Thursday 25 April 2024

Why Foucault was wrong on Borges

 Few authors have enriched my life as much as Borges. Yet, I first came to him through Foucault- a writer who has destroyed the brains of more Indian intellectuals than I've had hot dinners (I tend to have three dinners every night but am content with two luncheons provided I had four breakfasts).

This is the foreword to Fuckall's 'Order of Things'

This book first arose out of a passage in Borges, out of the laughter that shattered, as I read the passage, all the familiar landmarks of my thought—our thought, the thought that bears the stamp of our age and our geography—breaking up all the ordered surfaces and all the planes with which we are accustomed to tame the wild profusion of existing things, and continuing long afterwards to disturb and threaten with collapse our age-old distinction between the Same and the Other.

This is quite a claim. Can Fuckall justify it?  

This passage quotes a “certain Chinese encyclopedia” in which it is written that “animals are divided into: (a) belonging to the Emperor, (b) embalmed, (c) tame, (d) sucking pigs, (e) sirens, (f) fabulous, (g) stray dogs, (h) included in the present classification, (i) frenzied, (j) innumerable, (k) drawn with a very fine camelhair brush, (1) et cetera, (m) having just broken the water pitcher, (n) that from a long way off look like flies.”

I suppose what Fuckall means is that Westerners expect to see animals divided by genera and species. However, it is clear that animals may have predicates which are not based on a biological structural causal model. It may be that the Chinese language has ideographs for animals which have these recondite associations or etymologies.  

In the wonderment of this taxonomy, the thing we apprehend in one great leap, the thing that, by means of the fable, is demonstrated as the exotic charm of another system of thought, is the limitation of our own, the stark impossibility of thinking that.

This is not the case. The Chinese have an ancient literary culture. It may be that different ideographs, though treated as synonyms, have recondite allusions known to the cognoscenti.  Borges was a careful writer. He knew that ordinary readers are aware that Chinese written language contains thousands of ideographs each of which might have a canonical commentary or learned association.  

But what is it impossible to think, and what kind of impossibility are we faced with here?

Nothing. We understand that synonyms in our own language may have diverse origins and might originally have had highly context dependent meanings.  

Each of these strange categories can be assigned a precise meaning and a demonstrable content; some of them do certainly involve fantastic entities— fabulous animals or sirens—

nothing wrong with 'Meinongian objects' which we can name but can't locate.  

but, precisely because it puts them into categories of their own, the Chinese encyclopedia localizes their powers of contagion;

They have no such power. If we classify animals as either vertebrates or invertebrates, no 'contagion' occurs. It isn't the case that I actually turn into a worm when I read about animals which don't have a spinal cord.  

it distinguishes carefully between the very real animals (those that are frenzied or have just broken the water pitcher) and those that reside solely in the realm of imagination.

No. The least marked reading of Borges, is that an ideograph for 'animal' may have first been found in a particular canonical work. The cognoscenti would be aware of this. If you want to pass the Civil Service exams, this is the sort of punditry you should display.  

The possibility of dangerous mixtures has been exorcized,

No. A guy might fuck a goat and the goat may have a baby which becomes a Professor of Foucauldian shite by successfully eating that nutter's collected works.  

heraldry and fable have been relegated to their own exalted peaks: no inconceivable amphibious maidens, no clawed wings, no disgusting, squamous epidermis, none of those polymorphous and demoniacal faces, no creatures breathing fire.

Nonsense! By saying 'fabulous creatures' all those bases have been covered.  

The quality of monstrosity here does not affect any real body, nor does it produce modifications of any kind in the bestiary of the imagination;

Surely, the reverse is the case? I am thinking of the fish which inhabits the depths of the Borgesian looking glass. Might it not be the hybrid offspring of an intellectual Frog beating off to his own image in the mirroir sans tain of its own mise en abyme

it does not lurk in the depths of any strange power. It would not even be present at all in this classification had it not insinuated itself into the empty space, the interstitial blanks separating all these entities from one another.

but only in the sense that the mirror-fish has insinuated itself into this Frog's asshole.  

It is not the “fabulous” animals that are impossible,

we don't know if they are incompossible 

since they are designated as such, but the narrowness of the distance separating them from (and juxtaposing them to) the stray dogs, or the animals that from a long way off look like flies.

It may be that words we use interchangeably have different origins or associations. Animal suggests 'having breath' but having 'life breath' can also mean 'possessed of a soul'. Creature suggests something living created by God.  Beast displaced Old English deor but carries with it the sense of something monstrous or uncanny- e.g. a werewolf or a mermaid. I suppose an erudite wordsmith might pay attention to these different shades of meaning. 

What transgresses the boundaries of all imagination, of all possible thought, is simply that alphabetical series (a, b, c, Foucault, Preface – 2 d) which links each of those categories to all the others.

Nonsense! It is merely conventional. It may be that there is a chronological element to this ordering or else that it follows the principle of quoting the most attested or popular first.  However, the impression we receive is that it is arbitrary. By about the time Fuckall published this, Category Theory was coming to accept that 'naturality' was far to seek. This is like Watanabe's 'ugly duckling theorem'. Classification isn't possible without some sort of bias or arbitrariness. 

Moreover, it is not simply the oddity of unusual juxtapositions that we are faced with here.

We expect Chinese literary culture to be different from ours. It is possible that a particular ideogram for 'animal' first appeared in, or is most famously associated with, a discussion of what we would call Russell's paradox. 

We are all familiar with the disconcerting effect of the proximity of extremes,

Not really. Merisms like 'high and low' or 'far and wide' aren't disconcerting at all.  

or, quite simply, with the sudden vicinity of things that have no relation to each other;

we guess at the relation easily enough unless we want to write stupid shite.  

the mere act of enumeration that heaps them all together has a power of enchantment all its own:

We understand that 'enumeratio' is a rhetorical device which aims at amplification.  

“I am no longer hungry,” Eusthenes said. “Until the morrow, safe from my saliva all the following shall be: Aspics, Acalephs, Acanthocephalates, Amoebocytes, Ammonites, Axolotls, Amblystomas, Aphislions, Anacondas, Ascarids, Amphisbaenas, Angleworms, Amphipods, Anaerobes, Annelids, Anthozoans … .”

in other words, the guy doesn't want to eat anything at all.  

But all these worms and snakes,

aspics are a type of jelly made from meat broth  

all these creatures redolent of decay and slime are slithering, like the syllables which designate them, in Eusthenes’ saliva: that is where they all have their common locus, like the umbrella and the sewing-machine on the operating table; startling though their propinquity may be, it is nevertheless warranted by that and by that in, by that on whose solidity provides proof of the possibility of juxtaposition. It was certainly improbable that arachnids, ammonites, and annelids should one day mingle on Eusthenes’ tongue, but, after all, that welcoming and voracious mouth certainly provided them with a feasible lodging, a roof under which to coexist.

There is a genera of insect termed Eusthenes. I don't suppose insects are picky eaters.  

The monstrous quality that runs through Borges’s enumeration consists, on the contrary, in the fact that the common ground on which such meetings are possible has itself been destroyed.

No. We know that the Chinese have lots of ideograms- 50,000 on the last count- and that scholars might be interested in the different associations of different characters which signify 'animal'.  

What is impossible is not the propinquity of the things listed, but the very site on which their propinquity would be possible.

Chinese written language exists. What Borges has written sounds plausible to those of us who don't know it.

The animals “(i) frenzied, (j) innumerable, (k) drawn with a very fine camelhair brush”—where could they ever meet, except in the immaterial sound of the voice pronouncing their enumeration, or on the page transcribing it?

Fuckall didn't know that Chinese characters are ideographic and have 'canonical' associations appreciated by the cognoscenti. We can imagine a Mandarin getting into trouble for using a character which has some impious or inauspicious overtone.  

… When we establish a considered classification, when we say that a cat and a dog resemble each other less than two greyhounds do, even if both are tame or embalmed, even if both are frenzied, even if both have just broken the water pitcher, what is the ground on which we are able to establish the validity of this classification with complete certainty?

We ask a Professor of Chinese. He points out all the reasons why what Borges has written is ignorant and prejudiced and complicit in 'colonial epistemology' and the fact that dicks still exist even though dicks cause RAPE.  

On what “table,” according to what grid of identities, similitudes, analogies, have we become accustomed to sort out so many different and similar things?

The 'table' is that of a Chinese encyclopedia. We have some hazy notion that you had to learn a lot of ideograms and then write an 'eight-legged essay' in order to become a Civil Servant in ancient China.  

What is this coherence—which, as is immediately apparent, is neither determined by an a priori and necessary concatenation, nor imposed on us by immediately perceptible contents?

It is the coherence of Chinese literary culture which we know is more ancient and recondite than our own.  

For it is not a question of linking consequences, but of grouping and isolating, of analyzing, of matching and pigeon-holing concrete contents; there is nothing more tentative, nothing more empirical (superficially, at least) than the process of establishing an order among  things;

That is done in a pragmatic manner. Biology may 'order' animals in one way. A Chinese literary encyclopedia may use a different method. Pragmatism supplies the answer for which Fuckall searches in vain.  

nothing that demands a sharper eye or a surer, better-articulated language; nothing that more insistently requires that one allow oneself to be carried along by the proliferation of qualities and forms.

Sadly, there is no non-arbitrary way of ordering things. One may say, utilitarian considerations aren't arbitrary. But why should my utility matter more than that of an imaginary mirror-fish? The answer is that there is an arbitrary 'uncorrelated asymmetry' which dictates a 'bourgeois strategy'. I am a fat human cunt. I am not an imaginary mirror-fish. I do what is in my own interest.  

And yet an eye not consciously prepared might well group together certain similar figures and distinguish between others on the basis of such and such a difference: in fact, there is no similitude and no distinction, even for the wholly untrained perception, that is not the result of a precise operation and of the application of a preliminary criterion.

That operation or criterion is arbitrary. It has a bias. It lacks 'naturality' unless there is an objective function to be optimized. But that function is still being optimized for some arbitrary subject.  

A “system of elements”—a definition of the segments by which the resemblances and differences can be shown, the types of variation by which those segments can be affected, and, lastly, the threshold above which there is a difference and below which there is a similitude—is indispensable for the establishment of even the simplest form of order.

No. A partial ordering is either useful or it isn't. Pragmatism gets you to focus on making useful distinctions instead of trying to shit higher than your arsehole.  

Order is, at one and the same time, that which is given in things as their inner law,

No. Some silly peeps may have thought so but by the time Fuckall wrote this shite, Math had showed otherwise. What is remarkable of Borges is that he moved in the same direction as Frank Ramsey (or the Tarski who rediscovered C.S Pierce) at about the same time. Perhaps it was inevitable that one steeped in American literature would give up Krausism for Pragmatism. Or maybe the thing was always there in the Math. I don't know. I'm as stupid as shit.  

the hidden network that determines the way they confront one another,

not to mention the way they sodomize each other  

and also that which has no existence except in the grid created by a glance, an examination, a language;

We don't know that. It frequently happens that things we consider to be merely virtual or 'useful fictions' actually exist. The reverse is also the case. Do chains with the strong Markov property actually exist? I don't know. If they do, surely time irreversibility obtains? We need a new physics- maybe constructor theory or something like it.  When I say 'we', obviously, I mean 'smart peeps'. What I need is gastric band surgery. 

and it is only in the blank spaces of this grid that order manifests itself in depth as though already there, waiting in silence for the moment of its expression.

why must it wait in silence? Let it read out its poetry to others of its ilk before they start getting gay with each other.  

The fundamental codes of a culture

don't exist save by arbitrary stipulation 

—those governing its language, its schemas of perception, its exchanges, its techniques, its values, the hierarchy of its practices—establish for every man, from the very first, the empirical orders with which he will be dealing and within which he will be at home. …

Rubbish! If this were true, changing some 'fundamental code'- e.g. changing the rules of grammar such that everything is a verb- would cause dicks to disappear. This will save the Environment which is being incessantly RAPED by Neo-Liberalism. Mind it kindly. Aiyayo.  

Rachel Dwyer on Satyajit Ray

Satyajit Ray had the three hall-marks of genius

1) he was intensely productive and individualistic. He was a true auteur who, as he gained in confidence, took over almost every aspect of film-making. Indeed, he was smart enough to make himself relatively independent of the financiers and distributors. 

2) Ray set limitations on himself the better to develop his strengths. Thus he wouldn't have 'playback singers' or 'item numbers etc. Also, he refused to go in front of the camera precisely because he was so handsome and physically imposing. One may say, by scrupulously observing the limitations he had placed on himself, Ray had made himself truly autonomous and thus able to follow the promptings of his own 'daemon' or native genius, regardless of worldly considerations.  

3) at his best, his art was universal. True we can say 'Piccasso was Spanish. Such and such trait he displays in such and such work, has deep Spanish roots'. But, the fact is, it has deep roots in every other civilization. Ray is like Picasso in this respect. Indeed, he too was a hugely talented painter. On the other hand, it must be admitted that universality doesn't always go with 'kairos' or timeliness. Things may have been different in the Fifties, but after the Chinese invasion in 1962, Ray's films seemed irrelevant or exercises in obfuscation or self-deceit. 

However, mine may be a parochial, desi, view. 

The brilliant Rachel Dwyer writes of Satyajit Ray as 'the mind of Bengal' in Open Magazine

Ray’s powerful cinematic images were my foundation for a sense of India.

This is unlikely. Rachel had seen films set in India on TV as a kid. She thinks she first saw Ray's movies in 1980 when she moved to London to study Sanskrit at SOAS. This suggests an earlier interest in India. Surely she would have read 'Jungle book' and watched the Disney animated movie?  

I could imagine the Bengali countryside by recalling Apu and Durga in the kash grass seeing the train, or understand the beauty of the monsoon by recalling the rain on the pond with music by Ravi Shankar (Pather Panchali, 1955).

Sadly, my own imagined India was based entirely on 'It aint half hot, Mum'. This is because I had actually lived in the place.  

I could envisage the zamindari world by thinking of the chandelier in Jalsaghar (1958), or recall the stylish life of contemporary Calcutta from the trilogy (Pratidwandi, 1970, Seemabaddha, 1971, Jana Aranya, 1975), while seeing love grow in the crumbling world of the middle class (Apur Sansar, 1959) or the older city through the street life glimpsed through the shutters by Charulata (1964) and the splendour of now decaying mansions and their decaying families in it and in Ghare Baire (1984).

I suppose Rachel is saying that she was a serious student. If you study Sanskrit, you stay away from the riff-raff who watch Sholay or Guru Dutt films. Incidentally Sholay was shown on British TV in 1981 or 1982.  

Other highlights included the aesthetics of religion as portrayed in Devi (1960)

Religion is bad unless it is very very boring.  

and encounters of the urban youth with another India in Aranyer Din Ratri (1969).

I have to take my hat off to Rachel. Few Indians showed up when I ran those films at the LSE in 1980. I complained of this to Pamela Cullen at the Indian High Commission. She had heard the same complaint  many times before. My memory is that she suggested I invite some Bengali professors to talk about each film. Their PhD students would feel compelled to show up with their friends.  I explained that Bengali professors ran away when they saw me approach. They may be good hearted, but they don't tolerate stupid Madrasis. 

The stylish world of Uttam Kumar, the film star on the amazing train and Sharmila Tagore’s iconic glasses in Nayak (1966) and of the town of Darjeeling in Kanchenjunga (1962) are among the other lasting impressions of India bequeathed by Ray. Who can forget comparing his Bengali Varanasi in Aparajito (1956) with Joy Baba Felunath (1979)?

Who can forget that the latter film was infinitely worse? 

People have sometimes said I was bound to like Ray because he wasn’t Indian in his aesthetics.

He was a self-hating Indian. His uncle had introduced play-back singing into Indian cinema thus giving it its 'killer app' or u.s.p. Ray stayed away from anything which might make his films popular with Indians. We must keep out the riff-raff, you know.  

Yet, he was indisputably a true Bengali.

Bengal had thrived under the Raj. True Bengalis, like Niradh, yearned for the day Whites returned to rule over them. Not Italian Whites. Any other sort.  

Born in a well-known family and raised in Calcutta, a writer in Bengali (I’m proud to say my basic Bengali has allowed me to read a little)

She probably understands more of what she reads in Bengali because of her solid grounding in Sanskrit.  

and English, his Feluda stories are loved by the bhadralok middle class who admire his films (according to a Bengali famous in the Western academy, Ashis Nandy),

I think Rachel published this article before Nandy published an essay taking down Ray as a deracinated snob. He asked ' Was Ray really Indian? Or was he basically a highly westernized, deracinated cosmopolitan who dealt with Indian themes merely because he happened to live in India?” Nandy, a Christian, suggests that Ray knew little about village India, caste and society.

Other Bengalis suggested that the bhadralok only pretended to like Ray because he was famous in the West.

though they aren’t known in the West.

Ray stands higher in the West than in India.  

Ray was simultaneously at home in Western high culture and in Bengali, though perhaps somewhat unfamiliar with the rest of India.

He got married in Bombay where his Uncle was a leading director. Prithviraj Kapoor attended his wedding.  However, he doesn't seem to have watched many films from the South. 

Ray doesn’t seem to have been comfortable with Western popular culture,

he says he was a big fan of the popular films of the Thirties and Forties. Deanna Durbin was a particular favorite perhaps because, like Ray's wife, she was a gifted soprano.  

his admiration being for European art cinema rather than Hollywood.

He admired the Italian neo-realists. Then Nehru and Marie Seton got Rossellini to make 'Matri Bhumi'. Sadly, that Latin Lothario eloped with Bimal Roy's niece.  

Nor do his films showcase contemporary popular culture—he seems to have enjoyed the old-fashioned Europeans such as Miss Gilby (Jennifer Kendal) in Ghare Baire rather than the hippies of Pratidwandi.

Ray's generation hated the hippies. They showed no color consciousness.  

The latter and Jana Aranya show the grim realities of contemporary Calcutta and the boredom that ensues, while Seemabaddha depicts the shallowness of the allegedly glamorous lives of some the Calcutta elite.

Ray was following a long tradition of elitists scolding the slightly less elite. Think of Madhusudhan's 'Ekei Ki Boley Sabyata'. Still, anything in which Sharmila Tagore appears is worth watching. Her son too is a great actor. 

In Aranyer Din Ratri, the male group of modern, educated and seemingly ‘Westernised’ youth that travels from the city, is selfish and insensitive, and crass in seeking thrills in the forest.

They are tourists. Tourists are bad. Why can't they be Maoists instead?  

Aparna (Sharmila Tagore) is composed and dignified, even when seeing them bathing in their underwear or dancing the twist at night, deliberately loses the memory game and has an impressively cool book and record collection. The story is again from literature (it is based loosely on a novel by Sunil Ganguly), but seems very Western in its characters and style.

It has a dated, Fifties, feel. By 1970, tribal areas were seen as centers of Naxal activity. Jayprakash Narayan had begun his dialogue with the Maoists in Bihar in that year.  Still, it could be seen as a critique of the 'urban bourgeoisie' or something of that sort. 

It is easy to see why Ray’s films were classed as arthouse in the West.

They couldn't be classed as entertainment. If they weren't art, what were they?  

In Calcutta, they were screened in cinemas which showed regular Bengali films, whose audiences in the 1950s and 1960s didn’t watch much Hindi cinema, but enjoyed middle-class Bengali films, including the Uttam-Suchitra romances.

Ray did get Bengali audiences but those audiences didn't get much out of Ray. 

Ray doesn’t fit into the history of Bengali cinema in Calcutta, always standing apart.

He does. His uncle was the cinematographer of Tagore's one and only venture into film. Ray praised Ravi Shankar's eldest brothers experimental 'Kalpana'. Ray went in the opposite direction to his Uncle- Nitin Bose. Thanks to Marie Seton, he was seen as Nehru's favorite director. Indira, a fellow Shantiniketan alumni, had a soft spot for him. Thus he was India's official 'Art Cinema' auteur. Ray was wise enough to hedge his bets. He made some commercial movies in the early Sixties and later made a good enough fist of 'Sociological' movies in the Brahmo, Tagorean, tradition.  

The true heirs of the New Theatres were those who migrated to make Hindi films in Bombay, such as Bimal Roy, Hrishikesh Mukherjee and Shakti Samanta.

and Ray's uncle Nitin Bose. Ganga Jamuna was a big hit in 1961.  

The loss of the audiences of East Pakistan was probably a major factor in these directors looking for wider audiences, though they continued their relationship with the Bengali cultural world and worked closely with other Bengalis.

The Bengalis felt that Mumbai had more venture capital and a more entrepreneurial culture.  

In the 1970s, the Bombay Bengali filmmakers, including Hrishikesh Mukherjee and a younger generation, made middle-class or middle-brow cinema, often remaking Bengali films.

There had been a migration from Calcutta to Bombay even in the Thirties. Bengal had talent but less entrepreneurship. Still, generally speaking, Bengali films were remade in Hindi rather than the other way around.  

RAY HAS CLEAR links to the world of Bengali literature.

If he took his time, he could 'story-board' Bengali novellas like nobody else. One might say that Hindi Cinema offers an ersatz 'Bengaliness' which, I suppose, those who know the real thing might find meretricious.  

He made films based on the fiction of the most highly regarded Bengali authors, including Tagore and Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay, as did Tapan Sinha who drew also on Tagore and many others. Shankar (Mani Shankar Mukherjee) provided the stories for two of Ray’s Calcutta Trilogy—Seemabaddha and Jana Aranya—but also films for other directors, including the wonderful but non-art film Chowringhee (1968), with many of the great stars of Bengali cinema: Uttam Kumar, Supriya Devi, Utpal Dutt and Biswajeet.

Bengal has always had a surplus of talent. The allegation is that their producers were short-sighted or just looking for a tax write-off.  

It’s striking that Ray eschewed the most popular Bengali author for adaptations, that is Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay,

perhaps because Ray wasn't comfortable with strong roles for women.  

whose many novels and stories were made into Bengali films, notably Devdas (many versions), Krishnakanter Will (1932 and 2007), Rajalakshmi O Srikanta (1958), and Hindi films, some of the latter by Bimal Roy—Parineeta (1953), Biraj Bahu (1954), Devdas (1955)—as did the 1970s Bengali and Bengali-influenced directors who made Majhli Didi (1967), Choti Bahu (1971), Khushboo (1975), Swami (1977). It would be fascinating to know more about why he didn’t use these famous works and how he chose others.

Sharat's work is psychologically complex. Ray was like Tagore, he threw so mighty a shadow that no intricacy of emotion was possible, more particularly for women, in his shade.  


Ray made many historical films, including the classic Jalsaghar, whose use of classical music and the crumbling world of the zamindar makes it among my favourites,

It is terrible. If you have Begum Akhtar- who started off as a film actress- you should get one or two specially commissioned ghazals to ensure the movie will be a super-hit.  

or his Tagore-stories (Teen Kanya (1961), Charulata, Ghare Baire).

Charulata is good. Ghare Baire was terrible.  

His Calcutta Trilogy can be compared to Mrinal Sen’s, whose trilogy is more radically arthouse.

It was more 'radical' but Sen changed direction later on. There was less to him than met the eye. Still, he launched Mithun.  

The fame of Ritwik Ghatak, regarded by some as a greater filmmaker than Ray,

one of his films was. He was a Jungian.  

has remained mostly among Bengalis and cinephiles. Even though the British Film Institute has issued DVDs of some of his films, and an excellent book in their ‘Classics’ series on Meghe Dhaka Tara (by Manishita Dass), his films have not found an audience in the West.

It is said that Congress and the Communists ganged up to make him unpopular in his native Bengal.  

Ray tried to promote him, but they differed temperamentally and occasionally clashed.

Ghatak got into films before Ray did. However, unlike Ray, Ghatak was seen as political. He couldn't be a 'sarkari' director. 

Rachel goes on to show her considerable knowledge of Ray's influence on contemporary Bengali cinema which, however, will be of little interest to non-Bengalis. 

The following, however, is interesting- 

Martin Scorsese says his Taxi Driver was influenced by Ray’s Abhijan (1962),

which was a commercial success. It is very well cut and has Waheeda Rehman. It is said that Ray took on the project for a friend who got cold feet. I suppose, under the Studio system, Ray would have produced a whole bunch of successful 'noir' type movies while still getting big budgets for prestigious or passion projects. As in other industries where Bengal previously had the lead, the quality of indigenous entrepreneurship was somewhat lacking. The rise and rise of Telugu Cinema has a lot to do with the success of the 'Andhrapreneur'.  

while others, including Francis Ford Coppola and Wes Anderson, have praised his work fulsomely.

Coppola's 'Godfather' has been hugely influential in India.  

Very few cultural figures from India were widely known in the West before Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children and the subsequent interest in Indian English literature.

I think that is still true. Vikram Seth seems to have stopped writing. Rushdie has just brought out yet another big big book.  

Before the 1980s, the only household names I recall were Rabindranath Tagore, Ravi Shankar and Satyajit Ray.

Ravi Shankar did the music for a film by Chetan Anand which, I believe, was the first Indian film to win an international award (at Cannes). But it wasn't released in India because it was miserabilist shit.  

It’s striking that the three acclaimed figures were all Bengali upper-caste men.

They were from families deeply engaged in the Arts. Tagore came to Okakura and Rothenstein's attention through his nephew who was an artist. Ravi Shankar was the younger brother of Uday Shankar whose dance troupe was internationally famous. Ray's uncle was Nitin Bose for whom his wife had acted and done some play-back singing. 

Is the work of Ray another case of Bengali exceptionalism?

No. It is a case of Bengal's decline. Ray was considered great in the West, not in Bengal. By the late Twenties, Bengali poets had rejected Tagore for T.S Elot. Ravi Shankar was the music director for AIR in Delhi before he started touring internationally. Previously he was in Mumbai where he did the music for 'Dharti ki Lal'. His connection with Bengal was somewhat tenuous. By contrast, Ray- like his father and grandfather- remained rooted in Calcutta whose literature and cultural scene he greatly enriched. 

Bengal’s sense of (not entirely unjustified) cultural superiority makes many Bengalis comfortable in their own culture as well as in others.

They were culturally superior to the rest of us. Indeed, in our hearts, we still think that is true. The problem is that many Bengalis pretend to have read obscure authors or seen art movies. We can't tell the bluffers from the genuine article.  

They keep pre-war British food traditions alive and about 90 per cent of the queue outside 221B Baker Street is for those waiting to see the home of a Bengali who happened to be born British.

There is a very good Tibetan writer who has conclusively proved (to my mind) that Holmes was a Tibetan Yogi of some very advanced description.  

Ray’s films guide us through Bengali culture from the nineteenth century adaptation of Western ideas and culture,

No. He gives us a glimpse of the Tagores' rejection of the legacy of Dwarkanath.  

through communist and leftist eras,

Not really. He had a vague sense that he ought to be on the side of the Naxals. But he had little understanding- perhaps he had little interest in- what was actually happening.  

to the loss of Calcutta’s status as a global city,

because the Brits left.  

economic powerhouse and India’s cultural heartland.

It wasn't the heartland. It was a 'City of Palaces' where new Western (but also Eastern- e.g. from Japan) ideas were first introduced. But resisting the partition of Bengal was a mistake. The bhadralok, despite Tagore's warnings, insisted on slitting their own throats again and again. Perhaps Mamta will stem the rot. Calcutta is still the Indian City with the biggest and most promising economic hinterland. It is more livable than Dacca and can rise swiftly because plenty of 'low hanging fruit' are available.  

Bengal has been apart from the rest of India in many ways, seeing itself as a leader more than an equal.

The founder of the current ruling party was the son of Sir Ashutosh. That's one reason Modi is so keen to win over the Bengalis.  

Bengal has even followed its own unique politics, from Netaji to Didi.

Netaji and his brother failed. Didi is far smarter. She will use the Muslims. She won't become their dupe. I say that with fingers crossed.  

One can only speculate how Ray would show the current political shifts whose results will coincide with his birth centenary.

Nonsense! Ray would show that Modi is Hitler. Mamta would pat him on the back. Rahul will explain that the real meaning of 'Abhijaan' is India should break up. The problem with the buddhijivi is that they need a foreign hand to lick or one to give them awards for being too proud to lick a hand nobody wants slobbered over. The rest of the time, they enjoy scolding everybody for being Bengali or not being Bengali enough. 


Decanting Kant's cant.

 The Point has a good article on Kant's 300th birth anniversary in which different philosophers highlight different quotations from the great philosopher which they personally found enlightening. 

It begins by looking at Kant's notion of an aesthetic idea- 

By an aesthetic idea … I mean that representation of the imagination that occasions much thinking though without it being possible for any determinate thought, i.e., concept, to be adequate to it, which, consequently, no language fully attains or can make intelligible.

Suppose I hear that the auditors are going to make a surprise inspection tomorrow. I start imagining various scenarios. Suppose, they are going to check the Sales ledger. In that case, I am safe because I'm in charge of purchasing. But what if they focus on office expenses? They might find out I am buying toner from my brother-in-law. So what? I'm actually getting a discount and can prove it. Still... they might get suspicious. They might uncover some thing else. What if they frame me? Could that happen? No. I'm getting worked up over nothing. Nevertheless, I have a vague sense of unease. I can't put my forebodings into words. You could say, I have a visceral intuition rather than anything reasoned or effable.

Is this an 'aesthetic idea'? No. It is an intension whose extension is unknown. Indeed, the elderly janitor, who doesn't know what the word 'auditor' means, might share this feeling with the Purchasing Manager. If we have little knowledge of future states of the world, our thinking is bound to be 'uncorseted by concepts'. However, in an aesthetic field, we might have a lot of knowledge about what will happen next. We may gain pleasure from some novelty or 'surprisal' in how that inevitable sequence is played out. We may not have a good structural causal model of how the trick is worked, in which case we might say 'this moves me for a reason I can't put into words' but we might nod our heads politely if a Scientist says 'I measured your brain waves. At time t, the singer introduced a surprising micro-note , this stimulated such and such receptor in your amygdala. That's why you liked this song so much.'       

Michel Chaouli takes a different view. He asks us to         

savor the fact that this man, so maniacally devoted to conceptual rigor, opens the view to a field—an “immeasurable field,” he adds a page later—of a form of thinking uncorseted by concepts. This thinking that happens in aesthetic experience is of a kind that “no language … can make intelligible”—unintelligible thinking. Yet it is not nonsense; it is not madness or divine possession or Bacchic transport or any of the other things philosophers have called the experience of art. No, it is thinking. And take Kant at his word: thinking is active, continuous, present. Often it stiffens into thought, which is just thinking in the past. But not here.

A lot of our brain activity isn't linguistic. Equally, we may be talking without thinking or while thinking of something else. Kant wasn't a fool. He understood this.  

Here the imagination is in the driver’s seat.

Just as it is if you are alone at night in a spooky place. 

It is productive. It is poetic, in the word’s ancient sense, which is why Kant says that poetry is the true home of aesthetic ideas.

Surely that is rather a banal observation? Poetry is supposed to be beautiful or profound or some such thing. Sadly, that is seldom the case.  

Poetry produces poetic thinking, thinking that eludes the grasp of concepts. It puts into words what cannot be made intelligible by words alone.

Because though we can name feelings or describe them well enough, there is no verbal formula which is interchangeable with a feeling or an experience. 

Now you pause and relish the reward of slogging through 49 sections: a vista of an immeasurable field of thinking out of the reach of the very philosophy that discovered it.

Sadly, there is no such reward.

Sergio Tenenbaum draws our attention to the following passage from 'Religion within the bounds of Reason'- 

'We may presuppose evil as subjectively necessary in every human being,

this may be a dogma of our religion. We may pay it lip service but we need not ponder the matter too deeply. Dogmas are merely shibboleths or 'uncorrelated asymmetries' enabling us to distinguish those of our sect from others.  

even the best. Now, since this propensity must itself be considered morally evil,

Why?  We train out soldiers to kill. We endow them with a propensity which, ordinarily speaking, would be evil. But we do so for a good purpose. The fact that our soldiers are known to be very good at killing might itself prevent any large scale violence. A propensity or natural tendency is not good or evil if some check upon it supervenes. Our soldiers are trained to only use violence when the rules of war permit. 

hence not a natural predisposition but something that a human being can be held accountable for,

I have a natural tendency to fart. However, at some point in childhood, I was taught to repress this natural tendency when in the company of others.  I might be forgiven for inadvertently letting one rip on one social occasion but I may find myself ostracized if I make a habit of it. 

and consequently must consist in maxims of the power of choice contrary to the law and yet, because of freedom, such maxims must be viewed as accidental, a circumstance that would not square with the universality of the evil at issue unless their supreme subjective ground were not in all cases somehow entwined with humanity itself and, as it were, rooted in it;

Nonsense! Kant's problem was that he hadn't studied the law. He didn't understand that judgments are defeasible. To be fair, it wasn't till relatively recently that mathematical category theory showed why 'naturality' or 'non-arbitrariness' is far to seek. The Eighteenth Century had a naive faith in 'natural law' and even 'natural religion'.  

so we can call this ground a natural propensity to evil, and, since it must nevertheless always come about through one’s own fault, we can further even call it a radical innate evil in human nature.

One call anything by any name. That does not alter reality.  

Sergio writes-

Kant’s views here are taken by many philosophers to be an impossible attempt to have it both ways. Kant seems to be arguing that evil is necessarily attributed to each of us, apparently rooted in human nature. And yet at the same time he claims that evil is freely chosen: each of us is fully responsible for this unavoidable human predicament. But how is this possible? How could a condition “entwined with humanity itself” be something that “come[s] about through one’s own fault”?

Negligence or malice. I should have taken a shit before attending your dinner party. My negligence caused me to fart and stink up the place. However, my shitting myself was a definite act of malice.  

Nonetheless I always found this passage to contain a powerful insight into the human condition. It is not only Kant who needs to have it both ways; we all do.

No. We have a propensity and receive training to suppress it. However, we may suffer an accident though there may be a degree of personal negligence. The law clarifies such matters. If I didn't shit myself on purpose, you may still have a have an action in tort against me. I was negligent in not emptying my bowels before attending your dinner party. My defense is that I was drunk off my head. Sadly, since I had no business rendering myself so hopelessly intoxicated, my defense fails.  

The high ideals that we set for ourselves are indeed unattainable,

which is why we keep shitting ourselves at dinner parties- right?  

and yet we betray our freedom if we do not own up to every particular failure of our agency.

No. We misuse our freedom. A dinner party isn't the right place to take a shit.  

Not seeing that these ideals are unattainable, let alone thinking that one has attained them, is a form of moral arrogance or fanaticism that blinds us to the real obstacles for moral progress.

That's a stretch. Still, it is true that by focusing on not shitting ourselves at dinner parties, we neglect our duty to show solidarity with trans people by undergoing gender reassignment surgery.  

Yet not seeing that our failures are imputable to us is a form of self-satisfaction that lets us rationalize our shortcomings as vicissitudes of human nature.

My failure to chop my own balls off is a vicissitude of human nature.  

It is certainly difficult to find a path here between arrogance and rationalization. Whether or not Kant succeeded in doing so, it is undeniably to his credit that he saw that such a path must be there.

There is no such path. There is merely virtue signaling. The fact is I have vowed not to undergo gender reassignment surgery till every last starving disabled Guatemalan lesbian goat has been provided with this vital service. 

Keren Gorodeisky highlights Kant's notion of '“sensus communis,” which Kant identifies with taste. What is this sensus communis? It is “the idea of a communal sense, i.e., a faculty for judging that in its reflection takes account (a priori) of everyone else’s way of representing in thought.”'

We say a person has 'good taste' if they correctly identify the Schelling focal solution to coordination and discoordination games. Thus if you are dining with snobs, you show good taste by praising the vintage wine that has been carefully selected by your host. You show bad taste by demanding Coca Cola. 

If Kant is right,

He isn't. He lived long ago and thus didn't know about game theory.  

our widespread aesthetic sociality and the risk of aesthetic alienation are not a happenstance—a result of the way we happened to organize our lives, the fact of the vast world of beauty or the shortness of our lives.

The fact is we have prudential or mercenary reasons for wishing to be in part of this clique or else to clearly advertise that we will have nothing to do with it. Economics explains this.  

They are already there every time each of us appreciates beauty, whether we are alone or together.

It is useful to cultivate a propensity for correctly identifying 'focal solutions' or more simply to have good 'Tardean mimetics'- i.e. an instinct to copy superiors. If everybody is drinking vintage wine and talking about Proust, drink wine and say 'honestly, I feel I walking through the world like a blind man till I read 'Remembrance'.'  

To appreciate, for Kant, is already to speak to you as a “you” and as different from “me”;

No. Kant wasn't stupid. He knew that people with good taste like to appreciate good things with other decent people. He feels there is a 'we' which gains greater enjoyment than could be possible on a solitary or adversarial basis.  

it requires that I acknowledge others as those who can either agree or disagree with me, as other members of the same potential community.

There is no such notion in Kant. He was cool with the Enlightened despot or the refined 'Beamten' of Civil Servant who sets the pattern for society. He didn't think anybody had any obligation to acknowledge the alterity of the Lesbian Guatemalan goat.  

And it is by experiencing beauty and art that we experience this fundamental connection between us and our necessary “separateness” (in Stanley Cavell’s coinage).

Bullshit! We like watching our favorite films while cuddling with our wife or kiddies on the couch. Equally, our enjoyment of a soccer match is greater if we are part of the crowd.  

Simone de Beauvoir calls it “the miracle of literature”:

that miracle is that her books can't actually bore you to death though they can put you to sleep quickly enough.  

“that an other truth becomes mine without ceasing to be other. I renounce my own ‘I’ in favor of the speaker; and yet I remain myself.”

Sartre started off as a stand-up comic. Sadly, Simone would keep interrupting him to say 'I'm renouncing myself!'  Thus the fellow was obliged to take up philosophy. 

No wonder, then, that Kant’s aesthetics influenced thinkers like de Beauvoir and Hannah Arendt,

who lacked a penis and thus had to pretend to understand Heidegger- whom Arendt had actually fucked.  

who explore the political and social aspects of human existence.

because exploring Outer Space requires actual intelligence 

No wonder it is still relevant for us today.

Coordination and discoordination games are important. As David Lewis points out, Conventions are Schelling focal solutions to the former. The 'moral inversion' we see on woke campuses is a 'discoordination game' which will end when non-STEM subjects are defunded. 

Perhaps, had Frank Ramsey had lived, we Anglo-Saxons would have a Pragmatic, game theoretic, 'Law & Econ' which would 'de-Kant' (as Binmore puts it) Social Choice and Political Philosophy. But anyone can figure out what that would be for themselves. It is easy enough to decant Kant's wine and get rid of two centuries of holier-than-thou cant. 

Personally I found this passage from a paper by Prof. Gier illuminating- 

Though this representation [of heaven and hell] is figurative, and, as such disturbing, it is nonetheless philosophically correct in meaning. That is, it serves to prevent us from regarding good and evil, the realm of light and realm of darkness, as bordering on each other and as losing themselves in one another by gradual steps. . . but rather to represent those realms as being separated from one another by an immeasurable gulf

'...there is the belief in the coincidence of eschaton and noumenon, that means that the "end" already exists in an atemporal state of moral perfection. We find this view in works as far apart as Lectures on Philosophical Theology, Foundations of the Metaphysics of Morals (hereafter Foundations), and parts of Religion. In these passages the operative phrase is "kingdom of ends," an ideal moral realm in which each rational being is automatically a member. During the winter of 1783-84 Kant introduced this idea: "If all men speak the truth, then a system of ends is possible among them" (LPT 140; cf. 41). This view continues in Foundations, where the noumenal kingdom of ends, consisting of self-legislating rational beings, contrasts with a phenomenal realm of heteronomous beings obedient to an external law. Again, membership is not granted by God, but is acquired by reason: "He is fitted to be a member in a possible realm of ends to which his own nature already destined him" (F, 54). Even though Religion introduces a significantly different eschatology, Kant's initial view is still present: "The constant seeking for the kingdom of God would be equivalent to knowing oneself to be already in possession of this kingdom"; and we must "consider ourselves always as chosen citizens of a divine ethical state" (R 61, 93).'

 




Wednesday 24 April 2024

Brexit's Ganga-Lahiri


From Matthew Arnold's Oakfield 'exiled to Ind by the 39 Articles'
To Parousia's 'Free Church' Buchan's 39 paranoid Steps
Our English Commonwealth's 'Ganga-lahiri'
Is of Pundit Jagannath not Shaunak Rishi





Amartya Sen on Satyajit Ray

Some artists are parochial. They serve a local market. Some parochial artists may be said to have universal appeal. Anyone at all can enjoy them. What of a parochial product, which the locals don't greatly care for, but which is exported as exotic or artsy-fartsy or as embodying some virtuous ideology? Might it not represent something universal? Certainly. But only in the sense that the Japanese Tea Ceremony is universal, not to mention watching paint dry. 

Satyajit Ray's work was parochial. Unlike his Uncle, Nitin Bose, who invented play-back singing, moved to Bombay and made some blockbusters, Ray stuck with being an artsy-fartsy Bengali whose films were devoid of nice song & dance numbers. But, this also meant they might appeal to elite Western audiences who considered 'musicals' to be frothy and escapist. The Soviet Union however preferred melodramas with lots of romantic songs and folk dances and fight scenes. Nargis and Raj Kapoor were big stars behind the Iron Curtain. Thus their films could be said to have universal appeal save for sophisticated Western audiences. 

  Marie Seton, the biographer of Eisenstein, was brought by Nehru to Delhi to help with the Government's 'Films division'. She befriended the handsome and cultured Satyajit Ray and got Nehru to champion him (which is how his first film got to Venice despite opposition from the State and Central Government). Previously, in 'January 1952, Nehru had stressed the need for more State interventions in the field of films. He had said-‘Film has become a powerful influence in people’s lives. It can educate them rightly or wrongly… I mean that they should introduce artistic and aesthetical values in life and encourage the appreciation of beauty in all its aspects. I hope that films which are just sensational or melodramatic or such as make capital out of crime, will not be encouraged. If our film industry keeps this ideal before it, it will encourage good taste and help pave its own way in the building of a new India…' Since Ray's films were boring but artsy, Ray was the 'sarkari' director par excellence. Well, he would have been if he hadn't been utterly shit. Nehru, again on Seton's advise, had brought in an actual Italian- not a Bengali bloke who liked 'Bicycle Thieves'- to film 'India- Matri Bhumi'. Ray could not compete with Rossellini as an auteur but he was certainly more boring than any Italian or Frenchman and thus a true acolyte of Tagore. 

Sadly for Marie Seton & Rossellini & co, Mehboob Khan re-made 'Aurat' as 'Mother India' in 1957. It was a big hit and became the defining 'Nehruvian' film of the decade. What's more the Communist countries were prepared to pay hard cash for entertaining movies which were melodramatic and sensational and made 'capital out of crime'. Thus Nargis, whose social origins were perhaps not very exalted, could, at a later point, tell the Indian Government to stop subsidizing bougie Ray & his miserabilist bullshit. 

One other thing. Ray's 'Kanchenjunga' came out in May 1962.  The Chinese invaded in October. Nehru suddenly needed a film-maker, familiar with the relevant terrain, who could stir up patriotic sentiment. Could Ray do something in this regard? No. Don't be silly.  'Kanchenjunga' explained why the Indians didn't want to defend the Himalayas. It wasn't that the Himalayas weren't beautiful or sacred to the Hindus. It's just that Nehru's Indians were lazy, cowardly and utterly shit. 

Amartya Sen, who may have crossed paths with Ray at Shantinketan (where the latter studied Art after taking a degree in Economics) has a chapter in his 'Argumentative Indian shithead' titled 'Satyajit Ray and the art of Universalism: Our Culture, Their Culture'. 

Rossellini's art may have been universal. Nehru thought it worthwhile to pay him to make movies in India of the sort he had made in Italy and Germany. Incidentally, an Iranian diplomat wrote part of the script of 'Matr-bhumi'. What of Ray? Did he make films in Italy or China? Nope. He was parochial. However, because of competition in the local market, Ray needed either Government subsidies or else the equivalent of an 'affirmative action' rent arising on niche foreign markets where his competitors were artificially excluded. Ray was smart enough to neither become wholly dependent on the Government nor the tiny foreign market. Sadly, he wasn't smart enough to make films with mass appeal. 

Sen, like Ray, has made a career by pretending to be Indian to foreigners and pretending to know Western Liberal culture to Indians. He writes-

The work of Satyajit Ray presents a remarkably insightful understanding of the relations between cultures,

In India, the relationship between cultures was crude. The rulers had culture. The ruled were merely human cattle. I suppose one might say that Ray belonged to the first generation of Bengalis for whom Hindu, Islamic and European cultures jostled with each other to establish dominance. Pakistan went down the Islamic route. India was Hindu with a small topsoil of secular stupidity and boring virtue signaling. 

 Ray was not interested in war or partition or anything dramatic in nature. He did make a film about the famine where everybody starves to death in between saying boring and stupid shit. He never made a film about partition. He had no insight or understanding of the clash between Hindu and Muslim culture which led to so much bloodshed in Bengal. What of the relation between English and Indian culture? Once again, we draw a blank. David Lean's 'Passage' might be said to address that issue. Ray's 'Chess-players', though starring Richard Attenborough, was boring shite about how Muslim Nawabs are boring shitheads. 

and his ideas remain pertinent to the great cultural debates in the contemporary world, not least in India.

He had no ideas, that was the trouble.  

I would like to pursue these ideas. In Ray’s films and in his writings, we find explorations of at least three general themes on cultures and their interrelations: the importance of distinctions between different local cultures and their respective individualities;

why is that important? Is it because it could lead to ethnic cleansing? Ray saw that happen with his own eyes. He didn't write about it or make films about it. There is no big clash of cultures in his films. There are some dudes from Calcutta who meet a Santhal girl or something of that sort but the thing misfires.  

the necessity of understanding the heterogeneous character of each local culture (even the culture of a common, not to mention a region or a country);

Sen's people understood that heterogeneous character well enough to run the fuck away from East Bengal and its Muslim majority 

and the great need for intercultural communication,

film-makers need to make interesting films if they wish to communicate with audiences from other cultures.  

attended by a recognition of the barriers that make intercultural communication a hard task.

The British had no trouble overcoming 'cultural barriers' so as to rule Bengal. They could also make good enough films about 'cultural barriers' between themselves and the Indians- e.g. Attenborough's 'Gandhi' and  Lean's 'Passage' and various interminable BBC serials about the Raj. 

However, the Brits did not confine themselves to the urban chattering classes.  Korda had made 'elephant boy' Sabu a star in Hollywood. Renoir mightn't have been able to do much with Rumer Godden's 'the River' but 'Black Narcissus' was a big hit. I personally quite liked 'Nine hours to Rama' where Godse was played by Horst Buchholz and Robert Morley played a Congress Minister. I suppose we should mention Merchant and Ivory and Jhabwala- especially their 'Heat and Dust'- all of whom show that film can easily be as universal as you like provided it doesn't aim to be as boring as shit. 

A deep respect for distinctiveness is combined, in Ray’s vision, with a recognition of internal diversity and an appreciation of the need for genuine communication.

Sen says 'Ray shows women as wearing Sari and men as wearing dhoti'. This is clear proof the man was a freakin' genius.  

Impetuous cosmopolitans have something to learn from his focus on distinctiveness, but it is the growing army of communitarian and cultural “separatists” — increasingly more fashionable in India and elsewhere, that most needs to take note of the persistence of heterogeneity at the local level and the creative role of intercultural and intercommunal communication and learning.

Why didn't Raj make a movie about the Bangladesh war? He says it was because he preferred refugees to 'politics'. In other words, he wanted to be a boring virtue signaling cunt.  


In emphasizing the need to honor the individuality of each culture, Ray saw no reason for closing the doors to the outside world. Indeed, opening doors was an important priority of Ray’s work.

You could replace 'Ray' with 'Tagore' or, indeed, 'Sen', himself.  

In this respect, Ray’s attitude contrasts sharply with the increasing tendency to see Indian culture (or cultures) in highly conservative terms, to preserve it (or them) from the “pollution” of Western ideas and thought.

Indian movies, like American movies, have never been conservative. They eagerly imitate or appropriate anything from anywhere if that will boost box-office receipts. Ray was unusual in that he wanted to make boring shit in the way he had previously made boring shit. But then his was a niche market predicated on some supposed genius he had.  

He was always willing to enjoy and to learn from ideas, art forms, and styles of life from anywhere, in India or abroad.

He wasn't even willing to learn from his Uncle, who invented play-back singing.  

Ray appreciated the importance of heterogeneity within local communities.

This is like appreciating the importance of the cosmopolitanism of small, smelly Turd World villages.  

This perception contrasts sharply with the tendency of many communitarians, religious and secular, who are willing to break up the nation into communities and then stop dead there: “thus far and no further.”

Why shouldn't there be ethnic cleansing and partition in every hut or hovel? 

The great filmmaker’s eagerness to seek the larger unit — to talk to the whole world — went well with his enthusiasm for understanding the smallest of the small — the individuality, ultimately, of each person.

This is where Ray failed. He couldn't create any interesting characters. His 'Feluda' is a fool.  If Ray really had any universal, as opposed to virtue signaling, quality, his detective films and his films for kids would have been remade- at least in India. But they were boring shite. 


From such a vision, I believe, we have much to learn right now. There can be little doubt about the importance that Ray attached to the distinctiveness of cultures.

If cultures aren't distinctive they may end up getting Gay with each other. Ray was very stern about such things. He would tell Classical culture to kindly take its dick out of the arsehole of Modern culture.  

He also discussed the problems that these divisions create in the possibility of communication across cultural boundaries.

e.g. Americans not being able to understand what Japanese actors are saying in Japanese films.  

In Our Films, Their Films, he noted the important fact that films acquire “colour from all manner of indigenous factors such as habits of speech and behaviour, deep- seated social practices, past traditions, present influences and so on.”

Yet Korda could make money out of films about an elephant boy in Mysore who, a little later, is a Prince on the North West Frontier. What Ray was noticing was nonsense.  

He went on to ask: “How much of this can a foreigner — with no more than a cursory knowledge of the factors involved — feel and respond to?”

Enough to make money from movies that aint as boring as shit.  

He observed also that “there are certain basic similarities in human behaviour all over the world” (such as “expressions of joy and sorrow, love and hate, anger, surprise and fear”), but “even they can exhibit minute local variations which can only puzzle and perturb — and consequently warp the judgment of — the uninitiated foreigner.”

Ray was wrong. The inscrutable Chinese and the histrionic Hispanics all responded in exactly the same way to the great silent film starts. During the Thirties, import restrictions played a role in market segmentation by language for 'the Talkies'.  But 'genre' movies- e.g. Samurai movies, creature features,  or sword & sandals epics- showed that audiences responded to the same things in the same ways in very different countries. As a human document, Ray's first film, like Nanook of the North, had some value. Oddly Ravi Shankar's music turned out to have some appeal everywhere though it appealed to few in India itself. With Ray, even this wasn't true. He peaked with his first and went down hill thereafter. 

The presence of such cultural differences raises many interesting problems.

By 'interesting' Sen means 'boring and stupid'.  

The possibility of communication is only one of them.

The Brits had no problem ruling Bengal. This is because they understood that by learning a language you solve all fucking problems associated with the possibility of communication.  

There is also the more basic issue of the individuality of each culture.

No there isn't. Either a culture exists or it doesn't. Individuals have individuality. Cultures don't. It doesn't matter if Jain culture is indistinguishable from Hindu culture to most people. There is absolutely no need for Jains to put on some special type of dress in order to appear different.  

How might this individuality be respected and valued, even as the world grows steadily smaller and more uniform?

There is no reason or need to respect or value individuality or culture or anything else. Now it is true that some people may say 'the Government should ensure that such and such indigenous tribe or ancient dialect does not perish'. But that has to do with protecting autochthonous people from settlers or mining corporations etc.  

We live in a time in which many things are increasingly common, and the possibility that something important is being lost in this process of integration has aroused understandable concern.

amongst virtue signaling cretins. The rest of us don't care. Cinema is either entertaining or it makes a loss. Unlike penis puppetry, cinema can't discover a cure for cancer.  


The individuality of cultures is a big subject now,

No. 'Clash of civilizations' had become a thing. Nobody was saying that Canadians were completely unlike human beings.  

and the tendency towards the homogenization of cultures, particularly in some uniformly Western mode, or in the deceptive form of “modernity,”

how is modernity deceptive? Sen doesn't know. He is just repeating shit at third hand.  In India, the 'jadidi' or 'modernist' tradition was associated with reform-minded religious poets and writers. Thus Bedil was championed by 'jadidi' intellectuals in Afghanistan and Central Asia while in India there was direct participation by Urdu poets and artists in Socialist and anti-Imperialist movements. Nehru was part and parcel of that intellectual culture just as much as Azad and Hasrat Mohani. Peshawar produced a lot of great actors and directors who were part of the PWA movement and who made it big in Bollywood. Sahir, a Communist who fled Pakistan, became very rich penning songs for the Hindi movies. Tagore and Ray and Sen were considered bourgeois fossils.

has been sharply challenged. Anxieties of this kind have been expressed in different forms in recent cultural studies, which flourish today in Western literary and intellectual circles.

Shitty ones populated by Bengalis- maybe.  

There is an irony, perhaps, in the fact that so much of the critique of “Western modernity” has come straight from the West to the Third World;

England was modern in the sense that it used newer technology. It ruled India, which was backwards in many respects. Since England is to the West of India, Indians would naturally speak of 'Western modernity' more particularly if they are qualifying as barristers or Actuaries, etc.  

but these questions are being plentifully asked in contemporary India as well. Engaging arguments in this direction have been presented by, among others, Partha Chatterjee, in The Nation and Its Fragments (1993) and elsewhere, and in the literary, sociological and anthropological writings of such diverse and forceful authors as Ashis Nandy, Homi K. Bhaba and Veena Das, to name a few.

They were worthless shitheads just as Ray was a boring fool 

These approaches share, to varying extents, a well-articulated “antimodernism,” rejecting, in particular, “Western” forms of modernization, which Chatterjee contrasts with the preferred form of what he calls “our modernism.”

which was and is technologically less advanced in many fields. 

Sometimes the defiance of Western cultural modes is expressed in India through enunciations of the unique importance of Indian culture and the traditions of its communities.

In every country, there are people who want to preserve traditions unique to themselves.  

At the broader level of “Asia” rather than India, the separateness of “Asian values,” and their distinction from Western norms, has often been asserted, particularly in east Asia, from Singapore and Malaysia to China and Japan.

But this has nothing to do with cinema. Hong Kong, Japan and South Korea could earn good money exporting movies and TV series to the West. 'Asian values' had to do with a different type of polity and legal structure. As Singapore's law minister says, the fact that Singapore has had only 4 Prime Ministers since its Independence, whereas the Tory Party has had 4 Prime Ministers since the Brexit referendum, is also the reason Singapore is now much richer than the UK. Sen, cretin that he is, thinks 'Asian values' has to do with wearing kimono or dhoti.  

The invoking of Asian values has sometimes occurred in rather dubious political circumstances. It has been used to justify authoritarianism (and harsh penalties for alleged transgressions) in some east Asian countries. In 1993, at the Vienna conference on human rights, the foreign minister of Singapore, along with the Chinese Foreign Minister, cited the differences between Asian and European traditions and argued that “universal recognition of the ideal of human rights can be harmful if universalism is used to deny or mask the reality of diversity.”

They were saying they wouldn't sign trade agreements which had human rights clauses or shite of that sort. They have prevailed.  

The championing of “Asian values” has typically come from governmental spokesmen and not from individuals opposed to the established regimes. Still, the general issue is important enough to deserve our attention; and so, in examining the implications of cultural diversity, I must also take up this question.

Sen contributed nothing to this debate. It simply is a fact that 'human rights' are meaningless if incentive compatible remedies aren't available. Greatly curtailing the freedom of a large class of people may lead to rapid economic development such that, with hindsight, they would consider the sacrifice worthwhile.  


Even though he emphasized the difficulties of intercultural communication, Ray did not take cross-cultural comprehension to be impossible.

He spoke English. It is fucking obvious that he could do 'cross-cultural comprehension' because he had no difficulty working in London.  

He saw the difficulties as challenges to be surmounted rather than as strict boundaries that could not be breached.

Which is why there are so many scenes of Argentines dancing the Tango and Chinese people doing Kung Fu in his films.  

He did not propound a thesis of “incommunicability” across cultural boundaries; he argued instead that we need to recognize the difficulties that may arise. And on the larger subject of preserving traditions against foreign influence, Ray was not a cultural conservative. He did not give systematic priority to inherited practices.

He gave priority to boring shite.  


I find no evidence in Ray’s films or in his writings that the fear of being too influenced by outsiders disturbed his equilibrium as an “Indian” artist.

If you are making boring films, why bother to steal stuff from interesting films made by foreigners?  

He wanted to take full note of the importance of a particular cultural background without denying what there is to learn from elsewhere.

He didn't have to learn how to be boring. It just came to him naturally.  

There is much wisdom, I think, in this “critical openness,” including the prizing of a dynamic, adaptable world over a world that is constantly “policing” external influences and fearing “invasion” of ideas from elsewhere.

Sen is a Professor. His job is 'policing' ideas. In the above he is saying one type of thinking is very wicked and evil. Ray was just as bigoted. What neither understood is that it is the outcome of the receipt of ideas or the result of actual invasions or insurrections which matters. Ray might have been able to make watchable movies if he had followed the example of his Uncle and what other directors were getting up to in Bombay and Madras. If he wanted to make a detective film, he could have studied Hitchcock. If the wanted to make a musical fantasy for kids, he could have watched Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. His films needn't have been utterly shit.  To be fair, Ray was something of a one-man band. Hitchcock's movies would have sucked if he'd composed the music and the dialogue and also taken on the role of the icy blonde. 

The difficulties of understanding each other across the boundaries of culture are undoubtedly great.

Not for film-makers.  

This applies to the cinema, but also to other art forms, especially literature.

Not if you are bilingual or just have access to a good enough translation 

The inability of most foreigners, even of other Indians, to grasp the beauty of Rabindranath Tagore’s poetry

which is boring shit. On the other hand, because the guy was the head of a Hindu sect he could convey a particular Hindu sentiment well enough.  

(a failure that we Bengalis find so exasperating) is a good illustration of this problem. Indeed, the thought that these non-appreciating others are being willfully contrary and obdurate (rather than being thwarted by the barriers of languages and translations) is a frequently aired suspicion.

We suspect that people who went to Shantiniketan are going to pretend Tagore wasn't a boring cunt because they gain a reputational benefit thereby.  


The problem is perhaps less extreme in films, so far as film is less dependent on language. People can be informed by gestures and actions. Still, our day-to-day experiences generate certain patterns of reaction and non-reaction that can be mystifying for foreign viewers who have not had those experiences.

Not really. Samurai films and Hong Kong 'chop-socky' were popular precisely because of the bizarre body language and facial tics associated with the genre. 

The gestures — and the non-gestures — that are quite standard, and are “perfectly ordinary,” in India may appear altogether remarkable when they are seen by others.

Fuck off! If you want Indian, get Peter Sellers. Actual Indians are too boring. On the other hand, you could pass of IS Jowhar as an Arab.  

Also words have a function that goes well beyond the information that they directly convey.

No. Words convey information even if their meaning is not known. Sen thinks semantic information is the only sort. He is as stupid as shit.  

Much is communicated by the sound of the language, and a special choice of words conveys a particular meaning or creates a particular effect.

to cretins. Others understand that sonorous boring shit is just boring shit.  

As Ray observed, “in a sound film, words are expected to perform not only a narrative but a plastic function,” and “much will be missed unless one knows the language, and knows it well.”

Ray was wrong. Lots of the films he liked were in languages he didn't know.  

Even the narrative may be inescapably transformed by language barriers, owing to nuances that are missed in translations.

More plausibly, Sen may be a fucking cretin. 

I was reminded of Ray’s remark the other day when I saw Tin Kanya again, in Cambridge, Massachusetts, at a recent festival of Ray’s films (in their wonderful reissues by Merchant-Ivory). When the obdurate Paglee at last decides to write a letter to her spurned husband, she conveys her new sense of intimacy by addressing him with the familiar form tumi rather than the formal apni.

So what? We get that the 'tom boy' has calmed down. This is like 'taming of the shrew'. Fuck is wrong with Sen.  

This could not be caught in the English subtitle.

Why the fuck is the cunt looking at the subtitle? 

The translation had to show her sign the letter as “your wife,” to convey this new sense of intimacy; but the Bengali original form in which she signs as “Paglee” but addresses him as tumi, is infinitely more subtle.

It is meaningless. What matters is that she looks happy and is not fisting herself.  

Such difficulties cannot be altogether escaped. Ray did not design his movies for a foreign audience, and the Ray fans abroad who rush to see his films know that they are, in a sense, eavesdropping.

Nobody 'rushed' to see his boring shit.  

This relationship between the artist and the eavesdropper is by now very well established among the millions of Ray’s admirers around the world.

He had few admirers which is why his films never had nationwide releases or ran for very long. However, they were heavily promoted by the Indian Government through their missions abroad.  

There is no expectation that his films are anything other than those of an Indian director — and a Bengali director — made for a local audience, and the attempt to see what is going on in these films is a decision to engage in a self-consciously “receptive” activity.

He was known as a maker of art films. Since they featured no nudity, you assumed it was about spirituality and the duty to be nice to starving darkies in shithole countries. Economic theory explains why there will always be some boring and shitty movies which however there is a reputational benefit in having claimed to have watched.  


In this sense, Ray has triumphed and on his own terms.

Because Govt. of India promoted the cunt.  

This vindication of his belief that he will be understood, barriers notwithstanding, tells us about the possibility of understanding across cultural boundaries. It may be hard, but it can be done; and the eagerness with which viewers with rich experience of Western cinema flock to see Ray’s films (despite the occasional obscurities of a presentation tailored to an entirely different audience) indicates what may be accomplished when there is a willingness to go beyond the bounds of one’s own culture.

There simply is no such 'eagerness'. True, some kids may think Kurosawa or Scorsese were sincere in their praise of Ray. But the only sincere type of praise in cinema is imitation.  


Satyajit Ray makes an important distinction between what is or is not sensible when one tries to speak across a cultural divide, especially across the divide between the West and India. In 1958, two years after Pather Panchali won the Special Award in Cannes, and one year after he won the Grand Prix at Venice for Aparajito, Ray wrote the following, in an essay called Problems of a Bengali Film Maker: “There is no reason why we should not cash in on the foreigners’ curiosity about the Orient. But this must not mean pandering to their love of the false-exotic.

or the love of stuff which isn't as boring as shit. Aim always to be more boring than Tagore.  

A great many notions about our country and our people have to be dispelled, even though it may be easier and — from a film point of view — more paying to sustain tile existing myths than to demolish them.”

Even Ray put beautiful actresses into his films. This did create a myth that Indian women might be comely.  

Ray was not alone, of course, in pursuing such an approach. There have been several other eminent directors from India who have essentially followed the same route as Ray.

No. Ray was alone because the Government could not afford to subsidize a whole bunch of morons.  

As an old resident of Calcutta, I am proud of the fact that some of the particularly distinguished ones have come — like Ray — from this very city. (I think of Mrinal Sen, Rhtwik Ghatak, Aparna Sen and others.)

Sen and Ghatak are from East Bengal.  

But what Ray calls pandering to the “love of the false-exotic” has clearly tempted many other directors.

A Hollywood movie set in India- e.g. Octopussy or Temple of Doom- should feature snake-charmers and elephants and maharajas.  

Many Indian films that can fairly be called “entertainment movies” have achieved great success abroad,

only if they achieved even greater success in India.  

including in the Middle East and Africa, and Bombay has been a big influence on the cinematic world in many countries.

Not really. Other countries, including India, re-make South Korean movies like 'Old Boy'.  Nobody remakes Indian or Iranian or Nigerian films. 

It is not obvious whether the imaginary scenes of archaic splendor shown in such “entertainment movies” should be seen as mis-descriptions of the India in which they are allegedly set or as an excellent portrayal of some non-existent “never-never land” that is not to be confused with any real country.

This stupid cunt thinks everything he sees in films like 'Robin Hood' or 'Ten Commandments' is historically accurate. 


As Ray notes in another context, quite a few of these traditional Indian films, which attract large audiences, “do away wholly with the bothersome aspect of social identification” and “present a synthetic, nonexistent society, and one can speak of credibility only within the norms of this make-believe world.”

Ray presents a boring and stupid world. Apparently kids bought his detective stories and so he didn't starve.  

Ray suggests that this feature “accounts for their countrywide acceptance.” This is true; but this quality of make-believe also contributes greatly to the appeal of these films to some foreign audiences, which are happy to see lavish entertainment in an imagined land.

I think Indian music and the ugliness of most Indian men was a drawback. On the other hand, apparently Rajnikanth is big in Japan.  

This is an easily understandable “success” story: acceptance abroad brings both reputation and revenue.

No. In 1946, a Chetan Anand film based on a story by Maxim Gorki won a prize at Cannes. Anand didn't bother to release it in India because it was miserabilist shit.  

In contemporary India, where “export promotion” is becoming a supreme value, who can deny such an achievement?

Does Sen mean the 'NRI movie'? But they weren't art-movies. 

In fact, the exploitation of the biases and the vulnerabilities of the foreign audience need not be concerned specifically with the “love of the false-exotic.”

Indians weren't exporting exotic films. The Government did promote shite by Ray because they wanted their begging bowl refilled. Anyway, Indira had attended Shantiniketan and Ray was gentlemanly enough.  

Exploitation can take other forms — not necessarily false, nor especially exotic. There is nothing false about Indian poverty nor about the fact — remarkable to others — that Indians have learned to live normal lives in the midst of this poverty, taking little notice of the surrounding misery.

Because it isn't misery- to them.  

The graphic portrayal of extreme wretchedness, and of heartlessness towards the downtrodden, can itself be exploited, especially when supplemented by a goodly supply of vicious villains. At a sophisticated level, such exploitation can be seen even in Salaam Bombay!, the wonderfully successful film by Meera Nair.

Woody Allen & Bette Midler watch the movie in a mall and rush to the food court to stuff themselves. Nothing like a bit of Poverty porn to put you in the mood for a porterhouse.  

Nair’s film is powerfully constructed and deeply moving; and yet it mercilessly exploits not only the viewer’s sympathy and sentimentality, but also her interest in identifying “the villain of the piece” who might be blamed for all this suffering. Since Salaam Bombay! is full of villains, and of people totally lacking in sympathy and any sense of justice, the causes of the suffering portrayed in the film begin to look easily comprehensible even to distant foreigners.

The film isn't as boring as fuck. Nair is Punjabi, not Bengali. Sad.  

Given the lack of humanity around these Indian victims, what else can you expect? Nair’s kind of exploitation draws simultaneously on the common knowledge that India has much suffering and on the common comfort — for which there is a demanding seeing the faces of the “baddies” who are causing all this trouble, as in, say, American gangster movies. (This easy reliance on villains is less present in Nair’s subsequent film, Mississippi Masala, which raises some important and interesting issues of identity involving ex-Ugandans of Indian origin in the United States.)

It has Denzel. That's enough.  

At a more mundane level, City of Joy

which has Patrick Swayze. 

does the same with Calcutta, with clearly identified villains who have to be confronted. By contrast, even when Ray’s films

which have ugly actors. If he had put in a couple of good songs and kept the camera on Sharmila, he would have found a market.  

deal with problems that are just as intense (such as the coming of the Bengal famine in Ashani Sanket),

it is based on a Bibhuti story but is shit. Ray and Sen knew what caused the famine. It was also what caused the 1974 Bangladesh famine. Hiding the truth, showed they were 'Secular Socialists'.  

the comfort of a ready explanation through the presence of villains is avoided.

Those who stole the famine relief money weren't villains.  

In Ray’s films, villains are remarkably rare, almost absent.

Villains are interesting. Ray worked hard to be very very boring.  

When terrible things happen, there may be nobody clearly responsible.

But if someone is, you have an interesting story.  

And even when someone is clearly responsible, as Dayamoyee’s father-in-law most definitely is responsible for her predicament, and ultimately for her suicide, in Devi, he, too, is a victim, and by no means devoid of humane features.

The silly woman should just have got her father-in-law to transfer the property to her and then fuck off to Benares. Brahmo propaganda is as stupid as any other sort of propaganda but twice as boring.  

If Salaam Bombay! and City of Joy ultimately belong in the “cops and robbers” tradition (except that there are no “good cops” in Salaam Bombay!), the Ray films which portray tragedies have neither cops nor robbers. Ray chooses to convey something of the complexity of social situations that makes such tragedies hard to avoid, rather than to supply easy explanations in the greed, the cupidity and the cruelty of “bad” people.

He conveys his own stupidity.  

While Satyajit Ray insists on retaining the real cultural features of the society that he portrays, his view of India — even his view of Bengal — recognizes a complex reality, with immense heterogeneity at every level.

His films aren't complex. They are stupid. 

It is not the picture of a stylized East meeting a stereotypical West,

because the fucker wasn't making 'Passage to India'. He made stupid shit about stupid Bengalis who met other stupid Bengalis. 

which has been the stock-in-trade of so many recent writings critical of “Westernization” and “modernity.” Ray emphasized that the people who “inhabit” his films are complicated and extremely diverse.

They are boring and stupid.  

Sen quotes Ray

'Take a single province: Bengal. Or, better still, take the city of Calcutta where I live and work. Accents here vary between one neighbourhood and another. Every educated Bengali peppers his native speech with a sprinkling of English words and phrases. Dress is not standardized. Although women generally prefer the sari, men wear clothes, which reflect the style of the thirteenth century or conform to the directives of the latest Esquire. The contrast between the rich and the poor is proverbial. Teenagers do the twist and drink Coke, while the devout Brahmin takes a dip in the Ganges and chants his mantras to the rising sun.'

Ray forgets that there some intrinsically interesting people in Calcutta- e.g. a gangster who was also a  devout Brahmins, and police detectives who did the twist and drank coke while wearing Sari. What would be cool, is if there were an arranged marriage between them. 

It is important to note that the native culture which Ray stresses is not some pure vision of a tradition-bound society, but the heterogeneous lives and commitments of contemporary India.

Ray does not depict Islam as being part and parcel of 'native culture'. On the other hand, he does show women, but not men,  as wearing Saris. It is very important to note this.

The Indian who does the twist is as much there as the one who chants his mantras by the Ganges.

There were orthodox Brahmin film actors who danced the twist.  Actors tend to be superstitious. 

The recognition of this heterogeneity makes it immediately clear why Ray’s focus on local culture cannot be readily seen as an “anti-modern” move.

It can't be seen as modern. Ray was boring and old fashioned.  

“Our culture” can draw on “their culture” and “their culture” can draw on our culture.”

Nobody needed Ray's permission. He made shitty films. Nargis told him to go fuck himself. Bengalis of his own class might stick up for him but they can't point to any thing worthwhile in his oeuvre.  

The emphasis on the culture of the people who inhabit Ray’s films is in no way a denial of the legitimacy of the interest in things originating elsewhere.

It is a denial of the notion that Ray could stop being a boring shithead for even a second.  

Indeed, Ray recollects with evident joy the time when Calcutta was full of Western (including American) troops, in the winter of 1942: #Calcutta now being a base of operations of the war, Chowringhee was chock-a- block with GIs. The pavement book stalls displayed wafer-thin editions of Life and Time, and the jam-packed cinema showed the very latest films from Hollywood. While I sat at my office desk … my mind buzzed with the thoughts of the films I had been seeing. I never ceased to regret that while I had stood in the scorching summer sun in the wilds of Santiniketan sketching simul and palash in full bloom, Citizen Kane had come and gone, playing for just three days in the newest and biggest cinema in Calcutta.# This interest in things from elsewhere had begun a lot earlier. Ray’s engagement with Western classical music goes back to his youth, and his fascination with films preceded his involvement with music.

Ray liked movies. Everybody did. That's why the Cinema was a profitable industry. Sen is saying 'despite being Bengali, Ray was heterogeneous. Seriously, he wasn't constantly shoving things up his bum.'

In his posthumously published book, My Years with Apu: A Memoir Ray recollects: “I became a film fan while still at school. I avidly read Picturegoer and Photoplay, neglected my studies and gorged myself on Hollywood gossip purveyed by Hedda Hopper and Louella Parsons.

Okay. Maybe he wasn't really 'heterogenous'. Boys don't 'gorge on gossip'. Suddenly, hanging out with GIs doesn't sound quite so innocent.  

Deanna Derbin became a favourite not only because of her looks and her obvious gifts as an actress, but because of her lovely soprano voice. Also firm favourites were Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, all of whose films I saw several times just to learn the Irving Berlin and Jerome Kern tunes by heart.” Ray’s willingness to enjoy and to learn from things happening elsewhere in India or abroad is plentifully clear in how he chose to live and what he chose to do.

Why were his films so boring and stupid? Did Deanna Derbin or Ginger Rogers shit on the screen? 

(In addition to Ray’s own autobiographical accounts in Our Films, Their Films and My Years with Apu: A Memoir his involvements in ideas and arts from elsewhere are discussed in some detail in Andrew Robinson’s Satyajit Ray: The Inner Eye, which appeared in 1989.)

'The Inner Eye' was the title of  a short film Ray had made on a famous blind painter at Shantiniketan. Robinson, perhaps, was suggesting that Ray was a film-maker who like Benode Behari, had lost the ability to appreciate his own type of art in 1956 or thereabouts.  

When Ray describes what he learned as a student at Santiniketan, where he studied fine arts at Tagore’s distinguished center of education, the elements from home and abroad are well mixed together.

There was no art at Shantiniketan. After Okakura met Tagore, some started to filter in from Calcutta and Japan etc. But if people won't pay for art, it isn't art. It is ugly shit.  

He learned a great deal about India’s “artistic and musical heritage” (he got involved in Indian classical music, aside from being trained to paint in traditional Indian ways)

an Indian learned some Indian music. That shows India has universalism.  

and “far-eastern calligraphy” (particularly the use of “minimum brush strokes applied with maximum discipline”).

Japanese calligraphy. Since the Japs planned to take Bengal from the Brits, it makes sense for them to get the Bengalis to learn calligraphy.  

When his teacher, Nandalal Bose, a great artist and the leading light of the Bengal school, taught Ray to draw a tree

Ray had a degree in Economics from Presidency. Then his Mummy decided he needed to learn how to draw a tree.  

(“Not from the top downwards. A tree grows up, not down. The strokes must be from the base upwards…”), Bose was being critical of some Western conventions and introduced Ray to the styles and the traditions of China and Japan. (They got the tree right, Bose had decided.)

Ray was taught to draw Japanese tree. He was not taught to draw upside down tree because that is the tree Lord Krishna mentions in the Gita. Ray was secular boy.  

Ray does not hesitate to indicate how strongly Pather Panchali — the profound film that immediately made him a film maker of international distinction — was influenced by Vittorio De Sica’s The Bicycle Thief.

 But De Sica's film is dramatic. Ray's is boring shite. Okay Ravi Shankar's music is good and the cinematographer was very good. 

He saw Bicycle Thief within three days of arriving in London for a brief stay, and noted: “I knew immediately that if I ever made Pather Panchali — and the idea had been at the back of my mind for some time — I would make it in the same way, using natural locations and unknown actors.”

Rossellini was more important. 'Rome- Open City' & 'Germany- year zero' are harrowing. But his 'India-MatrBhumi' wasn't much watched. Still, it has elephants and is not boring shite. 

Despite this influence, Pather Panchali, of course, is a quintessentially Indian film,

boring Indian film 

in subject matter and in style, and yet a major inspiration came from an Italian film.

No. The idea of not having sets or actors came to Ray from Italian films shot just after the war. But Italians aren't boring as shit. Buddhijivis are.  

The Italian influence did not make Pather Panchali anything other than an Indian film; it simply helped to make it a great Indian film.

Only liked by Marie Seton who got Nehru to push the shitty thing abroad.  

The growing tendency in contemporary India to champion the need for an indigenous culture that has “resisted” external influences and borrowings lacks credibility as well as cogency.

If it lacks credibility that means no one believes there is any such 'growing tendency'. Sen is saying that he is getting at is false and insane.  

It has become quite common to cite the foreign origin of an idea or a tradition as an argument against its use, and this has been linked to an antimodernist priority.

Where has it become common? In Indian cinema? Fuck off! Nobody was saying you can't have a kung-fu type fight followed by a disco number.  

Thus, even a social analyst as acute as Partha Chatterjee

Sen thinks film producers care about that professors of useless shite 

finds it impossible to dismiss Benedict Anderon’s thesis linking nationalism and its “imagined communities” by referring to the Western origin of that “modular” form.

Sen means the reverse. Partha dismisses Anderson's stupid shite by shitting copiously.  

“I have a central objection to Anderson’s argument. If nationalisms in the rest of the world have to choose their imagined community from certain “modular” forms already made available to them by Europe and the Americas, what do they have left to imagine?”

Sodomy?  

Anderson’s concept of “the nation as an imagined community” may or may not have much to commend it

definitely sodomy. Partha fucks Anderson in the ass. Does Sen provide a reach-around? I imagine so. Academic communities are like that only.  

(I think that it does); but the fear that its Western origin would leave us without a model that is our “own” is a rather peculiar concern.

Sen forgets that Indonesia and India were both colonized by Western nations. It might be worth having one's own definition of nation just in case it once again becomes profitable to colonize these two countries. 

The crucial concept here is oikeiosis which is based on uncorrelated asymmetries. If you belong to a particular family or community by reason of biology, it is worthwhile having an emic understanding of it. Behaving like a fucking Martian anthropologist will get you laughed at if it doesn't invite physical attacks. Nehru may have imagined India to be Secular rather than Hindu. But this meant China could attack it because if Indians aren't Hindu why the fuck would they bother to defend territory? Moreover, if China stamps out Buddhism in Tibet, obviously, the secular Indians would want the Chinese to move further south and suppress Hinduism. Indeed, there were Bengalis who said 'China's chairman is our chairman'. Ray said he admired their courage (they were killing policemen) though they showed little after the police started slaughtering them. 

Indian culture, as it has evolved, has always been prepared to absorb materials and ideas from elsewhere.

Sen means the country got invaded a lot. But it didn't absorb shit. England was the leading naval power. India didn't absorb any fucking interest, let alone skill, in maritime matters.  

Satyajit Ray’s heterodoxy is not out of line with our tradition.

He was stupid, boring and bigoted just like Sen, Tagore etc.  

Even in matters of day-to-day living: the fact that the chili, a basic ingredient of traditional Indian cooking, was brought to India by the Portuguese from the “New World” does not make Indian cooking any less Indian.

Ingredients don't alter the nature of a cuisine. It is the method of preparation which matters.  

Indeed, chili has now become an “Indian” spice.

India grows some chilis. They are referred to as domestically produced ingredients. But Indian cuisine can be prepared with types of chili not grown in India.  

Of course, cultural influences are a two way process: India may have acquired the chili from abroad, but we have also given the world the benefits of our culinary traditions.

A culinary tradition is independent of ingredients used.  Indian restaurants were set up abroad either by immigrants or local entrepreneurs. Those restaurants may use local ingredients. A dish originally from India may morph into something very different- e.g. Japanese 'curry'. 

While tandoori came from the Middle East to India, it is in its Indian form that tandoori has become a staple British diet. In London last summer I heard something described as being “as English as daffodils or chicken tikka masala.”

Back then, there were more Indian takeaways. This was a 'supply side' fad.  

The mixture of traditions that underlie the major intellectual developments in the world dictates strongly against taking a “national” (or “regional” or “local” or “community-based”) view of these developments.

They are irrelevant. Ray was promoted by the Indian government, not that of China. He was 'national' so long as Nehru or Indira was in charge. But Nehru had brought in Rossellini and Seton to improve the Government's 'Films Division'. Had Ray started making films in Hollywood, we could say he was 'cosmopolitan' or 'universal' rather than parochial.  

The role of mixed heritage in a subject such as mathematics, for example, is well-known.

It is irrelevant. There is no fucking mixed heritage now.  

The interlinkage between Indian, Arabic and European mathematics has been particularly significant in the development of what is now called Western mathematics.

It didn't matter in the slightest.  

These connections are beautifully illustrated by the origin of the term “sine” in Western trigonometry.

But those connections are irrelevant to learning mathematics or advancing its frontiers.  

That modern term came to India through the British, and yet in its genesis there is a remarkable Indian component. Aryabhata, an Indian mathematician and astronomer who lived in the fifth and early sixth centuries, discussed the concept of “sine,” and called it Jyanardha, or “half-chord,” in Sanskrit. From there the term migrated in an interesting way, as Howard Eves describes in An Introduction to the History of Mathematics: “Aryabhata called it ardha-jya (“half-chord”) and jya-ardha (“chord-half”), and then abbreviated the term by simply using jya (“chord”). From jya the Arabs phonetically derived jiba, which, following Arabic practice of omitting vowels, was written as jb. Now jiba, aside from its technical significance, is a meaningless word in Arabic. Later writers who came across jb as an abbreviation for the meaningless word Jiba substituted Jaib instead, which contains the same letters, and is a good Arabic word meaning “cove” or “bay.” Still later, Gherardo of Cremona (ca. 1150), when he made his translations from the Arabic, replaced the Arabian jaib by its Latin equivalent, sinus [meaning a cove or a bay], from whence came our present word sine. ” Given the and intellectual interconnections, the question of what is “Western” and what is “Eastern” (or Indian) is often hard to decide, and the issue can be discussed only in dialectical terms. The characterization of an idea as “purely Western” or “purely Indian” can be very illusory. The origin of ideas is not the kind of thing to which “purity” happens easily.

However, as Sen himself admits, nobody in India practices 'Indian' mathematics. Only Western mathematics is used. Nowadays, almost all papers are written in English. 

 


This issue has some practical importance now, given the political developments of the last decade, including the increase in the strength of political parties focusing on the Indian — particularly the Hindu — heritage.

Sen thought the BJP would insist that Indians write math papers in Sanskrit. He was wrong. 

There is an important aspect of anti-modernism, which tends to question, explicitly or implicitly, the emphasis to be placed on what is called “Western science.” If the challenges from traditional conservatism grow, this can become quite a threat to scientific education in India, affecting what young Indians are encouraged to learn, and how much emphasis is put on science in the general curriculum.

If the challenge from the nationalists hadn't grown, nutters like Sen would have insisted that all Indian universities, not just Nalanda, should give diplomatic immunity to Naxalites or ISIS terrorists.  

The reasoning behind this “anti-foreign” attitude is flawed in several ways. First,

it objects to being conquered and enslaved.  

so-called “Western science” is not the special possession of Europe and America.

Nor is Eastern wisdom. You can buy both but investing in the former is vital. The latter is shite.  

It is true that, since the Renaissance, the Industrial Revolution, and the Enlightenment, most scientific progress has occurred in the West; but these scientific developments drew substantially on earlier work in mathematics and science done by the Arabs, the Chinese, the Indians, and others. The term “Western science” is misleading in this respect, and misguided in its tendency to establish a distance between non-Western people and the pursuit of mathematics and science

Similarly the term 'Europe' is misleading because it establishes a distance between people who don't live in Europe and those who do. The plain fact is, if you are genuinely 'pursuing' mathematics and science, you don't give a fuck where it comes from. Still, it is true that if you relabel 'Chemistry' as 'Girlie-twirly fun-fun', more girls will take it up. That's what happened to Mrs. Thatcher. Later she stopped being an industrial character because training to be a barrister had been relabeled 'Vagina maintenance for posh bints'. Similarly, she only became Prime Minister after Number 10 Downing Street was redesignated as a powder room.  

Second, irrespective of the location of the discoveries and the inventions, the methods of reasoning used in science and mathematics give them some independence of local geography and cultural history. To be sure, there are important issues of local knowledge, and of the varying perspectives regarding what is or is not important; but there is still much of substance that is shared in methods of argument, demonstration, and the scrutiny of evidence. The term “Western science” is misleading in this respect, too.

Which is why this nutter keeps using that term.  

Third, our decisions about the future need not be parasitic on the past we have experienced. Even if there were no Asian or Indian component in the evolution of contemporary mathematics and science — this is not the case, but even if it were the case — their importance in the contemporary India need not be deeply undermined for that reason.

If there is no indigenous component in the evolution of a discipline of vital importance, then the thing must be imported wholesale. If this is not done, the thing will only be important in the sense of representing a deficiency which endangers the country. 

Rabindranath Tagore nicely illustrated the tyranny of being bound to the past in his amusing but profoundly serious short story Kartar Bhoot (“The Ghost of the Leader”), in which the wishes of the respected but dead leader make the lives of others impossibly constrained.

Tagore is Sen and Ray's Kartar Bhoot. He was boring and stupid. They were boring and stupid. But he was pro-Hindu. They were anti-Hindu. This is because they were sucking up to a different dynasty.  

There is a similar issue, to which I referred earlier, about the role of “modernity” in contemporary India.

Ray wasn't modern. He was as boring as shit.  

The recent attacks on modernity (especially on a “modernity” that is seen as coming to India from the West) draw greatly on the literature of “post-modernism” and on similar approaches that have been quite influential in Western literary and cultural circles, and in India, too.

Post-modernism was about rejecting grand narratives which were as boring as shit. You could 'mix & match' provided you were entertaining. Sadly, post-colonial studies wasn't entertaining. It was stupid and boring sit.  

There is something interesting in this dual role of the West, the colonial metropolis supplying ideas to post-colonial intellectuals to attack the influence of the colonial metropolis; but there is no contradiction here.

Stupidity involves no contradiction. Ray and Sen gathered up a lot of international accolades not because they were any good but because they were Indian and showed that India is a shithole.  

 Which brings us back to Satyajit Ray. His delicate portrayal of very different types that make us what we are cannot be matched.

Sen is lying. Bengalis do that to boost fellow Bengalis- provided those Bengalis are as boring as shit.  

Reflecting on what to include in his films,

after excluding anything interesting 

he posed the problem beautifully:

'What should you put in your films? What can you leave out? Would you leave the city behind and go to the village where cows graze in the endless fields and the shepherd plays the flute? You can make a film here that would be pure and fresh and have the delicate rhythm of a boatman’s song. Or would you rather go back in time — way back to the Epics, where the gods and demons took sides in the great battle where brother killed brother and Lord Krishna revivified a desolate prince with the words of the Gita? One could do exciting things here, using the great mimetic tradition of Kathakali, as the Japanese use their Noh and Kabuki. Or would you rather stay where you are, right in the present, in the heart of this monstrous, teeming, bewildering city, and try to orchestrate its dizzying contrasts of sight and sound and milieu?'

We get it. Ray was a blathershite.  

The celebration of these differences — the “dizzying contrasts” — is far from what can be found in labored generalizations about the unique and fragile purity of “our culture,” and in the vigorous pleas to keep “our culture”, “our modernity”, immune from “their culture”, “their modernity.”

Sen is only praising Ray because he is a fellow boring shithead of a Shantiniketan alumni who rose under the Dynasty.  

In our heterogeneity, and in our openness, lies our pride, not our disgrace. Satyajit Ray taught us this, and the lesson is profoundly important for India. And for Asia, and for the world.

Sen and Ray thought India's pride lay in getting fucked in the ass by the Chinese. Watch Kanchenjunga and you can see why Asia and the world might have rejoiced when the Reds poured into Assam. Hopefully, Sen will live long enough to watch Mamta turn West Bengal into a no-go zone for Hindus. Then his cup of joy will overflow.