Thoughts on
Amartya Sen’s ‘The
Argumentative Indian’, part of my autobiography
The book is monumental in its effort, terrific in
its approach, stupendous in its research, awesome in its content, complicated
in its treatment, severely complex in its exposition, forceful in its argument.
After going through its pages, I realized I could appreciate someone’s work
without fully understanding it.
To my mind, however, it lacks three things:
1. Sen’s perspective on the argumentative tradition
excludes (ignores?) the Southern Indian
contribution.
2. More importantly, more fundamentally, the content
and its presentation lack simplicity and
directness.
The book is so scholarly that I get only a general drift of the ‘argument’ though
I
must say I
do possess a fairly good mastery of the English language and can fairly follow
a
serious
analysis.
The
demands the book makes on me are beyond my reach. Sen’s lexis, syntax and
content are
so heavily
pregnant they require constant verbal and mental gymnastics, which is tiring (and
can become
a tiresome exercise with time). The implications arising from the smooth blend
of
his
thoughts with those of others’, which occurs at almost every statement, slip through
my
fingers at
every step I take. Probably, he was so taken up with the ‘issues’ that it may
not have
occurred
to him that readers like me, who are not as enlightened, may want to read the book,
understand
its essence with and enjoy it through all the attendant paraphernalia.
The quotes, which are one too many I’m afraid,
mystify rather than simplify or clarify. Of
course,
the choice of how Sen wishes to express himself is solely his; he could’ve been
himself
but, he could’ve spoken as Sen, but. Yet he has chosen to engage himself in the
webs
of
multitude of scholars and thinkers and has thus become a willing prisoner and
consequently
becomes
delightfully incomprehensible. The ‘educated’ me feels glaringly helpless,
inadequate
and ‘un-read’. The reading is more a three hundred-and-odd-page struggle than an
enjoyment,
the statements and assertions being far too abstract.
So, the
implications (understand and enjoy) inherent
in Bibek Debroy’s wish—‘every Indian
should read this book’
(printed at the back cover of the Penguin 2005 edition)—which must
also be
Sen’s (why would he otherwise have the content printed)—may not be realised in
its
entirety.
3. Most importantly, most fundamentally, the book
leans and draws heavily on the heavy-
weights.
Theories and concepts abound but visibly absent are the key roles of the translator—
the common
man reflecting these through spontaneity; of course history is replete with
instances
that reveal ready responses to calls—cultural, social and political. Is it
because the
common man
doesn’t traverse the realm of ‘ideas’ (only through which Sen has planned his
grand
tour)?
These observations of mine may not be, I suspect, a lone
cry in the wilderness. Or for that matter they can be mine alone.
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