Volume II, No.  1, Spring 2003

INTRODUCTORY eSSAYS

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What's Love Got to Do with It?

Choosing between Love and Family
in Late 19th Century India
[1]

by Judith E. Walsh


[Girls] think constantly of  love   love  and, in the end, some get as obsessed with it as a character in a novel. They can think of nothing else their husband s love seems to be the only purpose of their life. This is harmful both to them and to their husbands. For when the husband thinks  My wife is my all  and the wife thinks,  My husband is my all.   household dharma gets burnt to ashes. Family dharma gets burnt to ashes. And only two people, sitting face to face, night and day, pass their lives. 

 The Laksmi of the Home (Grha laksmi), 1888, 1. 


In late nineteenth century India, romantic love challenged much in indigenous Hindu marriage practices and family life. Even if Western-influenced and English educated Indian men of the period viewed  romantic love  as fundamentally Western and foreign, they were enthusiastic about the more intimate, dyadic relations it allowed between husband and wife. For such men,  love  was part of the full panoply of the colonial modernity they desired from their wives they wanted literacy, education and companionate marriage, in their homes, system, order, efficiency, and hygiene. 

Yet, even as reform-minded Indian men spoke enthusiastically about the new relations they imagined, they still hesitated to abandon older patterns of family life. They still feared a future cut off from the world of the extended family. On the one hand, there was colonial modernity and the foreign attractions of its romantic love and of that love's promise, an intimate, exclusive relationship with a life-long companion and friend.  On the other hand, there were the compelling bonds and practices of indigenous home and family life of parents, uncles and aunts, of a wife s devotion to her husband (embodied in a sati s self sacrifice) the myriad intimacies of family connectedness, symbolized by family dharma and visible in the daily practices of the home. 

Romantic love (in its 19th century incarnation) may have been as new to peoples in England and the United States as it was to those in India.  In the US, a new domesticity emphasized romantic love as distinct from marriage for money (Ryan 1985, 37). Men and women now expected to fall in love before marriage and to find a  soul mate, a companion with whom they could share their innermost secrets  (Clement 1997, 46). In England, similar conflicts between marriages undertake to ensure economic security and those based on romantic love and mutual attraction animate most, if not all, of English writer Anthony Trollope s popular late 19th century social novels. Trollope s books revolved around the social struggles and complexities inherent in young people s efforts to secure marriages that would give them financial security while still allowing romantic love.[2]

In 19th century India, however, romantic love was less about self choice and/or financial ruin and more about a range of ideas and practices identified with British colonial modernity. Love, the literacy and education of wives, the range of daily and domestic practices compatible with the structures and demands of life in British-ruled India all were mutually constitutive, mutually implicated, in the lives young Indian men imagined for themselves.[3] To illustrate this embeddedness (and its problems) I focus in this essay on a popular, late 19th century Bengali domestic manual, The Laksmi of the Home. This manual read against the discourse on love of middle class Indians throughout British India shows us how entwined the idea of an exclusive love relationships with a literate wife was with a colonial modernity young Indians very much wanted for themselves.  But it also illustrates the ambivalence with which men could view these relationships and the life cut off from the world of the extended family they seemed inevitably to imply. 

 

What s Love Got To Do With It?

Advice manual authors were willing enough to challenge the older patriarchal traditions of extended family life, but they insisted on identifying those practices with elderly women in the family and contextualizing the older patriarchy's beliefs and practices as old women's ignorance and superstition. Wherever possible, however, they preferred not to see the extent to which their reconfiguration of family life challenged the central concepts and practices of the indigenous domestic world. In particular, they often ignored the way their new patriarchy challenged both the authority structures of the extended family and older formulations of family obligations (family dharma) that demanded young couples, both wives and husbands, subordinate themselves to the authority of family elders.[4] From that older (Hindu) perspective, if either a husband or a wife put his or her own interest as individuals or even their joint interest as a couple ahead of the larger family unit, their actions threatened the family s survival. As one Bengali manual author wrote, speaking of a head housewife who chose to further her husband s interest at the expense of the larger family  She may be the karta s (the master s) housewife, but she is not the family s!  (BWa, 22)

One way to rewrite family authority without challenging family dharma was to redefine the nature of the family itself, that is, to draw family life in such a way that authorities other than the husband disappeared from the picture. In Bengal, several manuals for women approached the problem in this way. Dhirendranath Pal, author of the most popular advice manual of the period, did this in Conversations with the Wife. In his book, the center of family life was the companionate marriage of husband and wife; the larger extended family was simply assumed to be compatible with this relationship (CWW). 

Two other Bengali manuals also used this same approach and took it even further. The Duties of Women, for instance, a household compendium published in 1890, presented detailed instructions on the organization and maintenance of the Bengali home. In its final chapter, its reform-minded authors described  Three Families,  the last of which was intended to offer a model for family life. But this last family consisted only of a wife, three offspring and a very accommodating husband. Here is the manual s description of that husband as he comes home after a day at work:

Just at that moment the master of the house arrived home and sat down to help with his wife s household tasks.  He cut up the fish, he picked up the little boy to hug him and then took the two boys off to give them a bath.  Meanwhile the housewife prepared the rice and cooked dishes and was ready to serve her husband, son and guests. After everyone had eaten and she had bathed, the housewife ate her food in a cheerful frame of mind and rested. After a little rest she began to sew, after that she wrote some letters as necessary to friends.  

The master and mistress of this family, the manual concludes, were religious, dharmik people.

This family is very happy. Their income is very little. But on this insignificant income, how happily they run the household (DW, 118).

A second reform-oriented text, Mother and Son, rewrote family structures even more explicitly in its quest for the proper atmosphere within which to raise a child. This Bengali manual s main focus was on childrearing, particularly on the role of a mother in the life of a child. It opened in a small household of four a husband (Subodhcandra), his wife, their young son and Subodh s widowed mother.  When (after several chapters) the elderly mother died, Subodhcandra (the husband) took additional relatives into his family. But in this larger family context it proved impossible to raise a child safely. The son became gravely ill his mother had been distracted by excessive housework. After the child s life was saved, his doctor advised the break up of the extended family as a matter of health. Subodhcandra sent his other family members away, thus granting the  heart s wish  of his wife that she should live alone with her husband and son (MS, 104). 

Manual writers were not the only late nineteenth century authors who found the extended family an impediment to explorations of new home relations. Household novels of the late 19th and early 20th century did not always set their explications of home life and marriage relations within the extended family context. Rabindranath Tagore, the famous Bengali poet and novelist, wrote two novels in the early 20th century, both of which explored romantic and married love within the context of an older (Hindu) arranged marriage system. In The Broken Nest (Nastanir), 1901, a wealthy husband and wife live in a Calcutta household with the husband s younger male cousin. The young, childless wife's arranged marriage has coupled her to an educated but disinterested and dull husband; over the course of the novel, she becomes romantically obsessed with the young male cousin and the marriage is destroyed. In The Home and the World (Ghare baire, 1916), a wealthy landowner lives in the East Bengali country side with his wife and his widowed older sister (Tagore 1971; 1992) . Here the English educated husband s desire to  liberate  his wife to give her freedom and self choice leads to her romantic infatuation with an unscrupulous nationalist and to the husband s injury and (possible) death. In both books, the absence of family elders facilitated the plot; neither story could be as clearly focused within the larger extended family setting. Rajat Ray (2001) suggests that in much Bengali fiction of the period the characters  romantic attractions are either frustrated or postponed. In Rabindranath s two stories, however, the dangers of romantic love are even more dramatically framed, as the author underlines the importance of acknowledging love s potential not only for disrupting older style marriage and family relations, but for destroying them. 

In general, however, Bengali and Indian men were enthusiastic about romantic love, seeing it as an attractive (if foreign) intruder. Bengali English-educated college students of the period, it is said, knew the balcony scene of Romeo and Juliet by heart, and autobiographical reminiscences suggest that exposure to Western literature produced an intense yearning for romantic love in young Bengali men (Raychaudhuri 1999, 14). Fiction writers such as Bankim Candra Chatterji produced many stories revolving around romance and the English word  love  itself written  lob  in Bengali transliteration appeared frequently in the period s fiction (Ray 2001, 108; Chakrabarti 1995, 302). The sentiments of love and affection were seen to structure  new  family relationships not only between husbands and wives but also between parents and children (Bose 1995, 122). 

Chakrabarti (1995) describes several passages from this period s literature in which Bengali men's memories of wives are suffused with the drama and passion of romantic love. In Bankim s novel The Poison Tree, the hero kisses the mat on which his wife used to sit and describes (with pain) her relationship to him:

Is Suryamukhi only my wife? To me she is everything. She is my wife in relation, brother in companionship, sister in care, a kindred in entertainment, mother in affection, daughter in devotion, friend in pleasure, a teacher in counselling [sic], a maid in waiting, an ally in the world, goddess of fortune in the house, religion in my heart, an ornament of the neck (Chakrabarti 307).

Similarly, in the less well known 1899 novel, Wife and Husband ( Stri o svami)a husband meets his wife after a long absence and is ecstatic to be near her:

She whom I had been crazy to see for so long, to hear a word from whose lips I experienced heavenly bliss, whose name I repeated in my mind constantly and frequently for four years, whose thought had become my chief preoccupation at times of eating, moving, sleeping and dreaming .(307).

Chakrabarti also quotes a long autobiographical fragment in which the author similarly describes his intense feelings for his wife:  My heart went out to Jagadamba,  this man recalls,  like the turbulent flow of water through the broken banks of a river during the high tide in monsoon times. . . The whole world appeared to be brimming with love; I saw the adoring face of Jagadamba wherever I looked  (305).When this wife left on a visit her parents  home, the writer found her absence unbearable.  I left every thing aside and was always brooding over Jagadamba,  he recalls. 

At night my suffering became unbearable. . . . I kissed the bed so many times when I remembered that my Jagadamba had used it. She used to touch with her pretty hands the mosquito nets, the bed-posts and all the things in the room, and she had lived there too. I embraced all these so many times. I fell on the floor of the room when I recalled that her fair feet had walked on it so often (306).

Romantic love and companionate marriage were also seen as essential for a happy married life in regions outside Bengal.  An educated man,  wrote a well known Gujarati poet,  cannot share his life with an illiterate wife.  (Basu 1988, 69)Similarly a west Indian Maharashtrian man (the husband of Kashibai Kanitkar) was overheard telling a friend that he could share his life only with an educated wife (Kosambi, 143). In literature on husband/wife relations produced by the Arya Samaj (a religious reform association of northern and western India) a wife was expected to win her husband s heart with her charms and accomplishments and to embody the virtues of  love,   tolerance,  and  faithfulness  (Kishwar 1989, 111). The Gujarati reformer Karsondas Mulji described his ideal woman in the following way:

Look at the picture of the woman who delights the heart of a man, who overpowers him by her pure love; observe her traits: she walks gently, she speaks only melodious words. She is both mild and guileless. She neither sits idly nor wanders here or there. She neither eats or drinks like a glutton but like a temperate woman. By her good and amiable disposition her smiling face is suffused with love. . . . (Quoted in Chakravarti 1998, 207).

Similarly European and English writers from outside India notably Mrs.  Speier (Life in Ancient India) and Clarisse Bader also contributed to Indian men s preoccupation with romantic love. They found in the  ancient Aryan past  of traditional Hindu literature in the stories of Nala and Damayanti, for instance, or of Savitri and Satyavan illuminating examples of beautiful romantic and conjugal love (Chakravarti 1990, 38-60).[5]

In a recent study of 20th century love and marriage in a small (Hindu) Nepali community, Laura Ahearn (2001a) draws out the multiple interconnections between 20th century literacy practices, romantic love and  development  discourse. Using a collection of pre-marriage  love letters  between men and women contemplating self choice elopements (rather than arranged marriages), she shows how a twentieth century development discourse emphasizing individual agency and success finds expressions in new structures of feelings regarding love and marriage relations. Love  happens  to young people in this Nepali community (as they see it) it comes unbidden and unchosen and seizes peoples  hearts and minds. But those who  love  then find themselves empowered to greater acts of self determinancy and self choice. Love, Ahearn writes,

afflicts and torments them [villagers], catches them in a web, makes them feel like they re going crazy. Yet it also empowers them, giving them a sense of agency in other realms of their lives, thereby connecting them up with  development discourse  and Western, commodified notions of  success  (2001a, 149). 

 Love is the union of two souls,  writes one young Nepali man to the woman who will become his wife,  The  main  meaning of love is  life success. 

May our love reach a place [this same young man writes in a later letter] where we can in our lives overthrow any difficulties that arise and obtain success (2001, 151).

These Nepali villagers associate  love  with enabling life success. This means, Ahearn suggests, carving out lives based on images presented to them through a wide range of media, through written textbooks, and advertisements and through Hindi and Nepali films. These images  promote a lifestyle based on formal education, knowledge of English, lucrative employment, the consumption of commodities, and a sense of self founded on individualism  (151). Over the decades of the 1980s and 1990s, self choice marriages (elopements) have increased within this community and older style arranged marriages have decreased to the point that elopements actually represent more than half of all first marriages (Ahearn 2001a, 76-77). Capture marriages (an older form of marriage in which young women were kidnapped and forced to marry by the family and/or friends of young men, sometimes with the women s own families  collusion) have become increasingly rare in the past ten years.  It s not all right for there only to be the boy s consent, you know,  one young man told Ahearn, indicating an aspect of the new structures of feeling she sees now contributing to marriage practices in this village. 

 . The biggest, the  main  thing of all, now, [he continued] in this day and age is for the girl to consent totally and freely when it comes to the boy (98).

Although Ahearn saw mostly love letters written by men (she was given them by the women to whom they were written), she emphasizes that the practice of writing such letters is inextricably tied to the growth of women s literacy in this community, to young women s ability to read and write. Such literacy practices are embedded in the cultural practices of the village: far from a culture-free technology, literacy exists as social practice within particular and contingent social (and economic, political) contexts. Women s (and men s) literacy in Nepal exists in a context defined by development discourse by economic structures which encourage more individualistic activities on the part of men and women alike, within a language (a discourse) which emphasizes individuals  agency and self choice as key to an individually defined  life success.  When young Nepali villagers  love  and when they create their love relationships through mutual love letters they see themselves within contexts defined for them by contemporary development discourse (as found in textbooks, magazines, and films). It may not be that these new contexts create more individual agency, but certainly they allow the development of more self-conscious attitudes towards and more open acceptance of individual agency. Love  happens  to young people who then see themselves consciously choosing to  act  on that love. 

A hundred years earlier, in colonial Calcutta and India, love and literacy practices were equally embroiled in another set of ideas and practices that colonized Indians saw as constitutive of the modern in this case the colonially modern self. When English educated young Indian men  yearned  for romantic love, that  yearning  was part of a new construction of self that included a knowledge of English, work in Western style jobs created by the British presence in India, daily habits of eating and dressing reshaped by colonial styles (and, sometimes, British demands), and a domestic world and family relations appropriately reformed for the colonially modern present. Young men s reading and writing practices were as fully embedded in the 19th century British colonial world as Ahearn s Nepali villagers  practices were/are in the 20th/ 21st century worlds of Nepal and America. Reading and writing practices that began in India for men with English education (or for women within a wide range of regional languages) carried with them the full range of the socio/cultural/economic ideas and practices of the colonial modernity that had brought those literacy practices into existence. 

 

Girijaprasanna and The Laksmi of the Home

In the Bengali manual, The Laksmi of the Home, the author's attraction to an intimate companionate husband/wife relationship is clear, even as the same author expresses his hostility towards romantic love and the threat it poses to extended family relations.  Girijaprasanna Raycaudhuri, the manual's author, was only 22 when he wrote the book. Youth may be an issue here, for as much as many authors (and perhaps more than most) Girijaprasanna Raycaudhuri was attracted to the colonial modernity embodied in a domestic world characterized both by household order and by the intimacy and romance of a dyadic, exclusive, companionate marriage. But he was also strongly repelled by the degree to which such a relationship implied the destruction of family dharma and the loss of the moral and emotional bonds of indigenous home and family life

Girijaprasanna was born in 1862 into a Vaidya family in Barisal district. He graduated from prestigious English language colleges in Calcutta and became a lawyer practicing in the Calcutta High Court. He also became an author. At the time of his early death in 1899 he was 37 he had written at least seven books: three studied the novels of Bankim Chandra Chatterji and established his reputation as a critic of that well-known novelist. The other books were advice manuals: A Few Letters (Kayekhani patra) in 1882; The Laksmi of the Home (Grha laksmi) in 1884 and 1888; Beneficial Words (Hitakatha, date uncertain), and A Couple s Letters and Conversation (Dampatir patralap) in 1896.[6]

Girijaprasannawas relatively well known at the end of the 1880s. His books on Bankim had gained him great attention; in addition several of his advice manuals were reviewed in the woman s journal, Bamabodhini patrika. The reviewer of the first edition of The Laksmi of the Home  praised the book s  good advice about household dharma,  and its author s  good taste, magnanimity and discretion.  At the same time he noted his own disagreement with some of the author s opinions: with Girijaprasanna s support of child marriage, for example, and with his opposition to couples  meeting before marriage (Bamabodhini 1884, 233-234). 

The title page of Girijaprasanna s manual tells us it was written to educate women about  all those good qualities which are necessary for a woman to be a true  Laksmi of the home.  The greater proportion of the book focused on women s family relationships. Chapters on  Husband and Wife,   The Father-in-law s House,   A Husband s Travels,   The Mother-in-law and the Daughter-in-Law,  among others, addressed women s roles, relations, obligations and responsibilities within their in-laws  families. Women s literacy and education , the husband s role as his wife s teacher, and the greater weight his advice should have in determining her conduct, the importance of order, cleanliness, economy and efficiency these issues were discussed in chapters such as  Reading and Writing,   Clothing and Ornamentation,  and  Housewifery.  The author excuses himself in the introduction, however, from any detailed discussion of domesticity.  It has seemed to me quite unnecessary,  he notes in the preface to the first edition,

to write on subjects such as art, cooking, hygiene, midwifery, the rearing of children and so forth in such a book, especially as there are already books written specifically on these matters. What would be the point of reading this book instead of those? (LH, ii)

 

Love and Family Dharma

The central point of The Laksmi of the Home s opening chapter and a recurrent theme in many others as well was the primacy of dharma in family life.  In  Husband and Wife  (the manual s first chapter) the author defines the responsibility of wife and husband in terms of their duties to the family. This  householder  stage of life, says the husband,

is not for one s own happiness, it is not for earthly pleasures and luxury, it is not for fame and glory. The stage of the householder is for the practice of dharma, for doing good for others (LH, 7).

But the fictional wife only imperfectly understands the meaning of this. Asked to describe the  duties  which husband and wife owe each other, she puts forward a description of romantic and exclusive love:

They should each [she says] love [bhalobasibe] each other; They should each tell each other their innermost thoughts. Each should be made happy by the other s happiness and unhappy by the other s unhappiness and each should try to increase the other s happiness (LH, 7)

 Stop!  says the husband,  I don t want to hear any more. 

An argument follows about the purpose of marriage and love in which the husband argues bitterly against a romantic and or in any way exclusive relation between husband and wife. Husband and wife, says the husband, have a mutual obligation to support each other's household duty and to restrain any bad instincts in each other. 

WIFE: And what I said, was that nothing? Shouldn t they love each other?

HUSBAND: Sure they should. 

WIFE: Sure they should! Is it so insignificant? What has happened to you today? (LH, 8)

 Calm down a little and listen,  says the husband,   and in what I m going to say there is even something about love.  

Who knows what kind of mania modern girls have got [says the husband] day and night they drive themselves crazy thinking of nothing but  Love! Love!  They know nothing about love, they re just playing with words.  If you love without saying  I love you  out loud or without making childish demands isn t it still love? Just look at our older generation of women. They probably wouldn t even understand the meaning of this  Love  you people are so excited about. But does this mean they loved any less or got any less love?  (LH, 8-9)

Any insistence on the individualistic love of husband and wife, the manual insists, will in the end destroy the family.  Whatever you talk about whether it is enjoyment or happiness dharma  must be the foundation for it all,  says the  husband . Too much emphasis on love, in fact, produces an obsession which is unhealthy for girls;  Girls who receive such ideas,  says the husband,  cling to them from childhood as if they are the very goal and purpose of marriage.  

They think constantly of  love   love  and, in the end, some get as obsessed with it as a character in a novel. They can think of nothing else their husband s love seems to be the only purpose of their life. This is harmful both to them and to their husbands. For when the husband thinks  My wife is my all  and the wife thinks,  My husband is my all.   household dharma gets burnt to ashes.[7] Family dharma gets burnt to ashes. And only two people, sitting face to face, night and day, pass their lives (LH, 10-11).

Neither the husband nor the wife may live only for their own love and happiness. Where the manual s second chapter,  Reading and Writing,  will urge women to become literate, implying that a new relationship with their husbands awaits them when they do,  Husband and Wife  forbids any couple to live only for each other.  Bhalobasa, romantic, exclusive love, is trivial and selfish; family, household and dharma must all take precedence over personal happiness, personal choice or  mere  love. For,

it would not be enough for the husband and wife just to love each other. Nor would it be enough for each of them just to search for each other s happiness. The Hindu wife must become her husband s co practicer of dharma.[8] How can you women even call a thing  love  when it leads to the destruction of your husband s dutiful work? How can you call a thing a  search for happiness  when it will bring your husband sorrow in the future?

 Love is a good thing, says the husband, concluding the restatement of an older position,  The search for happiness is a good thing.  

But you women do not understand these things well. That s why you have to be given instruction in this way (LH, 12).

 

Other chapters in The Laksmi of the Home echo the same theme. In  Father-in-law s House  great emphasis is placed on the need to avoid quarrels with one s in-laws. In a chapter called  A Husband s Travels  the wife is discouraged from asking to accompany her husband when he travels away from home for work or school; her departure might disrupt the family. A wife s obligation is not only to fulfill her own household and family obligations but to help her husband do the same.  This then is the work of women,  says the husband summing up,

They must encourage the husband in his dharmictasks and keep him away from things which are not dharmic. Causing a husband to fall into danger for her own happiness is the work of an unfaithful wife (LH, 33).

 

Love and the Reading Woman

The second chapter of The Laksmi of the Home,  Reading and Writing,  is a plea for women s literacy. Here we can trace the impact of both colonial modernity and new structures of education and employment. English educated boys had to anticipate spending time away from home whether at college or for employment; they had to be prepared for the demands of both. They wanted wives equipped to help them cope with the new conditions of their lives. Discussions of literacy frame situations in which a wife s inability to read could bring disaster. In another Bengali manual of the period, A Husband's Advice to His Wife, dreadful possibilities are imagined in the course of scenarios arising out of the wife s illiteracy: a brother-in-law fails his school examination because he is not sent a crucial book; a mother, unable to read the doctor s instructions gives her child a fatal overdose of medicine (HAW, 2-5). Given the new circumstances of school and working lives, boys wanted wives who could read and write (at least in Bengali if not in English); over the second half of the nineteenth century, a girl s literacy became a major requirement in middle class marriage negotiations (Borthwick 103).

In The Laksmi of the Home s chapter on  Reading and Writing,  the author s arguments for literacy recapitulate the new demands of home life in British India. Women, the  husband  asserts, should be able to produce their own letters for husbands away at college or at work. They should be able to keep household accounts and count and add without error; then the husband coming home after  a whole day of working in dripping sweat at the office  can be released from these tasks (14). Women should be educated for the joy of education, to learn about the world  each day you can learn where, when and what is happening,  the husband exclaims enthusiastically,  from the newspaper even while sitting in your own home!  (15) Finally women should know how to read and write so they can pass this knowledge on to their children. 

See what you re saying. . . you don t want to learn to read and write from fear of your mother and later perhaps, your own children won t want to read and write from fear of their mother. . . . A child educated by his mother gets an education he could not get from a thousand gurus (16).

But the women to whom these pleas were addressed only half lived in the colonial present. The Laksmi of the Home wife easily rejects most of the husband s arguments. Women already keep the household accounts, she points out, the elder women of the household do it doesn t her husband think they do them properly? As for the need to write letters how long will they be separated, she asks, that she would need this knowledge? Besides writing and reading is necessary only for those who work outside the house.  Ah!  she says,  So the wife should put on pantaloons and a loose robe [office clothing] and go off to the office every once in a while, is that it?  (13) Only the husband s final argument, that education will make her a better mother, carries sufficient weight to overcome her reluctance. 

The case for literacy proceeds, in this chapter, on several levels, through the husband s explicit arguments, but also through the implicit suggestion that accompany them.  For literacy, the author implies, will enable a wife to have a different, more intimate and exclusive relationship with her husband. Education will enable her to share his life more fully; in fact,  if a wife is to be her husband s friend and assistant in all worldly matters, then education is her duty.  (14) Literacy will not only make the wife more her husband s friend, it will enable husband and wife to communicate in a more intimate, direct manner. The wife who learns to read will share the secret thoughts of her husband.  Saroj,  says the husband,

don t you see how wrong it is not to learn how to read and write. I'll write to you but you won t be able to read my letter.  Someone else will read it to you. Because of that I won t be able to write you my most innermost thoughts.  Or perhaps I'll be anxious to get news from you. But before you can send a letter, you ll first have to flatter someone else into writing it. So only at the end of the month (if even then) will you be able to send me a letter. That letter will also have been written by someone else so I won t be able to learn everything you want to say from it either (13).

All the things he has told her on previous visits will become part of an exclusive bond between them. By remaining illiterate she may even be rejecting this bond.  When I come, I say the same things over and over ,  the husband says,  you don t pay any attention.   (13)

In a long sequence at the end of the second chapter the husband   dreams of what it will be like when his wife has finally learned to read and write.  You don t know how delighted I ll be,  he tells her,  the day I get the first letter you write yourself.  

Today, finally, after such a long time, you ve said  I will learn to read and write . Can I make you understand how much this pleases me?

Just now, as if in my dreams, I see you sitting down to write me a letter. How shy you feel, writing for the first time. How many things you write down only to cross them out. Finally you write a letter and send it to me, I can see myself reading that letter, reading it over and over again, one time two times so many times and still I can t get enough of it. 

Again, as if in my dreams, I see you sitting in front of me reading, very slowly, one of the Betal stories.  Your hair has blown loose and keeps falling forward across your face. Your two lips are moving very slowly. I watch all this with insatiable eyes. The whole world seems empty as the sky, all of my senses center in my eyes and as I watch this incomparable sight, I seem to have reached heavenly bliss. Ah ha! Will such a day come? (17)

In this dream, husband and wife are alone in the world. She is the sole focus of his attention, the only object of his  insatiable eyes. Neither the  world  nor the  family  can come between them and only his relationship with her has significance. The intensely romantic and exclusive relationship imagined in this chapter was, one suspects, equally attractive to the young girls for whom the text was intended and to the twenty-two year old author who wrote this book. 

 

Love and the Ancient Aryans

But the exclusive intimacy of the literacy chapter takes on a different significance within the manual as a whole. For it is exactly this kind of love relationship that the author has already explicitly rejected as selfish, foolish and undesirable in much of the rest of his book. Maintaining a simultaneous commitment to the reforms of colonial modernity and to family dharma, requires some fancy footwork and the rapid shifting of several analytical categories. Here Girijaprasanna follows a path taken by many proto-nationalists of the period and, even more explicitly, by nationalists at the turn of the last century. Outdated ideas on women s roles and conduct (old patriarchy) are dismissed as the superstitions of elderly women; the tensions of domestic life are attributed to the malice, envy and quarreling of family women; and the roles and relationships of a reformed domesticity necessary to meet new demands of life in British ruled India (new patriarchy) are discovered not to be new at all. Instead, such reforms are identified as the reassertion of ancient Aryan customs, a revival of the far distant past in the colonial present. In  Father-in-law s House  the author argues that girls should speak freely with their in-laws, and repeats a common manual axiom: just as daughters speak freely with their own parents, so daughters-in-law should speak freely with their newly adopted  parents , that is, with their in-laws.  Fine,  says the wife dismissively,  all your ideas are English.  No, no, says the husband,  this isn t an English idea, this is our own native country s view.  

WIFE: [sarcastic] Oh yes And where have you seen a newly married girl speaking with her father and mother in law? (LH, 31)

Nowhere, concedes the husband, but it is important to understand the reason why:

It's in our Sastras that one should not spend too much time in the presence of the elders. Who knows whether by some chance word or action one might insult them. So, in the same way, you should realize that this business of not speaking to the in laws also exists for the same reason. If you did speak to your elders, such as your mother in law, or your elder sister in law and so on, then perhaps one day, they might be slighted by something said, or perhaps one day you might even quarrel openly with them to their faces. (LH, 32)

Still such restrictions, however rational in the past, no longer serve the colonial present. New patriarchy requires that wives enjoy greater freedom within the domestic world. Thus, Girijaprasanna s manual explains that not speaking to one s in-laws is only for  uneducated people.   I don t want you to be like that,  says the husband. 

 What I want,  he continues,

is for you to behave with whomever you may call  Mother  or  Elder Sister  as if they really were your mother or your elder sister then there should be no possibility of a quarrel or an argument developing. And as long as you can understand the reason for the custom of not speaking with them, then even if you did talk to them, it couldn t do very much harm.  

 Okay,  says the wife, but won t people criticize me if I do this? But in the imaginary world of Indian advice literature no wife is ever faulted for following her husband s advice.  If there s nothing to criticize you for on any other account,  says the husband,  then it seems to me they should never criticize you for this.  (LH, 33)

In Girijaprasanna s manual, a husband s authority over his wife and the degree to which his advice demands changes in her education and behavior is not seen to challenge the older family order, but to support it. For many manual authors, as for Girijaprasanna himself, the domestic world was not being newly imagined but reformed. Rid of the degradations caused by the ignorant and superstitious practices of elderly  aunties , domestic life would be returned to the Sastric glories of the ancient Hindu past. As domestic life was freed from the grip of quarreling and envious womenfolk (and re-established once more firmly under the control of men), family dharma would be maintained; devotion to family elders would be maintained. And, once more under the watchful authority and guidance of her  husband , the reformed  wife  would rule over the household, a household she would maintain (as in the past) in peace, harmony and good order.  Be devoted to your in-laws as you are to your parents,  the text intones, as the convolutions of this argument dissolve into a simpler plea for family harmony:

Look on your elder and younger sisters in law and the wives of your elder brother and younger brother as elder sisters and younger sisters. Never allow yourself to feel envy, malice, anger or hurt feelings towards these people. If you do these things, there will be happiness in the family. There s no one more ill fated than the husband of a malicious wife. In a home where there s always envy, malice, rivalry, bad feelings, where there are always quarrels and grumbling in those homes Laksmi does not stay (LH, 34).

 *          *          *

Two roles for women in relation to husband and family: one requires the subordination of all personal wishes and desires to family obligations and responsibilities; the second, imagines a household of good order and a husband and wife in an intimate and exclusive love relationship from which the rest of the world is excluded. To some extent, context helps produce these contradictions. The manual's chapter on  Housewifery,  for instance, takes place in a conceptual context shaped by colonial modernity and transnational ideas on system, order, efficiency and hygiene, by separate spheres and a wife s obligation to rule over her domestic realm. 

For in fact, [says the manual] the home is a small kingdom the housewife is its queen. 

All these concepts are familiar to Girijaprasanna even if he has little to offer in the way of specific advice.  Keep the household s things in their proper places,  he has his  husband  say, quoting vaguely,    Do the proper tasks at the proper time  and so on and so forth.  

But, as this author turns to consider women s family relations  in  Husband and Wife,  for example, or in  Father-in-laws  House,  or  The Mother-in-law and the Daughter-in-law,  the context shifts: now we are in the world of indigenous Hindu home and family life. This is the world of the griho-lokkhi, the world of family dharma, of multiple family obligations and connections, the world of the sati (the devoted wife) and the pativrata (the wife devoted to her husband through her prayers and vows). As we have seen Girijaprasanna not only uses the language of indigenous home life in these sections, he restates that world s older concepts and values. 

Finally, in the chapter on literacy the author returns to the more modern context a context marked by the discourses of colonial modernity and made inescapable by the changed circumstances of life in British India (and by young men s wishes to determine the conduct and behavior of their wives). The manual here is set in a world changed by British rule and British institutions.  Literacy  here stands for far more than the ability to read and write it represents colonial modernity and adaptation to a new cultural order in the hybrid world of British India. The subject itself carries these connotations and Girijaprasanna adjusts his view of women s relationship to the demands of this new context.[9]

In the end, the author of The Laksmi of the Home is unable to reconcile the demands of romantic love and dyadic, nuclear husband/wife relations with those of family dharma. Most late 19th century manuals avoid this conflict, as I have suggested, by not discussing it. And by the 20th century, the conflict would seem moot: nationalist rhetoric would so thoroughly appropriate the language and discourse of the transnational (once Western) domesticity as to render invisible their origins in the transnational worlds of the earlier period. By the 20th century, the husband s role in Hindu family life and his authority within that family over his wife would come to be seen as axiomatic, another element of lost Aryan traditions now restored to nationalist consciousness in the present. 

In 1888, however, none of this had happened and young men such as Girijaprasanna had to live with their uncertainties. If The Laksmi of the Home was unwilling to reconcile the demands of romantic love with those of family dharma, it may be because its author could not bear to imagine a life outside the embrace of the indigenous family, a life without the daily habits and practices of the indigenous home. Living in a world which demanded system, order and timeliness (as adaptations to its new cultural order), attracted to the romantic intimacy and exclusivity of companionate marriage, this author, and others like him, could still dread a future cut off from the world of the extended family. The emptiness that awaited those who forsook family duties the unbearable bleakness of the world beyond the connections of extended family life is captured in an early image of the text: Love! love! says the husband, girls will go mad if they think only of love If  the husband thinks  My wife is my all  and the wife thinks,  My husband is my all.   household dharma gets burnt to ashes. Family dharma gets burnt to ashes.  

And only two people, sitting face to face, night and day, pass their lives (LH, 11).


Notes

[1] This essay has been excerpted from Chapter 5:  'Love and Misogyny' in my study What Women Learned When Men Gave Them Advice:  Rewriting Patriarchy in Late Nineteenth Century India.  The larger work studies changing gender and family relations in late 19th century Bengal and India by reading a collection of Bengali language domestic manuals against domestic and biographical literatures from other regions of India.

[2] See the six  novels of the Palliser series, for example:  Can You Forgive Her?, Phineas Finn, The Eustace Diamonds,  Phineas Redux, The Prime Minister, and The Duke's Children (Oxford University Press).

[3] Here I follow Ahearn (2001a) who has shown in the context of 20th century Nepali villagers' lives and relations that love, literacy and development ideology and language are all mutually constitutive and mutually implicated in the construction of those villagers' modern selves.

[4] By new patriarchy (a term first used by Chatterjee, 1986, 1993) I mean the collection of ideas and practices relating to women's roles and relationships in family life advanced by reform-minded (proto-nationalist) English educated men in this period.  These changes were "new" because they challenged indigenous customs and practices  by allowing women's literacy and education, by encouraging them to travel outside the home;  but they were "patriarchy" because they maintained women in a dependent and subordinate status within Indian society.

[5] We must also contextualize the period's romantic preoccupations, however, in terms of the many sources that speak of (middle class, urban) husbands' physical violence towards their wives.  Kosambi makes this point about Maharashtrian family relations, but physical violence towards women in this period is certainly not limited to western India.  The Bengali manual, The Laksmi of the Home, includes a chapter on "Reforming the Character of the Unfaithful Husband."  There a wife, physically abused by her drunken and drug addicted husband is advised to use perseverance and suffering to soften her husband's heart and reform his behavior. The 19th century Maharashtrian writer, Kashibai Kanitkar, abhorred the violent treatment often given to both wives and children.  She questioned the basis of the claim sometimes made that men could not treat wives affectionately without spoiling them and making them difficult to handle.  "Men keep on beating their wives as if they were animals, and then say that they feel love for them although they may not demonstrate it," she said,  noting that a rational person could not find such claims credible (Kosambi 2001, 150-151).

[6]  Vidyalanka 1938, 372;  Sengupta 1976, 121;  Bengal Library 1882, 12-13).  Girijaprasanna Raycaudhuri had some help writing the first edition of The Laksmi of the Home.   The first four chapters "Husband and Wife,"  "Reading and Writing," "Clothing and Ornamentation," and "In-laws' House" were written by  Haridas Bandyopadhyay, the editor of the journal Kalpana.  In the second edition, Girijaprasanna rewrote the entire manual, noting that he had changed the original text to conform "to my wishes" (LH, preface to the second edition).

[7] Or, more literally, it goes to the cula, an iron cooking oven that sits on that floor. Wood is burnt in its bottom and food is cooked on its top.

[8] She must be her husband's sahadharmini, the one who practices dharma together with her husband.

[9]Although Girijaprasanna identifies the desire for 'bhalobasa'  as a contemporary nineteenth century obsession-an identification with which most nineteenth century Bengalis would have agreed-the conflict between love and family duty (dharma) had a longer history within the Hindu and Indian pasts.  Even the Hindu king/god Rama had had to abandon his wife Sita when his love for her conflicted with his social and religious obligations.


Appendix: The Laksmi of the Home (Grha Laksmi)

by Girijaprasanna Raycaudhuri 

[Girijaprasanna Raycaudhuri's The Laksmi  of the Home was published in two editions in 1884 and 1888.  One copy of the second edition is in the National Library.  Here I translate chapter 2, 12-18.]

Chapter 2: Reading and Writing

HUSBAND:  What's this?  You're very early today!

WIFE:   If I wasn't, would I ever hear the end of it from you?

HUSBAND:   [sarcastic] Well this is quite like Laksmi!

WIFE:   Do you have to go tomorrow?

HUSBAND:   Of course I have to go.  My vacation's over.

WIFE:   When will you come back?

HUSBAND:   How can I say?  I have to take my exams now, so it may not be very soon.

WIFE:   And I'll be left behind here-won't you please write me a letter from time to time?

HUSBAND:  Suppose I do-what about you?  What will you do?  Don't I want to get news from you too sometimes?

WIFE:   What can I do about that?  Since I don't know how to read and write, I'll have to get someone else to write for me.

HUSBAND:   Saroj, don't you see how wrong it is not to learn how to read and write.[i]  I'll write to you but you won't be able to read my letter.   Someone else will read it to you.  Because of that I won't be able to write you my most innermost thoughts.[ii] 

Or perhaps I'll be anxious to get news from you.  But before you can send a letter, you'll first have to flatter someone else into writing it.  So only at the end of the month (if even then) will you be able to send me a letter.  That letter will also have been written by someone else-so I won't be able to learn everything you want to say from it either.

Saroj, when I come, I say the same things over and over-you don't pay any attention.  True, before you were a child, but now you've grown up, you've become wiser and you've learned to understand things.  Even now, won't you learn to read?

WIFE:   It is my dearest wish.    But Auntie Kanto says  'Women shouldn't read.  Isn't it said that if a woman learns to read, she's bound to become a widow?'[iii]

HUSBAND:   This is all just superstition!  Don't put this off any longer!  As soon as I go, I'll send you a book.  You study it with your elder brother everyday.

WIFE:   But there's no point in my reading and writing.

HUSBAND:   Chi!  How can you understand how much good there is in learning to read and write and how much harm in not learning, and still not want to learn?

WIFE:   The only reason for me to learn is to write you letters.  Other than that there's no point to it-it's not as if women are going out to work in an office.  And I'd rather not learn if people are just going to talk about me if I do.   After all, how long will we be apart?

HUSBAND:   [sarcastic] You've a fine understanding of this.   I suppose there's no reason, other than employment, for learning to read and write!  If a wife is to be her husband's friend and assistant in all worldly matters, then education is her duty.  Education is not just a matter of learning to read what's in a book, it's a matter of mastering what's written there.  The purpose of education is to develop intelligence and knowledge.

WIFE:   Ah!  So a wife should put on pantaloons and a capkan and go off to the office every once in a while, is that it?[iv]

HUSBAND:   Is that the only way for her to help her husband?

Let me make this one small point-when a husband comes back from a whole day of working in dripping sweat at the office and still has to check over all those niggling little household accounts, it's extremely troublesome.  But if, instead, you women would finish off those accounts while you stayed at home, that would be a great help to your husbands.

WIFE:   But we do them now.  If we don't do them, who does?

HUSBAND:  Of course you women do them now.  But can you honestly say you do them in the same way that you would if you knew how to read and write?

When the washerman takes the clothes away perhaps it's true that if you count on your fingers you can remember that the number of items were two-twenties or three-twenties.[v]  But if, among all those clothes, he returns an ordinary shawl instead of one made of very fine material-can you so easily catch that?

Or say the milkman begins to leave milk everyday and you scratch a mark on the wall for each day that he does.  But if one of your marks gets erased or if, by mistake, you make too many marks, you'll be completely befuddled.  Yet this is what you women call 'doing the accounts'!  But if you knew a bit of reading and writing, how well these things could be managed!

WIFE:   But look at Ma and Auntie-they don't know how to read and write and aren't they keeping these accounts?

HUSBAND:   Don't think for a moment that learning to read and write is just for running a household.  Reading and writing is more for the benefit of you yourself than it is for anything else.

WIFE:   How can it benefit me myself?

HUSBAND:   If you know how to read and write, you can always learn new things and your mind isn't so narrowed by superstition.  You can learn so many things about so many countries-each day you can learn where, when and what is happening from the newspaper even while sitting in your own home! 

Reading good books can teach you how to improve your mind.  When you feel sad and you read the right kind of book, it makes all your troubles disappear.  Somehow reading a book at a time of great sorrow lessens the weight of your sorrows. 

There are many virtues to reading and writing, just study a little and gradually you'll be able to understand.

WIFE:   There are many virtues, it's true-but I'm still worried that Ma may object.[vi]

HUSBAND:   See what you're saying-this is the even greater danger of not learning to read and write.  The children of a mother who knows how to read and write learn to read and write quite easily.  But you don't want to learn to read and write from fear of your mother and later perhaps, your own children won't want to read and write from fear of their mother.  It is the nature of infants to learn first whatever they see around them.  And it is especially true that a mother's faults and virtues are most easily carried over to her offspring.  A child educated by his mother gets an education he could not get from a thousand gurus.  I'll speak about all this later.  But do be aware of this-it is also a mother's duty to become educated for the welfare of her children.

WIFE:  It seems you wish me to learn to read and write?

HUSBAND:   That goes without saying!  When will my wish be fulfilled?

WIFE:   What if it were?

HUSBAND:   Truly?

WIFE:   Truly.  I have also wanted to learn very much.   No matter what, you're going away.  And I'll just be dying from restlessness.  Who can I flatter?  Who can I ask, 'Please, take pity and write a letter for me sometime'?   I should learn to write for myself.  Send me a book.

HUSBAND:   I'll send it as soon as I go. Try to study it carefully.  Can you tell me how long it will be before you can write me a letter?

WIFE:   Be reasonable, how can I tell?

HUSBAND:   You don't know how delighted I'll be the day I get the first letter you write yourself.  Today, finally, after such a long time, you've said 'I will learn to read and write'.  Can I make you understand how much this pleases me?

Just now, as if in my dreams, I see you sitting down to write me a letter.  How shy you feel, writing for the first time.  How many things you write down only to cross them out.  Finally you write a letter and send it to me, I can see myself reading that letter, reading it over and over again, one time-two times-so many times and still I can't get enough of it.

Again, as if in my dreams, I see you sitting in front of me reading, very slowly, one of the Betal  stories.vii  Your hair has blown loose and keeps falling forward across your face.  Your two lips are moving very slowly.  I watch all this with insatiable eyes.  The whole worldviii seems empty as the sky, all of my senses center in my eyes and, as I watch this incomparable sight, I seem to have reached heavenly bliss.  Ah ha! Will such a day come?

WIFE:   You certainly know what to say!   And you even managed to dream while you were awake!

HUSBAND:   No, Saroj, this is not a joke.  Won't this dream of mine come true?

WIFE:   It will-it will!

HUSBAND:   Will you be able to write me a letter in one year then?

WIFE:   I will.  But don't be disgusted when you see my scribbling.

HUSBAND:   Disgusted-what did you say?-that I would be disgusted?  That scribbling of yours will be more precious to me than letters of gold.

WIFE:   At the end of one year I will write to you, but even so, don't put all this out of your mind until then.  Send me a letter every two days.  Make your handwriting a little large and I will try to read it.

HUSBAND:   Saroj, how can I say how happy you've made me today?  Now go to sleep, its gotten very late.[ix]

WIFE:   I don't know why, I don't get sleepy when I'm with you.  I only want to hear you talk.  When will you come back?

HUSBAND:   I've already told you, my return's not fixed yet.

WIFE:   I've listened to so much from you, won't you listen to one thing from me?

HUSBAND:   I will-what is it?

WIFE:   Come back quickly.

HUSBAND:   I will.

[i] In orthodox Hinduism, literacy was forbidden to women and members of the lowest castes and most advice manuals included a chapter on lekhapora-"Writing/ Reading" or "Education." Note how, in the following discussion, the presence of a large extended family obviates against a young wife needing to learn how to read.

[ii]  Moner katha: one's secret thoughts, feelings and intentions. This is also a pet name for women's intimate female friends.

[iii]  This Auntie is given a rather unsophisticated name and perhaps the author means this to indicate that such older superstitions were still current among the unsophisticated city "aunties" or among the village relatives of bhadralok girls like the Laksmi of the Home wife. The name Kanto itself (which might be translated to mean something like 'please stop') might be given to a child by a Bengali mother who had had a number of girl children in a row (and was desperate for a boy). For a further discussion of such names are see Sukumar Sen's Women's Dialect in Bengali (1979, 55-57). Thanks to Sucharita Guha for pointing out the derivation of the name and its significance.

[iv]  Pantaloons (penalun) and a capkan (a loose flowing robe) were considered standard nineteenth century office dress, derived most probably from Muslim court dress of the late 18th and early nineteenth century.

[v]  The assumption here is that illiterate women would know the numbers up to twenty (the sum of the digits on one's hands and feet) and everything above that would be calculated as multiples of this 'twenty'.

[vi]  The general context of this conversation makes it clear that the couple is discussing the wife's mother. This manual is not always clear about whose house the wife is in when her husband visits her.  By custom she should be in the husband's home-married girls lived with their in-laws and at their in-law's home. But in several chapters of this text she seems to be visiting her parents. The young age of wives in the nineteenth century made long visits to their natal homes more likely, especially in the early years of marriage (and if the girl's family could afford it). In spite of Brahmo efforts to establish fourteen or (later) eighteen as the appropriate age for a girl's marriage, even in 1887 an unmarried girl over the age of twelve or thirteen was still unusual. The 'wife' in Conversations with the Wife is married before her first menstrual period-that occurs about half way through the book).

[vii]  Probably a story in Betal Panchabingsati ["Twenty-five Betal Stories"] by Isvarcandra Vidyasagar. This Bengali reader, written in 1847, was produced for students at Fort William College, a Calcutta training institute for British civil servants. These twenty five stories relate the conundrums presented to the legendary King Vikramaditya by a wily betal (a spirit which inhabits a dead body). Vidyasagar, a social reformer especially famous for his advocacy of widow remarriage, wrote a number of Bengali primers and readers, some of which are still used in Calcutta today (De 1962, 625; Sen 1971, 170).

[viii]  jagat sangsar: "the world and the family."

[ix]  Here, as in other dialogue manuals, the setting is the night meeting of the husband and wife. A new wife was not to speak to her husband in the presence of family elders nor spend time with him alone during the day. Consequently all the tutoring (and lecturing) of wives depicted in advice manuals was imagined to take place in the depths of the night, when the rest of the family was assumed to be asleep.


Select Bibliography

Translated Bengali Domestic Manuals

MS Bandyopadhyay, Candicara. 1887. Ma o chele [Mother and Son].  Calcutta: Sahitya Sangsad.

BWa Bisvas, Taraknath.  1887. Bangiya mahila [The Bengali Woman].  2nd ed.  Calcutta: Rajendralal Biswas.

WD Dasi, Nagendrabala (Mustophi) 1900. Nari dharma [Woman's Dharma].  Calcutta: Self published.

EG Dasi, Navinkali. 1883. Kumari siksa.  [Education for Girls].  Calcutta: Self published.

BWb Gupta, Purnacandra. 1885. Bangali bau [The Bengali Wife].  Calcutta: A. K.  Banerji.

DW Mitra, Jaykrsna.  1890. Ramanir kartavya [The Duties of Women].  Calcutta: Giribala Mitra.

HAW Mitra, Satyacaran. 1884. Strir prati svamir upades [A Husband's Advice to His Wife].  Calcutta: Victoria Printing Works.

CWW Pal, Dhirendranath. 1883. Strir sahit kathopakathan [Conversations with the Wife].  Calcutta: Vaishnav Charan Vasak.

LH Raycaudhuri, Girijaprasanna. 1888.  Grha laksmi [The Laksmi of the Home].  2nd ed.  Calcutta: Gurudas Chatterji.

Bengali Language Sources

Anonymous. Review of Griha Lakshmi 1884.  Bamabodhini patrika No.  238: 233-234.

Bandyopadhyay, Harinarayan.  1887.  Sisu palan sambandhe pita matar prati upades [Advice to Parents Concerning the Rearing of Children].  Calcutta: G. P.  Ray.

Bandyopadhyay, K. C.  1897.  Stri siksha [The Education of Woman].  Dacca: Bhanucandra Das.

Basu, Isancandra.  1884.  Stridiger prati upadesh [Advice to Women].  3rd ed.  Calcutta: Victoria Press.

_______.  1885.  Nari niti [Rules for Women].  Calcutta: Gurudas Chattopadhyay.

Das, Benimadhab.  1889.  Amader jatiya vigyan: sahadharmini o svami [The Science of Our Community: the Wife and the Husband].  Calcutta: B. C.  Sarkar.

Dasi, Nagendrabala (Mustaphi).  1894.  Prayojanya prarthana [An Urgent Prayer].  In Bamabodhini patrika.

_______.  1904.  Garhasthya dharma [Household Dharma].  Calcutta: Khagendranath Mustaphi.

Devi, Rassasundari.  1956.  Amar jivana [My Life].  Calcutta: Jitendranath Mukhopadhyay.

Dutt, Navakumar.  1900.  Ramani aisarya [The Glory of Woman].  2 vols.  Calcutta: Navakumar Dutt.

Dutt, Umeshchandra.  1884.  Nari siksha [Woman's Education].  2nd ed.  Calcutta: A.  Ghosh.

Ghosh, Susantakumara.  1919.  Nari ratna: kona hinduramanira jivana khahini [A Jewel of a Woman: the Life Story of One Hindu Woman].  Calcutta: Self published.

Kathakacunamadi, T.  1909.  Sasthyadi katha [Stories about Ma Sasthi et. cetera].  Murshidabad: Self published.

Majumdar, Asutos.  1926.  Meyeder bratakatha [Brata Stories for Girls].  Calcutta: Self published.

Majumdar, Jagachandra.  1871.  Niti garbha prasuti prasanga [A Discussion of the Rules for Women Who have Just Given Birth].  2nd ed.  Calcutta: n. p.

Majumdar, Mohinimohan.  1890.  Parinay samskara [The Reform of Marriage].  Calcutta: Self published.

Majumdar, Pratapcandra.  1898.  Stri caritra [Woman's Conduct].  2nd ed.  Calcutta: Self published.

Majumdar, Surendranath.  1919.  Nari ratna: kon hindu ramanir jivan kahini [Jewel of a Woman:A Hindu Woman's Life Story].  Calcutta: Susantakumar Ghosh.

Mitra, Jayakrishna.  1886-1888.  Ramaaer kartavya [The Duties of Women], Bamabodhini patrika.

Mukhopadhyay, Vipradas.  1891.  Yubaka yubati [Young Men and Young Women].  Calcutta: Manomohan Library.

_________.  1906.  Meyeli brater chara [The Downfall of Girls' Vratas].  Calcutta: Gurudas Chaterji.

Pal, Dhirendranath.  1884.  SaUgin [The Female Companion].  Calcutta: Bengal Publishing Company.

________________.  1908.  Stri sahit kathopakathan [Conversations with the Wife].  Calcutta: Vaishnav Charan Vasak.

Ray, Bharati, ed.  1994.  Sekaler narishiksha: bamabodhini patrika [Girls' Education in the Past: Bambodhini Patrika].  Calcutta: Calcutta University.

Sastri, Shivnath.  1885.  Griha dharma [The Dharma of the Family].  Calcutta: Girish Chandra Ghosh.

English Language Sources: South Asia

Ahearn, Laura M.  2001a.  Invitations to Love: Literacy, Love Letters, and Social Change in Nepal.  Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press.

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