My Ornament: Writing Women’S Moving, Erotic Bodies Across Time and Space a Novel and Exegesis
Total Page:16
File Type:pdf, Size:1020Kb
My ornament: writing women’s moving, erotic bodies across time and space A novel and exegesis Volume 1: The Novel My ornament Submitted by Christine Gillespie Bachelor of Arts (University of Melbourne) Diploma of Education (University of Melbourne) Post‐graduate Bachelor of Education (La Trobe University) A Research Thesis in two volumes submitted in total fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy School of Communication, Culture and Languages Faculty of Arts, Education and Human Development Victoria University St Albans Victoria Australia April 2008 i Contents Volume 1: The Novel Abstract iii Note to examiner/reader iv Acknowledgements v Declaration of authorship vi My ornament 1 Glossary 205 Volume 2: The Exegesis (See volume 2 for contents page of exegesis) My ornament: writing women’s moving, erotic bodies across time and space Bibliography ii Abstract This thesis is divided into two volumes, the creative work and the exegesis. The creative work, My ornament, is an Australian novel set in India. It explores―from a feminist perspective―issues of desire, subjectivity, agency and connection among three women and their moving, sexual bodies across time and space. In so doing, its aim is to place women at the centre of literary/critical discourse, emphasising connection rather than differences across cultures. The voices of the two main characters, Rachel and Muddupalani, alternate, cross over, merge and pull apart in the narrative that moves between the 18th and 20th centuries, Australia and India, with the third mythic woman, Radha, a textual presence in the poetry written by Muddupalani. The exegesis constructs an intellectual and fictional genealogy for the novel, situating it in a 21st‐century discursive space. While it is a work of Australian fiction―with an Australian author and protagonist―I suggest that it contributes to the following writing traditions: South Indian poetics and 18th‐century culture; Francophone women’s literary theory, in particular écriture feminine; and notions of ‘dancing desire’. This account of choreographing a fiction (of the self within a text) moves along intersecting planes through the liberatory spatio‐temporal territory available in cultural nomadism and transnational feminist practice. Together, these two volumes create a new discursive space by linking seemingly disparate elements and fictional characters to create a region in which women―writing and dancing women―can connect and move freely across cultural and time zones; as heterosexual erotic beings, they articulate their desire and reflect it back through their art. It is recommended that the novel be read before the exegesis. iii Note to the examiner/reader See p. 200 for a Glossary of Terms, an explanation of family connections, and information about 18th century characters. iv Acknowledgments I have enjoyed the generous support of a number of people and organisations in the three and a half years of my PhD thesis, and also during the earlier writing of fragments of the novel. My thanks go to the following: In Australia Associate Professor, Barbara Brooke and Dr Enza Gandolfo for their belief in me, their enthusiasm for this project, their generous assistance and commitment to creativity and scholarship. Those at Victoria University who gave me the extraordinary and enriching opportunity to do a PhD and then provided support―Associate Professor Elaine Martin, Dr Michele Grossman, Dr Bronwyn Cran, Jane Trewin, Lesley Birch. Sydney Smith for her encouragement in reading and commenting on early drafts of the novel. Dr Frances Devlin‐Glass for a later reading. Associate Professor Gail Jones and Dr Deane Hardwick for their belief in me as a potential PhD student. Greg Parsons and Carol Howard for a tropical retreat for three months of intensive drafting in FNQ. Joan Kenny for a Victorian writing haven. Fellow students―the gang of four―Lara Fergus, Lisa Pizaro, Sussan Khadem―for intellectual and creative stimulation and fun, at conferences and through our email list. Phillip Dare, as well as the Narrative Network. My friends and family. My daughter, Emily Gillespie, Richard and Grace Pearson, for their loving support in helping me keep the other sides of life going. Vyvyan Cayley, for meticulous proof‐reading the final version of the novel and exegesis. In gratitude to and in memory of Lisa Bellear for her friendship. In India KT Gandhi Rajan, VAK Ranga Rao and K Lalita, who opened up undreamed‐of possibilities of people, ideas and documents in South India. I cannot imagine the project without their generous support. Also, Sarojini Premchand, who painstakingly translated fragments of Radhika Santwanam from the archaic Telugu into English, with great sensitivity, in consultation with Professor Chekuree Rama Rao and the author. Also: Sumitra Jadhav; Sulakshana Mahajan; Dr Ambuja; Anveshi Women’s Centre, Secunderabad; Professor GVSR Krishnamurti and the Telugu Dept, University of Madras; Professor K Arasu and the Tamil Department, University of Madras; Professor Premeela Gurumurthy and the Music Department, University of Madras; Indo‐American Centre for International Studies, Hyderabad; K Kamala; Sri Nataraja Ramakrishna; Volga; Dr Isaac Secquera; Professor Amritjit Singh; Dr Rambutla Krishnamurti; Pandit N Visvanatnam, Saraswati Mahal Library, Tanjavur. Malaysia Angela and Hijjas Kasturi for their hospitality and several months of blissful writing at Rimbun Dahan. And: Asialink, for the writing residency in Malaysia. The Victorian Writers’ Centre, for a mentorship with Liam Davison in the planning stage of the novel. v 6 Doctor of philosophy declaration I, Christine Gillespie, declare that the PhD thesis, My ornament: writing women’s moving, erotic bodies across time and space A novel and exegesis is no more than 100,000 words in length, including quotes and exclusive of tables, figures, appendices, bibliography, references and footnotes. The thesis contains no material that has been submitted previously, in whole or in part, for the award of any other academic degree or diploma. Except where otherwise indicated, this thesis is my own work. ‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐ ii My ornament Part One To which other women of my kind have epics been dedicated?... You are incomparable, Muddupalani, among your kind. A face that glows like the full moon, skills of conversation... These are the ornaments that adorn Palani when she is praised by kings. From introductory canto to Radhika Santwanam by Muddupalani You are my ornament, my life, my jewel in the sea of existence. Be yielding to me forever, my heart fervently pleads! Krishna speaks to Radha in Jayadevaʹs twelfth‐century epic, Gitagovinda. 2 * I slump and sigh in the heat of the Saraswati Mahal Library and wonder if I will ever find the dancers. There is one at the guest house, fashioned from wrought-iron, part of the grille that keeps the monkeys from coming into my room. The metal straps have been forged into lush womanly curves, the arc of the sari, the almond eyes, the curled oysters of lips, metallic mouth, the watermelon breasts with strawberry nipples. The temple dancer of Tanjavur. 'The dancers? Yes, there were many,' says the Pandit, a small, quiet man. Then he lectures me about the great poets who wrote in Telugu. The sounds lumber towards me, the bulky names jamming in the narrow tunnel of my ears. Muddupalani. Ah. A name that I recognise. I have read about her. She wrote a scandalous erotic poem in the 18th century. 'Are there descendants of Muddupalani in Tanjavur, Sir?' The Pandit goes to his metal cupboard, unlocks it and ferrets around. His work station is a little wooden brown desk next to a pillar in the spacious central area of the library. On the desk, there is a blotter with a cardboard backing, held at the corners with triangles of leather. A metal lunch tin peeps out from a little basket of woven plastic, green with yellow ducks. A huge round clock on the wall says 12.30. The Pandit continues to rummage. 'Are there any elderly temple dancers in the area, ladies from the old tradition?' The Pandit believes that there might be. He finds a little book with cardboard cover and yellowing pages. He opens it and reads the curly language. 'Do you read Telugu?' the Pandit enquires. I shake my head. I find it hard to understand his English. He tells me that Muddupalani's mother and grandmother were also dancers and musicians, famous. He begins to draw a diagram of their family tree. It is hot. The overhead fan gyrates slowly and I wish it was set on top speed to move the heat of South India. 'They were descended from ganikas,' he says. I nod and smile. Heavenly ganikas. He gives me the pen. Write that down, he says. I am an incompetent, who cannot understand. G-a-n-i-k-a. I can't even understand the letters. Finally, I have it― 3 'heavenly ganika'. The air is barely moving. My stomach is still delicate. I had vomited and expelled food from my body all night, hollowed out like the wrought iron dancer. I nod and hope that he will finish soon. Muddupalani's epic poem. I have to write down the title―Radhika Santwanam. Bangalore, he says, and I can't imagine what that big city has to do with it all. 'But, Sir, are there any ladies related to Muddupalani now living in the area?' He is not sure. He cannot say. And if there are, they will be shy ladies. The Pandit looks longingly at the lunch in his basket. 'Could any woman become a temple dancer?' He speaks and I don't understand. 'Sir, you are an academic?' He laughs gently. 'No, madam, I am a humble man. I am the Telugu Pandit.' I pick up the paper family tree, thank the Pandit and leave him to eat his lunch.