OV Vijayan once told a poignant fable: a rooster, caged and fed daily by an unseen owner, noticed that each morning as the clock struck ten, the cage door opened and food was pushed inside. Initially, the rooster hypothesized a connection between the clock’s ringing and the arrival of food. Over time, repeated confirmation emboldened this tentative guess into a firm theory: the clock, it believed, caused the feeding. But the day the rooster fully trusted its theory, the clock struck, the door opened, and instead of food, the owner entered, seized the rooster, and cooked his lunch. For Vijayan, this was no mere cautionary tale. It was a parable about the deep vulnerability of knowledge itself, the ease with which repetition transforms illusion into certainty. He remained a restless questioner, sceptical of rationality’s triumphant narratives, uneasy with the idea that emancipation could be charted as a linear progression. His critique of Marxism arose not from a rejection of its ideals, but from a deeper agnosticism toward all grand ontologies that promised redemption without remainder.
This deep suspicion of simple absolutes, of theories and ideologies that collapse into dogma, forms a crucial key to understanding Vijayan’s life and work. Decades after his departure, Vijayan remains a challenging writer to engage with, largely due to his fluid philosophical vistas, deeply provocative political reflections, and contemplative yet incisive challenges to both readers and those in power. His distrust of the state and reason, along with his social ontology grounded in scepticism, complicate any attempt to understand him within fixed or definitive literary or political constructs. These complexities resist simplistic interpretations, making Vijayan’s work elusive and difficult to pin down with any certainty. It is this spirit of restless interrogation, of being simultaneously within and against inherited structures, that the present anthology seeks to capture. Bringing together a range of critical perspectives, the compilation offers a layered exploration of Vijayan, not merely as a writer, but as a thinker profoundly engaged with the political, cultural, and philosophical dilemmas of our time.
The compilation addresses different aspects of Vijayan’s oeuvre, including his literary works, his contributions to political thought, his engagements as a cartoonist, and his role as a translator. In this introductory chapter, EV Ramakrishnan delves into the multi-dimensional persona of Vijayan, analysing how the writer is defined as a ‘critical insider’ within the socio-political and cultural contexts of postcolonial India. The term ‘critical insider’, as articulated by writer UR Ananthamurthy, refers to an organic intellectual; one who maintains a deep connection with their cultural and intellectual heritage while simultaneously critiquing and questioning its dominant ideologies. Vijayan, according to this framework, embodies this dual role effectively. Vijayan’s works, particularly his early novels like The Legends of Khasak and The Saga of Dharmapuri, serve as counter-narratives that reject the monolithic impositions of colonial and postcolonial power structures. His works are not merely literary artifacts but philosophical and political commentaries that challenge the very structures that define reality in modern society. His transition from a committed Marxist to a spiritual seeker highlights his complex relationship with ideological systems, demonstrating his inability to conform to any single, rigid belief system. This intellectual flexibility marks him as a critical insider, someone who is deeply entrenched in his cultural and political milieu but also critically distanced enough to question its assumptions. Ramakrishnan also emphasizes how Vijayan’s early disillusionment with Communism, particularly after the events in Hungary in 1956, shaped his literary voice. Vijayan navigates between tradition and modernity, between spirituality and politics, embodying a critical stance that does not shy away from confronting the contradictions of contemporary life.
Following a section of carefully curated set of excerpts from Vijayan’s novels and short stories, the book begins with an in-depth engagement with Vijayan’s seminal works, including The Legends of Khasak, The Saga of Dharmapuri, and Gurusagaram by prominent Malayalam critics. KP Appan’s essay, ‘Laughter of Detachment’ (translated by KT Dinesh) explores the novel’s engagement with existential themes, focusing on the character Ravi’s quest for meaning. Asha Menon’s ‘The Music of Khasak’ (translated by K Ramachandran) compares the lyrical quality of Vijayan’s writing to music, emphasizing its philosophical exploration of human futility and the spiritual quest. PK Rajasekharan’s ‘The Paternal Clock’ (translated by Arunlal Mokeri) examines the figure of the father in Khasak. EV Ramakrishnan’s ‘Orality, Literacy, and Modernity’ (translated by Dhanesh Mankulam) examines how Vijayan adopted a critical approach to the concept of language, challenging modernity’s obsession with literacy. Ramakrishnan’s highly nuanced essay captures Vijayan’s ambivalent stance on the culture of literacy, highlighting his complex engagement with it. The next section analyses Vijayan’s works as a critique of societal structures, with K Satchidanandan, David Selbourne, PP Raveendran, V Rajakrishnan, Thomas Mathew and EV Ramakrishnan exploring his duality as a spiritual seeker, political critic, and philosophical thinker.
The section titled ‘Vijayan in the Twenty-First Century’ offers a deep and multifaceted examination of Vijayan’s literary and intellectual contributions, particularly his critiques of modernity, politics, and gender. P Pavithran’s ‘Vijayan’s Journeys’ (translated by KC Muraleedharan) explores Vijayan’s critique of modernity, tracing its evolution from his early works to his later ones, particularly Madhuram Gayathi. Pavithran situates Vijayan’s works as a response to the colonial and capitalist impositions on Indian society, while also delving into his search for alternative values and solutions in the wake of modernity’s failures. G Ushakumari’s ‘Vijayan’s Women: Beyond the Deterministic Dogmas’ (translated by EV Ramakrishnan) reflects on the nuanced portrayals of women in Vijayan’s works, especially in The Legends of Khasak. VC Sreejan’s ‘O.V.
Vijayan’s Politics’ (translated by KC Muraleedharan) addresses Vijayan’s political engagement, particularly his critical stance towards Communism and his reflections on the socio-political climate of Kerala. Ajay P Mangat’s ‘The Saga of Dharmapuri in the Twenty-First Century’ (translated by K Ramachandran) revisits Dharmapuranam, examining its continuing relevance in the context of global and national political shifts. EV Ramakrishnan’s ‘Thalamurakal (Generations): The Caste System as seen through the Cracked Mirror of the Present’ focuses on the caste system as represented in Vijayan’s Thalamurakal. These essays collectively deepen our understanding of Vijayan’s works, revealing their complex engagements with political, social and philosophical themes. They highlight his critical stance on the contradictions of modernity, his nuanced treatment of gender, and his deep intellectual reflections on spirituality and politics.
In the section ‘Vijayan in Translation’, several essays critically engage with Vijayan’s self-translation of Khasakkinte Ithihasam into The Legends of Khasak. Chitra Panikkar’s ‘Self-Translation as Self-Righting’ views the translation as a linguistic and ideological transformation, reflecting Vijayan’s shift from Marxism to spirituality. Panikkar reflects on how Vijayan’s translation is not just an attempt to transfer his work from Malayalam to English but also a means of correcting or reworking his earlier self, an act of ‘self-righting’. This shift is underscored by Vijayan’s ideological evolution, particularly his transition from a Marxist perspective to a more spiritual outlook, which is evident in the way his character, Ravi, is portrayed in the English translation compared to the original Malayalam text. Sanju Thomas’s ‘The Writer as Translator’ frames Vijayan’s translation as a creative rewriting of the self. Deepan Sivaraman’s ‘From Text to Performance’ discusses his stage adaptation of The Legends of Khasak, reflecting on the fusion of visual and theatrical elements influenced by Kerala’s Theyyam.
In the section ‘Vijayan the Cartoonist’, a series of essays critically reflect on Vijayan’s multifaceted role as a political cartoonist, exploring his unique contributions to Indian cartooning, his satirical commentary, and his personal journey as an artist. The section includes essays that examine the historical and political context in which Vijayan’s cartoons were created, as well as the stylistic and thematic developments within his work. The essay by OV Vijayan, ‘A Cartoonist’s Workshop’ (translated by PN Venugopal) reflects Vijayan’s thoughts on the role of the cartoonist in India, highlighting the unique challenges faced by Indian cartoonists who operate in a politically turbulent and diverse society. Vijayan discusses how the cartoonist’s role transcends humour, emphasizing the importance of using satire to critique the establishment. He reflects on the historical evolution of the cartoon form, pointing out that the Indian cartoonist must engage with the complex realities of the country, marked by socio-political diversity, while avoiding the pitfalls of humour that lacks social responsibility. Cartoonist EP Unny’s article ‘He also Cartooned’ delves into Vijayan’s transition from the world of literature to the realm of political cartooning. Unny tracks Vijayan’s rise in the Indian media landscape, beginning with his early work in Shankar’s Weekly and later in The Statesman, where his political cartoons became sharp critiques of India’s political climate, particularly during the Emergency period. Bruce Petty’s reflections in ‘The Tragic Idiom’ offer a broader perspective on Vijayan’s legacy as a cartoonist. Petty notes how Vijayan’s cartoons engaged with postcolonialism and the absurdities of political power. Petty suggests that Vijayan’s work occupies a unique space in the world of cartooning, blending western influences with a distinct Indian sensibility.
The section ‘Vijayan as seen by his Contemporaries’ offers valuable reminiscences from prominent figures who provide personal and critical insights into Vijayan’s life and literary legacy. P Govinda Pillai reflects on the literary get-togethers in Delhi that influenced Vijayan’s intellectual and creative journey, while Anand, in ‘Vijayan 1975–2005: Progressive Erosion of Black Humour and Laughter’, analyses the shift in Vijayan’s narrative style and the gradual decline of his biting, satirical humour. M Mukundan’s ‘O.V. Vijayan: Death and Afterlife of a Writer’ delves into the lasting impact of Vijayan’s work after his death, exploring how his legacy continues to resonate. ‘Remembering My Brother’ by OV Usha, Vijayan’s sister, offers a deeply personal perspective on his life, shedding light on his character from a familial angle. Additionally, ‘The Lean Young Man’ by Madhavikkutty (Kamala Das), translated by Shyma P, provides a unique literary connection, reflecting on Vijayan’s influence and their shared understanding of the literary world. These contributions collectively offer a nuanced portrait of Vijayan, combining personal recollections with literary critique, enhancing our understanding of his life, works, and enduring legacy.
The section ‘Vijayan in Conversation’ presents insightful interviews and conversations with Vijayan, offering a deeper understanding of his thoughts, beliefs, and creative processes. In ‘“We can never accept that the black man can say something original!”: A Conversation with O.V. Vijayan’ (translated by KC Muraleedharan), Akbar Kakkattil engages with Vijayan on themes of race, identity, and the literary world, shedding light on his global perspective. ‘The Lion in Winter: An Interview with O.V. Vijayan’ by Rajeev Srinivasan captures the complexity of Vijayan’s reflections on aging, legacy, and the political landscape, providing a rare glimpse into his philosophical musings in his later years. ‘“Writing in English is like wanting a New Set of Parents”: A Conversation on Language between O.V. Vijayan and O.V. Usha’ (translated by EV Ramakrishnan) explores the intimate and intellectual relationship between Vijayan and his sister, discussing language, translation, and their shared literary journey. Finally, the write-up by Prasannarajan, ‘Sorrow of the Traveller’—S. Prasannarajan in Conversation with O.V. Vijayan, is interspersed with critical reflections from the interviewer, alongside questions and answers. Prasannarajan captures the essence of his conversation with Vijayan by saying, ‘Conversation with Vijayan makes you feel that you are the accidental intruder in the soliloquies of a fugitive.’ He further quotes Vijayan, who states, ‘When the beginning and end are clouded in mystery, and you want to seek a tangible routine for life, you inevitably become a fugitive. You are the still point of a mysterious exodus. It is strange, I feel the experience. Flight and samadhi are complementary.’
It is hardly surprising that in this compilation, The Legends of Khasak stands out as the most celebrated work of Vijayan. The novel has achieved a distinctive place in Malayalam literature, with many critics often marking a clear divide between Malayalam fiction before and after Khasak. I have my own critique of Khasak, which I feel projects an urban gaze onto the unsuspecting villagers, offering readers caricatures of simpletons that, at best, elicit a smile, and at worst, mild contempt. The true strength of The Legends of Khasak lies in how it externalizes the strange self through the rural folk. The central character Ravi stands out as the only educated individual, with a mission to ‘civilize’ the villagers’ children by teaching them to read. His existential angst gains a unique dimension in this rural context, an aura that might not have been as pronounced in an urban setting. Nevertheless, I must also acknowledge that the legendary status the novel has attained is not solely because it invites readers to identify with its portrayal of modernity as a force that whimsically caricatures the villagers’ lived experiences.
The correspondence between OV Vijayan and Anandi Ramachandran which began in 1981 reflects a deep and evolving friendship founded on mutual respect and intellectual exchange. The final section of the book is dedicated to this correspondence, with two chapters from the book translated by EV Ramakrishnan, offering a direct insight into their meaningful communication. Anandi, initially struck by Vijayan’s humane, humble, and philosophical nature, found in his letters not only intellectual insights but also a sense of purity and integrity that distinguished him from other writers. The letters, some of which Anandi has compiled in ‘Vijayan in Letters’, offer a glimpse into their personal and intellectual bond, highlighting Vijayan’s transparency, wisdom, and the profound connection they shared.
Books like this are invaluable because they provide comprehensive perspectives on Vijayan’s multifaceted intellect. As we navigate the posthuman era, characterized by rapid technological advancements and growing social divisions and anxieties, Vijayan’s endeavour to establish a social ontology rooted in scepticism continues to present a profound philosophical challenge. Vijayan, a non-Marxist liberal philosopher, was a writer with whom I have had my own disagreements. However, it is precisely such sceptics, those who challenge easy certainties and question dominant narratives, who are crucial to our collective intellectual landscape. Contemplations by figures like Vijayan serve as vital valves, preventing the unchecked reproduction of ideologies that have historically led to tragedies like the Holocaust, labour camps, and destructive wars. His work, filled with political critique and philosophical depth, urges us to confront uncomfortable realities and resist the forces that divide us along lines of religion, race, and nationality. In a world increasingly polarized, sceptical thinkers like him are indispensable in reminding us of the need for humility, reflection, and a commitment to human fraternity.
TT Sreekumar is Professor at The English and Foreign Languages University (EFLU), Hyderabad.