Queen Victorian, India and Florence - Domenico Savini
La regina
Vittoria imperatrice dell’India - Gabriella Del Lungo
Camiciotti, Università di Firenze
Introduzione
Alla fine dell’Ottocento motivi economici, politici e
religiosi mossero le nazioni europee a espandere la loro
influenza su altre regioni, ciascuna nell’intento di
accrescere il proprio potere sulla terra. L’impero britannico
si estesero aldilà del mare perché la rivoluzione industriale
dell’Ottocento aveva creato il bisogno di risorse naturali
necessarie a far funzionare i macchinari e i mezzi
di trasporto appena inventati. In questo periodo l’India, che
era già sotto il controllo della corona dal 1858,
acquisì status imperiale nell’intento di collegarla più
strettamente al suo centro metropolitano, Londra.
Un atto parlamentare riguardante i titoli reali (Royal Titles
Bill) fu presentato in parlamento nel 1876, e nel 1877
Benjamin Disraeli, primo ministro conservatore, fece
proclamare la regina Vittoria imperatrice dell’India. La
regina Vittoria aprì il parlamento in persona per la prima
volta dopo la morte del principe Alberto, per annunciare il
cambio di titolo reale. A Dehli, in ciò che è conosciuto come
il Dehli Dunbar (corte di Dehli), il 1 gennaio 1877 si tennero
delle celebrazioni sotto la guida del viceré Lord Lytton.
Questo evento inaugurò il periodo del nuovo imperialismo in
Gran Bretagna, ideologia che fu disseminata tramite un gran
numero di agenzie propagandistiche imperiali fondate nel tardo
Ottocento e ai primi del Novecento; queste diffondevano una
visione del mondo in buona parte basata su un rinnovato
militarismo, la devozione verso la regalità, e
l’identificazione con e la venerazione di eroi nazionali,
insieme al culto della personalità e idee razziali associate
con il darwinismo sociale. Come osservato da MacKenzies (1990,
pp. 2-3) l’influenza di queste idee sulla cultura popolare fu
profonda in quanto penetrarono nel sistema educativo, nelle
forze armate, nei movimenti giovanili in uniforme, nelle
chiese e società missionarie, ed anche in forme di
intrattenimento pubblico come il music hall e le esposizioni.
Neanche l'intellighenzia fu immune dall’ imperialismo.
Forse il più famoso scrittore[1] che contribuì a diffondere
l’idea della superiorità della civiltà bianca è Kipling che si
fece interprete, propagandista e principale apologeta
dell'élite imperialista. Un punto di vista meno darwiniano è
quello di Lytton Strachey, intellettuale membro del gruppo di
Bloomsbury, il quale dopo il successo del suo Vittoriani
Eminenti (Eminent Victorians,1918). pubblicò la biografia
della regina Vittoria (Queen Victoria) nel 1921.
La regina Vittoriani
Come indicato da MacKenzies, la venerazione della monarchia si
sviluppò dalla fine degli anni 70 dell'Ottocento e quando ciò
avvenne lo fu in stretta unione con il ruolo imperiale
del monarca. La biografia della regina Vittoria di
Strachey contribuì a stabilizzare il ruolo del monarca come
emblema imperiale; Stracey sottolinea presenta Vittoria come
matriarca regale, dal momento che considerava i sudditi
imperiali come la sua famiglia allargata, e mostra il suo
particolare attaccamento all’India. La regina Vittoria era
infatti affascinata dall’India. Come scrive Le Jeune (2017,
p.1): «In tutta la sua vita la monarca fu molto attiva nello
scoprire l’India. Cercava di entrare in contatto con il
suo “popolo indiano” del cui benessere si interessava
regolarmente. Era curiosa di ascoltare e leggere le
testimonianze e le storie personali di ufficiali inglesi o
viaggiatori tornati di recente dall’India. Divenne
appassionata degli Indiani, particolarmente di coloro che
poteva incontrare in Inghilterra. Collezionava oggetti,
dipinti e schizzi che evocavano scene di vita del
subcontinente indiano. Più anziana cercò di riprodurre
il mondo orientale intorno a lei a Osborne House. Nel
suo Raj (Territori della Corona in India) cercò di difendere i
nativi dell’India dal duro dominio imperiale dei suoi
ministri, per affezione materna.»[mia traduzione]
Vittoria prendeva i suoi doveri di imperatrice con molta
serietà e quando arrivò il momento del suo giubileo
d’oro nel 1887 e fece ogni sforzo per mettere in risalto
il “gioiello dell’Impero Britannico” come chiamava il Raj.
Offrì banchetti sontuosi non solo alla nobiltà europea ma
anche per ai principi indiani, e partecipò a complicate
processioni a cavallo accompagnata dalla cavalleria coloniale
indiana. Aggiunse anche inservienti indiani alla famiglia
reale per aiutare nei festeggiamenti. Vittoria sviluppò una
particolare simpatia per uno dei suoi nuovi servitori, Abdul
Karim. Ben presto ruolo di questi cambiò: dal
servire al tavolo all’insegnare alla regina a leggere,
scrivere e parlare in Urdu, o ‘Industani’. La regina voleva
conoscere tutto dell’India, un paese sul quale dominava ma che
non poté mai visitare. Abdul le raccontò tutto di Agra, dai
frutti e le spezie locali ai panorami e ai suoni della sua
patria. In breve egli divenne il suo ‘Munshi’, o
insegnante, e si iniziò un’amicizia che sarebbe durata
più di una decade.
La biografia della regina Vittoriani
Nella sua biografia della regina Vittoria Strachey si
focalizza solo su uno dei tre elementi della propaganda
imperialista individuati da MacKenzie. Dopo che Vittoria
fu proclamata imperatrice dell’India, egli mostra come la
monarchia sia collegata all’imperialismo, e come Vittoria
incarni in modo particolarmente appropriato l’impero.
Lytton Strachey, La regina Vittoria, p. 330:
Naturalmente tutto il misticismo della costituzione inglese si
concentrava nella Corona, con la sua venerabile antichità, le
sue sacre rimembranze, le sue cerimonie imponenti e
spettacolose. Ma per quasi due secoli il buon senso aveva
predominato nel grande edificio e il piccolo cantuccio
inesplorato e inesplicabile aveva attratto ben poca attenzione
[riferimento a una zona della costituzione inglese che sfugge
al buon senso e ospita l’ elemento mistico]. Perché
l’imperialismo non è soltanto una questione d’affari, ma è
anche una questione di fede e col suo crescere crebbe anche il
lato mistico della vita pubblica inglese, e simultaneamente
una nuova importanza cominciò ad essere attribuita alla
Corona. Il bisogno di un simbolo della potenza inglese,
del valore inglese, dello straordinario e misterioso
destino dell’Inghilterra, cominciò a essere sentito più forte
che mai. Quel simbolo era rappresentato dalla Corona, e
la corona posava sul capo di Vittoria. Così avvenne che,
mentre al termine del regno il potere della sovrana era
sensibilmente diminuito, il prestigio della sovrana invece
era enormemente cresciuto.
I Britannici certamente concepivano il loro impero
gerarchicamente, in termini razzisti di superiorità e
inferiorità, centro e periferia, ma, come indicato da
Cannadine (2001), oltre alla considerazione dell’India basata
sulle differenze, la percepivano anche come un territorio
coloniale dotato di somiglianze: vedevano le altre popolazioni
composte di individui che si potevano comparare sulla base di
una somiglianza di status; questo portò al riconoscimento di
status sociali uguali — i principi sono principi ovunque — e
formò la base dell’estremamente elaborato territorio coloniale
dell’India. Questo aspetto è presente anche nella biografia di
Strachey, nella quale Vittoria è presentata come un matriarca
che governa il suo popolo, sia britannico sia coloniale. Ciò è
solennemente ricordato da Strachey in occasione del giubileo,
che legittimò lo status imperiale nella relazione che univa la
corona ai principi governanti del subcontinente indiano, ora
integrati nei principi aristocratici britannici.
Lytton Strachey, La regina Vittoria, p. 307:
L’anno seguente era il cinquantesimo del suo regno e nel
giugno lo splendido anniversario fu celebrato con pompa
solenne. Vittoria, circondata dai supremi dignitari del regno,
scortata da uno scintillante corteo di re e di principi, passò
attraverso la folla entusiasta della capitale per recarsi a
ringraziare Dio nell’abbazia di Westminster. In quell’ora di
trionfo le ultime tracce residue delle vecchie antipatie e
della vecchie discordie furono interamente cancellate. La
regina fu salutata a un tempo come la madre del suo popolo e
come il simbolo incarnato della grandezza imperiale
d’Inghilterra; ed ella corrispose a questo duplice sentimento
con tutto l’ardore del suo spirito. Ella sapeva, ella sentiva
che l’Inghilterra e il suo popolo erano, per un prodigio
meraviglioso e tuttavia semplicissimo, cosa sua. Esultanza,
affetto, gratitudine, un senso profondo di riconoscenza, un
orgoglio senza limiti: tali erano i suoi sentimenti — ma sopra
di essi vi era qualche altra cosa, che dava colore e
intensità a tutto il resto. Finalmente, dopo tanto tempo, la
felicità, per quanto frammentaria e carica di gravità, ma
tuttavia vera e indisconoscibile felicità, era ritornata a
lei. Questo insolito sentimento riempiva e accendeva
tutta la sua coscienza. Quando, ritornata a Buckingham Palace
dopo la fine della lunga cerimonia, le fu chiesto come si
sentiva: «Sono molto stanca, ma anche molto felice», rispose.
Strachey mostra anche la crescita del ruolo cerimoniale
dell’imperatrice. Con considerevole pompa si tennero
esibizioni indiane e coloniali, inaugurate da Vittoria. La
regina Vittoria divenne il perno del nuovo imperialismo,
percepito in gran Bretagna come un periodo di sicurezza e
prosperità. Per le celebrazioni del 1887 e 1897 vennero a
Londra primi ministri coloniali e principi indiani,
accompagnati da truppe e seguaci esotici e pieni di
colore. Così Strachey descrive il giorno che segue il
giubileo.
Lytton Strachey, La regina Vittoria, p. 308:
Così, dopo i travagli e le tempeste della giornata sopravvenne
un lungo crepuscolo dolce e sereno e illuminato dai raggi
dorati della gloria. Perché un’atmosfera senza esempio di
trionfo e di adorazione avvolse l’ultimo periodo della vita di
Vittoria. Il suo trionfo era la sintesi e l’emblema di un più
grande trionfo, della culminante prosperità della nazione. Il
consistente splendore del decennio [1887-1897] che trascorse
tra i due giubilei di Vittoria trova a stento eguali negli
annali dell’Inghilterra. I saggi consigli di Lord
Salisbury parvero portare con sé non soltanto la
ricchezza e la potenza, ma anche la sicurezza: e il paese si
assise con sicura tranquillità al godimento di una grandezza
ben stabilita. Come era naturale, anche Vittoria si assise.
Perché ella era una parte dell’edificio: una parte che
appariva essenziale; come un mobile, una magnifica e
inamovibile vetrina, nel vasto salone dello Stato. Senza di
lei il copioso festino del 1890 avrebbe perduto la sua qualità
più singolare: la serie così ben ordinata di sostanziosi e
semplici piatti, con il riflesso pesante, sulle pareti,
dell’argenteria quasi nascosta agli sguardi.
Osservazioni conclusive
Il punto centrale della biografia della regina Vittoria di
Strachey è la sua trasformazione da vedova petulante a
matriarca imperiale. Il ruolo mondiale di imperatrice fu per
lei fonte di eccitazione nella sua vecchiaia e conferì
nuovo significato al cerimoniale che la circondava.
Sebbene I toni più aspramente darwiniani dell’ideologia
imperialista siano assenti in questo lavoro, la luce
favorevole gettata sulla qualità mistica dell’impero
britannico e su Vittoria, lei stessa una tory imperialista non
da meno dei suoi ministri, mostra chiaramente che la biografia
di Strachey è opera di propaganda a favore della mentalità
coloniale così diffusa nella Gran Bretagna vittoriana ed
edoardiana in tutte le classi sociali e che, dice MacKenzies
(1990, p.4), inaugurò un periodo —che sarebbe durato fino
all’ascesa al trono di Elisabetta II — nel quale tutti I
grandi eventi reali sarebbero stati imperiali.
Bibliografia essenziale
Bearce George D. (1961). British Attitudes Towards
India,1784-1858. Oxford, Oxford University Press.
Cannadine David (2001). Ornamentalism.
How the British saw their Empire. Penguin Books, London.
Le Jeune Françoise (2017). "Queen Victoria’s orientalism,
inventing India in England". In Imaginaires, Féminisme et
orientalisme,21, hal.archives-ouvertes.fr-03313493.
MacKenzie John M. (1990, 1984). Propaganda and Empire. The
Manipulation of British public opinion, 1880-1960.
Manchester University Press.
Metcalf Thomas R. (1995). Ideologies of the Raj,
Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.
Nünning, Ansgar and Rupp, Jan. "The Dissemination of
Imperialist Values in Late Victorian Literature and Other
Media". In Ethics in Culture: The Dissemination of Values
through Literature and Other Media, edited by Astrid
Erll, Herbert Grabes and Ansgar Nünning, Berlin, New York: De
Gruyter, 2008, pp. 255-278.
Strachey, Lytton (1921). Queen Victoria. Release Date:
August 21, 2011 [EBook #37153]. Project Gutenberg.
Strachey, Lytton (1966). La regina Vittoria.
Traduzione a cura di Santino Caramella. Milano, Arnoldo
Mondadori editore.
[1] Sul ruolo propagandistico della letteratura si
veda Nünning, Ansgar e Rupp, Jan 2008.
Isa Blagden and Robert Lytton - Elena Giannarelli
2,30-3,30 John Ruskin and Oscar Wilde
Oscar
Wilde Traveller in Florence; Admirer of India - Rita
Severi
Oscar Wilde (1854-1900) is
the author of poems, a tragedy, letters and various writings
that are set, describe, or expound some of his ideas on
Florence and its greatest poet, Dante Alighieri. He first
visited Florence in 1875, when still a student
at Oxford, where he had attended Ruskin’s lectures. He
returned to the city in 1894, when he visited Violet
Paget/Vernon Lee and her step-brother Eugene Lee Hamilton. He
saw much of Bernard Berenson, a little less of André Gide,
toured Villa Stibbert and left his signature in the guest
book. Throughout his life he was attracted to the subcontinent
of India, to its spirituality and religion. As the editor of
“The Woman’s World” (1887-1890) he chose to review books about
Indian society and its women, and he solicited articles about
India, written by English authors who had visited and studied
that intriguing world. He was extremely keen in learning about
its sacred poetry and its ancient rituals. In his home, in
Tite Street, Chelsea, he surrounded himself with small Indian
decorative objects, and had most of the floors in the house
covered with Indian matting. In his tragedy, Salomé, in the
metaphorical “dance of the seven veils”, Wilde surprisingly
evokes one of the most complex and artistic Indian myths.
Ruskin and Mountains - Sir Nicholas Mander
Cityness
Alcune riflessioni sulla parola polis, civitas,
città/Some reflections on the word polis, civitas, city -
Francesca Ditifeci
Come diceva Aristotele l’essere umano è zoon politikon
echon ton logon, animale politico dotato di parola, corpo
abitato dalla parola. Ed è proprio nella sua identità di
parlessere che diviene cittadino, abitante della polis. Quindi
gli uomini sono esseri capaci di politica, perché sono esseri
capaci di linguaggio. In questa prospettiva diviene chiaro che
“in una città un posto ci deve essere per
tutti: un posto per pregare (la chiesa), un posto per amare
(la casa), un posto per lavorare (l’officina), un posto per
pensare (la scuola), un posto per guarire (l’ospedale). In
questo quadro cittadino, perciò, i problemi politici ed
economici, sociali e tecnici, culturali e religiosi della
nostra epoca prendono una impostazione elementare ed umana!
Appaiono quali sono: cioè problemi che non possono più
essere lasciati insoluti” (La Pira 1954).
E’ nella città che l’essere umano cerca la sua
realizzazione perché “per ciascuna di esse è valida la
definizione luminosa di Péguy: essere la città dell’uomo
abbozzo e prefigurazione della città di Dio. Città arroccate
attorno al tempio; irradiate dalla luce celeste che da esso
deriva: città nelle quali la bellezza ha preso dimora, s’è
trascritta nelle pietre: città collocate sulla montagna dei
secoli e delle generazioni: destinate ancora oggi e domani a
portare alla civiltà meccanica del nostro tempo e del tempo
futuro una integrazione sempre più profonda ed essenziale di
qualità e di valore! Ognuna di queste città non è un museo ove
si accolgono le reliquie, anche preziose, del passato: è una
luce ed una bellezza destinata ad illuminare le strutture
essenziali della storia e della civiltà dell’avvenire.” (La Pira 1955).
As Aristotle said, the human being is zoon
politikon echon ton logon, a political animal endowed
with speech, a body inhabited by speech. And it is precisely
in his identity as a parlessere that he becomes a citizen, an
inhabitant of the polis. Thus men are beings capable of
politics because they are beings capable of language. In this
perspective, it becomes clear that "in a city there must be a
place for everyone: a place to pray (the church), a place to
love (the home), a place to work (the workshop), a place to
think (the school), a place to heal (the hospital). In this
city framework, therefore, the political and economic, social
and technical, cultural and religious problems of our age take
on an elementary and human approach! They appear as they are:
that is, problems that can no longer be left unsolved” (La Pira 1954).
It is in the city that the human being seeks his fulfilment
because "for each of them Péguy's luminous definition is
valid: to be the city of man, a sketch and prefiguration of
the city of God. Cities perched around the temple; irradiated
by the celestial light that derives from it: cities in which
beauty has taken up residence, has transcribed itself in the
stones: cities placed on the mountain of centuries and
generations: destined still today and tomorrow to bring to the
mechanical civilisation of our time and of future times an
ever deeper and more essential integration of quality and
value! Each of these cities is not a museum where relics, even
precious ones, of the past are housed: it is a light and a
beauty destined to illuminate the essential structures of the
history and civilisation of the future” (La Pira 1955).
Mornings in Delhi - Arjun Shivaji Jain
INTRODUCTION
Taking after John Ruskin's 1886 Mornings in Florence 1, I
wish for the following to be what humble guidance I may
offer to travellers in Delhi, both Indian and not, to where
I was born and brought up, and returned to, to live and to
love. As did Ruskin, I intend to deliver it no otherwise
than I would to friends, who may’ve asked me for my views on
it, not caring of how ‘wrong’, academically, they might
perhaps turn out to be.
Over a course of a week, in spirit, I shall be walking with
you around the city. Who knows how much of eras bygone we
may encounter, how many of the numberless poets and painters
– all lovers in fact – we may meet? We will see what we do,
eyes unsullied by dogma. We will see like a child,
full-breathed and bright eyed. And may we decide also to see
– and it is indeed a decisions – to see happy-hearted? —
Before we begin, you’ll be ‘well-advised’, I imagine, by
doctors, to take your shots and everything – so you mayn’t
catch anything particularly nasty while you’re here; ‘Delhi
belly’ is what it’s usually called, I understand. Well, let
me tell you that you will indeed catch ‘something’, and that
no shot in the world will be able to prevent it really. You
may indeed fall sick, and decide to leave on the very first
morning, but you may decide to stay as well, forever and
ever. A guest is akin to God, it’s believed here in these
lands.
THE FIRST MORNING
LANDING
Ah! What a morning indeed! And what perfect weather! Can you
feel it on your skin? It seems it rained last night. Well,
don’t you open your eyes until I tell you to. — Now. See.
Carefully as your eyes might react to all this suddenness.
The air’s coloured quite differently, is it not? A bright
orange, I would say, and vague, as though veiled with white.
It smells different too, you know? Spicy and thick, of
incense, heavy as though you could collect in a jar and take
it back with you. I suggest you don’t speak for a while, at
all - but listen. Take the city in, the country in, the
subcontinent in – and perhaps the world. Most of today, let
me tell you, you may not actively remember, but only as in a
dream. So do seize the moment. Do dream the day away today.
And no, you will not be sleeping; it is not that sort of a
dream. There is no rest here to be found, at least not
initially. Why, your senses are all awake, aren’t they? Have
you seen as many colours before? Smelled as many scents?
Heard as many sounds, or touched as many things? Felt as
many feelings? All at once? Have you been inside an ocean,
and lived to tell the tale? Well this is it. Notice your
attention becoming sharper by the second. The weight of
sensation upon you. Infinite sensation. Like lightning it is
piercing through your consciousness. There no making sense
of anything. This is what life – pure life, raw life – looks
like.
THE SECOND MORNING
CHITTARANJAN PARK
Good morning! Did you have a good night’s sleep? You had
something, didn’t you? You need not answer. I wouldn’t be
surprised if your heart was still beating as fast as
yesterday. It takes some time indeed. We are walking through
Chittaranjan Park today, where I’ve been living for some
years now. The Bengali part of the city it is, the part of
town the poet Tagore would possibly be living in, were he
there. Bengal in Delhi, you ask? Why yes! All of India’s in
Delhi, really! And with time, you will see, all the rest of
the world as well. The honks, yes, of the cars? Yes, well it
is something we need constantly to contend with here.
Depending upon where you think Delhi ends, somewhere between
seventeen and forty-three million people call Delhi their
home – somewhere between the whole of the Netherlands, and
more than Ukraine. It’s funny though, overall, how
everything seems still to be working. If anywhere there was
chaos in the world, it is here, if anywhere anarchy, it too
– and yet, everyone seems to remain calm, more or less, and
everyone, more or less – more the poor than the rich – has a
smile on their face. Even the constant honking – it’s more a
‘hey, I’m here’ than ‘get off!’ really. And oh, you noticed
the animals as well? The stray cats and the stray dogs, and
the stray cows? Yes, get used to it – as they have, the
animals. Lions may well be the kings of the jungles here in
India, but cows are the kings of the cities. And oh, however
could we forget the monkeys? How dare we, really?
THE THIRD MORNING
GREEN PARK & DEER PARK
You know, in my childhood, we really did have snake charmers
as well? Not joking at all. I lived in Yusaf Sarai as a
child, once location of a medieval rest house, and now a
proper Delhi colony, an urban village. For all its
population and pollution, Delhi is, believe it or not, one
of the greenest cities in the world, as you of course can
see. Last month, the semal tree- red-cotton-silk was all in
bloom, in celebration of Holi perhaps, the festival of
colours. Oh yes, we have loads of them, festivals. Every
couple of weeks, seriously! But yes, it was semal then, and
soon it will all be amaltas everywhere, laburnum, and
Gulmohar, the beautifully crimson Royal Poinciana – which
you can in fact eat! It’s somewhat sour! Let me take you to
Deer Park next, rather nearby, and my favourite park when
young. Oh, look! A peacock! And rabbits! And deer! And
oh God, it smells so nice, doesn’t it? It smells of
innocence. And oh, see the mulberry tree is all quite ripe
now. Do you want to have a taste? Come on, don’t be so
delicate! Pick one off right from the branch – the darker
blackish ones are sweeter- and pop it into your mouth.
Washing it takes most of the sugar away, it seems.
Delicious, isn’t it? And hey, there’s a eucalyptus tree,
see? Come, I’ll show you something. Here, rub these dry
leaves in your palm – crush them, really – and have a whiff?
Yeah? I see you’re distracted by all the names of lovers
carved in the trees here.
THE FOURTH MORNING
CHANDNI CHOWK
Oh, how impertinent of me to not have asked you for food
yet? It’s been three days already! Well, let me take you to
Chandni Chowk then today, the Moonlit Square. Now, this is
Old Delhi, the real Delhi if you will, before the British.
It’s rather like the Gothic Quarters in Barcelona, isn’t
it?! Ah, if only there were less people, or the government
would pay more attention. Well anyway, if you thought you’d
seen everything the day you landed, you are not prepared, I
swear. All kinds of odd people you will see today, all kinds
of odd things going on. The architecture, though crumbling,
is beautiful though, isn’t it? God knows how many years
these buildings have been here? All arched, and latticed,
and filigreed, almost. Yet, no one to take care of them.
Well, let us begin at the Red Fort today, stronghold of the
Mughal Empire, the penultimate, or perhaps third to last,
great city of Delhi, from seven, or nine, or eleven, who can
tell? Every little lane here sells something completely
different – spices, paper, jewellery, kites, the borders of
saris for God’s sake! And oh, food! Now that is here on
every corner. You know, the real art is always that of food?
The artists all pretend, I feel sometimes, with their
paintings. But beware, Delhi’s food is not for the
faint-hearted. It is vegetarian, yes, almost all of it, but
spiced to a degree you might feel yourself in hell – but
give it time, and it’ll be a hell you will crave! Come,
let’s have some chole-kulche, and kachori? What about some
nagori? Naan-khataai? Topped off with glass of fizzy
lemonade?
THE FIFTH MORNING
LODHI GARDENS
Did you notice, I wonder, all along your left yesterday, the
sequence of buildings we were passing? I’m not sure if such
a thing exists anywhere else in the world, but one-by-one,
one after the other, neighbouring each other, we passed
across a Jain temple, a Hindu temple, a Baptist church, A
Sikh Gurudwara, and two medieval mosques! Unbelievable,
isn’t it? But let us go the Lodhi Gardens now, yet another
of the many Delhis of the past, now converted into a park.
The sheer number of monuments Delhi has, really, is
staggering. They’re just there. Here, there, everywhere, and
often no one looks at them for a second time even, they are
so ingrained in the Delhiite’s mind. Well, the Lodhi Gardens
are lush, as you can see. Thriving with vegetation. The
buildings are all what, a thousand years old? All built of
quartzite, grey, with fire inside, quartzite from the
ancient Aravalli range of mountains, all but a memory from
the past now, mostly. This part of Delhi, as you can see, of
New Delhi, is proper New Delhi. I do wish sometimes the rest
of it could also look like it. Well, this is where the
politicians live, these are ‘their’ gardens, it seems. This,
and all around - you may forget you’re in India for a minute
or two. My feelings for it are mixed. I do love it – it is
beautiful! But so is so much more, if only it were taken
care of better, or at all. The taxpayer’s money? Well, this
is where it goes, I suppose, to the habitation of the
tax-man.
THE SIXTH MORNING
RED HOUSE
And now that we come to the end of these six days in Delhi,
I would like to take you somewhere new today, somewhere you
can feel where the city might proceed towards, if tended to
carefully. It is a sad fact of this country, as many in the
region, that its citizens, if given the choice, will indeed
flee it at once. The moral fibre of the nation, once famed,
if you delve deep enough, you may not find it too easily
today. The fickleness of certain peoples, really, Is
unbelievable. And yet, places like these do also exist –
like the Red House. May all of Delhi look someday like this?
Built progressively of brick, naked brick, and lime,
latticed in every pattern? And arched, wherever an arch can
fit? There were no plans for this, you know, no
architectural blueprints? It was worked upon like a
sculpture, with love every day. Come, let us sit in the open
courtyard for a while, and let us enjoy the
all-embowered-ness of it. Say, would you like some tea
perhaps? The smell of the Rangoon creeper is all about us,
threatening to make us stay here forever. Ah, look, a band
of youngsters have just come in. They’re here for a workshop
it seems. They speak in English, though not affected, and
are dressed quite fashionably, no? And how beautifully they
feel a part of all this? Have they all known each before, do
you reckon? Or has this place done something to them? Now
this is precious. The sunlight’s so very beautiful. All of
life feels so very beautiful. Let us not make haste for
tomorrow. This is good!
THE SEVENTH MORNING
DILLI HAAT
CONCLUSION
Well, perhaps a week wasn’t at all sufficient for such a
tour, was it? As did Ruskin, I’m afraid I couldn’t quite
pick out any very particular works of art for you to
consider, but it really is difficult here, this, you know?
Art isn’t there anymore, in the obvious sense, anywhere, to
look at here. Perhaps it’s everywhere? It’s not quite looked
at the same way at all, you see. Things aren’t as
classified, as conquered, and as made slaves here of the
intellect. They are more to be felt, I feel. More to be
sensed by an open heart, than mind. Still, the murmurs of
the centuries do reside, as promises of the future. The city
continues – God knows how, but it does! — Say, would
you like some mementoes from this trip of ours to keep with
you, to take back with you? Let us go once to Dilli Haat
before you leave, the bazaar in the heart of this
metropolis. You can tell me whatever catches your fancy,
alright? It’ll be my gift to you. Oh, how about this
gold-embroidered skirt? This indigo scarf? Any of these
infinite heavy rugs? Or mango? Oh, yes, mangoes - of
hundreds of varieties – the king of the fruits! If you’ve
never had them before, you will not perhaps believe how
sweet they are, and how in the world such sweetness could
ever have been sucked out of the ground? Well, there is
something in the soil here, there is indeed. How else could
Gandhi have been born here? How else Mahavira, and Buddha?
And everything else in existence? But I’m afraid I may have
trapped you! Who, in their right mind, could bear to leave
these alleyways? These are not the ‘streets’ of Delhi, my
friend, but the canvas of an artist. Delhi. The chosen city
of the world. The city that the heavens have looted and laid
waste, time and again. Delhi alone is the city of love. And
I’m an inhabitant of this destroyed garden. — Farewell! We
shall see each other again.
REFERENCES
1 The Complete Works of John Ruskin, Library
Edition. Volume XXIII, pp. 293-436. Lancaster University.
Available online at lancaster.ac.uk/media/lancaster-university/content-assets/documents/ruskin/23ValdArno.pdf
Restoration
The Indian
Memorial, Florence - Dr Rosie Llewellyn-Jones MBE
The Cascine Park in Florence contains an unusual funerary
monument to an Indian ruler – Rajaram II of Kolhapur. The
rajah, only twenty years old, died on 30 November 1870 at the
Hotel della Pace in Manin Square, Florence. He was on his
way home, travelling through Europe after spending nearly five
months in England. Kolhapur was a small, nominally
independent state in the southern Mahratta country, now in
Maharashtra. It was not part of British India although the
British government had appointed a Political Agent and the
education of the young rajah was being carefully
supervised. If he proved to be an unsuitable ruler, in
British eyes, he would have been quietly deposed and a more
malleable successor appointed. But Rajaram developed into
a model prince, forward looking, interested in science and the
arts, speaking fluent English, writing it fairly well and being
generally amenable to Captain Edward West who was appointed as
‘special assistant’ to superintend his education and
training. A Parsi graduate from Bombay University acted as
the rajah’s tutor.
Although a practising Hindu, and conscious of his distinguished
Mahratta ancestry, Rajaram became anglicised and developed a
taste for the society of Europeans. He would visit the
British quarter of Kolhapur and listen to the regimental band
playing in the evenings while chatting to people in the
audience. He enjoyed attending dinner parties, and he
learnt to dance quadrilles. It was his meeting in Bombay
with Prince Alfred, Queen Victoria’s second son, that first put
the idea of a visit to England into the rajah’s mind. But
there were a number of problems that had to be solved
first. Many Hindus would not travel out of India because
it meant crossing the kala pani, the black water, and that
meant they would lose caste. Then there was the problem of food
– Rajaram would not have eaten at the British dinner parties in
Kolhapur unless he brought his own food, prepared by Brahmin
cooks. He had to take a cook and an assistant with him to
England and they had to take their cooking pots with them and
all the necessary spices too. The only things that could
be purchased abroad were live fowls, eggs and vegetables.
Nevertheless, Rajaram sailed from Bombay in 1870 with Captain
West, the unnamed Parsi tutor and 11 native attendants.
The party arrived at Folkestone, on the Kent coast on 14th
June, then took the train to Charing Cross station and from
there drove to a rented house near Hyde Park. The
arrangements would have been made by staff from the India Office
because this was an important event – the first time a reigning
Hindu prince had visited England. A busy programme was
drawn up. During the first week Rajaram visited Madame
Tussauds the wax-works gallery, Trafalgar Square and the Tower
of London. He was greeted warmly at the India Office, the
governmental department which had succeeded the old East India
Company that had been abolished in 1858. The Company had
established its own museum and the rajah was surprised to see
such a large collection of Indian antiquities in London.
Some of his visits were prompted by his own interest in new
technology like the lecture at the Regent Street Polytechnic
that used magic lantern slides and the electric telegraph
office, where messages could be received from India and answered
too, all within five minutes. Tourist attractions including the
British Museum, the Crystal Palace, Kew Gardens and St Paul’s
Cathedral which were all thoroughly enjoyed. Other events
were arranged specifically to show off Victorian England at her
best, and by implication, the benefits that India could receive
under benevolent British rule. Rajaram was presented twice
to the widowed Queen Victoria at Windsor Castle; he attended the
Houses of Parliament, where he saw democracy in action and met
the Prime Minister, William Gladstone and Benjamin
Disraeli. He was invited to a graduation ceremony at
Oxford University where the uproarious behaviour of the students
astonished him.
It was not all formal visits – the rajah enjoyed the traditional
cricket match between Eton and Harrow schools at Lord’s Cricket
Ground; he took dancing lessons, played croquet on the lawn of a
country house, and attended the theatre several times to
hear Adelina Patti, the celebrated Italian opera singer whom he
greatly admired. He met a number of fellow countrymen who
had settled in England, including Dadabhai Naoroji, the first
Indian MP and he visited the maharajah Duleep Singh, whose Sikh
kingdom had been taken by the British, and who was now living as
a country gentleman in Suffolk. Rajaram also met the nawab
nazim of Bengal, Mansur Ali Khan, who had come to England to
appeal against the British government’s seizure of his former
stipend, the nizamat fund. The two men, both Indian rulers
in their own right, and both seeking different things, conversed
in English in the foreign country that governed their own.
Rajaram showed little insight into his own position and Captain
West, who edited his diary after the rajah’s death says that it
was simply a day-to-day account of visits and events, rather
than an analysis of Indo-British relations or any deep-seated
reflections on his own anomalous position. Indians were
still a rarity even in London at the time and when the rajah and
his party took a carriage drive in Victoria Park, east London,
he noted that ‘the people who were walking in the park were
astonished to see us natives and used to make a great noise
whenever they saw us’.
After brief visits to Scotland, the Midlands and Ireland, where
he was greeted by the Viceroy in Dublin, the group left Dover on
1st November, travelling to Ostend, then through Belgium and
into Germany. The outbreak of the Franco-Prussian war
meant that France was to be avoided. On 11th November the rajah
made the last hand-written entry in his diary – subsequent
entries were dictated by him, probably to Captain West.
Two days later Rajaram reported that he ‘had an attack of fever
and was very poorly’. On the following day, 14th November,
he could not walk ‘on account of a sight attack of rheumatism’
and had to be carried in a chair to his carriage at
Innsbruck. He seemed to rally as the group arrived in
Venice and was carried in a sedan chair to the Doges’ Palace and
the piazza St Marco. In Florence the rajah reluctantly
agreed to be examined by an English physician, Dr Fraser – he
had brought his own Indian doctor with him – but there was a
sudden deterioration in his condition and he died in his hotel
suite on 30th November. The cause of death, without a
post-mortem, was given vaguely as ‘abdominal viscera, together
with collapse of nervous power’ which doesn’t explain the
rheumatic symptoms. The sad news was telegraphed to the
rajah’s family in Kolhapur.
In death rajah Rajaram presented far more problems than he had
done in life. His Hindu attendants insisted that his body
be cremated but this was strictly forbidden by the municipality
of Florence. Imprisonment for two years was the penalty
for not burying a corpse in a coffin. Now, by a curious
coincidence the question of cremation had been raised a year
earlier in Florence, when the city hosted the second
International Medical Conference in September 1869 attended by
delegates from as far afield as India and America. During
the two-week conference a paper was read by Dr Pierre
Castiglioni, who was himself a Florentine. ‘On the incineration
of corpses’ was a well-argued if radical idea. Cemeteries had
become insalubrious places he said, with the odour from
poorly-buried bodies penetrating through urban areas.
Battlefields were also a problem when corpses could not be
speedily buried. There were religious objections, Dr Castiglioni
said, and technical difficulties too before crematoria had been
developed. But, he concluded, was it not better for
mourners to have a ‘handful of dust’ (une poignée de poussière)
that was purified, light and without odour, than the thought of
a loved one decomposing on a couch of vermin and
putrefaction. This powerful and emotive speech was warmly
applauded and the motion carried that cremation was to be
preferred to inhumation. Although it did not become fully
legal for another eighteen years, a crematorium was built in
Milan in 1876 and Italy was in the forefront of the technical
developments with engineers visiting England to advise. By
1885 the first crematorium had been established at Woking in
southern England.
We do not know whether Dr Castiglioni was consulted after the
rajah’s death when frantic discussions were held to resolve two
opposing ideologies as time ran out. A Hindu cremation normally
takes place within 24 hours, for obvious reasons. The
doctor would certainly have supported the cremation and it is
possible that it set some kind of precedent as the debate
continued in the 1870s. Clearly it was possible to be both
deeply religious and to practice cremation – it was just a
different religion to the stern Catholic beliefs prevailing at
the time. Captain West outlined what happened after the
rajah’s death had been certified by the local doctor, Enrico
Passigli. Signor Peruzzi, the Syndic of Florence (the
chief municipal officer) went immediately to the British
Legation to meet Sir Augustus Paget, the British Consul and to
discuss the cremation. Peruzzi, from an old Florentine
family of considerable importance brushed aside the objections
from ‘other parties’ and overcame them with his ‘well-known
sentiments of religious tolerance’. Arrangements for the
funeral procession and the cremation were in place by 1.00 am
and the Director of the Municipal Police and the Secretary of
the Municipal Sanitary Commission were informed.
The place chosen for the cremation was at the far end of the
Cascine Park, on the bank of the river Arno, in a deserted and
open esplanade. Normally the body would have been carried
on a bier at shoulder height by four or six men but it was
agreed this would attract too much attention, so a
horse-drawn omnibus belonging to the hotel was used. The
rajah’s servants seated themselves inside, facing one another,
and supported the plank on which the body lay across their
knees. It was not exactly a dignified exit, but it avoided
the body being placed on the floor. In spite of the early
hour and the bad weather a number of carriages and a large crowd
had got wind of the event and followed the cortege to the place
where the funeral pyre was already piled up. The body was
reverently placed on top of the three foot high mound with its
face turned towards the east at 1.30 am. Eyewitness
accounts differ on how the rajah was dressed for this final act
– some reported large pearl necklaces, gold bracelets and jewels
on a turban, although another description of a rich red shawl
with borders embroidered in gold sounds more likely. The
head was anointed with ghee and sandalwood and branches of birch
trees heaped up. The whole scene was lit by small paper
lanterns carried by the rajah’s servants. Just before 2.00
am a torch was applied to the pyre and a strong north wind aided
the flames. The Indian servants sat crossed-legged on the
ground, praying quietly and bowing towards the
pyre. By 10.00 am on the morning of 1st
December, it was finished and the municipal guards helped to
collect the fragments of bones and ash and deposit them in a
porcelain vase which closed with a red cloth and sealing wax.
The pyre site was cleaned and washed and grains of rice
scattered on the grass as an offering to the dead man’s soul.
As news of the rajah’s decease spread in Kolhapur, a public
meeting was arranged and on 18th December 1870 a Rajaram
Chhatrapati Memorial Committee was set up. A subscription
list was opened specifically to endow the Kolhapur High School
with scholarships for the deserving poor. The late rajah
had laid the foundation stone for the school the year before and
education for both boys and girls was one of his particular
interests. The school was renamed in his honour.
In Florence, near the site of the cremation, a handsome
Indian-style canopy supported on four elaborate pillars covers a
fine bust of Rajaram. The sculptor, Charles Francis
Fuller, was a sensitive choice. Born in Britain, Fuller
moved to Florence in the 1850s and was part of a small group of
artistic ‘exiles’, happy in their adopted country. The
bust is based on photographs of the rajah taken while he was in
London and shows him wearing the traditional Mahratta turban,
with a peak on the right-hand side. According to
descriptions of those who met him in England, he was never seen
without this turban for it would have been unspeakably rude of
him to appear bare-headed in company. The canopy, based on
the Indian chhatri, was designed by Major Charles Mant of the
Bombay Engineers. Mant went on to have an profitable
career as an architect in India and he designed a number of
palaces for minor royal rulers. In particular he was
commissioned by Rajaram’s successor, Narain Rao, to design a new
palace for Kolhapur, which was a fantastic mixture of
Indo-Saracenic architecture, bristling with towers, turrets,
domes and kiosks, and was completed in 1884. It is not
known who paid for the Florence chhatri and bust, although there
is a suggestion it may have been the rajah’s family.
A bridge near the site, opened in 1978 is known simply as the
Indian Bridge, a nice tribute to this modest prince who had
hoped to introduce new ideas to Kolhapur after his visit to
Europe, but who sadly never went home.
Restoration of the memorial, which had deteriorated, began in
2019 and was complicated due to the varied composition and
exposure to the elements: crumbling of the marble and sandstone
ornaments, disintegration of the face and bust, and losses in
the decoration caused by reconstruction efforts using a variety
of techniques over time. The monument also presented a worrying
structural deficit on one of the cast iron columns supporting
the canopy. The project, now completed, was managed
by the city’s fine arts department and cost 240,000 euros.
Captions to Rajaram article
The restored monument in the Cascine Park
Bust of Rajah Rajaram by Charles Francis
Fuller Rajah Rajaram, from a
photograph, 1870
The New Palace, Kolhapur
Edinburgh
– Historic Burial Grounds both as exemplar and at risk - Dr
Peter Burman MBE FSA, architectural historian and conservator
Peter Burman began to be interested in historic burial grounds
as a schoolboy exploring churches and churchyards in his
native county of Warwickshire. This led him to study History
of Art at the University of Cambridge. His first role was as
Assistant, Deputy then Director of the Council for the Care of
Churches and the Cathedrals Fabric Commission for England. In
this role, which lasted for twenty-two years, he and his
colleagues were constantly giving advice and grants for the
conservation and repair of sculpturally important monuments
both within churches and outside churches in the historic
burial grounds which typically surround them. He began to work
not only with conservators to conserve them but also with
craftspeople to ensure that new monuments were beautiful and
meaningful.
Later, as Director of Conservation & Property Services of
the National Trust for Scotland, he found himself living
within the City of Edinburgh World Heritage Site and this
encouraged him to take an interest in the five historic burial
grounds which are situated there. They are places of memory,
but also social places, visited by many who are interested in
their heritage and human values. He is fascinated by their
artistic and historic interest but also by the role they can
play in the contemporary community of a city. In Edinburgh (as
in all other cities where historic burial grounds exist) there
many aspects which have to be managed: keeping the frequently
ambitious architecture of mausolea in good repair through
regular maintenance (in Edinburgh they include temple-like
mausolea designed by 18th century members of the famous Adam
family of architects); walls, often extensive and impressive
in character; conservation of sculpture, using materials
compatible with the original; drainage; archaeology; wildlife;
flowers and greensward. Ideally these historic burial grounds
need to be quiet and dignified, and yet at the same time
welcoming and safe. Architecture and artistic sculpture,
allied with beautiful and characterful lettering, have their
part to play, but there is also often a personal response to
these landscapes of melancholy beauty.
The challenges of caring for these special landscapes of
memory are many and varied but the Edinburgh burial grounds
are probably typical of many urban situations: shortage of
funds; lack of clarity about the ownership of monuments;
neglect (leading to standard conservation problems of soiled
stonework; open joints; poor repairs, using cement instead of
lime-based mortars; vegetation); vandalism, even theft;
legibility of inscriptions; anti-social behaviour; greed of
developers on adjacent sites; and so on.
Peter Burman will speak from many years of rich experience of
conserving architectural and artistic heritage, and of being
joint author with Henry Stapleton of the Churchyards Handbook,
which has been through many editions over the years. In his
‘churches role’ he frequently collaborated with experts on
tress, mosses and lichen; lettering and sculpture; in the
organisation of Churchyard Study Days to introduce local
people to the beauties, interests and specialness of their
historic burial ground.
INDIA
23 April, Red House, Delhi
Ruskin
and his Tuscan Sybil, Francesca Alexander - Emma Sdegno.
In October 1882, on his last visit to Tuscany,
Ruskin was introduced in Florence to Francesca Alexander, an
American expatriate, daughter of a couple of Boston artists.
With a passion for Tuscany and for its people, Francesca
gathered folk songs orally transmitted among the contadini, and composed
a beautiful manuscript with the poems she transcribed and
translated into English, decorated with drawings of wild
flowers, portraits of the people and scenes illustrating the
songs. This
work had philanthropic purposes as Francesca’s aim was not to
publish it as such but to sell the sole manuscript for the
financial benefit of the poor Italian peasantry that had
provided them. When he saw the 108-page manuscript Ruskin
immediately offered to buy it and acquire the copyright to
publish the work as its editor with the aim of conveying to the English mind “some
sympathetic conception of the reality of the sweet soul of
Catholic Italy”. In my paper
I shall outline the fascinating history of Ruskin’s editing of
Francesca Alexander’s Roadside Songs of Tuscany, and his endeavour to compose a spiritual
memorial of the Abetone peasants and the mysticism of their
everyday life.
Masculinisation of the ‘Motherland’:
Analyzing Rabindranath Tagore’s The Home and the World through
an Ecofeminist Lens - Pritha Chakraborty
The paper aims to deal with the concept of ‘Motherland’ as
perceived in the text of Rabindranath Tagore’s The Home and
the World. It aims to scrutinise the concept of ‘home’ and the
‘world’ and how it directly impacts the women of the nation.
It aims to bring out the hypocritical ideologies of the
nationalist in the wake of India’s freedom struggle movement.
It shows how nineteenth-century Bengal saw the emergence of
fanatic nationalists who created an image of the nation as a
Motherland and inscribed the name ‘Bharat Mata’ associated
with the landmass. Ironically, it was this motherland that was
systematically eroded on the basis of religious bigotry,
communalism and a fanatic cry of the Nationalists who worked
in the policy of inclusion and exclusion of the members of the
nation. The criteria for belonging to a nation were based on
cultural assimilation, common tradition, language, and so on.
In India, the concept of nationalism was built on Vedic
civilization which claimed that India is a nation for Hindus
and by Hindus. It is this systematic exclusion of certain
members of society from the nation-building process that is
questioned and reinterrogated. On the one hand, women were
given the status of Goddess and ‘Shakti’ and on the other
hand, it was this ‘Shakti’ that was infringed and violated in
the hands of masculine powers of the state who wanted the
nation to be built as per their own ideologies. Using Vandana
Shiva’s concept of ‘Masculinization of Motherland’, it aims to
show how the nation was shifting to ‘fatherland’ from the
so-called idolized mother-worship of the nation as all the
powers of the nation-building process were laid in the hands
of the fanatic men who attempted to defend mother lands’
honour.
The paper shows Bimala, the female protagonist of the novel
torn between the ideologies of the nineteenth-century ‘Bhadra
Mahila’ concept and the association of her womanhood with
‘Mother India’. Nineteenth-century Bengal was in the process
of enlightening their women with western education and by the
middle of the century, Indian nationalism began to feel a
sense of superiority among their women and wanted them to
withdraw from the world and bring their entire attention to
their household. In a similar context, Kundamala Debi had
advised women: “If you have acquired real knowledge, then give
no place in your heart to memsahib-like behaviour. This is not
becoming in a Bengali housewife. See how an educated woman can
do housework thoughtfully and systematically in a way unknown
to an ignorant, uneducated woman. And see how if God had not
appointed us to this place in the home, how unhappy a place
the world would be.” (qtd in Chatterjee 129). A similar idea
was rooted in Bimala’s ideology. Her ideology of womanhood was
associated with ‘female virtues’. She considered the duties
towards her husband Nikhil as her sole motif of life and
worshipped him. She comments that when she would take the dust
of her husband’s feet without waking him, at such moments she
could “feel the vermilion mark upon her (my) forehead shining
out like morning star” (20). This shows her as directly
attached to the concept of ‘homely’ women.
However, later in the novel, the emergence of Sandeep as a
nationalist leader intrigues Bimala. His enthusiastic words on
claiming the nation from the clutches of western power
motivate Bimala to side with him. Further, his tagging of her
as ‘Queen Bee’, and ‘Mother Goddess’ become problematised in
the concept of nationhood. Bimala is easily awestruck at the
charismatic voices of freedom that Sandip aims to achieve in
the name of Swadeshi. He claims, “You are the Queen Bee of our
hive, and we the workers shall rally around you. You shall be
our centre, our inspiration” (47). Bimala gets enchanted by
the notion of freedom which not only concerns the land but her
own self. Her door to freedom was opened by his husband
himself, who wanted her to open her mind and seek her own
individuality.
Sandip with his poetical oration translates the politics of
Swadeshi into her being and builds a pedestal of her linking
her with the image of divine Shakti around whom the world
would revolve. He symbolically relates the emerging land with
the power of Shakti and hails the nation as ‘Bande Mataram’.
However, ‘Hail Mother’ becomes a multi-layered phrase for him
to entrap Bimala in the pseudo-freedom struggle of the nation.
The nationalist struggle for freedom becomes a male endeavour
where in the words of Vandana Shiva, “A politics of exclusion
and violence is built in the name of nationalism.
Masculinization of motherland thus involves the elimination of
all associations of strength with the feminine and with
diversity” (111). In the nationalist discourse, like the women
of the times, the land is perceived as the ‘other’ which
needed protection from her ‘virile sons. Such protection is
provided by masculine figures through the medium of violence
and armed conflicts. Tagore saw nationalism as the brainchild
of the West which was organised by some self-interested
agendas of fanatic people who wanted to exploit all other
communities for their own selfish gains. Shiva notes,
“Hindutva, it is being repeatedly stated, is the ideology of a
modernising India. Yet, as they are unfolding, liberalization
and modernization are based on breaking all links with the
motherland. Musicalisation of the motherland results in the
disappearance of the motherland from the hearts and minds of
the people” (111).
The novel clearly seems to portray the nation as an object
that needs to be looted and snatched and won by force. Sandeep
is the embodiment of such violence where the nation becomes a
mere thing to be plundered to attain its freedom, which is in
sheer contrast to the ideology of his friend, Nikhil, who
believes in an all-inclusive nation which is not divided or
violated on the basis of aggressive nationalism, as he claims,
“Use force? But for what? Can force prevail over Truth? (100)
Nikhil’s honesty and idealism are contrasted with Sandip’s
cunning, and flagrant narcissism. As per his Machiavellian
ideologies, “There is no time for nice scruples…We must be
unswervingly, unreasoningly, brutal. We must sin” (50).
Nation, therefore, becomes an embodiment of a woman who is
overpowered by masculinity and is snatched of her ideal
womanhood by leading her towards the path of infidelity. As
Paola Bachetta notes that for two of India’s spiritual
leaders, Rama Krishna and Aurobindo, mother as a symbol of the
country was charged with love for all their children, in all
its diversity. However, Hindutva Bharat Mata had to be
‘rescued’ by her ‘virile sons’ who use means of deceit, and
illegal means and further the concept of colonialism in
achieving their end. Sandip is so atrocious and greedy in
accumulating material wealth in the name of building up a
nation that he does not hesitate to encourage his own friend’s
wife to rob her own husband for the sake of the benefit of the
nation. Tagore in this context termed nation-building as the
biggest evil to the civilization since it is based on power
dynamics and coercion that merely focuses on amassing wealth
and manifesting terror on innocent individuals of the nation.
Nineteenth-century India was based on hegemonic masculinity
where men’s honour was significantly related to their proof of
hegemonic masculinity. This includes maintaining their
chivalry and honour by limiting the boundary between the women
and the nation and enabling them to function as per the
instruction manual of the men and the powerful politics
revolving around them. Peterson notes, “Motherland is a
woman’s body and as such is ever in danger of violation- by
‘foreign’ males. To defend her frontiers and her honour
requires relentless vigilance and the sacrifice of countless
citizen warriors…” (80). In this context, it can be noted that
Sandip’s approach and his false oratory speeches in order to
instigate Bimala towards violating her own ‘home’ stands in
paradoxical contrast to the motive of freeing the country from
the clutches of colonialism.
Benedict Anderson notes that a nation is an ‘imagined
community’. It clearly advocates the fact that a nation
subscribing entirely to dominant ideologies and beliefs and
sustaining the system of inclusion and exclusion is bound to
be an imaginary endeavour and nothing concrete is expected to
be drawn out of it. Sandip’s cry of nationalism remains a void
cry devoid of devotion and based solely on personal gains. His
theory of boycott of foreign goods and forcing the innocent
village people to give up their trade was a source of
outrageous violence in the name of freeing the country from
the foreign rule. His concept of nationalism was pretentious
and became harmful to the Hindus and Muslims of the nation. He
had provoked the youths of Nikhil’s village to impose violence
against the poor, innocent neighbours so that they are
terrorised into accepting his own concept of a nation. As
noted by Leonard A. Gordon, “The Indian nationalist movement
as it developed in Bengal during the last quarter of the
nineteenth century was dominated by high-caste Hindus... but
the Muslims in Bengal lagged behind the Hindus in education,
the professions and the government services. Most of the
Muslims were lower-class cultivators in the eastern districts
of Bengal proper” (278). Whereas for Nikhilesh, the idea of
Swadeshi involved the inclusion of all the communities of the
nation, Sandeep’s religious-centric idea and further exclusion
of a certain section of people from joining hands in freeing
the motherland served as a failure of the nationalistic
project. Anita Desai in this context points out that Sandip
“resembles nothing so much as the conventional blackguard of
the Indian stage or the Bombay cinema, stroking his handlebar
moustache as he gloats over a bag of gold and a cowering
maiden” (55).
Bimala’s body thus stands as a site of war and a possession to
be looted and plundered in the name of saving the nation.
Claiming her through false oratory speeches acts as a means of
exploitation of the gender. Representation of her as ‘Mother
Goddess’ makes her think that it is her duty to protect the
nation’s honour. The eroticisation of nation with regards to
women’s body not only place them within the idea of national
but also make them the bearers of cultures and therefore more
vulnerable to violence. Their inclusion in the conflict serves
as a means of influencing the future generation and involving
them in the fanatic cry for the liberation of the nation.
Mrinalini Sinha mentions that women are burdened to balance
the “in-betweenness” (22) of precolonial tradition and
postcolonial modernity. They are expected to seek modernity in
the guile of tradition where she acts as the upholder and
preserver of culture. Bimala is seen to be the keen upholder
of this tradition where her preference for home is a
paradigmatic presentation of the harmony that she seeks
through the devotional aspect of womanhood. Her story starts
with her dedication towards her home and ends in reversion to
the ways of the home after she sees through Sandip’s evil
motives.
The whole idea of belonging to a nation becomes gendered where
men are expected to be masculine and show masochistic traits
in saving the nation whereas women are supposed to be
sacrificial, faithful and pure. In Burdens of Nationalism, Uma
Chakravarti mentions how in Sri Lanka, men were the ones
participating in armed conflicts whereas women were expected
to attach sentimental values and grieve for the loss. The
creation of the idea of women as Mothers has attached the
concept of reproduction to them where they are bound into a
heterosexual construct that only subordinates them. Though
Bimala as a dutiful and responsible wife got attracted to the
seduction of Sandeep and his comparison of her with the Mother
Goddess, rises her to a pedestal where she is inspired to coax
her own husband to adopt the violent means and support Sandeep
in burning the foreign goods in favour of uplifting swadeshi
goods, she is torn between the ‘home’ and the ‘world’ where it
is her ‘zenana’ that she connects herself with and wants to
return to until it is too late and Nikhilesh gets caught up
amidst the turbulent violence in the nation. It therefore,
signifies that in the name of nation and nationalism, women
are caught in between the fervour of men’s politics where she
remains a puppet in their hands just as the country is bound
to suffer at the hands of violent politics as Maria Miles
notes, “Since the beginning of modern nation-state (the
fatherlands) women have been colonized. This means the modern
nation-state necessarily controlled their sexuality, their
fertility and their work capacity or labour-power. And it is
this colonization that constitutes the foundation of what is
now being called ‘civil society’. The militarization of men in
the name of nation-building not only hits women of other
communities but also the female of one’s own community”
(27).
Bankim Chandra Chatterjee’s cry for independent India through
the national song of ‘Bande Mataram’ in his famous novel
Anandamath (1882) where the Motherland is praised to its
utmost for being the bearer of rich culture and heritage,
systematically shifts to ‘father state’ through the turn of
the century when ‘Motherland’ which initially referred to
Bengal, shifted to India and the country got ‘raped’ in the
name of nationalism. The rich cultural heritage of the nation
got divided between different communities when seeds of
communalism started to infringe on the nation with the
division of Bengal in 1905 where the largely Muslim eastern
areas were separated from the largely Hindu western areas.
Nikhilesh as the spokesperson of Tagore in the novel, speaks
about the union of Hindus and Muslims in the fight against
colonialism as against Sandeep’s view of excluding the Muslims
from the nationalistic endeavours, as according to him, Bengal
stood only as the land of the Hindus. Such polarization of the
nation in the name of bigotry and religion led to the further
disintegration of a ‘motherland’ where warfare constituted the
creation of a masculine country devoid of humanity and
devotion. Tagore in his Nobel Prize acceptance speech notes,
“We must discover the most profound unity, the spiritual unity
between the different races. Man is not to fight with other
human races, other human individuals, but his work is to bring
about reconciliation and Peace and restore the bonds of
friendship and love” (Arun).
In the name of nationalism comes the destruction of the land
from where thousands are uprooted, the land witnesses communal
violence, mass murder, death of innocent people and division
of the nation in the name of religion. In a similar context,
Shiva notes, “Maldevelopment is seen here as a process by
which human society marginalises the play of the feminine
principle in nature and in society. Ecological breakdown and
social inequality are intrinsically related to the dominant
development paradigm which puts man against nature and women”
(46). The extremist mode of boycotting British goods resulted
in great hardship for rural petty traders and peasants most of
them who were Muslims and low-caste Hindus. Tagore’s
construction of Chandranath Babu in the novel was based on the
figure of Ashwini Kumar Dutta of Bengal whose support for
rural development was strongly admired by him.
The eroticisation of the Nation with the lover becomes the
most disturbing aspect of the novel. Sandeep pulls lover and
motherland together; Bimala and the Country become one. As
Tanika Sarkar in her work notes, “The emotion that animates
both, and the emotion that they evoke, are clearly erotic…The
mother protects, the mistress leads to destruction” (35).
Though the novel is about politics which is about the devotion
to the Motherland and the call for ‘Bande Mataram’ which
signifies a salutation to the Motherland, there is no single
mother in the text nor is the real devotion towards any female
character visible. It is this ironic promise of development of
the nation through the means of loot, snatch, fake devotion
and force that the novel critiques. In a similar context,
Shiva comments, “…by the name of development, is a
maldevelopment process, a source of violence to women and
nature throughout the world. This violence does not arise from
the misapplication of an otherwise benign and gender-neutral
model but is rooted in the patriarchal assumptions of
homogeneity, domination and centralisation that underlie
dominant models of thought and development strategies” (44).
Therefore, by bringing the marginalised women to the
forefront, it is an attempt on the part of the novelist to
preserve the ‘Mother Land’ which requires love, care and
humanity and bring it back from the clutches of masculine
endeavours. Bimala’s return to her husband at the end of the
novel symbolises in a way the rootedness of the feminine
principle in the context of the nation and the development of
the land that entails through the process as Vandana Shiva in
her words notes, “Their voices are the voices of liberation
and transformation which provide new categories of thought and
new exploratory directions…experience shows that ecology and
feminism can combine in the recovery of the feminine
principle, and through this recovery, can intellectually and
politically restructure and transform maldevelopment” (45).
Works Cited
Arun, “The Noble Prize Acceptance Speech”. Literature
Worms, https://www.literatureworms.com/2012/06/nobel-prize-acceptance-speech-by-tagore.html#,
Accessed on 20 March 2023.
Basu, Sanjukta. “Gender, Sexuality and Nation- Tagore’s Ghaire
Baire (Home and the World). This is My Truth, 18 May
2020, https://sanjukta.wordpress.com/2020/05/18/gender-sexuality-and-nation-rabindranath-tagore-ghare-baire-home-and-the-world-ignou-assignments-mawgs/
Chakravarti, Uma. “Wifehood, widowhood and adultery: Female
sexuality, surveillance and the state in eighteenth century
Maharashtra”. Of Property and Propriety: The Role of
Gender and Class in Imperialism and Nationalism, The
University of Toronto Press, 2001.
Chatterjee, Partha. The Nation and Its Fragments: Colonial
and Postcolonial History. Princeton UP, 1993.
D, Dipanshi. “Tagore on Freedom and Critique of Nationalism”.
Academia, n.d.
https://www.academia.edu/35372378/Tagore_on_Freedom_and_Critique_of_Nationalism.
Gordon, Leonard. “Divided Bengal: Problems of Nationalism and
Identity in the 1947 Partition”. India’s Partition :
Process, Strategy and Mobilization, edited by Mushirul
Hasan, Oxford UP, 1993.
Mies, Maria and Vandana Shiva. Ecofeminism. Zed Books,
1993.
Peterson, V. Spike. “Gendered Nationalism: Reproducing Us
versus Them”. Peace Review: A Journal of Social Justice,
vol. 9, no.1, pp. 77-83.
Sarkar, Tanika. “Many Faces of Love, Country, Women and God in
The Home and the World”, The Home and the World: A
Critical Companion, edited by P.K. Dutta, Permanent
Black, 2003, pp. 27-44.
Shiva, Vandana. Staying Alive: Women, Ecology and Survival
in India. Indraprastha Press, 1988.
Sinha, Mrinalini. Colonial Masculinity: The ‘manly’
Englishman and the ‘effeminate Bengali’ in the late
nineteenth century. Manchester UP, 1995.
Tagore, Rabindranath. The Home and the World. Penguin
Classics, 2005.
Il leone
Marzocco fiorentino nella poesia politica e civile trecentesca
minore di area toscana, similitudini con il contesto indiano -
Marialaura Pancini
Il leone fin dall’antichità ha esercitato un certo fascino
nell’immaginario umano divenendo oggetto di una serie
innumerevole di similitudini, metafore e immagini simboliche
che attraversano le culture, le aree geografiche e le epoche.
Se si osserva il panorama della poesia politica e civile
trecentesca minore di area toscana si può vedere che il leone
come simbolo della città di Firenze è molto presente nel
repertorio tematico dei rimatori toscani, in particolare
fiorentini. Lo scopo di questa presentazione è quello, in
primo luogo, grazie all’utilizzo di testi concreti afferenti
al genere della poesia politica e civile trecentesca minore di
area toscana, di delineare quella che è la considerazione che
si ha del leone e la simbologia che è legata a questo animale
in questo contesto storico e geografico. In secondo luogo, si
evidenzieranno quelle che sono le similitudini tra l’immagine
del leone nel contesto toscano medievale fiorentino e la
simbologia che il contesto indiano attribuisce.
Appare a questo punto necessario premettere che si tratta di
una selezione di testi arbitraria, fatta sulla base del
criterio di eterogeneità, rappresentatività e ampiezza
dell’argomento, si è scelto, infatti, di dare maggiore
importanza ai testi nei quali si fa ampiamente riferimento al
leone Marzocco fiorentino. Per non essere troppo prolissi e
non allontanarsi troppo dal focus fiorentino della
presentazione e del convegno, si eviterà di citare tutti i
casi – anche se questi sono numerosi- di riferimenti brevi e
poco significativi al leone come metafore, frasi gnomiche etc.
che non hanno una vera e propria tematizzazione nel testo, ma
sono solamente costrutti fissi popolari.
Si esamineranno, quindi, una serie di casi concreti nei quali
si fa riferimento al leone come simbolo della città di Firenze
rappresentato attraverso il leone Marzocco.
Il sonetto Il lion di Firenze è migliorato viene scritto
in occasione dell’acquisto da parte di Firenze di Arezzo. Il
sonetto anonimo gioca con gli animali araldici presenti nei
gonfaloni delle città toscane e nasconde, dietro riferimenti a
prima vista zoologici, la narrazione delle vicende politiche
di quegli ultimi anni. La prima quartina, attraverso l’animale
simbolo di Firenze, il leone marzocco, ora «migliorato» v.1
dopo che «lungo tempo è stato in malattia» v.2, descrive i
trascorsi della città di Firenze. La città, dopo le sconfitte
subite dalla ghibellina Pisa di Uguccione della Faggiola
(1315) e dopo il periodo dell’infruttuosa signoria di Carlo,
Duca di Calabria (1325), a questa altezza cronologica riprende
la sua politica di espansione verso le zone limitrofe, Arezzo
è proprio una di queste . La quartina in questione esalta la
conquista della città di Arezzo, rappresentata attraverso il
«Cavallo sfrenato» elemento caratteristico del gonfalone
aretino , attraverso tale azione la città di Firenze vede
compiersi la sua signoria, il suo potere su Arezzo. Si allude
anche al compimento di una profezia «che Daniello aveva
profetizzato» v. 8 e che ora è «tutta adempiuta» v. 7. I
versi potrebbero riferirsi al libro di Daniele, nel quale
viene descritto un sogno, dove sono protagoniste quattro
bestie, la prima bestia ha figura leonina con ali d’aquila, la
seconda bestia figura di orsa, la terza di leopardo, la quarta
è una bestia senza un preciso referente reale, ha molte corna
e distrugge tutto ciò che trova. La quarta bestia viene
«uccisa e il suo corpo distrutto e gettato a bruciare sul
fuoco. Alle altre bestie fu tolto il potere e fu loro concesso
di prolungare la vita fino a un termine stabilito di tempo.» .
Secondo l’interpretazione, che segue nel libro, le quattro
bestie rappresentano quattro re che si succedono nel tempo,
nonostante le prime bestie rappresentate nel libro di Daniele,
il leone e l’orsa trovino corrispondenza con i versi resta
però piuttosto oscuro il collegamento tematico, non è quindi
certo il riferimento. Nella terzina che segue si fa
riferimento, attraverso i loro animali araldici, alle città
toscane rimaste a guardare il crescere della potenza
fiorentina. Siena viene rappresentata come una lupa ferita
«scorticata» v. 9 e Pistoia come un’«Orsa» v. 9,
entrambe colpite dalla «branca» v. 10 del leone
fiorentino, che si è appropriato della città di Arezzo, e ha
inoltre con questo gesto messo in fuga le altre bestie
ovvero ha fatto arretrare le altre città toscane dalle loro
posizioni espansionistiche e di potere nella zona, dimostrando
la propria forza leonina. Nell’ultima quartina torna il tema
della profezia di Daniello del v. 8, questa si avvererà se il
leone fiorentino continuerà a fare «borsa» delle pelli «cuoi»
v. 13 degli animali che rappresentano le città toscane, se
quindi la città di Firenze affermerà la propria egemonia sulla
Toscana. La cauda è un avvertimento, posto in forma
proverbiale, che suggerisce di stare attenti alle persone alle
quali si è avuto fretta di commettere torti, perché in breve
tempo queste presenteranno la loro vendetta . Questa
conclusione gnomica potrebbe essere indirizzata o alla stessa
città di Firenze, invitandola a rimanere vigile su una
possibile vendetta della città toscane, oppure potrebbe anche
essere riferita alla vendetta che i fiorentini hanno attuato,
dopo le sconfitte subite nei primi anni del secolo ad opera
dei baluardi ghibellini Uguccione della Faggiola e Castruccio
Castracani.
Proprio in seguito alla compera di Arezzo da parte di Firenze
del 1385 Antonio Pucci e Franco Sacchetti, autori fiorentini
molto attivi nella scena politica della loro città, si
scambiano una tenzone in commento alla vicenda. Il primo a
dare avvio alla corrispondenza è Antonio Pucci, che scrive e
indirizza a Franco Sacchetti il sonetto Il veltro e l’orsa e
‘l cavallo sfrenato . Il sonetto ricorda molto il testo
analizzato in precedenza Il lion di Firenze, dove i
riferimenti alle città toscane sono tutti espressi mediante
gli animali simbolo di queste. Nella prima quartina, Pucci
descrive la situazione di alleanza «parentado» v. 2 tra
Volterra: il veltro , l’orsa: Pistoia e il cavallo sfrenato,
ovvero Arezzo, e Firenze: il leone. Anche Il lion di Firenze
utilizza gli stessi riferimenti per Pistoia e Arezzo «l’Orsa»
v. 9 e «il Cavallo sfrenato» v. 4. Pucci conclude la quartina
ricordando Pisa: la volpe; il toro: Lucca; Siena: la lupa e il
grifone perugino alcune di queste città che menziona
sono poco turbate per l’accrescimento del potere fiorentino,
altre, invece, lo sono «molto» v. 4. La seconda quartina, si
incentra tutta su un riferimento ai tempi passati della guerra
tra Firenze e Pisa per la presa di Lucca del 1342. C’è infatti
un discorso diretto pronunciato dalla stessa volpe pisana che
rammenta la «tencione» v. 6 avuta con il leone fiorentino
perché «contra ragione» v. 7 Pisa «volea pigliar […] / il
toro» vv. 7-8. Il riferimento all’intrusione senza averne
diritto di Pisa nella compravendita di Lucca torna anche negli
altri testi di Pucci dove è trattata la vicenda. Seguono poi i
discorsi degli altri animali menzionati che rappresentano le
città: la lupa Siena, che esprime il suo dubbio per quanto
riguarda l’origine del suo cattivo rapporto con il leone
fiorentino. Il grifone di Perugia esprime invece la sua gioia
per essere da sempre «amico» v. 13 del leone fiorentino, il
rimando, come sottolinea anche Ageno , potrebbe verosimilmente
essere alla Guerra degli Otto Santi durante la quale Perugia
si ribella all’abate Géraud Dupuy, vicario papale
nell’amministrazione della città sottoposta al dominio
pontificio. Lo stesso Pucci descrive infatti dettagliatamente
la ribellione della città e la cacciata di Dupuy nel suo
Cantare della guerra degli Otto Santi, anche Franco Sacchetti
fa riferimento a Dupuy come il «porco monacese» v. 127 nella
sua canzone Hercole già di Libia ancor risplende. In
conclusione, Pucci si rivolge all’altro poeta e chiede il suo
parere sulla questione appena trattata.
Franco Sacchetti risponde per le rime alla sollecitazione
dell’amico ed esprime il proprio parere con Se quella leonina
ov’io son nato , riprendendo il sonetto di Pucci fa
riferimento a Firenze come «quella leonina» v. 1 dove lo
stesso autore è nato. La sua risposta è però molto critica nei
confronti dell’atteggiamento fiorentino. Sacchetti accusa,
infatti, Firenze di non essere governata in maniera tale da
poter garantire il benessere per i suoi cittadini, che
dall’altro lato si sono sempre dimostrati a lei fedeli.
Sacchetti accusa direttamente la città di non contraccambiare
i suoi concittadini dello stesso amore che questi le hanno
riversato in passato. Secondo l’autore è questa la ragione per
cui le altre città «ogni animale che hai narrato» v. 5 si
astengono dal sottomettersi alla città del giglio «verebbe
sotto al florido pennone» v. 6, per quanto riguarda l’utilizzo
dell’aggettivo florido, al di là del riferimento alla
prosperità ci potrebbe essere un rimando etimologico con il
nome di Firenze, questo aggettivo è utilizzato da Sacchetti
anche in altri contesti sempre riferendosi a Firenze . Nella
seconda quartina Sacchetti chiarisce ulteriormente il motivo
del suo risentimento nei confronti di Firenze: delle persone
disoneste e incivili «rei villani» v. 7 attraverso menzogne
«con falso sermone» v. 7 si stanno allontanando sempre più
dall’esempio morale dei celebri «Bruto, Scipïone e Cato» v. 8,
non è un caso che vengano citati tre autori romani, in questo
periodo cronologico è infatti diffusa l’esaltazione della
romanitas fiorentina, che trae base dalle origini fiesolane
della città e vede Firenze come nuova Roma . Le terzine
mostrano un crescendo della disperazione del poeta che rimanda
nella prima terzina al credo cattolico, «nessun conosce grazia
da Colui / ch’ognora in essa tiene la mente pia» vv. 10-11.
Questa coppia di versi appare speculare nella struttura ai vv.
1-4, in questa prima quartina Sacchetti accusa Firenze di
ingratitudine verso i cittadini che per lei si dimostrano
fedeli, allo stesso modo nei vv. 10-11 Sacchetti accusa con un
generico «nessun» v. 10 di non mostrare gratitudine verso
colui che costantemente «ognora» v. 11 tiene conto della
città: Dio. In questo caso è presente un rovesciamento con la
narrazione che lo stesso Sacchetti fa, circa un decennio
prima, (1375-1378) della città durante la guerra degli Otto
Santi, dove Firenze è sempre fedele al divino e ai suoi
precetti e assume il ruolo, intriso di senso biblico, di
pastore e guida delle città ribelli in fuga dagli
ecclesiastici erranti rispetto ai valori divini paragonati ai
Faraoni. Nell’ultima terzina torna, come nell’ultima quartina,
il riferimento al tradimento della romanitas fiorentina. Sono
infatti silenti e assenti personaggi come Cicerone, Curio e
Silla, citati per antonomasia, chi governa adesso, infatti non
vanta un’ascendenza nota. Ageno in proposito segnala un
possibile riferimento al tumulto dei Ciompi del 1378 e alle
nuove arti dei farsettai e dei tintori proclamate in
quell’occasione, ma dopo poco abolite . Il riferimento al
tradimento dei valori della romanitas è tematica centrale
della canzone di Bindo di Cione del Frate Quella virtù, che ‘l
terzo cielo infonde dove attraverso un sogno appare Roma nei
panni di donna anziana che si lamenta per lo stato nel quale
riversa adesso la sua discendenza. Oltre al riferimento
tematico nella canzone ricorrono, insieme a molti altri
exempla di virtù, anche i nomi di Bruto, Scipione e Catone,
menzionati da Sacchetti.
I versi conclusivi di Fiorenza mïa, poi che disfatt’hai ,
dello stesso Franco Sacchetti, fanno riferimento allo stesso
modo a Firenze attraverso il suo animale simbolo che ricorre
frequentemente nei testi presi in esame: il leone marzocco, al
quale la famiglia degli Ubaldini aveva per anni creato
problemi «dispettando» v. 47. Sacchetti gioca inoltre sul
significato figurato del verbo sommergere e sull’accostamento
del marzocco al golfo del Leone, per precisare la fine che
invece ha poi fatto la famiglia «dispettando il leone, / che
gli ha sommersi, e non nel mar Leone» vv. 47-48. La stanza
successiva prosegue, sulla scia dei versi precedenti, questo
gioco sulla parola leone riferendosi a «Castel Leone» v. 49
nome con il quale si identificava l’attuale Lévane , occupato
dagli Ubaldini dal dicembre 1372 al giugno 1373, che avevano
con disonestà «di furto avendol preso» v. 50 ai fiorentini.
Riprendendo il tema del v. 3 «superba» si giustifica tale
irriverenza come mossa dalla stessa superbia «tant'era su
montata lor superba» v. 51 della famiglia. I vv. 52-54 tornano
sul leone fiorentino, elogiandone la superiorità «mag[g]ior
leone» v. 52 e le azioni di conquista.
Altri casi, significativi, nei quali si fa riferimento a
Firenze tramite il leone sono il v. 39 di Deh, angeli ed
arcangeli con truoni di Antonio Pucci, dove il
riferimento alle città viene espresso attraverso gli animali
simbolici che li rappresentano il leone per Firenze, e la
volpe per Pisa.
Anche in O Signor mio ch’agli apostoli tuoi , Pucci conclude
fornendo le coordinate temporali della vicenda ai lettori
«Contato v’ho di fino a mezzo luglio / de l’anno sopradetto»
v. IV.32.1-2 e descrivendo - attraverso una metafora zoologica
che vede protagonisti gli animali simboli delle città toscane:
il leone per Firenze e la volpe per Pisa - la situazione
attuale, lasciando trapelare qualche anticipazione di quello
che seguirà. Il leone fiorentino e la volpe pisana si trovano
ora uno di fronte all’altro a trattare per una pace, i pisani
sono però come di consueto inclini all’inganno, i fiorentini
dal lato loro non sono per nulla sciocchi, verranno ingannati
solo a causa della loro lealtà.
Allo stesso modo anche il cantare O indivisa etterna
Ternitade dello stesso Pucci anticipa in chiusura quello
che seguirà nel cantare successivo della serie dei cantari
della Guerra di Pisa, Pucci alimenta le aspettative del
pubblico annunciando quello che avverrà «Or vi dirò s’ come di
ragione / seppe la volpe qui più che [‘l] leone» v. V.17. 7-8.
Il cantare successivo, di conseguenza, fa riferimento al
tradimento del leone fiorentino «la volpe a∙leon diè mala
strenna / ch’avendol’ quasi a la pace promosso / e leopardi
gli mandòne adosso» v. VI.12.6.
Interessante a proposito è anche il sonetto O Pisa, vituperio
delle genti di Filippo dei Bardi. L’autore si rivolge
alla stessa Pisa ricordandole che nemmeno Dio la salverà dalle
grinfie del leone fiorentino «E non ti val chiamar quell’alto
Teta» v. 4. Il leone viene rappresentato in tutta la sua
rabbia e maestosità che con i suoi attributi «denti» v. 5;
«artigli possenti» v. 7 è intento senza freno a spargere il
sangue pisano «che no si cheta / Perché abbia rossi gli
artigli possenti / Del sangue de’ tuoi fi’ con tanta pieta»
vv. 6-8.
La tenzone che vede coinvolti il lucchese Pietro de’
Faitinelli e un anonimo rimatore pisano è molto interessante
perché vede il confronto diretto tra due autori divisi in quel
momento dall’assedio. Lo scambio di sonetti risale infatti al
periodo che va dal 25 settembre 1341 e il 2 ottobre dello
stesso anno, periodo nel quale Firenze occupa la città di
Lucca non avendo ancora subìto la sconfitta di Monte san
Quirino e non avendo ancora lasciato Lucca in mano pisana .
Come nota Aldinucci , il sonetto di mano di Faitinelli,
Mugghiando va il Leon pel la foresta , ricorda il sonetto
analizzato Il lion di Firenze è migliorato, e si basa come
quest’ultimo sugli animali simbolo delle città toscane. La
città di Firenze, il leone , gioisce per la recente conquista
di Arezzo, il Cavallo disfrenato , e ha sotto di sé
anche Pistoia, l’orsa . Firenze aveva ottenuto, infatti Arezzo
nel 1336 come testimonia il sonetto Il lion di Firenze è
migliorato, anche la città di Pistoia è parte dal 1331 della
sfera di influenza fiorentina . Nei versi successivi, vv. 5-8,
entra in scena Lucca, la Pantera, dotata di un alito
ammaliatore che «presta» v. 5 questa sua peculiarità al
leone fiorentino permettendogli così di attrarre a sé i comuni
toscani . L’appoggio lucchese dei fiorentini si dimostra
vantaggioso anche in termini geopolitici, l’aver ottenuto
Lucca da Mastino della Scala permette a Firenze di
«accerchiare il territorio di Pisa da ogni parte» . Dopo
l’allusione al vantaggio che ottiene Firenze sui pisani ecco
che nei versi successivi anche la Lepre pisana fa la sua
comparsa nel testo, Pisa farà bene a stare attenta dal momento
che oltre alle città sopra citate anche Siena, la Lupa, si è
alleata con Firenze in prospettiva anti-pisana . La metafora
«il Leon e la Lupa odi ch’han fatto: / tes’han le reti e
vogliolla pigliare» vv. 10-11, usata per rappresentare le
trame che Firenze e Siena stanno mettendo in atto contro Pisa,
si allaccia alla rappresentazione delle città come animali e
tare origine dalla sfera della caccia , una metafora inerente
allo stesso ambito si trova anche nei sonetti Ceneda e Feltro
e ancor Monte Belluni e San Marco e ’l Doge. Per la Lepre
pisana non ci sarà scampo inutile fuggire come è solita fare
oppure riporre le speranze nella sorte, come viene espresso
attraverso l’utilizzo della metafora dei dadi , Firenze, il
Leone, e Siena, la Lupa, sono prossimi a distruggerla. Per
quanto riguarda il riferimento alla lepre come animale
erbivoro di scarso valore bellico, ma piuttosto incline alla
fuga e al rintanarsi si veda il sonetto Più lichisati siete
ch’ermellini di Folgore da San Gimignano uno tra gli
innumerevoli riferimenti alla Lepre pisana presenti nella
letteratura medievale .
A questo sonetto Faitinelli riceve risposta da un anonimo
rimatore pisano che gli indirizza Amico, guarda non sia mal di
testa . Il sonetto si configura come una risposta diretta al
lucchese e si basa sulla stessa cerchia lessicale . La prima
quartina riprende specularmente il tema del sonetto di
Faitinelli «ribaltandone ironicamente il significato»
sotto un’ottica pisana. Se il sonetto lucchese narrava di un
leone a testa alta per la felicità, qui si invita l’«amico» v.
1 ad assicurarsi che il leone non sia molestato dal mal di
testa, che gli fa alzare la testa, piuttosto che la felicità,
oppure che non sia uno dei consueti dolori, con una possibile
allusione alle divisioni interne alla città di Firenze . Il
pisano continua con la reinterpretazione del sonetto del
lucchese, non c’è motivo di essere allegri «come tu di’» v. 6,
dal momento che Lucca, la Pantera, si è dovuta sottomettere
alla città di Firenze non per sua volontà ma perché sottoposta
al volere del suo signore Mastino della Scala, perché
costretta ad ubbidire: «per mostrarsi ne l’ubidir presta» v.
8. La prima terzina approfondisce ulteriormente il tema
dell’acquisto di Lucca definito spregiativamente come
«baratto» v. 10, che si rivelerà come un dolore più che una
felicità per la Pantera lucchese. Per quanto riguarda il
Cavallo aretino, si invita l’amico a stare attento che questo
non si rivolti contro chi lo sprona arditamente, il pericolo
che rappresenta il cavallo sfrenato di schiena è
identificabile con quello che potrebbe essere il pericolo di
una rivolta contro i fiorentini ad Arezzo, circostanza che
effettivamente si verifica nel luglio 1341 ; in quegli anni
avviene proprio il tradimento di «quel da Pietramala»,
l’aretino Tarlato Tarlati, menzionato nella canzone di Antonio
Pucci O lucchesi v. XI.6, Arezzo dopo essersi dapprima alleata
con Firenze ordisce una congiura contro la stessa città del
giglio . Il v. 14 «talor di schiena» potrebbe alludere,
tra l’altro, alla posizione geografica di Arezzo nei confronti
di Firenze, che vista da Pisa appare in posizione posteriore
rispetto alla città gigliata. Gli ultimi versi elogiano la
Lepre pisana, questa volta è lei ad essere allegra, questa non
teme infatti le trame che stanno tessendo contro di lei «quei
falsi» v. 16 di Firenze il Leone, e Siena la Lupa. Anzi in
vigore delle sue qualità: l’arguzia, la forza e il senno «non
teme» v. 18 né Firenze, né le città che questa ha posto sotto
la sua ala: Siena e Pistoia.
Se si osserva il contesto indiano, il capitello di Sarnath,
emblema della Repubblica Indiana, rappresenta sull’abaco
quattro leoni addossati, la maestosità di questi leoni ricorda
da vicino il Marzocco fiorentino. In particolare, il pilastro
di Ashokan eretto a Sarnath è quello più iconico e celebrato
dei pilastri di Ashokan , esso è infatti raffigurato anche
nella banconota da una rupia indiana e sulla moneta da due
rupie e inoltre è divenuto l’emblema nazionale indiano.
L’aspetto che in questa sede ci interessa del pilastro è il
capitello nel quale sono raffigurati quattro leoni ognuno
posizionato in direzione dei quattro punti cardinali. I leoni
hanno la bocca aperta e ruggiscono, il leone nel contesto
indiano, oltre ad essere simbolo di regalità e potere, come
nel contesto occidentale e fiorentino, è anche simbolo di
Buddha stesso. Nella base del capitello sono scolpiti altri
animali: un cavallo, un toro, un leone e un elefante .
Come nel caso di Firenze, anche nel caso indiano del capitello
di Ashokan il leone diviene simbolo di fierezza e possenza nel
comando, ma allo stesso tempo viene associato ad altri
animali, sia nel caso del capitello che nei casi dei sonetti
presi in esame, come se sia nel contesto indiano, che in
quello fiorentino si volesse far riferimento al leone sì
simbolizzandolo e rendendolo un emblema di una città ma allo
stesso tempo senza estrapolarlo del tutto dal suo contesto
naturale nel quale si trova circondato da altri animali e
dalla natura.
Riferimenti bibliografici
Studi:
Gatti Luca, Il mito di Marte a Firenze e la «pietra scema».
Memorie riti, e ascendenze, in «Rinascimento», XXXV (1995),
pp. 201-230.
Shelby Karen, "Lion Capital, Ashokan Pillar at Sarnath", in
Smarthistory, 9 agosto 2015, accesso 3 aprile 2023,
https://smarthistory.org/lion-capital-ashokan-pillar-at-sarnath/.
Morpurgo Salomone, Dieci sonetti storici fiorentini, Firenze,
Carnesecchi, 1893.
Edizioni critiche di autori:
ANTONIO PUCCI, Cantari della Guerra di Pisa = ANTONIO PUCCI, Cantari
della Guerra di Pisa, edizione critica, a cura di, M.
Bendinelli Predelli, Firenze, Società Editrice Fiorentina,
2017.
FRANCO SACCHETTI = FRANCO SACCHETTI, Il libro delle rime,
a cura di F. Brambilla Ageno, Firenze-Melbourne,
Olschki-University of Australia Press, 1989 (A.); FRANCO
SACCHETTI, Il libro delle rime con le lettere; La battaglia
delle belle donne, a cura di D. Puccini, Torino, UTET, 2007,
(P.).
PIETRO DE’ FAITINELLI = PIETRO DE’ FAITINELLI, Rime, a
cura di B. Aldinucci, Firenze, Accademia della Crusca, 2016.
Strumenti di consultazione:
DBI = Dizionario Biografico degli Italiani,
Roma, Istituto della Enciclopedia Italiana, 1960-.
Libro di Daniele = Testo a cura della Conferenza
Episcopale Italiana,
https://www.vatican.va/archive/index_it.htm
TLIO = Tesoro della Lingua Italiana delle Origini,
fondato da Pietro G. Beltrami e diretto da P. Squillacioti
presso CNR-Opera del Vocabolario Italiano,
http://tlio.ovi.cnr.it/TLIO/
Toscana Giunta Regionale, 1995 = Toscana Giunta Regionale, La
Toscana e i suoi comuni, storia, territorio, popolazione,
stemmi e gonfaloni delle libere comunità toscane,
Venezia, Marsilio, 1995.
Website
http://www.sarnathmuseumasi.org/gallery/Gallery3%20Acc%20No%20355.html
Restoration by India's Diaspora, the Roma - Daniel-Claudiu Dumitrescu
Paper
read at the Annual Conference of the Collegium
Mediterraneanistrarum, 12 June 2022
Obelisk-shaped tombstones, which are quite common in
modern Western cemeteries, have been considered a product
of the so-called ‘Egyptian Revival’, a fad in Egyptian
design that arose from the development of Egyptian studies
after Napoleon’s Egyptian Campaign (1789-1799). The
establishment of modern cemeteries outside churches is
also said to date from the 19th century. In
India, however, the British had formed cemeteries long
before that, and many obelisk-shaped tombstones can be
found there. In other words, it is highly likely that
obelisk tombstones appeared in India before the Egyptian
Campaign, from some other causes. In this paper we will
first verify this by examining the existing tombstones in
the British cemeteries in India. It will then attempt a
small ‘world history of tombstones’ by looking back in
time to see how obelisks and their designs were used
before the 18th century, and when, where and
how they were associated with memorials for the dead.
In
India we will first look at the South Park Street Cemetery
in Calcutta (now Kolkata), a cemetery founded in 1767.
There we can see many obelisk-shaped headstones, but we
have to examine how many of them were actually erected
before the impact of the Egyptian Campaign. The author
studied the shapes of the tombstones of those who passed
away until 1805. That survey revealed that of the 185
surviving tombstones in this era, 27 were clearly
obelisk-shaped, and a total of 44 were identified where
slightly thicker or more pyramid-like ones were added.
From this it can be pointed out that a new modern
expression concerning memorials may have been established
in India prior to the European mainland. But, to confirm
this, it is also necessary to review how obelisks had been
associated with memorials before the 18th
century. The diffusion of obelisks and their designs in
the West began when a number of obelisks brought from
Egypt to Rome in ancient times were later revived in the
16th-17th centuries. Seeing the
development of obelisks and their designs from antiquity,
especially from the 16th-17th
centuries onwards, we can find some usages for memorial
expressions. But, as far as the author knows, they were
not free-standing obelisk-shaped tombstones, the theme of
this paper, but just decorative parts or flat reliefs. The
author believes that the widespread use of freestanding
obelisk-shaped tombstones occurred in India prior to those
in Europe.
Why, then, did tombstones with this Egyptian design appear
in India before Egyptology was established? The first
thing to be noted is the link between Indian funeral
architecture and the British cemetery at Surat and the
British playwright and architect John Vanbrugh. There were
some architects involved in the construction of several
obelisks and pyramid-like structures in 18th
century Britain, in towns and country houses, and, at the
centre of their architects we can find John Vanbrugh.
Interestingly, the source of his imagery was the English
cemetery he had seen in Surat when he was still a young
man. In 1711, Vanbrugh presented a proposal for a cemetery
consisting of ‘Lofty and Noble Mausoleums,’ modelled on
the English Cemetery he had seen at Surat a quarter of a
century earlier, in which obelisks and pyramid-shaped
headstone can be found in the sketches. The British and
Dutch cemeteries in Surat today do in fact have several
obelisk-shaped tombstones, may of which cannot be dated,
but some can definitely be identified as dating back to
the 17th century. The cemetery’s unique
memorial expression shows the influence of Islamic
mausoleum architecture, which flourished in India from
around the 14th century, and the Hindu princely
cenotaphs (chhatris) that were established around
Rajasthan under its influence. The Surat cemetery, with
its mixture of these diverse tomb buildings and designs of
European origin, influenced 18th century
British architecture through Vanbrugh.
The next point of interest is the possible confusion and
overlap between the imagery of obelisks and other ancient
architecture. Before the establishment of Egyptology,
there should have bee no basis for linking obelisks with
the concepts of death and rebirth, but we can actually
find a certain link between obelisks and consolatory
images. One of the reasons seems to be the confusion
between the images of the obelisks and the pyramids. The
18th century British Massacre Cenotaph at Patna
is also sometimes referred to as an “obelisk”, but it is
clearly modelled on a Roman memorial column.
Interestingly, the famous Trajan’s Memorial Colum is also
a kind of tomb, as it has his remains on the base part.
The Mausoleum of Maussollos at Helicarnassus has also
often been depicted as resembling an obelisk or pyramid,
although its actual shape is unknown. This and other
representations of the so-called Seven Wonders of the
World and capriccios of the 17th-18th
centuries suggest that a diverse range of ancient
architectural images related in memorials and obelisks
have developed in an overlapping and mixed manner.
Thus, it is assumed that the obelisk tombstone form was
established and developed in India as the history of
complex images of obelisks and the Indian culture of
funeral architecture intersected. The background to this
may have been the need for new burial sites and new
expressions of memorialization due to the high mortality
rate of westerners in India and the lack of churches and
cemeteries, but there are many other issues to be further
interrogated, including the wider influence of Indian
architecture and technology. This cultural phenomenon is
difficult to grasp in a binary British/Indian, West/East,
dominant/dominated structure, and it will be essential to
gain knowledge across disciplines and regions to elucidate
it. The author hopes for guidance from various
researchers.
The original paper was written and read in Japanese.
Feminist
Gandhi - Julia Bolton Holloway
Mahatma Gandhi brought a new dimension into our lives. When he spoke of nonviolence, he meant not merely the avoidance of violent action but cleansing our hearts of hatred and bittereness. He unveiled the spiritual political power of illiterate and humble have-nots and pointed out that the only programmes worth preaching were those which could be translated into action. He said that every decision and programme should be judged from the viewpoint of the poorest and the weakest.Indira Gandhi
The reader might well rebel at this paper's title. Gandhi is seen as a 'male chauvinist'. However, there are aspects to Gandhi's life and thought that can be related to feminism. This paper discusses three aspects of Gandhi - Gandhi and Patriarchy, Gandhi and Women, Gandhi and the Bomb, all of which are related to each other. It will not be academic but instead, to a large extent, in Gandhi's own manner, an experiment with truth.
Gandhi and Patriarchy
My
best avenue to this topic is to discuss the relationship
of a father, a daughter and Gandhi. My father was an
Englishman in India and a friend of Gandhi. My father and
Gandhi were both journalists, so once they both wrote up
interviews of each other, my father's serious one on
Gandhi in The Times of India, Gandhi's joking one
in Young India about blue-eyed, fair-haired
Glorney Bolton. My father was with Gandhi on the Salt
March to Dandi in March 1930. There was a British
Broadcasting Corporation recording of many
voices, 'Talking of Gandhiji', my father's voice being one
of these, now lost. Though the book made from it exists.
This is what my father said on that broadcast of the event
where Gandhi illegally and very simply gathered salt from
the sea:
And there was Gandhi, walking along, with his friends round him, it was a sort of terrific anticlimax. There was no cheering, no great shouts of delight, and no sort of stately procession at all, it was all . . . in a sense rather farcical. However this great march had begun . . . here he was, quite happy, with people round him, on the whole very quiet, but now and again you heard Gandhi . . . break out with that wonderful boyish laughter of his. He didn't know how the march was going to end, but nonetheless, there I was, seeing history happen in a strange sort of . . . way; something completely un-European and yet very, very moving.That act was to end Britain's dominion of India. Such a simple act - yet far more powerful than any act of violent terrorism, than any use of any bomb. But it needs an explanation. Britain imposed a monopoly upon salt in India. She did so because Rome had likewise imposed such a monopoly upon all the lands that lay under the yoke of her vast Empire. From it comes the word 'salary' that we use today. Salt was made into a currency, the state controlling a substance essential to life. However, such a monopoly was not the practice in Britain. Its imposition upon India was an unjust, patriarchal, imperial act and Gandhi, who had studied law in England, knew this. Our American version of this simple gathering of salt from the sea was Rosa Parks, because of her tired feet, refusing her seat to a white man on an Alabama bus - an act which changed us from a racist nation to one with a dream of equality partly realized, though we have further to go.
I grew up with the knowledge of Gandhi all about me as a girl in England, knowing my father was his friend and had written his biography, The Tragedy of Gandhi, published in 1934 when it seemed that Gandhi had failed. I remember listening with great intensity to the Declaration of India's Independence by Earl Mountbatten and Jawaharlal Nehru on the radio when I was ten years old. But now, when I read my father's biography of Gandhi, two things make me rebel against that Englishman's perspective. My father wrote that he despised Gandhi's 'feminine masochism' (partly alluding to his use of 'anorexia') and he also criticized Gandhi's espousal of poverty. My father was a widow's son, had known comparative poverty, and had struggled against it to acquire an education at Oxford, failing to obtain his degree. He desperately wanted to succeed in journalism and politics. However, Gandhi really did succeed - but by insisting on getting rid of status and rank and caste - knowing that there was only so much to go round and that it must be shared, that one man's wealth causes another's poverty. Willy Brandt in the report North/South, likewise voices this in connection with war.
While hunger rules, peace cannot prevail. He who wants to ban war must also ban poverty. It makes no difference whether a human being is killed in war or starves to death because of the indifference of others.My father was then ambitious for wealth and fame and therefore Gandhi's ideas clashed with his own. But many years later he was to write a biography of Pope John XXIII, Living Peter, a biography which praises rather than blames a similar man. Gandhi, it can be seen, successfully educated his adversaries.
A colonial power must lie to itself. Gandhi stripped those lies away, using justice to unveil injustice, using law to demonstrate the lawlessness of British dominion. And to do so he turned to women.
Gandhi and Women
Margaret Bourke-White who photographed this immediately before Gandhi was assassinated
India had once been a great textile-producing nation. Our America calico cloth's name means that it once was produced at Calicut, in Madras, in India, and then exported to England and her colonies. But the English in the nineteenth century, to protect their own textile industries, forbade India to continue hers. Indians who had once exported textiles now had to import them from Lancashire. Gandhi saw one way of breaking British dominion over India as becoming self-sufficient in textile production. So he turned to village and cottage crafts, his womenfolk and he himself spinning and weaving khaddar cloth, homespun cloth. Santha Rama Rau, in her autobiography, Home to India, discussed the boycott and women's central participation in it. It is difficult for western, male culture to realize the full political importance of cloth. We are more involved with text than with textile. Yet to look at classical literature is to find that weaving by women was as important as tale-telling, history writing, by men, the two becoming interwoven in each other. In Guatemala today, the women express the tale of their oppression through embroidered pictures, which cannot be censored in the same way as can the written word.
It
seems that every liberation movement needs the feminine as
well as the masculine, the women far more clearly
symbolizing the transition from bondage to freedom than
does the man. Gandhi wilfully took on that woman's role,
using that symbolism. His revolution against the mother
country was not with male weapons of destruction but with
female tools of production. His male sword was a female
spinning wheel, the charka, the wheel of life, the
emblem today upon the flag of India - and upon that of the
Rom.
I find the spinning wheel admirable, not despicable. Here I and my father would part ways.
Gandhi and the Bomb
Margaret
Bourke-White, the American Time/Life photographer
who was with Gandhi just before he was shot, disagreed
with his feminine principles. Paradoxically she wanted
masculine solutions. As did my father, she saw the answer
to India's poverty in westernization, industrialization,
and high technology. Gandhi countered her by quietly
spinning cloth as she photographed him. In her
autobiography, Portrait of Myself, she reported
Gandhi's final conversation. It was about the nuclear
bomb.
As we sat there in the thin winter sunlight, he spinning and I jotting down his words, neither of us could know that this was to be perhaps his very last message to the world . . . Gandhi began to probe at the dreadful problem which has overwhelmed us all. I asked Gandhi how he would meet the atom bomb. Would he meet it with nonviolence? 'Ah', he said. 'How should I answer that? I would meet it by prayerful action.' I asked what form that action would take. 'I will not go underground. I will not go into shelters. I will go out and face the pilot so he will see I have not the face of evil against him.' He turned back to his spinning . . . I rose to leave, and folded my hands together in the gesture of farewell which Hindus use. But Gandhiji held out his hand to me and shook hands cordially in Western fashion.That gesture, incidentally, shows that one does not hold a sword. Gandhi then went to prayer and was shot. The man had given the woman's response, to spin, to provide clothing for future generations. The woman has been led to the ultimate technological development, the masculine weapon that could annihilate the future.
I do not know why this conversation was left out of the film, Gandhi, except to say that three years ago it was still not fashionable to fear the bomb. It was taboo, something deeply repressed. Today we are openly, consciously examining that issue. Gandhi can help us toward a solution. He would have us disarm. He would feminize the world. There are more tons of explosive power per child, woman and man in the world than there is food. Gandhi would say that preparation for war in order to prevent war is folly. Einstein did say that. It is time for a revolution for peace. Gandhi taught us how to have a revolution with tools that build a future, rather than with weapons that annihilate the past, the present and the future. To learn how to use these tools, Gandhi himself was willing to be taught by women. Weapons exist to enforce the power of one nation, race, sex, creed or caste over another's. Theirs is only a negative, destructive power. But in a world where the primary concerns are shelter, food, and clothing for all, regardless of these superficial distinctions, weapons become unnecessary. Gandhi, in turning to the untouchables and the women, turned Hinduism upside-down and he turned the world the right way round.
Originally
given as a paper, then published, in 1984, was awarded the
'Art of Peace' prize. The BBC broadcast is now lost, but
the book published from it survives.
Gandhi's
possessions at his death, his glasses, his sandals, etc.
Prega, rifletti e poi fai:
questa
regola (di Gandhi) ottenne l'independenza dell'India/
Pray, reflect, and then act:
This rule (from Gandhi) won India's indepedence
Arjun Shivaji Jain received a Master of Science in
Physics from the Indian Institute of Technology in
Roorkee, Uttarakhand in 2014, and a Post Graduate
Certificate in Art and Science from Central Saint
Martins of the University of the Arts in London in 2016.
Recipient of multiple scholarships and fellowships
instituted by the Department of Science, Govt. of India,
and having worked at the Indian Institute of Technology
and National Science Academy in Delhi, and the National
University of Singapore, he has assumed various
disparate roles over the years (including, but not
limited to, waiting tables, invigilating galleries,
housekeeping, gardening, felling trees, & teaching).
Self-published and well-travelled, he is serving at
present as the first Young Companions' Representative of
the Guild of St George, UK, whilst working, in a
personal capacity, as a visual artist. He is proprietor
of the John Ruskin Manufactory, and director at Red
House, here in Delhi where he currently resides.
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