“Mohona”—where the Rivers of Literature meet

October 11, 2021
• Literary Theory, Book Analysis

Histories, myths, and legends have always been a fundamental part of human existence. The American psychologist Rollo May once said, “a myth is a way of making sense in a senseless world. Myths are narrative patterns that give significance to our existence.”¹ So it is not a surprise that in telling stories, mythology and history both play a significant role in literature. Few books are more representative of this fact than Amitav Ghosh’s “The Hungry Tide”—a confluence (a “mohona”²) of the flow of reality, local myths, and (post-)colonial histories that come together forming the flowing river, rising and falling with the turn of the tide, that is the story of the Sundarbans.  

While history and myths appear to be radically incompatible, appearing as alternate systems to interpret the past, Ghosh doesn’t shy away from this contrast. Instead, he uses it to weave the picture of a world where they are so entangled that it is hard to know where one ends and the other begins. This paradoxical symbiosis is best exemplified in the character that is Nirmal—his experiences and his beliefs. Even before we meet him, we see his writings seamlessly connect, through metaphors, the legend of the origin of the Ganga to the very real tangle of ever-changing rivers and waterways of the tide-country.

 We are introduced to Nirmal as a man with “wide, wondering eyes”³, a past leftist, a learned man who lived as a principal at a small school in the “farthest of the inhabited islands”⁴ in the Sundarbans. Despite his western education, Nirmal didn’t see the folklore of the Sundarbans any less valuable, going so far as to connecting myths and geology (“yugas” and “epochs”)⁵ using stories of goddesses and epics to pique the curiosity of children. At the same time, we see that Nirmal also draws out stories from the past, such as Mr. Piddingtons’ warnings⁶ and the numerous incidents of the “badh” breaking⁷, utilizing the many histories around them to guide the younger generation in the form of Kanai and Fokir. Interestingly, Nirmal’s stories about a huge wave that hit the Sundarbans in 1737⁷ and the cyclone that destroyed Port Canning6 almost become supernatural omens that presage the events leading to Fokir’s ultimate demise. 

But still, it would be wrong to say these ideas were without conflict in his mind as is apparent from his dismissal of ‘Bon-bibi’ as “false consciousness”⁸ while at the same time childing Kanai about this cynicism about Horen’s mention of the same myth⁹. Further, his conversation with Horen about Bernier’s experience getting lost in a storm makes it clear that at the end of the day, he rejected mythology (“Dokkhin Rai and his demons”¹⁰) in favor of a scientific explanation (“an atmospheric disturbance”¹⁰). However, he does reach a realization that “the chimerical line [that separated Bon-bibi and Dokkhin Rai’s domain] was, to [Kusum] and to Horen, as real as a barbed-wire fence might be to [him]”¹¹. Nirmal didn’t hesitate to use the interplay of different knowledge systems, but only when it helped his point; however, he finds it impossible to deny the lore outright, realizing it is inseparable from the subjective reality of life in the Sundarbans. 

Further, through Nirmal, we find Sir Daniel’s project in the tide country of a colonial past whose remnants still exist today as the names of settlements, juxtaposed with the Dalit nation in building by the predominantly Bangladeshi refugees at Morichjhapi. As Kanai reads his letter, we are thrown back to the horrifying developments of events at Morichjhapi that culminated in the death of Kusum and, in a way, Nirmal. In reading Nirmal’s first-hand perspective of the siege, we find ourselves deeply influenced by the narrative—angered at the police’s abuse, revolutionized by the calls of “Morichjhapi chharbona”¹², and moved to tears with Kusum or when we realize the depth of Nirmal’s conviction to “make sure at least that what happened here leaves some trace, some hold upon the memory of the world.”¹³ Words emerge as the unifier of history and reality, moving our hearts with their flow.

However, Nirmal’s accounts are not the only juxtaposition of mythology, history, and realism. For example, consider the story of Dukhey, Bon-bibi, and Dokkhin Rai. This single piece of mythology influences the lives of many of the characters, particularly Kusum, Horen, and Fokir. Kusum, as a child, lost her father to a man-eater and ended up forming a deep emotional connection to this legend; the difference, Bon-bibi never came to protect them despite her desperate prayers¹⁴, separating myths from reality. It is fascinating however, that she still does not reject “The Glory of Bon-bibi” outright, possibly rationalizing it, as Horen did, with a greater destiny and Bon-bibi’s will¹⁴. She even goes ahead to instill upon her child, Fokir, the same beliefs, rituals of Bon-bibi puja, and Bon-bibi’s song that became a part of him¹⁵, which consequently leads to Fokir bringing Piya to Garjontola, where she encountered the Orcaella. Furthermore, through the syncretic convergence of Islam and Hinduism in the legend and worship of Bon-bibi¹⁵, this same myth serves another purpose, which is to establish the multicultural reality of the tide-country.  

Even the object of Piya’s study, the Orcaella, is not exempt from this interplay of narratives. We learn through Piya many details about the history of this cetacean species—its discovery and the amusing story behind its naming. Notably, we see that Piya calls her trip to Kolkata “a cetacean pilgrimage”¹⁶ in the way of paying respect to the efforts of the past scientists who laid the foundation for her work. An interesting parallel emerges to Fokir’s ‘pilgrimage’ to Garjontola¹⁷, where the same dolphins play a more mythical role as the messengers of Bon-bibi, “[her] ears and [her] eyes”¹⁸, a tale that has been passed on in his family ever since Kusum’s father, his grandfather, was delivered from a storm with the company of a congregation of dolphins. 

What Piya, with her researcher’s lens, saw as foraging and homing behavior, a novel scientific discovery, Fokir interpreted as the Bon-bibi’s messengers scattering through the forest and returning to her with news since time immemorial¹⁹. This comparison between two distinct yet connected systems of thought brings to focus how one’s lens changes not only the meaning of the knowledge but also the knowledge itself, where the complete picture can only be seen in the meshwork of different narratives that Ghosh presents to us.

Barthes once noted, “What the world supplies to myth are a historical reality, defined, even if this goes back quite a while, by the way in which men have produced or used it;  and what myth gives in return is a natural image of this reality.”²⁰ In closing, Ghosh, through his beautiful yet insightful portrayal of the Sundarbans, its people, and their interactions with the greater world in “The Hungry Tide”, convinces us of the fact that myths do not exist independent of history, and it is their communion that creates the lens through which people see reality. It even manages to relate to us the reality of immigration politics, socially exclusionary conservation efforts, and the casteism of post-colonial India through its dark, almost forgotten history. That, in my opinion, is the power of literature.

References:

1. A quote by Rollo May. https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/279209-a-myth-is-a-way-of-making-sense-in-a.

2. pg 8. the tide country. Ghosh, A. The hungry tide. (Penguin Random House India, 2019).

3. pg 19. canning. Ghosh, A. The hungry tide. (Penguin Random House India, 2019).

4. pg 13. an invitation. Ghosh, A. The hungry tide. (Penguin Random House India, 2019).

5. pg 192. beginning again. Ghosh, A. The hungry tide. (Penguin Random House India, 2019).

6. pg 306-310. a post office on sunday. Ghosh, A. The hungry tide. (Penguin Random House India, 2019).

7. pg 217. storms. Ghosh, A. The hungry tide. (Penguin Random House India, 2019).

8. pg 107. the glory of bon bibi. Ghosh, A. The hungry tide. (Penguin Random House India, 2019).

9. pg 30. canning. Ghosh, A. The hungry tide. (Penguin Random House India, 2019).

10. pg 156. travels. Ghosh, A. The hungry tide. (Penguin Random House India, 2019).

11. pg 241. transformation. Ghosh, A. The hungry tide. (Penguin Random House India, 2019).

12. pg 276. besieged. Ghosh, A. The hungry tide. (Penguin Random House India, 2019).

13. pg 74. the letter. Ghosh, A. The hungry tide. (Penguin Random House India, 2019).

14. pg 113-115. the glory of bon bibi. Ghosh, A. The hungry tide. (Penguin Random House India, 2019).

15. pg 265-268. memory. Ghosh, A. The hungry tide. (Penguin Random House India, 2019).

16. pg 244. a pilgrimage. Ghosh, A. The hungry tide. (Penguin Random House India, 2019).

17. pg 333. mr sloane. Ghosh, A. The hungry tide. (Penguin Random House India, 2019).

18. pg 252. destiny. Ghosh, A. The hungry tide. (Penguin Random House India, 2019).

19. pg 332. mr sloane. Ghosh, A. The hungry tide. (Penguin Random House India, 2019).

20. Barthes, R. Mythologies. (Hill and Wang, 1972).