“Never judge a book by its film”: Book reviews of two books on Mangal Pandey
This review appeared in HT.
Mangal Pandey: Brave Martyr or Accidental Hero?
By Rudranghsu Mukherjee
Penguin India; 110 pgs; Rs 150
Mangal Pandey: The true story of an Indian Revolutionary
by Amaresh Mishra
Rupa & Co.; 106 pgs; Rs 95
First of all, let’s breathe a sigh of relief. Neither of these two books belong to that accursed genre called ‘novelizations’. That is, neither is based on the film Mangal Pandey: The Rising, or has any connection with the movie, Unlike countless other novelizations of Hollywood (and now Bollywood) movies filling the shelves in bookstores–and the insides of trashcans, one hopes–each is an independently researched and written book that only happen to be published to coincide with the film’s release.
Both books are ‘quickies’, attempts by the authors and publishers to cash in on the possible success of the film. Their introductions admit as much, and for all the rush in getting these slim texts to publication, the speculation about what the film might be about is already obsolete, and unnecessary. It might have been better if the authors simply wrote the books and the publishers chose to publish them to coincide with the film’s release–or not. By pitching the books so close to the film’s potential viewership, they run the risk of seeming not just opportunistic, but half-baked.
In fact, at least one author, Amaresh Mishra, comes close to saying as much in his Introduction, when he admits that he was working on a much more ambitious history of the Mutiny in general–said book to be published sometime in 2006 by Rupa & Co.–when he heard about the film and decided it was vital to bring out this book to “answer the questions posed by the Mangal Pandey riddle”.
Sadly, with the film performing below expectations according to some trade and media pundits, that question doesn’t seem quite as urgent anymore. But those of us interested in more than just movie grosses might find it rewarding and insightful to glance through these two slender texts. If nothing else, they serve as valuable antidotes to the film, and for that reason alone, they’re well worth picking up.
Of the two books, the clear winner is Amaresh Mishra’s excellent volume. Mishra makes his motives clear at the very outset: to reclaim Indian history for Indians. Perhaps because of this, he is not content with merely recanting the incidents and circumstances that surrounded the little-recorded life of our “first freedom fighter”.
Instead, Mishra paints in admirably short yet detailed passages the milieu and culture of the period. The first chapter, ‘The North Indian Brahmin Ethos’ is itself worth the price of the book, effectively capturing in a few pages the mindset and conflicting influences of the time. Mishra then delves into a brief biographical reconstruction of Pandey’s life and history, boldly postulating his own conclusions about contentious details like the place of Pandey’s birth, the conflicting descriptions of Pandey’s famous ‘drugged’ attempt to rouse the sepoy guard at Barrackpore, and the very circumstances that led to the famous ‘rising’ itself. Mishra is proud to term the uprising ‘the first war of Indian Independence’ and offers succinct yet sufficient evidence to justify his choices.
All in all, Amaresh Mishra’s book on Mangal Pandey is an enjoyable read, providing much more detail and background than the film offered, while postulating a much larger web of events that rightfully deserves a place in the historical record. As even British historians like John Keay and Charles Allen admit today, there’s a pressing need to reclaim much of Indian history and revisit it through Indian sensibilities. Mishra’s excellent book is a minor yet vital part of that essential movement, and one looks forward to his larger book on the uprising next year.
In contrast, there’s really not much to say about Rudranghshu Mukherjee’s equally short but much less engaging book. Mukherjee’s introduction itself, rather than postulating an individual original theory of the subject matter, all but apologizes for producing the book itself, and admits that it’s based entirely on previous accounts. In fact, this lesser book is little more than a compilation of the historical records of court martials and other records. Where it does rise above the material is in the brief passages where Mukherjee analyses the recorded facts and offers his own conclusions and theories. But even these are marred by a tone of almost apologetic murmering. One expect much better from a historian and intellectual of Mukherjee’s level.
Still, if one has just seen the film and is wondering about how exactly certain incidents and events compare to the real, historical record, this book can provide an hour or two’s diversion.
In the end, both these books, like the film they’re attempting to cash in on, are nothing more than that–a couple of hours’ diversion–for about the same cost as a pair of multiplex tickets.
This entry was posted on Sunday, August 28th, 2005 at 11:06 am. It is filed under Ashok.
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