Posted by: Lisa Hill | December 8, 2023

The Painter of Signs (1976), by R K Narayan

A belated contribution to #NovNov (Novellas in November), The Painter of Signs is R K Narayan’s eleventh of fifteen novels by this prolific Indian author.  Like his early novels (including Swami and Friends (1935), which I reviewed here), it is set in the fictional South Indian town of Malgudi, at an indeterminate time but recognisably in an era when women’s roles were starting to change.

Thirty-something Raman is a painter of signs for businesses in his local area, and he takes great pride in his work.  He lives beside the river where occasionally a gust of wind will blow a bit of sand onto a board which is not quite dry.  In the early part of the book we see him forego payment if his sign has flaws because his integrity matters more to him than money.

Raman lives with his elderly aunt, who has looked after his needs for his entire life.  She is a quiet presence in the novel, spending her days sourcing and storing the best ingredients for the meals he likes best.  Her sole amusement comes from visiting the temple at the end of the day and retelling her personal history.  Raman takes her for granted and apart from occasional moments of guilt and resentment about her interest in his doings, does not appreciate that her life has been devoted to his.  So it’s not surprising that he thinks marriage is unnecessary.

Scornful about superstitions, religion and caste, Raman although conservative in his lifestyle, thinks well of himself and his modern attitude to rationality.  He reads science and history books, which contribute to his sense of superiority. Although he works hard at his sign-painting, he does not recognise that he has the leisure to educate himself only because a woman is taking care of his needs.

Into this calm and settled life comes Daisy, a modern young woman whose very name signifies that she is an outsider of no caste or family.  She hires Raman to make signs for her government-sponsored program to limit population growth through family planning, and her fervent attitude makes her fearless in tackling what is an intimate subject in her society, especially in remote villages.  Raman is fascinated by her manner and appearance which signify her rejection of woman’s traditional role.  She is cagey about her past, but eventually Raman learns that she left home because she would not submit to being inspected for marriage and the inevitability of subservience to a man.

It just so happens that I am slowly reading A Woman of the Future (1979) by David Ireland, a novel which also explores the challenges that women’s liberation brought to relationships in the 1970s.  It is a very different book, much more explicit than Narayan’s coy allusions to Raman’s emerging lust.  (A single instance that hints at Raman going too far is expertly deflected by Daisy.)  And yet The Painter of Signs tackles the same confusion as Raman is confronted by long-established rules of behaviour that no longer apply.

Daisy does not need a man, and she is intransigent about her preference for complete independence.  While Raman frets about how to negotiate the simplest of interactions lest he offend her, she does not care whether the relationship progresses, or not.  Raman has no option but to submit to the way she wants things, or suffer her absence.  He is madly in love with a woman who has only a mild interest in him.

The crisis erupts when finally she agrees to marry him in the Gandharva style, a consensual marital union which involves no ceremony or rites and parents were not involved.  In the 70s in Australia, this was called ‘shacking up together’… but Wikipedia tells me that a Gandharva marriage has a more dignified lineage.  It is one of eight classical types of Hindu marriage, and there was nothing scandalous about it:

Dushyanta & Shakuntala in the Hindu epic Mahabharata (Wikipedia)

According to Apastamba Grhyasutra, an ancient Hindu literature, the woman chooses her own husband in Gandharva marriage. They meet each other of their own accord, consent to live together, and their relationship is consummated in copulation born of passion.

This form of marriage did not require consent of parents or anyone else. According to Vedic texts, this is one of earliest and common forms of marriage in Rig Vedic times.

In Rig Vedic opinions and classical literature, the commonly described marriage type was Gandharva, where the woman and the man had met each other in their ordinary village life, or in various other places such as regional festivals and fairs, begun to enjoy each other’s company, and decided to be together. This free choice and mutual attraction were generally approved by their kinsmen. A passage in the Atharvaveda suggests that parents usually let the daughter freely select her lover and directly encouraged her in being forward in affairs of the heart.

Daisy’s parents, however, are nowhere to be seen, and Daisy, moreover, has no concept of mutuality.  Raman is most disconcerted by her continued use of pronouns (me/my; you/your) that never become we/our.  And when Aunty, in a startling declaration of independence announces that she is making a one way trip to Benaras for spiritual reasons, he realises that Daisy is not going to take over Aunty’s role in the kitchen and the laundry, despite his efforts to modernise the house to accommodate her.

Too late, Raman discovers that his ingrained sexism is being subverted.

This bittersweet tragicomedy is the story of a man with love in his heart who tries to adapt to a woman determined to live a different kind of life without the restrictions of the traditional role for women.  It’s written from Raman’s distraught point of view, but it’s not an unsympathetic portrait of Daisy.  She is a strong, purposeful woman with an ambition to serve her country in the best way she can, even at the expense of domestic happiness.

It’s a story that has aged well.

Author: R K Narayan
Title: The Painter of Signs
Publisher: Penguin, 1982, first published 1976
Cover photo: Bruno Barbey/Magnum
ISBN: 9780140185492, pbk., 143 pages
Source: Personal library

Image credit: By Vintage Prints – http://www.oldindianarts.in/search/label/Mahabharata, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=18688452

 


Responses

  1. I am so so pleased to see Narayan being read and shared, his characters are so wonderful. I’m glad you felt this one had aged well and still had something to say.

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    • Definitely.
      I have two more on the TBR, The Dark Room and The English Teacher, but I’ll probably save them for #NovNov next year:)

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  2. I haven’t read Narayan yet, so a novella sounds good. I think he’s often been compared with Jane Austen, which interests me.

    I am still reading a novella too, and I have a last novella post in draft. Wah!

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    • It could just be the titles that I have, but all of them are novella length. But he packs a lot into them.

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  3. I have just read a little bit of Indian history and also a couple of novels. The Glass Palace by Amitav Ghosh, bored me senseless, and A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry that I liked a lot but left me breathlessly depressed. I feel I need to stretch out and read a few more Indian authors. I changed industries about 7 months ago and went into rental property management for the last couple of years of my working life. I have a very pro tenant attitude that is a bit outside the square in this industry, as I have discovered. What I have found is the Indian property owners without exception [LH edit don’t share my values] Hence, my reading as I am trying my best to get an understanding as to what makes them tick as it were.

    FWIW I rate A Woman of the Future, Ireland’s weakest. It did not seem to stand the test of time for me, and as you might recall I am an unabashed admirer of his works.

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    • Hello again…
      I hope you don’t mind, but I have edited your comment a little bit so that I am not hosting negative commentary about any particular ethnic community. But, privy to what you originally wrote, I admire your attitude because rather than judge, you want to learn more about them.
      But what to recommend? Oh dear, I liked The Glass Palace!
      My reading in this space is all over the place. I’ve mostly read the ones that everybody else has read, and I haven’t read enough of contemporary literature to know what might fit the bill.
      Maybe Aravind Adiga’s Last Man in Tower? That’s about property development in India…

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      • Thanks, Lisa. I will look out for that. I am slowly trawling through a very interesting Daily Life In Ancient India 200 BC to 700 AD by Jeannine Auboyer 200 BC to 700 AD, may as well start at the beginning lol, and just this morning read a short subchapter part titled The Home and its Furnishing, interesting but may not help.

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        • That does sound interesting.
          Maybe I should read A Shortest History of India which is waving at me from the TBR…

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  4. It’s a good story for a man to write, to demonstrate where he is coming from and by inference how much (or how little) he has learned – being on a similar journey myself, including the informal marriage. I’ll be interested to see your comparisons with A Woman of the Future (by an author I think was firmly anchored in the past).

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    • Well, as you know, I didn’t like the misogyny in The Glass Canoe, but I couldn’t decide where Ireland stood: was he
      calling it out and depicting the resistance of the working class to change? It’s not clear cut to me.

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      • I think I have had this discussion with Bill before, but I read an interview with Ireland, who considered himself an observer and wrote as such. Glass and Industrial were just about a commentary on every bloke I ever worked with in my entire working life.

        I have said this elsewhere as well, but I am of the opinion that his readership deserted him and that Bloodfather seems to have passed everyone by. I thought it a stunning novel.

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        • I have Bloodfather, and will read it one of these days.
          I can understand why — if literary readership is largely female — his readership perhaps felt alienated. But you’ll have to wait till the finish the last 50-odd pages and write my review to see how I sort myself out in respect of A Woman of the Future!

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  5. By golly wordpress is a clunky site. I never received any emails from you for an entire month. I have to log back in every time as well. Maybe I am missing something in my profile settings.

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    • Something is going on. AS well as this constant having to log in each time, it’s emerging that longtime subscribers of various blogs aren’t getting updates. The only thing I can suggest is that you try resubscribing, that is, put your email address into the Subscribe by Email field in the RHS menu.

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