Female Rage

Subversive Whispers is a collection of short stories by Malayali author Manasi (aka PA Rukmini) translated into English by J Devika. As the title suggests, its focus is on subdued, but incendiary, voices. Each of the 13 stories offer a peek into the experience of gender-based oppression from a different vantage, across societal status and temporal location. A good many of them, like ‘Devi Mahathmyam: In Praise of the Goddess’ and ‘Sheelavathi’, draw from classical Hindu texts. Others, like ‘Bhanumathi’s Morning’ and ‘Definitions in Different Hues,’ are inspired by tussles in everyday middle-class life. In some, like ‘The Far End of the Gravel Path’ the women are clear victims. Elsewhere their moral positions are more complex. Sometimes the women in the stories are a Madonna figure, at other times a whore, sometimes she is prey, sometimes fury. In every story, however, the woman is the sole bearer of the gaze, the teller of the tale.

As in life, a woman’s societal position is never the same as a man in Manasi’s fiction. “The scriptures say Kshamaya dharitri, the woman must be as patient as the earth,” the narrator says in ‘Devi Mahathmyam’. “Anger and lust and desire are all for men. We should be like goddesses. Men are born and die human. We are human and we should die Goddesses.” These sage words come shortly after an elderly male character, preparing to marry a third time in the hope of gaining a male heir, declares a home dominated by women as “inauspicious”. In a series of tales on a similar strain, Manasi demonstrates the many ways in which marriage robs women of their bodily autonomy, their personhood, their moments of leisure, pleasure and expression. But in ‘Sheelavathi’, the story of a court dancer’s daughter carrying the child of a Brahmin, Manasi also shows how, despite this, women often seek out marriage to gain societal legitimacy. 

Almost every female character in the book is trapped, and unsurprisingly, escape fantasies abound. For instance, ‘The Sword of the Princess’ begins with a tormented wife daydreaming about self-immolation. A few pages into the story, it takes a magically realistic turn, complete with flying horses, a knight in shining armour and a bejewelled sword, before reality crashes in and the narrator ends up killing her tormentor. In the more ‘mundane’ story ‘Bhanumathi’s Morning,’ the protagonist, a working woman burdened by domestic duties, dreams of owning a two-wheeler. Her wish is rooted in practicality—the need to get around quickly. However, it is hindered by her husband’s disapproval and objections. These restrictions, along with the association of the Scooty in the neighborhood owned by a woman, transform the vehicle into a symbol of the desire for mobility, speed, and ultimately, rebellion.

In the foreword, the translator describes Manasi as a part of a “literary generation of anti-patriarchal women literary writers who preceded full blown, self-claimed feminism in Malayalam literature”. J Devika writes, “For the educated women of my generation who came of age in the early ’80s, Manasi’s stories were early lessons on how to defy patriarchy—much before any of us had heard of feminism.” But unlike the translator, Manasi, born in the late ’40s, is not herself a subject of India in the ’80s. Her early works, including the terse and disturbing ‘The Experiment’, included in the book, dates back to 1968. This temporal location appears an important detail to bear in mind while reading the collection, given how far conversations around gender have travelled since she began writing. Subversive Whispers presents some of her most riveting works. But it is also a testament to the author’s journey as a feminist through the years, signalling how she negotiated shifts in broader notions of gender, gender-based violence, oppression and the intersections between various marginalised identities. Aside from being a good read this might be what makes this book worthy of having on your bookshelf. 

booksIndian societyKeralaMalayalamshort stories