
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