Touchstones: Write choices for languages

Despite the temptation to curse Trump and the mess created by our Election Commission over SIR, I will write this week about something that gave me pleasure. The Book Review journal celebrated its golden anniversary to mark 50 years of its existence. I’ve been an admirer of its contribution to the world of books by its founders, Chandra Chari and Uma Iyengar, who have brought it out in spite of the challenges they faced. The event attracted some of the finest minds from academia, language studies, publishers, reviewers and translators.

The first day, devoted to exchanges between publishers, reviewers and the new generation ushers of AI and digital publishing, was riveting for the ideas thrown up. The next day was mainly devoted to translating India’s multiple languages into English and other Indian languages, and the possibilities that beckon. A recurring concern was the receding public and institutional support for journals that still bring us reviews and news about new writers and writing. Dr Romila Thapar, in her nineties now and almost wheelchair-bound, was given a round of applause as she arrived. Her mind, I’m happy to report, is as sharp as ever and still capable of raising questions that many of us forget to ask. She had come, she said half-laughing, to be educated on AI, ChatGPT and the vast world of information now available at the click of a button.

While most of us are aware of the line that separates academic writing from editorials and popular public writing, we often forget to ask whether one world can be a blend of both or not. This question becomes relevant today when many young scholars have taken to writing a popular version of history that makes some nervous about the liberties taken with interpretation. Additionally, the digitisation of our National Archives, Teen Murti Library, the National Library among others, as well as the speedy access to the Indian Statistical Institute and the digital version of an academic publication available on Kindle, have changed the attitude of respect for the sincere research that many earlier scholars put in.

If plagiarism, Dr Thapar said, was a crime, then is there something unethical also about downloading someone else’s work to modify it into an easier language for the new reader of today? The question is indeed something that makes one think about academic rigour and scholarly commitment. The tightening of retail trade in books and the declining numbers of those who visit bookshops is a universal concern. Retail trade and marketing, therefore, are important inputs in publishing houses and often dictate what should be published, regardless of any editorial hesitation. So, have books become commodities, she asked? Sheepishly, many had to admit that vanity publishing and aggressive promoters are here to stay. What their growing presence will mean is another uncomfortable question left hanging.

The next day, devoted to translation, brought another set of questions to ponder over. Here again, there are translators who concentrate on creative writing, while others devote themselves to bringing academic writing in European (mainly English) languages to students in a variety of Indian languages. To be able to hear some of our finest translators expound on how what was once a mainly personal, even whimsical, choice became something much more opens up a whole new world. Gender studies, Dalit writers and patriarchy are all off-shoots.

Even 20 years ago, translations were of secondary literary value and most were works of classic writers: Premchand, Manto, Karanth and writers of that vintage. It is only in recent years that translations have come into their own and the award of the International Booker Prize to two Indian works (‘Tomb of Sand’ by Geetanjali Shree and Daisy Rockwell and ‘Heart Lamp’ by Banu Mushtaq and Deepa Bhasthi) have put them in a spotlight that is encouraging others to look afresh at this poor relative of Indian publishing.

Translation studies are now a part of literature courses and have brought some radical thinking into a hitherto desultory area of interest. Texts are now mined for the subtext of a work and what language, vocabulary and perspective can reveal. The inter-disciplinary expansion of teaching is an exciting field. Sociology, ethnography, psychology and anthropology are now entering a new dialogue. Above all, there is the transformative medium of artificial intelligence that a growing number of students are hooked on to for submitting essays and tutorials.

All in all, I came away very pumped up by all these ideas and wondered why most speakers made English translations so important when India has such a diverse spectrum of languages that have an impressive literary ancestry of their own. This growing obsession with ethnicity and pride in regional cultural identities also gives rise to some of the most bitter political battles.

Finally, a word of caution about the gobbling gene in English that is going to slowly eat away at the borders of our local languages. In the world of digital democracy, more and more Indians are opting to educate their children in English medium schools. Our pride in our own mother tongues is a romantic yearning, but find me the young who can read and write in their own bhasha. I fear, in a few more generations, many languages may go the way of Sanskrit.

— The writer is a social commentator