A trilogy that celebrates the god of language
“What I feel about language is devotion,” says poet and novelist Kala Krishnan at the release of her novel Theivanai, the second part of her planned trilogy about the god Murugan, the son of Shiva and Parvati and the brother of Ganesha. At the launch, held at Atta Galatta recently, the author spoke to her editor Ajitha GS, Publisher, Context, an imprint of Westland Books, about her love for this god of both war and language. “I am devoted to Murugan. It is difficult not to as it appears in the books,” she says, pointing out that because he is immersed in the language and offers this whole treasury of language and poetry, “in the writing, I become more devoted to him.”
Over a freewheeling discussion, interspersed by readings from the book, the two spoke about numerous things that shaped Kala’s Murugan universe, including her love for Tamil, her relationship with prose and poetry, her awe for the Sangam literary tradition and how music helps her write better. “How is the writing of prose and poetry different?” asks Ajitha at the event, to which Kala admits that she finds writing prose tedious and boring at times. “Poetry is a bit like being on the edge of a sword…(there is) the thrill and excitement that sustains the writing,” she says, adding that with prose, she feels that she is stretching things and taking up too much space.
Ajitha clearly disagrees. At the launch, she describes Kala’s prose as “poetic”, so visual and detailed that it would be easy to make a movie. Despite this, however, as Ajitha points out, no poetry enters the book, even when the book’s various characters are reciting verse. “I thought that this is particularly well done in the assembly,” she says, referring to a scene in the book where several poets are being judged at a contest. “I thought it was remarkable that Kala evoked poetry through the prose, but there is not a verse in that,” she says.
In response, Kala talks about the magnificence of Sangam literature and how she has read the work of the poets of this tradition. Although she thought it would be nice for the reader to imagine what it may have been like, “I did not want to dare put verses in their mouths,” says Kala, who is already working on the next part of the trilogy.
Other ideas discussed included how music makes her more daring, the playfulness of her writing, and the importance of language in these troubled times. “What does the god of language do?” Ajitha asks Kala, to which she responds, “He pursues fools like me who will devote themselves to language.”
Language and giving oneself to it, she believes, is more crucial now than ever before because, “The times we live in demand that we be precise and particular and say what side we are on. It makes us afraid to be helpless in the face of language.” And yet, this helplessness and uncertainty help make one more attentive, she believes. “Mythology is a really crucial companion to theory because it makes you uncertain, loosens you up and sets you afloat somewhere,” says Kala.