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The Language of Rabindranath IF Bengali has become a
world language transcending its form of a provincial sub-tongue, then at the
root of it there is Rabindranath. To-day its richness has become so common and
natural that we cannot conceive immediately that it was not so before Tagore's
mighty and ceaseless 'creation worked at it for half a century. I am not speaking
of the literature, I am speaking only of the richness
of the vocabulary, the diversity of the speech form, its modes and rhythms.
The capacity of a language lies in its power of expression, that is to say, how
many subjects can it express itself on and how appropriately? In the gradual
progression of the Bengali language Bankimchandra was one of the main and
foremost stepping-stones. But in Bankim's time Bengali was only in its
adolescence – at best, its early youth – its formation and movement were rather
narrow, experimental and prone to uncertainty. In Rabindranath we find it in
its full-blossoming, mature capacity, definiteness and diversified genius. The
growth and spread of Bengali has not reached its culmination, the process is
still in full swing. And I need not dwell here upon its still more advanced
stage and maturity in the future. Up to Bankim's time, the modern and therefore
somewhat European way of thought and expression did not come naturally to
Bengali – it became difficult, laboured, artificial:
e.g., 'An enquiry into the relation between other phenomena and human nature'
of Akshay Kumar Dutta or even 'Bodhodaya' of Ishwar Chandra. It was
Bankimchandra who was the
Page – 169 pioneer
in whose hand this line of development attained something like an ease and
naturalness of manner. Even then it was no better than a beginning. But to-day
Bengali possesses the capacity to express easily and adequately any literature
from Directly
– and more indirectly, that is to say, through an impalpable influence – it was
his personality that lay behind this achievement. Should
a catalogue be ever made of the new words coined by Rabindranath, it would be a
very instructive lesson. Numerous are the words – old words found only in the
dictionary – that he has made current coin. In the same way innumerable are
the words – used one time colloquially or in a regional dialect – that Rabindranath has elevated to the level of literary distinction.
Moreover, he had a special genius in coining words and that expressed a characteristic
trait of his creative genius. Primarily, his words seem to spring from the
heart, from the élan vital, natural to the Bengali consciousness. There
were two rocks on .his way to linguistic transformation. And he beautifully
escaped and eluded them both. On the one hand, there is no heaviness in him,
none of the massiveness of correct and flawless words composed by pedants and
grammarians. On the other hand, there is no grotesqueness, nothing of what
personal whim and. fancy and idiosyncrasy engender. If his words in their
structure break certain strict rules and regulations, they yet are quite in
tune with the inner nature and form of the language; if free, they are still natural.
Secondly, the grace and beauty of the words raise no question. A word, in
order to fulfil its role, must have an easy and inherent power of expression –
it must be living and full of vitality. Still more it must be sweet and
beautiful.
In the lexicography of Tagore all these qualities are
in abundance. Moreover, in his language there is nothing squalid, lifeless,
heavy, feeble, harsh and jarring to the ear; indeed,
his language is perfectly graceful, beautiful and nonpareil from all sides – "Graceful,
more graceful, the most beautiful surpassing all beautiful things." Tagore's
Goddess of speech is a pinnacled exquisiteness of beauty, harmony, balance and
skill. Bankim's language also is beautiful and graceful – it is not rough and
masculine; it is also charming but there is not in it such profusion,
intensity and almost exclusiveness of grace, sweetness, beauty and tenderness
as are found in Rabindranath. Prodigality, luxuriance and even complexity are
hall-marks of Tagore's style. Bankim's is more simple and straight and
transparent, less decorating and ambulating. There is in Bankim what is called
decorum, restraint, stability and clarity, qualities of the classics; he
reminds us of the French language – the French of Racine and Voltaire. In Rabindranath's
nature and atmosphere we find the blossoming heart of the Romantics. That is
why the manner of his expression is not so much simple arid straight as it is
skillful and ornamental. There is less of transparency than the play of hues.
Eloquence overweighs reticence. Echoes and pitches of many kinds of different
thoughts, sentiments and emotions intermingle – his language moves on
spreading all around, sparkling at every step. Subtlety of suggestion, irony
and obliquity, a lilting grace of movement carry us over, almost without our
knowing it, to the threshold of some other world. Rabindranath's style is
neither formed nor regulated by the laws and patterns of reason, the arguments
and counter-arguments of logic. It is an inherent discernment, the choice of a
deep and aspiring idealism, the poignant power of an intuition welling out of a
sensitive
Page – 171 heart,
that have given form and pace to his language. Reason or argument in itself
finds no room here. That is only an indirect support of a direct feeling, a
throb in vitality. This language has no love, no need for set rules, for a
prescribed technique, so that it may attain to a tranquil and peaceful gait. It
has need of emotion, impetus and sharpness. It is like the free stepping of a
lightning flare, as if an Urvasie dancing in Tagore's own hall of music. But
it does not mean that this language is overflowing with mere emotion. Here too
there is a regulated order and restraint. The ultimate growth and perfection of
a language has something of the rhythm of an athlete's body in movement – in
the steadied measure of the strides of a sprinter, for example. The
transparency of intelligence as reflected in the classical manner, the firmness
and fixity delivered by reason, the simplicity of syllogistic orderliness are
not to be found here. But in our poet's creation, even in his prose the logic
of intelligence may not be evident but there is a logic
of feeling which is still, cogent and convincing, yet more living and dynamic. As
regards the third creator of Bengali literature, I mean Saratchandra,
we may notice here the difference between him, and Tagore. The language of
Saratchandra is as straight, translucent and simple as that of Bankim; but
Bankim was not always averse to decoration and embellishment, whereas
Saratchandra was wholly without any ornamentation. But the demand of reason
and rationality is not the cause of Saratchandra's simplicity. It is because he
has shaped his language to suit the common thought, the available feeling, a natural life. But he has polished it in his own way and
made it extremely bright, often scintillating. With all its clarity and
directness Bankim's language is for the cultured mind – urban or metropolitan,
Saratchandra's manner can be called rural. It will be wrong to call it vulgar,
even in the Latin sense (plebeina or popular), that is, commonplace – or a
language of the country-side.
Page – 172 The similarity between
Saratchandra and Tagore is that both are progressive, rather very progressive,
speedy, rather very speedy, but there is a dissimilarity
in the manner of their progressiveness and speed. Tagore's Muse moves speedily
but in a zigzag way, observing all sides, throwing out various judgments and
opinions, scattering flashes all around. Here are all the playful lines of a
baroque painting at its best. Saratchandra goes straight to his goal – as
straight as it is possible for a romantic soul to be. He allows himself, we may
say, a curvilinear path, as that of an arrow heading direct towards its goal.
There is a vibration lent to it by the drive of a flashing I
spoke of Rabindranath's ornamentation. But we must bear in mind that this
ornament is not an ostentatious one. Not in the least heavy, loaded, luxurious
like that which an old-world beauty carried on her limbs; it is as light as the
jewellery which a belle puts on to-day. The tapestry of myriad forms has been
wrought in gold threads, made thin and fine and almost tenuous and yet firmly
holding together. This embroidery is beauteousness itself, for it is a work
subtle and refined and meant to be beautiful. It is a beauty requiring no
outer grandeur, no wrought-out gold and satin of volubility and rhetoric. It
bears in its own limbs, as it were, the glow of an
inherent grace and charm. To-day
the Bengali language is eager and zealous to go forward for an ever new
creation. It is quite natural that it may go astray at times in the hands of
many of its adorers. In this connection it is good to bear in mind and to
Page – 173 keep to the fore the example of Rabindranath as a supreme
exemplar even if one does not want to follow or imitate him. Rabindranath
himself has also created many new things from his aristocratic pedestal, even he came down and attempted the ultra-modern
style. But his speciality and power lie here that he has never transgressed the
limit of the beautiful and the appropriate. Besides, wherever or however far he
might have ranged, he has given beauty its supreme place. In following the new and modern
style he has founded everywhere beauty and bloom and fulfilment. And at the same
time he has laid bare his inner soul.
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