Academic, critic, and translator Himansu S. Mohapatra translates an essay originally written by him in Odia and published as a lead article in Sambad on 6 December 2024.
Literature is loved before it is known. It is in our bloodstream before it is studied. It is a form of knowing that is a negation of knowledge. In the words of the Frankfurt School critic and analyst Theodor W. Adorno, literature is a form of negative knowledge. An incident from my early childhood will perhaps best illustrate the paradoxical situation.
Grandma and her song of fire
When we first got to know our study books in the upper primary class, a book on a particular subject uncorked in us tremendous interest, enthusiasm, and excitement. That book was labeled as Literature. The Arithmetic book was there too and made its presence and importance felt. But while we loved literature, we feared arithmetic, the way we loved mother and turned away from father. It was not that mother didn’t restrain or rebuke or chastise us, but as the saying goes in Odia, ‘a mother’s beating is like a crow’s farting, but the beating by a father sends you scurrying for cover’ (Translation mine).