Moon Mountain

I picked up a copy of the graphic novel, Moon Mountain, a year ago, but got around to reading it only last week. Moon Mountain is an adaptation of Bibhutibhushan Bandopadhyay’s classic children’s book Chander Pahar (1937). I have always been fascinated by his Pather Panchali, especially his sensitive depiction of the unfortunate Durga. 

The art work of the graphic novel is dominated by dark colours, speaking of a brooding personality, and perilous adventures. At first glance, I wondered whether children would find it appealing, especially since the adaptation has stuck to the linear perspective employed by Bandopadhyay, and begun with Shankar’s disappointment at having to work at a dead-end job in a small town after his college years in the dazzling metropolis of early twentieth century Calcutta.

The story unravels rather slowly in the first few pages, but the action panels on page 2 provide us with a hint of the adventure to come. I especially liked the way in which the illustrator, Mukherjee, has made use of repeated figures to indicate the flow of time. Soon enough, a few pages later, our intrepid hero is in Uganda in East Africa, working for a construction company laying new railway lines.

Shankar faces many adventures both at the hand of predatory and dangerous animals. The excitement picks up when he rescues a veteran explorer, Diego Alvarez, who tells him of how he had traced the fabled diamond mines of Richtersveld. Soon enough, Shankar is infected with the gold-and-diamond fever, and he sets off with Diego to explore the wilderness, and also, find himself.

 Other than the protagonist, Shankar, a central character is Diego Alvarez. Like Kurtz of Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, Diego is a complex person who also believes in the Empire’s mission and modus operandi of claiming all that the natives own as his. Like a good coloniser, he even draws Shankar into the enterprise of the Empire. But during the resulting adventure, Shankar learns to think for himself and while he loves and respects Alvarez, chooses to strike out a path different from that of his mentor.  

It is interesting to note that while the author of the original text, Bibhutibhushan Bandopadhyay, had never travelled to Africa, he researched the place considerably. Thus, the narrative strikes very few false notes. 

When Bandopadhyay first published his novel, it seized the imagination of readers with its descriptions of Africa, its velds, its mountains, its wildlife and, of course, the allure of gold, silver – and diamonds! Chander Pahar was translated into English in 2002, reimagined as a film and as a graphic novel in 2013-14. 

The script for the graphic novel is by US-based Saurav Mohapatra and the illustrations are by Sayan Mukherjee. Children are sure to find this an enjoyable read.

(All the images are taken from the book)

Riddle of the Seventh Stone

Author: Monideepa Sahu

Publisher: Young Zubaan

For my first review, I am going to pick a book written by a dear friend, Monideepa. We met only once, a memorable evening under the banyan tree at St. Joseph's College, Bangalore, but have been in touch ever since. Here's to you, Moni, and to warm friendships!

Riddle of the Seventh Stone is set not in the privileged environs of a boarding school, an upper class household or an exotic land far away as with some other children’s books, but in the narrow bylanes of Avenue Road, Bangalore's congested and downmarket shopping area, where crowds swarm the footpaths. 

The protagonists of this marvellously entertaining book are a spider named Shashee and a rat named Rishabh, who live in the home of Leela and Deepak, a pair of orphaned twelve-year old twins and their grandparents. Thanks to some herbal magic, in a Cinderella sort of way, the spider and the rat turn into humans every morning and back into their arthropod and rodent selves at nightfall. Except that they would rather not become human. As Shashee puts it, “I'm Shashee, the aristocratic spider and winner of a dung medal in the Vermin Olympics”. Shashee and Rishabh use their twin lives to help the twins’ grandparents and their neighbours who are being threatened by a loan shark turned builder.

This first novel by Monideepa Sahu is an amazingly subversive novel. Alison Lurie writes that the sacred texts of childhood are actually quite subversive, for they give importance to all those things that adults are most likely to disapprove of. They celebrate day dreaming, cock a snook at adult institutions, mock adult pretensions, and do not moralize about those virtues and qualities most adults think every child should ideally possess. In this book, Sahu’s protagonist, Rishab struggles with Physics and Maths, and thinks he’s “nothing but a dumb failure”. Shashee is smart but loves to show off and taunt Rishab (“Slow-poke, pea-brain”).  Sahu however refuses to moralize, or judge her characters, and make them turn a new leaf. The vermin not only learn to speak up for themselves, they also learn to shape the world according to their needs. They organize rallies, have a parliament of rodents, and create and use vermin-mail.

In a Bengaluru that is being constantly “developed” and made into a shiny metropolis, Riddle of the Seventh Stone describes lovingly parts of old Bangalore with their little shops lit by a single light, and narrow roads dotted with ruminating cows, lined with hawkers selling everything from safety pins to second hand electric mixers. As a rat, Rishab scurries in gutters and into holes, drawn by the “heady aroma” of “heavenly garbage overflowing with vegetable peels and rotting scraps”.

Do they find the treasure? To whom does it belong? What happens to the loan shark? And what happens to Venkat Thatha and Ajji in whose home Shashee and Rishab live? Read this well-written, beautifully plotted book to find out.

                 

       

 Picture Courtesy: Young Zubaan, HuffingtonPost (Paul Fernandes)