The other Manto

Kuhu Tanvir reviews a new collection of the celebrated Urdu writer’s short stories, but feels the attempt to unveil a gentler Manto doesn’t give the full picture.

It is entirely possible that Manto sent out his epitaph in the world a year before his death anticipating that everyone would have no choice but to pay heed. And here we are, complying with his wish. He wrote, “Here Saadat Hasan Manto lies buried — and buried in his breast are all the secrets of the art of story telling. Even now, lying under tons of earth, he is wondering whether he or God is the greatest story teller.”

 

Born in 1912, Saadat Hasan Manto started writing in his early twenties but it was around the time of Partition that he came to be known as one of the leading short story writers of the subcontinent. Though he was a contemporary and close friend of the controversial but popular Ismat Chughtai, the two had little in common. A look at his epitaph, written in 1954, gives a sense not only of the cynicism that dominated his later years, but also of the subversiveness of his thought and style of writing.

This latest addition to the vast array of Manto anthologies is titled Naked Voices, translated and edited by Rakhshanda Jalil. In a lucid introduction to the book, Jalil says, “There is far more to Manto, I believe, than “Toba Tek Singh”, “Khol Do” or “Kali Shalwar”. While these stories have been most anthologized and are therefore most well-known, they are by no means representative of Manto’s writings.”

That is debatable, for many reasons; one, it is important to remember that Manto started writing original stories, with any degree of seriousness or regularity, only in the mid- to late-thirties. He did Urdu translations of Hugo, Wilde et cetera, then wrote critical articles for magazines and by 1936 for the Bombay film industry. By the mid-forties, the political environment and personal poverty had changed him a great deal and that is reflected in the stories from that time — a sense of the impossibility of escape is deeply embedded in them and they are most unforgiving in spirit. Monstrosity, filth and nakedness overwhelmed his soul and his writing.

Yes, Manto also responded to the goodness of human beings, but anyone who has read enough to compare will know that those stories aren’t a patch on his later works. He became sharper, more concise, biting, and in the process much more moving. So while “Toba Tek Singh” may not capture the essence of Manto, by itself, neither does Naked Voices. It serves very well as an alternative collection of Manto’s work, fit for those who have already read “Jelly”, “Mishtake”, “Thanda Gosht”, and are now looking for Manto beyond the pessimism.

There was need for a larger collection of Manto’s writings, one that did justice to his body of work and went beyond the few celebrated ones, but it seems Naked Voices will lose out to Khalid Hasan’s more inclusive anthology of Manto which hit the market around the same time.

A lot has been said about Manto’s obsession with prostitutes; Chughtai teased him about it, his wife Safiya chided him from time to time, and the crown slapped obscenity charges on him. Naked Voices doesn’t have any of the “obscene” stories, but through its emphasis on portraits of women, it gives space to Manto’s deliberation on, or rather, his frustration with the condition of women, particularly at the time of Partition.

Mothers, daughters, sisters and wives populate a good deal of this collection, nudging us to realise that their fate isn’t much better than that of prostitutes. The collapse of the world as Manto knew it was not a collapse of a male world alone, and it is this unique aspect of his persona that comes through in this collection.

Jalil’s translation goes in favour of this collection. While English can never capture the tone and effect of Manto’s colourful language, Jalil’s translation stands out for its relatively easy flow, and an intuitive sense of how much Hindustani to bring in to retain at least some flavour. “The Maker of Martyrs” works as a case in point where Jalil’s translation successfully conveys the ironic approach of the story. The other example could be “Coward”, which clearly sprung from a mixed bag of impulses, each of which is preserved in the translation.

There is, however, a sad lack of detailing in this book. There are no original titles or dates given for any story, and nowhere is it mentioned what collection a story originally appeared in. Manto was a disturbed person, and his demons often got the better of him — leading even to a stay in a mental asylum for a while — and his psychological development, if that word can be used, may be traced to an extent through his changing content and style. Naked Voices shies away from such a study.

Anyone who makes his Manto debut with this collection will wonder about the epitaph. Most likely, he’ll think Manto a talented, but ultimately, an arrogant, self-important fool. And while it won’t be his fault, he’ll be wrong. n

NAKED VIOCES Stories & Sketches
Author: Saadat Hasan Manto
Publisher: IndiaInk
Price: Rs 295
Pages: xvi+141