Book Review by Ben Antao
The Sixth Night
By Silviano
C. Barbosa
Goa Raj
Books, 314 pages, 29.95.
BY BEN ANTAO
LIKE THE REST of
I was not aware of this legend until Silviano Barbosa, the author of The Sixth Night,
brought it to my attention a few years ago when he completed the first draft of
his first novel. Silviano, 55, was born and grew up
in the village of Cuncolim whereas I am from Velim and, although Assolna-Velim-Cuncolim
are linked together as incorporating a common cultural heritage, Cuncolim from pre-Portuguese times has demonstrated more
criminal tendencies in its behaviour than its
hyphenated cousins. Furthermore, the Catholics of Cuncolim
seemed to have outdone their cousins in imbibing the consciousness of Hinduism
and absorbing its plethora of myths and legends, as if the Christian and Hindu
trinities are a reflection of the same God or Brahma. This, incidentally, is
the reason for the celebrated communal harmony of Goans.
Interesting Blend
Naturally, I was more than curious to see how Barbosa
would handle this theme, this karma, fate, or destiny that was prophesied for
the baby girl on the sixth night, curious given that the girl named Linda is
born and raised in a Catholic household.
The novel is a perfect form to explore such a theme.
However, the Catholic author adroitly leaves the ending open-ended, as if the
events that shape the life of his protagonist could have happened, despite and
in spite of what the Sottvi goddess might have
predicted. Such a conclusion becomes all the more imperative since the
prophecies are not known at birth or knowable; they are only attributed to the
goddess in hindsight, like a play in reverse angle, as if to say what has
happened is what was foretold. Go ahead and smirk!
This novel is an interesting blend of fiction and
non-fiction in the sense that most first novels tend to be autobiographical. If
the reader wanted to sample a slice of life as lived in Portuguese Goa in the last 15 years of colonial rule, this novel has
plenty to engage his interest. If the reader wanted to know what it’s like for
an immigrant to fulfil his Canadian dream, this story
has enough to satisfy his curiosity. Barbosa has handled, with enthusiasm, both
these slices of the heroine’s life. If the story feels maudlin towards the end,
it’s in the nature of such a genre to appear so. Tears and smiles are the
stock-in-trade of the soap opera. Goans used to
watching the Hindi soap operas on TV, while not being fully conversant in the
language, will understand my point of view and enjoy this novel.
It’s a truism in fiction writing today that writers
show the story, not tell it. This requires that the narrative be done in scenes
with dramatized action, as if the reader is watching a movie. Barbosa is most
effective where he has followed this dictum.
As a nine-year-old girl in 1953, Linda experiences
the sting of caste, ironically in the church, during the Holy Week Passion
service in Cuncolim. The pews were reserved for the
upper caste Charddos (Kshatriyas)
who also happened to be gaunkars. This
scene where Linda, a lower caste Sudra, received a
tongue-lashing from a Charddo woman highlights
the ugly practice of caste among the Catholics, a practice still prevalent
among Catholics in
Does history repeat itself? Well, it certainly does
in Cuncolim for as recently as twenty years ago, in
the 80s, the Sudras and gaunkars
were slugging it out again. I’ve heard reports of shocking incidents involving gaunkars who went on rampage defecating in the
church and urinating in the chalice in full view of the congregation and the
priest. Such were the abusive, appalling actions committed in the name of
Christianity, sprinkled with obscene words of profanity to portray blasphemy
and sacrilege.
Then, of course, there is the perennial
disgruntlement among a segment of Charddo
Catholics in Cuncolim, who want to undo the forcible
conversions of the 16th century at the hands of the missionaries. The
reader is probably aware of the massacres of priests by the Kshatriya
Dessais of this period; many descendants of these
conversions have decided to renounce their faith and offer puja
instead at the
This is not my story; yet as a writer I feel this
caste monster needs to be wrestled down and thrashed to oblivion. Fat chance in
a land of trishul-waving Hindutva
fanatics, you say? Perhaps. To those who would go back
to the pre-Portuguese era and take on Hindu names, I say think before you act.
If you look at the history of Goa
before the Portuguese conquest, you’d note that from 1469 this region called Goa was in Muslim hands; after the conquest in 1510 there
were inter-marriages between Portuguese soldiers and Muslim women, whose
progeny were Catholic until conversions played a role in 1542 when St. Francis
Xavier arrived. So we are now looking at a whole new generation of Catholic
population with Muslim-blood antecedents. And yet a great many people in
It seems to me the caste issue in Barbosa’s
novel is as relevant today as it was in the 1950s, if Goans
are to live in peace and harmony. The recent VCD designed to whip up communal
passions could never have been made if more and more Goans
had studied their history carefully without a Hindutva
bias and prejudice.
The novel in hard cover is published
by Goa Raj Books,
To order copies of the “The Sixth
Night” email to goache@hotmail.com
(This review by Ben Antao appeared on Goan Observer March12-18,
2005)