Thursday, September 10, 2009
Umrao Jan's Progressive Worldview
After yesterday's discussion in class, I found myself thinking about Umrao Jan's unique position as she reflects upon her life at the end of the book. On the one hand, she seems repentant concerning her life as a courtesan, while on the other she justifies her experiences as the result of a "cruel stroke of fate." I would argue that Umrao Jan demonstrates a progressive worldview in which the sinful, decadent lifestyle of a courtesan can harmoniously coexist with Islamic ideals under the pretext that fate is synonymous with the will of God. In other words, Unrao Jan can respect Islam as an establishment, appreciating the merits of the religion, without actually practicing the faith. This reminds me of the Dalai Lama's visit to UT in the fall of 2005. I remember going to see his address during which he said "I think, when you really look at what they are saying, all religion is the same." The implication here, as I perceive it, is that the social and moral requirements of being a "good" person apply in some degree to any religion that a person could practice. Therefore, it is possible to still be a good person outside of a particular (or any) religion - an idea that seems impossibly radical considering the perspective of a devout Muslim (or many devout Christians I know, for that matter) such as Thanawi. Umrao Jan finds no difficulty in justifying her lifestyle because she doesn't feel as if she has ever a) been associated with religion, or b) deliberately wronged another person. Any misdeeds she may have committed were simply a result of her circumstances (God's will/fate), which she dealt with to the best of her ability. She claims to have used discretion when choosing her clients, and that her success was based largely on her talent rather than upon a large clientele. Umrao Jan represents a shift from traditional moral structures, which are based largely upon religious codes, to a new moral code which emphasizes fairness to oneself and others, regardless of circumstance.
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The part that seems very strange to me in reading Rushwa's text is that the work of a courtesan is such a respected and commonly seen part of the culture. In a religion that seems [especially after reading thanawi's book]so strict in its moral guidelines and ideals it seems strange that "women of the night" have almost taken a place above that of Islam's religious hold. While we do see Umrao repent her life and begin to be a practicing member of Islam it seems that the courtesan's place is more damaging to the men that frequent the house. If the loopholes for courtesans forced into the trade exist is the some kind of forgiveness offered the men that frequent their sides or are the sinned beyond redemption? And did Rushwa’s novel become a type of sensation upon its publication? With the lives of these women being almost completely hidden from the lower classes, and with respect to the strict moral writs of Islam concerning any part of sexuality wouldn’t airing this sort of lifestyle [with all of the subtle talk of sexuality in the book] be a bit of a slap in Islam’s face?
ReplyDeleteThere is a lot in both of these posts that is really interesting and deserves closer attention. I want to emphasize one point, though. It's a mistake to see Thanawi's variant of Islam as "traditional" or hegemonic. Islam, before Thanawi, was lived in a much looser, freer way. Remember, when Thanawi is writing he is horrified by all of the practices that have crept into Islam from the outside (custom). So it's actually courtesans that are traditional (customary) and Islam along the Thanawi pattern that is new and challenging.
ReplyDeleteMoreover, and this may be too obvious to state, there have always been different sets of moralities that apply to the elite than apply to the lower classes. The clergy before the French Revolution lived exorbitantly lavish lives even while the preached frugality.
Now, the point about Umrao's conversion and repentance at the end of the novel. I think that Josh is partly right -- the novel clearly wants you to believe that Umrao has made a turn for the pious by the end. The problem for me is that there is so very little in the rest of the novel which buttresses that conversion to Islam. You literally have two different Umrao Jan's -- one who is a courtesan with all of her attendant aesthetic and social preoccupations and the other who is basically a poor housewife without a home or a husband. There's a fairly vast gulf between the two. If you read Ruswa's interrogatory remarks careful, he takes a pretty dim view of Umrao Jan's claims that a place has been reserved for her in paradise. I think that this is one of those moments where the novel is at least clear that the moral resolution of the novel is on shaky terrain. We can't be sure that Umrao Jan's soul has been redeemed nor can we be sure that Islam has welcomed her back into its fold (if it had, would she need to be secluded and alone?).
I will try to elaborate on this point about the two Umrao Jan's in class on Friday.