the human god
by Douglas Messerli
Satyajit Ray (screenwriter, based on a story by Prabhat K. Mukherjee, and director) দেবী (Devi) (The Goddess) / 1960
Originally, the great Indian writer Rabindranath Tagore had planned to
write the story, based on real-life events, but realizing that his membership
in the Brahmo Society, an elite group of contemporary Indians who publicly
opposed idol worship, would immediately create hostility within the Hindu
culture, he offered it to his friend, Prabhat K. Mukherjee, who as a Brahmin,
the highest of the Hindu castes, would be somewhat freed from criticism.
Yet Ray was mistaken, and his film caused a great stir within India,
threatening its showings outside of the country. Only the intrusion into the
matter by India’s first Prime Minister, Jawaharlal Nehru, resolved the issue,
allowing the world to see and admire Ray’s film.
In fact, instead of mocking Hindu beliefs, Ray’s work is a nuanced
portrait of them and an accurate rendition of both the wonderment and dangers
of the culture of the Mother Goddess. He
begins his film with a stunning scene which shows us the rituals of the
religion, as a recreation of the Goddess is celebrated before it is returned to
the sea to be destroyed.
The wife knows what Kalikinkar does not, that she is losing the love of
both her husband and her son to her daughter-in-law. But Kalikinkar, with his
old ways of perceiving, does not comprehend that his affection for Daya has
begun to transform into something else, and, in Ray’s subtle Freudian
interpretation, Kalikinkar has a dream, revealing, so he believes, that his
daughter-in-law is actually a “reborn” Mother Goddess, Devi herself. And soon after, he and his family and male
friends begin to worship her instead of the Devi mask.
Clearly startled by this strange change
in her position—even her bedroom is moved from an upper floor to the first—the
young girl has little to say in the matter, and, as an obedient
Back in Calcutta, his teachers attempt to reinforce their enlightened
beliefs, but Uma, raised in an opposing culture, has his own doubts.
When Kolba grows ill, the family has no choice but to again to rely on
the magical healing powers of their in-house goddess; but this time she has no
longer any power, and the boy dies. Daya, soon after growing mad, walks off
into the meadow, clearly becoming little more than an aspiration, a whiff of
the former body she was. In the original story she hung herself, and in Ray’s
first film script she drowned herself in the river. But in Ray’s final version,
she simply disappears, a figment of religious hysteria, a young woman
transformed into a saint, like so many women in the world, whose true being and
sexuality is snuffed out by the patriarchs who claim to love them.
Although I might easily describe this
film as a story of religious fanaticism, it is something even more horrible and
common: the story of a woman being destroyed by the men who claim control of
her life. If the Hindu community was fearful for what they saw as a perverted
vision of their religious beliefs (and since all of Ray’s films were presented
in Bengali only, most of the Hindus of India never watched his films; one
estimate suggests only 5% of Indians saw Ray’s movies), what they really might have
feared is that Devi revealed their
dangerous sexist attitudes that silenced the voices of women in their society,
a problem that continues in India and numerous cultures still today.
Los Angeles, Independence Day, 2016
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (July 2016).
No comments:
Post a Comment