Pāṇḍavapuraṃ, ville magique

Mercredi 9 mars 2011

On peut interpréter le délire de Devî comme une possession par les Gandharva-s, maîtres de magie et d'illusion qui construisent des cités imaginaires en façonnant les nuages du ciel. Equivalents indiens des châteaux en Espagne. En Inde la Ville, dans la polarité entre Ville et village, est une métaphore de tout ce qui est irréel, imaginaire, virtuel. Indian mythology abounds in stories about great cities that were simply not there. Being not there was originally expressed as being the creation of demons; demonic cities prevail throughout early Indian mythology.(*) Jeux de miroirs entre la Ville imaginaire et le village réel. C'est ce thème mythologique qu'illustre Pāṇḍavapuraṃ.

(*) Wendy Doniger O'Flaherty, Dreams, Illusion and Other Realities, Chicago, UCP, 1984, pp. 258–269; sp.269

Le cauchemar de Raghu (pp.89–91)

1.0.0 Cadre global: Au village: Devî délire
1.1.0 Dans ce délire: Devî invente Pandavapuram
1.1.1 Un amant visiteur vient de Pândavapuram au village

Le visiteur est au village: il raconte Pândavapuram à Raghu

1.1.0 Dans ce délire: Raghu dort à côté de Devî et il fait un cauchemar.

(88) Shyamala and Raghu slept close to each other on the next bed. A delicate smile clung to Shyamala's lips in the dim moonlight. She must be dreaming. She was probably wandering in a colourful garden that is the preserve of youth. For her, the time to see the nightmares is still far off. May she never have to go in search of the consolation called Pandavapuram.

Raghu turned and muttered something in his sleep. The railway line at Pandavapuram, the night trains that run through, shaking the earth and scattering pieces of light, the green buses with small faces embedded in the glass windows must be before him now. He believes that Pandavapuram is real. He thinks that it is a magical worid one can reach, travelling by train.

1.0.0 Dans ce délire: Devî reconnaît avoir tissé elle-même le filet de Mâyâ
= 1.0.0 enchâssé dans 1.1.0

(88) Was it for this that you performed penance, worshipped at the temple of the goddess and invoked him here? Was it for this that you had carefully sorted the threads, woven the strands and made the net from which there could be no escape?

Un château de cartes: (89) like a house of cards

1.1.0 Dans ce délire: Raghu fait un cauchemar, Devî le réconforte.

Raghu woke with a cry. He was beating his hands and legs, calling for her. — "Raghu," she called out to him sofly. — The reply was another cry. — "Come, sleep near me." Still sobbing, half asleep, he came stumbling and tripping and fell near her. She held him close and kissed the wet eyes and cheeks. He was still shivering. — "Was it a nightmare?" — Burying his face in her breasts, with the relief of having found shelter, Raghu muttered, "Yes." — "What did you see?"

1.1.1 Dans le cauchemar de Raghu: à la gare attendant le train pour Pândavapuram

(89) "When I was waiting at the station to get into the train… I slipped and fell on the rails... by that time the train whistled… and the engine of the train came at me with a terrible noise…"

Raghu tombe sur les rails, il va être écrasé, il appelle sa mère, et elle rit avec son amant sur le quai.

I called out to you when I fell. But then you were laughing with him on the platform.

Devî réconforte Raghu, jamais elle ne l'abandonnera.
Il lui demande: m'emmèneras-tu? Où? A Pândavapuram.

1.1.2 Raghu à Pândavapuram: ton père te reconnaîtra.

1.1.0 Il se rendort: finalement lui aussi a des cauchemars (style indirect libre).

(90) Poor boy; Devi ran her fingers through his hair and thought: Finally he too has started getting nightmares. Nightmares have begun harassing him so early. He too thinks that Pandavapuram is true. He does not know that Pandavapuram is only a need as far as I am concerned.

Pandavapuram is an enormous need.

(91) I don't know why Kunhikuttettan threw me away like a used rag. I unravelled it and tied it up again, measured it and poured it out, but could reach no conclusion. I could never understand that man. Now I sit here and try to invoke moments which will not surrender themselves to my mind. I want a past, a past which has logic to it. Why did Kunhikuttettan leave me? What had I done? Yes, everything has its reason. When we go in search of that reason, the colours become clear in the crystal chandeliers in the temple at Pandavapuram. A number of faces, with their overripe colour, parade before me. I choose one among them and breathe life into my paramour. I can believe in a number of such unknown relationships now. If he had known that I was intimate with such a paramour, Kunhikuttettan would definitely have left me.

Elle aurait donc l'explication de son abandon; la Ville magique est une compensation dans l'imaginaire plus une explication du réel incompréhensible.

Pandavapuram, which I had built with handfuls of hopes piled one over the other, has now become a truth which startles even me. I dream about Pandavapuram now. I think only about Pandavapuram now. As I dream and dream, Pandavapuram becomes a truth. Pandavapuram is a consolation — only a consolation. Pandavapuram takes shape in those minds that are in need of consolation.