SL Bhyrappa: A Gentle Introduction (Updated)

Update: Thanks to a commenter, I had excluded Bhyrappa’s Grahana in my list of his minor works.

Preface

Trying to write about SL Bhyrappa’s works is akin to trying to enclose the Sun in your fist. It’s impossible and even if it were possible, you can’t enclose its entire brilliance because it’s so all-encompassing. At best, you can describe it. Which is what I’ll do. Neither will I pretend that I’m writing a “balanced critique” exposing the flaws in his works. With good reason: it’ll be like diving into the Ocean’s depths to unearth the muck buried at the bottom but bypassing the pearls.

Defining Characteristics

The genius of Bhyrappa’s works stems from the genius of India. Paraphrasing what H.M Nayak said, Bhyrappa is an Indian novelist who writes in Kannada. His works stand as living testimonies to the sweep of India’s diverse geography, multitudinous cultural variety, and apparent complexity all unified by a timeless strand of shared civilizational consciousness. On that last note, the one characteristic that distinguishes his major works is their epic scope. Which is because his works firmly grip and then strum the strings of the very fundamentals of human existence as we shall see. His major works are comparable to any great epic both in terms of the impact and the imprint they leave on the reader’s mind. This singular feature contributes to the enduring popularity of most of his works and by consequence, his huge fan following. You can spite Bhyrappa’s works but you can’t ignore them.

And like epics, SL Bhyrappa’s works are untainted by vacuously-bloated theories or pseudo-philosophies. That in itself is a rare, commendable, and tough accomplishment in an age where every new novel is judged primarily by the political flavour it exhibits (or doesn’t exhibit). As SL Bhyrappa himself notes in one of his essays, no intelletual mumbo-jumbo “is required as a preparatory for reading [my] novels.” This is extremely courageous given that he attained literary fame in an age when the entire field was armed to the teeth against him. Self-proclaimed progressive litterateurs wrote in a language that even they couldn’t decipher in hindsight. Their works therefore died in their own lifetimes–they’re now buried in governmental literary graveyards a.k.a state-owned public libraries. Describing their crude machinations for literary overlordship, Bhyrappa says that true literature “should shine on its own and not glow with the aid of critics’ torchlight.”

Bhyrappa’s works triumph in any test because they are powerfully-creative expositions of universal values. Translate them to any language, they deliver the same impact without the cultural idiom acting as a barrier. As I’ve noted several times, Bhyrappa scores in re-readability like no other author that I’ve read. As a learned gentleman poignantly observed, his works transform you from being a mere reader to an active participant–his characters live with you long after you’ve finished reading the book. Personally, they compel me to return to them at regular intervals. In this, his works are timeless yet contemporary.

Themes and Style

While the range of his works spans several themes, they are unified–like India is–by life and feeling. From Vamsha Vruksha (The Tree of Generation), which rammed his way to literary fame, to Aavarana, Bhyrappa’s novels slap the reader awake to new possibilities of thought, analysis, interpretation, feeling, and emotion. The sheer brutality of Saakshi (Witness) terrifies you with its equanimous depiction of unadulterated evil. Or the slow lull of Mandra (Low pitch), which like Hindustani music, gradually assumes momentum, force and ferocity as it builds in strength and plays out human nature in unimaginable notes.

Indeed, both Gods and devils lie in the intricate details he hems in on each line. This zealous pursuit of detail is another defining quality that permeates the entire corpus of his works. The classic instance is his colossal Thantu (Strand). The dull din of the swarm of insects that follow Kanti all the way to the top of the hill and accost her on her way down actually buzzes in your ears. Equally, Arjuna’s chariot-voyage in Parva (Chapter) recreates the landscape, forests, roads, soil, and colours of India of 5000 years past complete with moonlight and stars, perfect companions for Arjuna’s noctural nostalgia. Yet another bit of an episode of the Mahabharata seamlessly unweaves itself through this descriptive detail. Applying my earlier analogy, his books touch the Ocean’s bottom and casually unearth for us pearls, muck, and everything in between, thereby opening up immense interpretational possibilities. In some cases, he almost abruptly reveals several shades of a fundamental problem, which dwells in the reader’s subconscious but is clothed in words by Bhyrappa. Hemant’s emotional turmoil over his affair with a married woman reaches its peak in the Harishchandra Ghat at Kashi. The entire sequence of his sudden realization is one of the best in the entire history of world literature.

This variety, richness, and intensity in theme and treatment makes us hard to slot Bhyrappa’s works into one category, and which is what infuriates his critics to no end. You can easily criticize somebody if you can cast them in a specific mould–communist, capitalist, regressive, outmoded, etc–but if they defy categorization, the only response is confusion-riddled fury. Yet, Bhyrappa’s critics have managed to consistently apply the all-inclusive, magic-label of Communal (or its latest avatar, right-wing) on him on mostly baseless foundations.

Model

The writer, patriot, poet, and philosopher DV Gundappa observed that “ordinary readers not (mis)educated in (fancy) theories intuitively grasp the greatness of epics like the Ramayana and Mahabharata.” This observation in many ways, captures the essence of Indian aesthetics (also, literary theory) or the Rasa theory. The nearest approximation in meaning to Rasa in English is feeling or emotion. More accurately, Rasa is the emotion inspired in the audience/reader by the artist. The culmination of Rasa is defined by this poignant verse.

Sakalaprayojana Moulibhootam Samaanantarameva|
Rasaaswadana Samadbhootam Vedyaantaram Anandam||

The crest of all benefits of enjoying a work of art is blissful joy;
Joy that eliminates the awareness of one’s own existence and subsumes the enjoyer within itself. (Ed: a very crude translation)

In other words, an intensely-involved meditative state that excludes even the awareness that you are alive and breathing. This state is beyond mere involvement or acute concentration. Paradoxically, the stress here is on the artist because his/her art consciously creates the environment to elevate the viewer/listener/reader to this state. A true artist therefore strives to attain:

Yaavat Poorno Nacaite Na Taavannaiva Vamatyamum|

The artist knows no peace until he empties the Rasa that has welled in his heart through experience, erudition or sheer talent. This emptying process culminates in a work of art, which ennobles those who savour the Rasa it contains. The joy of the artist lies only in creating the work of art.

In a way, once it is created, it no longer belongs to him.

The difference between this ideal and what passes today as the “aim of all art” cannot be starker.

Every single word I wrote above applies to SL Bhyrappa and his works. On occasion, he has described his writing as a form of penance (Tapas) and on another, he has compared it to pregnancy–painful but resulting in an exuberance that comes only out of such experience. This gives his works the quality, intensity, and sweep they have. You are helpless in their grip. They ask fundamental questions but provide only hints to answers. The protagonist in Saakshi asks Yama (the Final Arbiter of Conduct, Morality, Justice, and Death), “Lord, what is the root of untruth?” and the novel ends right there. Our quest begins at that precise point. For over 250 pages, the novel unleashes evil upon evil in ruthless detail but ends with that explosive question. The 250-plus pages of ferocious mercilessness transports you out of this world without your knowledge.

D.V. Gundappa’s “ordinary reader” intuitively appreciates this better than any imported existentialist tripe, which requires similarly-misled literary “experts” to decipher the supposedly-intellectual layers lurking underneath. More importantly, SL Bhyrappa’s works reflect the foundational values rooted in the Indian soil, which Indian readers unconsciously but intimately identify with. This strong characteristic has earned SL Bhyrappa his base of devoted readers with no effort on his part to attract readership. It doesn’t stop at that. Most of his major works have been the subject of both scholarly and public debate that continues till date. On the other hand, any debate on the works of progressive writers has mostly been self-sponsored–at most they have been subjects of mutual back-slapping seminars.

Works

For the sake of organization, I’ve classified SL Bhyrappa’s works into major, minor, and ordinary. (You can, of course, apply your own classification scheme based on your reading of his works.) Almost all of his major works have a far-reaching span in terms of plot, scope, quality, and endurance. Although his minor novels don’t lack in quality, they occupy the second place because the far-reaching element is either absent or is negligible. Only two novels fall in the ordinary category because they were his “debut” novels.

I’ve ranked his works in the order of quality (i.e., the best quality comes first) in my personal, subjective evaluation. You might differ.

Major Works:

• Thantu
• Parva
• Saakshi
• Vamsha Vruksha
• Daatu
• Mandra
• Saartha
• Aavarana
• Tabbaliyu Neenaade Magane

Minor Works:

• Jalapaata
• Nele
• Gruha Bhanga
• Niraakarana
• Matadaana
• Anchu
• Nayi Neralu
• Grahana
• Anveshane

Ordinary Works:

• Dharmashree
• Doora Saridaru

Now that the stage is set, I shall try and examine all his major works and a few of his minor ones over the next series of posts.

Tags: Books, Kannada Literature, Literature, SL Bhyrappa, SL Bhyrappa’s Works