In Light Of India

In Light of India begins with a false start. In 1951, the author was living as a junior diplomat in Paris, enjoying every minute of it in the company of poets, artists and intellectuals, when the jealousy of a more senior Mexican official had him moved to India (the lesson he retained was that diplomats may well pursue literary ambitions, but that one must avoid, at all costs, having two writers in the same embassy at the same time.)So after a long and pleasant journey, Octavio Paz reached Bombay and set foot on the Indian subcontinent. There he discovered a country "populated by dark men with pointed mustaches and scimitars at their waists, by women with amber-colored skin, hair and eyebrow as black as crows' wings, and the huge eyes of lionesses in heat." But his erotic fantasy was brutally interrupted once again by the same implacable Mexican minister who, feeling perhaps that India was still too close to home, has him transferred to Tokyo, where another adventure began.Some eleven years and about the same number of published books later, Octavio Paz returned to India, this time as the ambassador from his country (history doesn't tell whether he exacted revenge against the jealous official that had him transferred twice against his will.) He then stayed for a little more than six years, before resigning from public office in reaction to his government's repression of the students movement in 1968. He had the occasion to come back to India for a series of lectures in 1985, and this book, part memoir and part essay, is an extended version of his lecture notes.The first part of In Light of India tries to answer a similar question to the one he addressed about his own country in The Labyrinth of Solitude: to paraphrase a famous address, how can a nation conceived under particular circumstances and dedicated to a certain ideal can long endure the passing of these circumstances and the fading of this ideal. In the case of India, the specific question is: how is it possible to turn this conglomeration of peoples, religions, castes, and languages into a true nation?Octavio Paz's answer to this conundrum is a rather conventional account of India's multifaceted identity. In my opinion, this first part doesn't add much to the standard literature written by journalists or foreigners passing through India. These are "glimpses of India: signs seen indistinctly, realities perceived between light and shadow". The author takes aim at the Hindi version of nationalism or Hindutva, which he sees as a "political corruption of religion" that borders on fanaticism. Believers from both sides may take offense at his affirmation that "neither Hinduism nor Islam had a Renaissance, as in Europe, and thus they had no Enlightenment." But before reacting with saintly indignation, one should apply the observation that the Mexican poet makes in discussing the relationship between Gandhi and Tagore: "Dialogue between a poet and a saint is difficult because a poet, before speaking, must hear others--that is to say, their language, which belongs to everyone and to no one. A saint speaks with God or with himself, two forms of silence."Despite the distance between the two founts of ancient civilizations, Octavio Paz draws interesting parallels between Mexico and India. There are indeed a few surprising similarities between the two cultures. Paz notes the prominence of chilies in both Indian and Mexican cooking, and signals that the dish is of rather recent introduction in India. Another food probably of Mexican origin is the fruit known in India by its Spanish name: chico. Curry and mole are somewhat similar, and so are the Mexican tortillas and the Indian chapattis used as edible food-grabbing devices.The similarities do not stop here. It is said that the costume of the China Poblana, a national symbol in Mexico, is an adaptation of the clothes worn by Gujarati women, which reached Mexico through Cochin and the Philippines. The mystical illuminations of Catarina de San Juan, a local saint from Puebla who confided to her Jesuit spiritual guides, are tinted with a powerful eroticism that echoes the sexually explicit visions of devotees or Krishna or of Sufi mystics. Not coincidentally, the famous religious woman from Mexico's colonial period was born a Hindu.The second part of the book is an extended meditation over the poetry and artistic traditions of India. It is more personal in style, and brings the Mexican poet to his natural element. Classical Sanskrit poetry is little known in the West, where the translators and scholars have tended to concentrate on India's great religious and philosophical texts, on the epic poems (the Mahâbharata and the Râmâyana) and on the folklore stories and fables. And yet this poetry, which was written between the fourth and the twelfth centuries, is contemporary with the height of ancient Indian civilization. The classical Sanskrit short poem, like Greek or Latin, is an epigram. Like the Greek and Latin poems, it has eloquence, nobility, a sensuality of forms, violent and sublime passions. To read these poems is to experience clarity. But--also like Greek and Latin--it doesn't know how to remain silent. It never knew the secret of the Chinese and Japanese: insinuation, oblique allusion, ellipse.Among the many poems chosen by Octavio Paz for their physical luxuriousness and their intellectual content, let us conclude with an excerpt by the lyric poet Vallana:Beauty is notin what the words saybut in that which they say without saying it:not naked, but through a veil,breasts become desirable.

Was shocked to find a text rife with racial paternalism and anachronisms. Paz is consistently dismissive of non-"western" cultures and reiterates elitist race and culture stereotypes. A tough slog. Baffled that this was considered "literary", original, thoughtful, or intellectually far-reaching or insightful. Although the "memoir" begins with recollections of 1951, it was published in 1995! Enough time certainly for a thoughtful "editor" to "suggest" revisions more in keeping with contemporary perspectives. A terrible disappointment. Returned it.

Reading some of the passages of this book is like being transported to the corridors of a lavish, sinister, endless dream. He creates an exegesis of a country so elusive and full of contradictions but magnetic and magical at the same time. I particularly enjoyed reading the poem of friendship. This book is his journey's moral and philosophical testament, that is both moving and makes us reflect.POEM OF FRIENDSHIPFriendship is a river and a ringThe river flows through the ringThe ring is an island in the riverThe river says: Before there was no river,After there is only a riverBefore and after: that which erases friendshipErases it? The river flows, forming the ringFriendship erases time and thus it frees usIt is a river that, flowing, invents its ringsIn the sands of the river our tracks are erasedIn the sands we seek the river: where has it gone?We live between oblivion and memory:This moment is an island weathered by incessant time.

Octavio Paz is clearly a deep thinker. His essays tend to be very philosophical, although for the most part, they aren't difficult to understand. His writing ranges widely. His comparison of Indian and Mexican food is fascinating. His discussion of the caste system and it's origins is enlightening. His examples and discussion of ancient Sanskrit poetry will leave you hungry for more.Paz looks beneath the surface of everything he writes about. You get a very strong sense of a man who is an original thinker. No supericial skimming or surface descriptions here.I found his Mexican background particularly beneficial. It gives him a different angle from that of an Anglo. This a very thought-full book.

In an informed and eloquent style, without presuming expertise on the subject, Octavio Paz expresses his personal views on India's history, art, philosophy, and the coexistence of multiple religions, languages and cultures. At the conclusion of one of the chapters, he candidly admits that the book is, " the child not of knowledge, but of love." Nevertheless, an absorbing read that one may revisit.

Beautiful memoir/essay describing the Mexican author’s reflections on India where he served as ambassador in the 1960’s. Acute observations on history, religion, art and culture of the 2 countries.

This book is just another treassure of one of the greatest world writers!!!! This is a thoughtful, careful, well informed, poetic reflection about India. From cooking to the caste system, which he reveals as an intricate religious way of life, Ocatvio Paz takes us to a journey throughout India's eclectic and cultural paradises.

It's a very dry book. I found it hard to feel engaged. Added 2 stars for the first few chapters which were more interesting and I learned something from them. Other then that, it's not an easy read.

The book, as advertised is a solo perspective on India's past from an independent pair of eyes. Unlike the European or white perspectives, this one connects more with the Indian psyche and understands India and Hinduism better as the author is exposed to non- Abrahamic cultures more intimately.

Anyone wants to know about India’s past along with its long history and culture, this book is a must read