(This is extracted directly from an email I wrote to a friend. Some background: "The Phule Book" is a graphic novel titled "A Gardener in the Wasteland" by a young writer/artist pair-- Srividya and Aparajita. It is a retake on Phule's classic "Gulamgiri", a radical work denouncing the caste system)
So, this Phule book you bought me is brilliant! I am not the greatest of graphic novel fans and usually find the content pretentious and, less frequently, the art obtuse. Several times, panels seem to be looking at me and screaming: look, I'm so smart! But, I think the foremost reason I am not singularly drawn to graphic novels is because I am not engaged by the story.
The Phule book is actually about the art. Every panel is an experiment, every page a puzzle. Stare at a frame long enough and tiny details will emerge-- there's Buddha in a corner, an advertisement for a Coaching Class elsewhere, Srividya (the writer who is also a character) tying her hair as she speaks. It's also wonderfully conceptualized-- most panels are making their own significant points in distinctly different ways.
However, when I read the extract from the original Gulamgiri in Makers of Modern India, I didn't feel the same sense of uneasiness I felt when I read this book. And I couldn't quite put the finger on why that was the case.
Then, today, it struck me. The graphic novel is a blatant attack on Brahminism (so blatant that sometimes you have to shield your eyes against the harsh, blinding force of the content). But, so is the original text. Phule makes strange contentions-- sometimes extremely harsh, other times illogical and rarely, plain wrong to prove his points.
But, when you read the original text, you are placing yourself in Phule's world-- there's a context to what Phule's saying and a reason why he's so angry.
The graphic novel, on the other hand, tries to bridge time and space-- so, many a time, Phule's own arguments are used to deal with current issues. This is where things get clunky. I am all praise for Phule's bold line of reasoning, but some of it cannot be extended to today. To put it in your book is one thing, but to unabashedly and unquestioningly back a flawed idea and then draw lessons from it is another. Consequently, in places, the writing-- and, by extension, the writer-- come across as naive (and disconcertingly judgemental), a misconception that is laid to rest only when one reads the beautiful yet brief 'Afterword' at the end of the book.
And that's my only grouse in what was, otherwise, a great read!
