Image Credit: simplybooksI am still in my Indian books phase and I am enjoying it. I am also going for my very first book club discussion soon and that’s another reason why I read Vikram Sampath’s “My Name is Gauhar Jaan!” I am pretty excited about the meeting and I am looking forward to it since the author himself is going to be present! But Gauhar Jaan is not an easy subject to discuss, a fact made evident in Sampath’s novel. Here is an introduction to the book, before I go into my review:
Born as Eileen Angelina Yeoward, an Armenian Christian who later converted to Islam, Gauhar Jaan was a naturally gifted musician with a wide repertoire. One of the earliest women artistes who seized opportunity that came with the advent of recording technology, hers was the first Indian voice to be recorded in 1902. In her illustrious career she cut close to 600 records.
The book traces the story of her life with all its attendant myths, legends and folklore, some of which are recorded, some apocryphal; as well as the times during which she lived and made exquisite music.
I was immediately pulled in by this enticing snippet that was presented on the book jacket. The book begins with Gauhar’s birth in 19th century India, a time of intermarriages, when it was a matter of pride to have an Englishman as your husband although “both parties knew that impermanence was inherent in the relationship." So it is that Hardy Hemmings “picked up a young, gentle and petite Indian lady,” named Rukmani as his wife. Years later, Rukmani’s daughter Victoria married an Armenian gentleman named Robert and Angelina was born to them. While navigating the sharp curves that life threw at them, Victoria and Angelina had to convert to Islam and thus were renamed as Badi Malka Jaan and Gauhar Jaan respectively.
From here we take a sharp turn too, into the rich and intricate world of Hindustani (classical Indian) music. Sampath opens the doors to the music scene in India at that time, where it was considered an honor to be invited to be part of a musical gathering, where music was revered as a divine gift. At the same time, music was also an element that divided as well as unified society. Being a famous ‘tawaif’ or courtesan well versed in music, which Gauhar Jaan was, meant power, position and wealth.
“It is interesting to note that only the names of tawaifs figure among the women tax-payers of the times, proving that they were the only female property owners of those days. Thus, at time when most women in India were illiterate, the tawaifs were accomplished in the fine arts and were skilled poets, authors, musicians and dancers themselves.”
Yet paradoxically, it also meant living on the margins of mainstream society, in a different world, coping with the inherent loneliness that comes with roosting on a pedestal. Although tawaifs were invited for performances by kings, Nawabs and other royal personalities, society as a whole shunned them, especially people from “respectable” families.
Music is also seductive in more ways than one. Gauhar Jaan’s lush songs, expertly sung with feeling and charm, made her a much sought after musician and woman. Gauhar’s life was molded by her music and by the people that were attracted to her like moths to a flame. But sadly, the moths remained unharmed. Gauhar’s vulnerable and trusting personality got her entangled in various relationships. While they lasted, she experienced some of the happiest times in her life. But just as soon, one after another, none of the men in whom Gauhar had placed her trust upheld her love. Outwardly, even as Gauhar shone in her performances, inwardly she crumbled with insecurities as she grew older.
There is also the other side of Gauhar’s personality, which Sampath brings alive through small snippets and anecdotes. One of my favorites was the passage that described Gauhar whooshing past the streets of Calcutta in a six horse drawn carriage. Once the Governor’s entourage passed by hers and thinking that it belonged to royalty, the Governor doffed his hat and bowed. But when he learnt that it was only Gauhar, he slapped a fine of Rs. 1000 ($20) on her because commoners were not allowed to ride in a six-horse carriage.
“But Gauhar was not the one to care about such authoritarian dictates. She continued to flout the rule, pay the thousand rupee fine, and yet go on with her evening rides. Such was her spirit!”
Another story that showed Gauhar’s hedonistic lifestyle and arrogant attitude was the way she celebrated the wedding of her pet cat. It is alleged that she hosted a party for the entire city of Calcutta that cost her Rs. 20,000 (a little over $400).
Such stories not only make the book an entertaining read but also provide an insight into the different layers of Gauhar’s personality. She was large hearted enough to teach youngsters purely for the love of teaching and she was a shrewd businesswoman who kept her repertoire of songs in flux depending on her audience. Her sharp assessment of her audience ensured that she sang those songs that appealed most to them.
Apart from an understanding of Gauhar, Sampath’s painstaking research is evident in his detailed descriptions of the cities in which Gauhar lived, the milieu and the times that she was a part of. I now have a wonderful picture of 19th century Calcutta with its colorful people comprised of “Jews, Armenians and Portuguese” and of its crowded market places and narrow lanes.
Last but not the least is the music that pervades through My Name is Gauhar Jaan. Sampath takes us through the history of Indian music and its multifarious components. Even for someone like me who is not a fan of this genre of music, the facts that he presented were intriguing.
My Name is Gauhar Jaan, thus, is a meticulously researched book. But at times, I felt this was also a small shortcoming. Certain details could perhaps have been avoided, like the exact reproductions of court rulings for instance or expansive elaborations of the intricacies of ragas. I felt it derailed the smooth flow of the book and submerged its soul, even if only for a while.
But Gauhar is not one to be submerged for long. Her spirit rises above such small diversions, filling the book with her fiery self. The latter half of the book is the part I loved the best, because it is here that Sampath’s writing shines through as he heartrendingly portrays Gauhar’s wane with time. As I listened to Gauhar’s songs on the CD that helpfully comes with Sampath’s book, I could not help but feel a tug at my heart for this woman who lived her life surrounded by admirers and yet felt the chill of loneliness for the most part of her life until the end. The statement she makes at the end of each song, “My Name is Gauhar Jaan!” is almost like an assertion that says, “Don’t forget me!” And we shall not.
Verdict: An interesting sketch of the life and times of not only a musician but also of British India.
Rating: 3.7/5
Born as Eileen Angelina Yeoward, an Armenian Christian who later converted to Islam, Gauhar Jaan was a naturally gifted musician with a wide repertoire. One of the earliest women artistes who seized opportunity that came with the advent of recording technology, hers was the first Indian voice to be recorded in 1902. In her illustrious career she cut close to 600 records.
The book traces the story of her life with all its attendant myths, legends and folklore, some of which are recorded, some apocryphal; as well as the times during which she lived and made exquisite music.
I was immediately pulled in by this enticing snippet that was presented on the book jacket. The book begins with Gauhar’s birth in 19th century India, a time of intermarriages, when it was a matter of pride to have an Englishman as your husband although “both parties knew that impermanence was inherent in the relationship." So it is that Hardy Hemmings “picked up a young, gentle and petite Indian lady,” named Rukmani as his wife. Years later, Rukmani’s daughter Victoria married an Armenian gentleman named Robert and Angelina was born to them. While navigating the sharp curves that life threw at them, Victoria and Angelina had to convert to Islam and thus were renamed as Badi Malka Jaan and Gauhar Jaan respectively.
From here we take a sharp turn too, into the rich and intricate world of Hindustani (classical Indian) music. Sampath opens the doors to the music scene in India at that time, where it was considered an honor to be invited to be part of a musical gathering, where music was revered as a divine gift. At the same time, music was also an element that divided as well as unified society. Being a famous ‘tawaif’ or courtesan well versed in music, which Gauhar Jaan was, meant power, position and wealth.
“It is interesting to note that only the names of tawaifs figure among the women tax-payers of the times, proving that they were the only female property owners of those days. Thus, at time when most women in India were illiterate, the tawaifs were accomplished in the fine arts and were skilled poets, authors, musicians and dancers themselves.”
Yet paradoxically, it also meant living on the margins of mainstream society, in a different world, coping with the inherent loneliness that comes with roosting on a pedestal. Although tawaifs were invited for performances by kings, Nawabs and other royal personalities, society as a whole shunned them, especially people from “respectable” families.
Music is also seductive in more ways than one. Gauhar Jaan’s lush songs, expertly sung with feeling and charm, made her a much sought after musician and woman. Gauhar’s life was molded by her music and by the people that were attracted to her like moths to a flame. But sadly, the moths remained unharmed. Gauhar’s vulnerable and trusting personality got her entangled in various relationships. While they lasted, she experienced some of the happiest times in her life. But just as soon, one after another, none of the men in whom Gauhar had placed her trust upheld her love. Outwardly, even as Gauhar shone in her performances, inwardly she crumbled with insecurities as she grew older.
There is also the other side of Gauhar’s personality, which Sampath brings alive through small snippets and anecdotes. One of my favorites was the passage that described Gauhar whooshing past the streets of Calcutta in a six horse drawn carriage. Once the Governor’s entourage passed by hers and thinking that it belonged to royalty, the Governor doffed his hat and bowed. But when he learnt that it was only Gauhar, he slapped a fine of Rs. 1000 ($20) on her because commoners were not allowed to ride in a six-horse carriage.
“But Gauhar was not the one to care about such authoritarian dictates. She continued to flout the rule, pay the thousand rupee fine, and yet go on with her evening rides. Such was her spirit!”
Another story that showed Gauhar’s hedonistic lifestyle and arrogant attitude was the way she celebrated the wedding of her pet cat. It is alleged that she hosted a party for the entire city of Calcutta that cost her Rs. 20,000 (a little over $400).
Such stories not only make the book an entertaining read but also provide an insight into the different layers of Gauhar’s personality. She was large hearted enough to teach youngsters purely for the love of teaching and she was a shrewd businesswoman who kept her repertoire of songs in flux depending on her audience. Her sharp assessment of her audience ensured that she sang those songs that appealed most to them.
Apart from an understanding of Gauhar, Sampath’s painstaking research is evident in his detailed descriptions of the cities in which Gauhar lived, the milieu and the times that she was a part of. I now have a wonderful picture of 19th century Calcutta with its colorful people comprised of “Jews, Armenians and Portuguese” and of its crowded market places and narrow lanes.
Last but not the least is the music that pervades through My Name is Gauhar Jaan. Sampath takes us through the history of Indian music and its multifarious components. Even for someone like me who is not a fan of this genre of music, the facts that he presented were intriguing.
My Name is Gauhar Jaan, thus, is a meticulously researched book. But at times, I felt this was also a small shortcoming. Certain details could perhaps have been avoided, like the exact reproductions of court rulings for instance or expansive elaborations of the intricacies of ragas. I felt it derailed the smooth flow of the book and submerged its soul, even if only for a while.
But Gauhar is not one to be submerged for long. Her spirit rises above such small diversions, filling the book with her fiery self. The latter half of the book is the part I loved the best, because it is here that Sampath’s writing shines through as he heartrendingly portrays Gauhar’s wane with time. As I listened to Gauhar’s songs on the CD that helpfully comes with Sampath’s book, I could not help but feel a tug at my heart for this woman who lived her life surrounded by admirers and yet felt the chill of loneliness for the most part of her life until the end. The statement she makes at the end of each song, “My Name is Gauhar Jaan!” is almost like an assertion that says, “Don’t forget me!” And we shall not.
Verdict: An interesting sketch of the life and times of not only a musician but also of British India.
Rating: 3.7/5
Enjoyed that! Yes! the book needs wide publicity as its a great read!
ReplyDeleteThis is so good, Swati! I haven't finished the book yet and this review is making me impatient! Good Stuff!
ReplyDeleteWonderful review, Swati! Gauhar Jaan looks like a fascinating personality, and this book seems to do justice to this great musician. It is interesting to know that tawaifs were the only women of those days who owned property and hence paid taxes. Thanks for this wonderful review and for introducing us to this fascinating book. Hope you enjoy the book club meeting!
ReplyDeleteMarianne - Thanks, am happy you liked the review! :)
ReplyDeleteSneha - Thanks :) Do finish, am sure you will like it too :)
Vishy - Thanks, glad you liked the review :) yes she definitely is a fascinating personality. I am looking forward to discussing it tomorrow!