The 1967 novel ‘Rukogi Nahi, Radhika?’ by Usha Priyamvada offers a peak into the lives of urban women and families in the sixties. 56 years later, this captivating piece of literature has been reborn as ‘Won’t You Stay, Radhika?’ thanks to the translation efforts of Daisy Rockwell, following her prestigious 2022 International Booker Prize win for Geetanjali Shree’s ‘Tomb of Sand.’
The story revolves around Radhika, whose world is shattered when her widowed father remarries. The emotional and intellectual bond she shared with him since her mother’s death seems to have hit pause with this sudden marriage. In an attempt to escape the turmoil at home, Radhika moves to Chicago to pursue her master’s degree in fine arts.
However, Radhika’s return to India is marked by alienation, a sentiment often explored in Hindi literature of the 1960s. Radhika’s sense of belonging leaves her in constant emotional limbo and is especially a point of critical exploration of the book. And she soon realises that nothing has changed in her homeland. That’s where the book starts, and from there, it explores the ‘stifling and narrow-minded social ideals that continue to trap so many Indian women in the complex web of individual freedom and social and familial obligation.’
What I liked
The novel is rooted in many questions: What does it mean to be an urban Indian woman who doesn’t want to adhere to existing societal structures? What does belonging, or the lack of it, feel like – especially when you’ve visited more than your homeland? What does an individual miss when away from their homeland? What is our relationship with boredom, leisure and ennui in our lives? And so many more.
Radhika is indecisive, sometimes overwhelmed by her own boredom, but strangely firm and calculated in what she does. The book’s exploration of ennui, ‘something weightier than boredom,’ as Daisy points out, truly stood out for me. “As days pass, Radhika is paralysed with ennui, which tinges all her relationships-romantic or filial. So she lies on her takht, bored, immobile, uninspired…” It’s a hard theme that is rarely explored. And it somehow feels even better to know that a Hindi text initially explored it, given it’s a language I’ve grown up with. When I was finished with the book, I also found myself thinking about this line that Daisy said early on in her note, “As I edited draft after draft, I felt Radhika’s ennui dragging me down as well.” If not this, what’s a job well done?
The novel lasts some 184 pages. For a short novel to constantly move between cultures, cities and people, ‘Won’t You Stay, Radhika?’ does a commendable job of swiftly moving through scenes and scenarios and is easy on the eyes. I also love how the author’s voice, hence the writing, is clear and seemingly straightforward. What’s better is that it proves again how the simplicity of the language in no way determines the quality of the conversation and exploration in the book. As Daisy points out, “As readers, we are impoverished by the narrowness of the emotions a female character is allowed to experience.” ‘Won’t You Stay, Radhika?’ does a good job of challenging this reality.
It is further interesting to see how the novel has aged in its exploration of our connection, belonging and unbelonging in our homeland. The book was written in the sixties. As more of us move abroad and ponder about our roots and belonging, the book presents the reader with a solid base to contemplate further on. And leaves ample space for the reader to form their own ideas around geographies and identities.
However, there is one thing I found unsettling. The book discusses Radhika’s alleged Electra complex and her reaction to her father’s remarriage almost individually, as two different singularities in Radhika’s life. And maybe that’s an intentional choice. But Radhika’s reaction to the marriage is also indicative of how she’s feeling about her father’s partner, Vidya, who is her age and as non-maternal as it could get. On some pages, I also got the feeling that Radhika is fairly inactive and indecisive on an issue that forms the bedrock of her turmoil, i.e. the father’s marriage. “She hoped Papa would perhaps tell her to stay when he heard she was leaving. Maybe he’d say that Radhika should stay with him and help him.” Maybe these are vacuums that the author intentionally wanted to leave open for the readers.
All said and done, I did like the novel. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention how lovely the book design is and how it felt like home.
Translations and literature
As pointed out by many reviews earlier, the translator’s note is critical to the story. In the note, Daisy takes us through the different aspects that come together to become Radhika, our protagonist in the novel. Translator notes are my favourite. A translated book sometimes feels like having an additional character in the novel – the character being the translator’s voice. That’s quite lovely.
Only recently have we truly started realising the value of South Asian literature in translation, and I’m so happy to see ‘Won’t You Stay, Radhika?’ being translated. Because when that happens, novels like ‘Won’t You Stay, Radhika?’ see the light of day and, in fact, even reinforce the idea that we have a ton of good literature in and around us.
Maybe go read that book in your mother tongue you’ve been postponing for a while.
This book has been published by Speaking Tiger Books. Follow them on YKA here.
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