Maitreyi

by Mircea Eliade

Set in 1930s Calcutta, this is a roman á clef of remarkable intimacy. Originally published in Romanian in 1933, this semiautobiographical novel by the world renowned scholar Mircea Eliade details the passionate awakenings of Alain, an ambitious young French engineer flush with colonial pride and prejudice and full of a European fascination with the mysterious subcontinent.

Offered the hospitality of a senior Indian colleague, Alain grasps at the chance to discover the authentic India firsthand. He soon finds himself enchanted by his host's daughter, the lovely and inscrutable Maitreyi, a precocious young poet and former student of Tagore. What follows is a charming, tentative flirtation that soon, against all the proprieties and precepts of Indian society, blossoms into a love affair both impossible and ultimately tragic. This erotic passion plays itself out in Alain's thoughts long after its bitter conclusion. In hindsight he sets down the story, quoting from the diaries of his disordered days, and trying to make sense of the sad affair.

A vibrantly poetic love story, Bengal Nights is also a cruel account of the wreckage left in the wake of a young man's self discovery. At once horrifying and deeply moving, Eliade's story repeats the patterns of European engagement with India even as it exposes and condemns them. Invaluable for the insight it offers into Eliade's life and thought, it is a work of great intellectual and emotional power.

"Bengal Nights is forceful and harshly poignant, written with a great love of India informed by clear-eyed understanding. But do not open it if you prefer to remain unmoved by your reading matter.It is enough to make stones weep." — Literary Review

Mircea Eliade (1907-1986) was the Sewell L. Avery Distinguished Service Professor in the Divinity School and the Committee on Social Thought at the University of Chicago. Many of his scholarly works, as well as his two-volume autobiography and four-volume journal, are published by the University of Chicago Press. Translated into French in 1950, Bengal Nights was an immediate critical success. The film, Les Nuits Bengali, appeared in 1987.

Genres: Classics, Romanian Literature, Fiction, Romance, School, Romania, Read For School

200 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1933

About the author

Romanian-born historian of religion, fiction writer, philosopher, professor at the University of Chicago, and one of the pre-eminent interpreters of world religion in the last century. Eliade was an intensely prolific author of fiction and non-fiction alike, publishing over 1,300 pieces over 60 years. He earned international fame with LE MYTHE DE L'ÉTERNAL RETOUR (1949, The Myth of the Eternal Return), an interpretation of religious symbols and imagery. Eliade was much interested in the world of the unconscious. The central theme in his novels was erotic love.

Reviews

[Andreea · Rating 2 out of 5]

I hate him! He gets what he wants, then leaves, doing all kinds of stupid stuff because suffering for love is just so poetic and everybody just loves a sad hero... Or in the beginning when he just couldn't admit what he really thought and mocked everything Indian so that he wouldn't look bad. And in the end he just HAD to be such a cynic about that girl's thoughts <.<

I don't feel like rating this. There were some things I liked but I can't remember them because I'm too furious. I shall rate it in the future, when I may be less subjective.

I just kind of hated everything about this story. The language was extremely sickeningly-sweet and over-affected. The story-line was somehow good but I hated each and everyone in it: narrow-minded people who can only see things one way and no other, who only think of themselves and how something makes THEM look. Some may say this is reality: well, you know what, I despise it! And no, it's not, in reality people do care about each other but this book is written from the point of view of someone very young and selfish.

He's like every teenager out there, imagining "What would people think if I threw myself in the Gange? Will they then understand my suffering? Will they be sorry for what they did to me?" So instead, he doesn't kill himself, just disappears for a few days to scare everyone that he could have killed himself, without it being as definitive and painful as dying.

It's probably the first book I hate with such a passion so you can't say I'm someone who likes to criticize what others write. Actually, I'm pretty generous in my opinions but this book was simply hateful.

Yeah, yeah, great insight into 1930's India and all but you don't really have to read a novel if you want to know those things.

PS: I'm sorry I'm so categorical and I'm sorry if you think I'm wrong. You must know I'm rather sick right now and I may have a fever, so I'm not thinking straight.

[Ioana Fotache · Rating 2 out of 5]

As vrea ca atunci cand ni se preda cartea asta la scoala sa ni se spuna ce om de cacat ii allan, ce abuz de putere face vrajind o fata de jumatatea varstei lui, ce orientalism extrem are in modul in care prezinta cultura indiana ca ceva exotic si primitiv, ce sexist ii modul in care se foloseste de femei si cumva tot el ii victima desi o duce bine-mersi folosindu-se de cine o fi pe cand femeile din viata lui se sinucid sau innebunesc. As vrea ca eseurile de 3 pagini pe care le scriem despre Eliade, marele scriitor romanesc, sa fie despre un roman care invata cititorii cum sa nu fie cand merg in India ca niste albi privilegiati.

Dar nu frate, asta se preda la copii de varsta maitreyiei ca fiind o poveste de dragoste.

[Rowena · Rating 4 out of 5]

*3.5 stars*

It's tough to rate a book like this. Initially upon finishing it I rated it quite highly, but after I've had more time to think about the content, I felt much less compelled to do so.

Bengal Nights was written by a European man in India (Calcutta in the 1930s), so I knew I was going to be shaking my head a lot. I expected racism, exotification, cultural ignorance and superiority, paternalism and simplification of the other, and I got all those:

"Once more I saw that it was civilized people who were simple, innocent, and clear. These Indians, whom I loved so much that I wanted to become one of them, all nurtured in the recesses of their beings a whole impenetrable history and mythology. How deep, complex and unintelligible they seemed to me."

Even so, this is an interesting book, well-written too (at least well-translated). It's the semi-autobiographical tale about a Romanian academic, Mírcea Elíade (in this book he is French and goes by the name, Alain) who travels to India for work. He clearly has a couple of agendas. He is a man who believes he can "save" the country and change things, a man who thinks he knows more about the country because of his "superior" status as a European. He is arrogant but he believes he's benevolent and understanding. The following passage is long but it sums up Alain (Elíade) quite well:

"I was filled with the strange sentiment that I was leading the life of a veritable pioneer, and my work on the construction of railway lines through the jungle seemed to me far more useful to India than a dozen books written about her. I was also sure that the encounter of this ancient world with our modern work had yet to find its novelist. I had discovered an India quite different to the one I had read about in sensational newspaper articles...The deeper I ventured into this wild domain, the more consuming became a hitherto unconscious notion of my superiority, the more violently assertive a pride of which I would never have believed myself capable. I was well and truly in the jungle, no longer a social being with perfect self-control."

Alain falls in love with Bengali teenager Maitreyi Devi, daughter of his employer, and former protege of renowned poet Tagore, and they embark on an affair. The book is an interesting look into the interracial relationships that can be further complicated by race, colonial attitudes, religion, and societal expectations. There are implications for both but, as to be expected, worse and more serious ones for the woman.

Alain is torn between his life as a privileged white man in India and his intrigue for this other exotic life. Perhaps compounded by his love for Maitreyi, he puts India on a pedestal. I've seen this happen before, it's not new, but it is interesting how common it is and how it manifests itself:

"I described my meeting with Harold to them frankly and confided my disgust at the life the Europeans and Anglo-Indians led in Calcutta-- a life of which I had for so long been a part."

What I'm primarily concerned about this book is ethics. The author masked his own identity in the book yet he mentioned Maitreyi's very clearly and even used an identifier (He mentions her association with Tagore's protegee). If he understood Indian (Bengali) Indian culture like he said he did, surely he would have known better than to write such a tale, fictionalized or not, about a person it can easily be attributed to? Additionally, the sexual relationship between Alain and Maitreya is quite explicitly stated, and this was Calcutta in the 1930s, so I can only assume that it was a more conservative time than it is now. I'm curious about what compelled Elíade to put all Maitreyi's business out there, it definitely left a bad taste in my mouth.

After I finished reading this book I googled Maitreyi's name and learned that she had found out about this book through a friend and had flown across the world to confront Elíade. In the end, she wrote about the romance from her point of view (Maitreyi Devi- It Does Not Die: A Romance)

[Nicole · Rating 1 out of 5]

The day I approve of racism, sexism, abuse and another crap ton of bad things, it's the day school wins. But not today, Satan!

[Mutasim Billah · Rating 1 out of 5]

"Really, Alain, how could you fall for a Bengali? They're disgusting. I was born here. I know these women better than you do. They're dirty, and there's nothing doing, believe me, no question of love! That girl will never look at you."

I read this book two years ago, and my feelings about it haven't changed for the better. How to describe it best? I think I've asked myself that multiple times over this time. How do I put it into words how awful I felt about this book. How it only proved the colonial mentality of Eliade's and not so much about the customs of our land, that Eliade merely made a mockery of it all, calling it all savagery?



The racism in the story is blatant, what's worse is that hate is thinly veiled as love. The back-story, as you all know, is of his time in India and his relationship with Surendranath Dasgupta and his family, notably his daughter Maitreyi Devi. Thinly veiled I mean, as the protagonist is called Alain, while the heroine is insulted repeatedly on her lack of chastity, her customs are reduced to nothing in writing, there is no effort made to hide her identity. Every detail, right down to her name and her apprenticeship under Tagore were openly and indiscreetly given and described as someone inferior.



Even in ending, after being shunned from Maitreyi's household, our supposed hero is in the mountains making love to a Jewish woman and the racism is still blatant, as he spitefully talks of sex with a Jewess as a stomach-churning experience. I don't want to waste any more words writing about this. It is like reading some 20th century pseudo-intellectual hate-porn disguised as romance. Someday, I'll get around to reading Na Hanyate, or so I hope.


The book was adapted into a film starring Hugh Grant and Supriya Pathak

[Andrei Tamaş · Rating 5 out of 5]

Cinci steluţe pentru informaţiile despre cultura şi mentalitatea indiană deprinse şi -de asemenea!- pentru faptul că Eliade a fost sincer cu sine şi cu cititorul. Deşi are resurse pentru a descrie iubirea (de citit "Nuntă în cer", un roman psihologic genial!), Eliade nu s-a proiectat pe sine ca un romantic înverşunat, ci ca un occidental care a poposit în India şi priveşte viaţa aşa cum a privit-o şi "acasă", deci niciun "Maitreyi e viaţa mea, aş muri fără dânsa...", ci doar o amintire plină de melancolie neagră. Eu, la câte am auzit vorbindu-se despre carte, mă aşteptăm la ceva wertherian, ceea ce n-am găsit decât pe alocuri (şi în varianta wertherianismului modern), atunci când Eliade nu mai avea bani de ţigări şi se plimba de nebun nopţile pe străzi.
Da, povestea biografiei comune a celor doi e simpatică (citită exclusiv), dar mie, citind cartea, nu mi s-a părut apoteotică...
Interesantă oricum perspectiva din care sunt descrise cele două obiecte ale iubirii ce provind din medii spirituale diferite.

Andrei Tamas,
24 noiembrie 2015

[Guille · Rating 4 out of 5]

Cuenta Paul Watzlawick en su interesantísimo libro «¿Es real la realidad?» que en un estudio que se realizó en Inglaterra en los años inmediatamente posteriores a la Segunda Guerra Mundial sobre las relaciones entre hombres y mujeres, tanto los soldados americanos allí instalados temporalmente como las muchachas inglesas se acusaban mutuamente de falta de recato y de delicadeza en el aspecto sexual. La razón de este curioso choque de impresiones era simplemente que las etapas del cortejo, siendo las mismas en ambas culturas, tenían un orden distinto: mientras que para los norteamericanos, por ejemplo, se llega al beso en una etapa relativamente temprana y no se le da gran importancia, este acto era considerado en Inglaterra como abiertamente erótico y, en consecuencia, no se produce hasta muchos más tarde.

Una parte interesante de este relato que es “Maitreyi”, al menos en sus inicios, es precisamente ese desajuste entre la realidad y la interpretación de la realidad que hace el protagonista y narrador de esta historia de amor entre Allan, el propio Mircea, un inglés de 23 años que se hospeda en casa de su jefe y mentor, y la hija adolescente de este, Maitreyi (curiosamente, este nombre sí es el real), discípula de Rabindranath Tagore y que a sus 16 años ya había publicado un libro de poemas.

“Primero quise a un árbol… me enamoré de uno muy alto e imponente, pero era tan delicado y mimoso... No podía separarme de él. Todo el día estábamos abrazados, le hablaba, lo besaba y lloraba. Le hacía versos, no los escribía, se los recitaba nada más que a él. ¿Quién más me hubiese entendido? Y cuando él me acariciaba el rostro con sus hojas, sentía una felicidad tan dulce que perdía el aliento. Me apoyaba en su tronco para no caerme. Por las noches me escapaba de mi habitación, desnuda, para subirme a mi árbol. No podía dormir sola. Allá arriba lloraba entre sus hojas hasta que empezaba a hacerse de día y me ponía a temblar.”

Otro aspecto que llama mucho la atención, más allá del desmedido racismo y desprecio que sienten los colonizadores hacia los indios, es esa mezcla de fascinación y repulsa que sienten estos hacia el hombre occidental o, por ejemplo, su deseo por tener una piel lo más clara posible (las mujeres de piel oscura necesitaban una dote mayor para poder casarse).

“…son ustedes blancos. Son muy hermosos. A mí también me gustaría ser blanca.”

Una fascinación que también discurre en sentido contrario, al menos en lo que a Allan se refiere, que se siente fuertemente atraído por la profundidad y sencilla moralidad que vislumbra en la cultura y en las gentes del país.

“El nuestro, el de los blancos, es un mundo muerto. Ya no encuentro nada en él. Si me aceptaran, como se lo pido a Dios, en una familia india, encontraría fuerzas para rehacer esta vida mía levantada sobre naderías, sobre intereses estúpidos y abstracciones. Desearía empezar desde el principio, creer en algo, ser feliz. Sólo puedo ser feliz con un amor perfecto, y esa clase de amor no la encuentro más que aquí, en este barrio, en esta casa.”

Pero por encima de todo ello está la historia de amor, una historia de amor adolescente llena de descubrimientos e inseguridades, de tentaciones, de inexperiencia, de anhelos, en un contexto cultural muchas veces insondable que somete la relación de la pareja a trabas que creen insuperables. Allan/Eliade poco a poco se percata de que la sociedad india está muy lejos de esa cultura primaria, salvaje, pura e inocente que él creía, y que, por el contrario, está llena de ritos, prejuicios, jerarquías, supersticiones…

“Una vez más venía a darme cuenta de que sólo nosotros, la gente civilizada, éramos sencillos, ingenuos y claros. Que estas personas, a quienes yo quería tanto que estaba dispuesto a ser uno de ellos, ocultaban, todos y cada uno, una historia y una mitología impenetrables, que tenían un alma espesa y profunda, compleja e incomprensible.”

Una novela cuya lectura me ponía en una situación paralela a la del protagonista, el cual luchaba constantemente contra sus sentimientos incapaz de asumirlos, no queriendo admitir que, adolescente o no, excesivo o no, estaba disfrutando mucho de esta historia de amor.

“… de Maitreyi me atraía otra cosa, su irracionalidad, su virginidad bárbara y, por encima de todo, su fascinación. Y me expliqué perfectamente lo que me pasaba; yo estaba fascinado, no enamorado.”

Quizás el pasado del autor, sus escarceos con el nazismo y su profundo antisemitismo, me hacían leer con el freno de mano puesto, una sensación que se acentuó cuando a continuación de esta leí la novela que narra la misma historia desde la perspectiva de Maitrevi, “Mircea (El amor no muere)” (desde aquí doy las gracias a la editorial Delirio por el acierto de hacer una edición conjunta de ambas novelas), en las que, más allá de las distintas perspectivas culturales, religiosas e incluso personales desde las que interpretar los hechos, esta acusa al autor rumano de mentir en cuanto al carácter erótico y hasta pornográfico con el que describe la relación que mantuvieron, por muy bellos que fueran esos pasajes. Un reproche que hace que leamos la cita con la que se inicia la novela de Mircea Eliade de una forma bien distinta.

“¿Te acuerdas de mí, Maitreyi? Y si te acuerdas, ¿podrás perdonarme algún día?”

[Pav · Rating 1 out of 5]

sper ca eliade se roteste in mormant de fiecare data cand respir Eu

[cosmina · Rating 2 out of 5]

Dezamăgitor. Dezgustător. Deplorabil.

Cartea în sine n-ar fi atât de rea dacă evenimentele n-ar fi bazate pe fapte reale.
Maitreyi se îndrăgostește de Allan după ce el o sărută și pipăie forțat. Normal că după asta fata ajunge să facă dragoste cu el.

SHE WAS 16, MIRCEA! 16!!

La final normal că nu se mai întâlnește cu ea. De ce-ar mai face-o?! I-a distrus suficient viața.

Nu mai menționez aroganța cu care o tratează la început și la final.

E chiar așa greu să fie schimbată programa cu cărțile studiate la liceu? I mean... Ați văzut cum scrie Thomas Hardy un viol? Cum scrie relația dintre Tess și Alec? Naționalismul distruge educația elevilor pentru ca ne limităm la opere scrise doar de scriitorii țării respective în loc să explorăm adevăratele capodopere universale. Abia aștept să mă iau de Ion sau cine știe ce altă carte scrisă de vreun autor român, prin urmare problematic.

update: auziti, eu stiu ca eliade nu i cel mai cel si ca aceasta carte e una din cele mai problematice opere din lit romana, dar a trecut un an de cand am citit-o si in care am citit atat de mult eliade incat pot spune ca este cel mai citit autor al meu. tocmai de asta vreau sa zic ca nu mai sunt complet de acord cu parerea pe care o aveam atunci si ca au existat elemente pe care nu le am inteles din lipsa de cunostinte si poate o usoara ignoranta - ce vreau sa spun e ca e mult mai usor sa judec cartea in tiparul obisnuit pe care l folosesc majoritatea cititorilor actuali, decat sa incerc sa inteleg ce balmajea eliade pe aici. pe scurt, nu i cartea mea favorita de la el. cred ca naratiunea de la persoana intai nu i se potrivea deloc. si mi am amintit, ceva ce scrie el in oceanografie: cartile intelectuale sunt mediocre, se uita, in timp ce o carte proasta iti ramane in minte. la cartea asta m am gandit.

[Pavel Nedelcu · Rating 3 out of 5]

Despre o dragoste interculturală imposibilă.



Cei doi iubiți aparțin unor culturi nu doar diferite, ci total paralele - cea indiană și cea românească.

Proza exotică a lui Eliade recrează o Indie cu contururi neclare, o lume confuză și amețitoare în plasa căreia protagonistul romanului, sensibil și vulnerabil, nu poate decât să se piardă total pe sine.

Mai e vorba și despre imposibilitatea adaptării, despre rigiditatea unei culturi patriarhale și o dragoste atât de romantică și efuzivă, încât câteodată îți vine să pui cartea deoparte și să spui: Da, sigur, vezi să nu!

Dar fiind vorba de taica Eliade, te abții.

[Ana-Maria · Rating 1 out of 5]

If i see anyone defending this racist, sexist, pedophilic man who groomed and sexually assaulted a minor while fantasizing about her naked body when she was literally a child i will out someone. If this is love y'all need a therapist.

[alex · Rating 2 out of 5]

im sorry but mircea was high when he wrote this book.

[silly shark · Rating 1 out of 5]

Nu.

[Andreea · Rating 1 out of 5]

Momentously racist / orientalist / makes me hate humanity, remembering that I once saw no problem with all the bizarre things Eliade writes / does to Indian culture in this book makes me want to hurt myself...

[Seyed Hashemi · Rating 4 out of 5]

شناخت خود در آینهٔ دیگری؛
جوانی [دوباره] بدون جوانی؟


0- ایدهٔ داستان درخشان است: پیرمردی حدودا 60 ساله که دیگر وارد دوران زوال زندگی خود شده است، مورد اصابت رعد و برق در یک هوای بارانی قرار می‌گیرد. این رعد و برق باعث می‌شود پیرمرد داستان ما به صورت معجزه‌آسایی جوان شود و آن هم جوانی با قوای شناختی شگفت‌انگیز و جادویی.

در ادامه داستان، سیر وقایعی که بر این پیرمرد جوان شده که در جوانی خواهد ماند واقع می‌شود را شاهدیم.

1- میرچا الیاده از اسم‌های مهم در تاریخ‌نگاری ادیان، شناخت اساطیر جهان و مطالعات ادیان است. آثار بسیاری از او نیز به فارسی ترجمه شده است و چه بسی خواننده عرفی و "کتاب‌خوان" فارسی‌زبان نیز اگر کنجکاوی در اساطیر داشته باشد، احتمالا گذرش به الیاده افتاده باشد. حال الیادهٔ آکادمیسین و دانشگاهی دست به قلم شده است و داستان نوشته است. آیا موفق بوده است؟ هم بلی هم خیر!

چرا بلی؟ ایدهٔ داستان درخشان است، تا نیمه کتاب به خوبی پیش می‌رود، شخصیت اصلی را به صورت کلی می‌شناسیم و نسبت به جهان داستان غریبه نمی‌مانم. در کنار این، الیاده که مغز خود را با اطلاعات بسیار پر کرده است، لاجرم باید به نوعی این "ذهن علمی" و پر از اطلاعات خود را در اثر نشان بدهد و این اتفاق نیز قابل قبول در اثر رخ داده است. یعنی الیاده نیامده تمام چیزها را بریزد در طبق اخلاص و داستان را تبدیل به متنی کند سراسر از اطلاعات.

چرا خیر؟ ایدهٔ درخشان اثر، قلمی فراتر از یک "قلم قابل قبول" را ضروری می‌کند. یعنی قلم اگر بخواهد حق مطلب را نسبت به ایدهٔ داستان پیاده کند، باید قلمی درخشان باشد که الیادهٔ نویسنده چنین نکرده است. در کنار این در میانهٔ داستان، اندکی افت را شاهد بودیم که البته با پایان‌بندی خوب، جبران شد. در کنار این، اگر این اثر را در مقایسه با آثار ادبی استخوان‌‌دار از نویسنده‌های شناسنامه‌دار قرار بدهیم، ضعف‌های فرمی و تکنیکی اثر هویدا می‌شود. مانند ضعف در شخصیت‌پردازی و مخصوصا شخصیت‌پردازی شخصیت‌های فرعی داستان (به صورت کلی چیزهایی از شخصیت‌ها دستیگر آدم می‌شود، اما داستان خوب چیزی فراتر از کلیات تقدیم خواننده کند. باید شخصیت‌ها را بشناسیم). در کنار این، فضاسازی‌های اثر برای الغای احساسات کار می‌کرد، اما آن تصویرسازی جامعی که می‌توان از اثر ادبی انتظار داشت را در این داستان نمی‌توانیم پیدا کنیم.


این نقدهایی که ردیف کرده ام، دلیل نمی‌شود اثر را ضعیف بدانم که از قضی اثر بسیار برای من تاثیرگذار بود. اما تاثیرگذاری باعث نمی‌شود چشم بر ضعف‌های آن ببندم.

2- "رودین"، "فرنی و زویی" و "جوانی بدون جوانی" چه وجه اشتراکی دارند؟ این باشد برای وقتی که فرنی و زویی را خواندم.

3- در آینهٔ دیگری است که می‌توانیم خود را بشناسیم. به بیانی، سوژگی و فردیت را نیز باید در آینه دیگری شناخت. قدم به قدم می‌خوانیم، زیست می‌کنیم و تجربه می‌کنیم و بیشتر خود را می‌شناسیم. در خواندن با نویسنده مواجه می‌شویم، با شخصیت‌ها زندگی می‌کنیم، با دوستانی در مورد اثر صحبت می‌کنیم و گر نیک بنگریم در تمام این تعاملات با دیگری‌هاست که بیشتر و بهتر، خود را خواهیم شناخت. زیست می‌کنیم، با خانواده تعامل داریم، با سازمان‌ها و ساختارهای مختلف درگیر می‌شویم، با دوستان خود کلنجار می‌رویم و باری دیگر با خود مواجه می‌شویم. هر نوع ممکنی از تجربه نیز چنین است.

حال در این وضعیت که خود در آینهٔ دیگری تصویر شده است و به مشاهدهٔ مجدد می‌رسد، باید حساس بود تمام این مسیر بازشناسی و آشنایی مجدد با خود چگونه است. به بیانی باید آگاهانه رفتار کرد که تعامل با دیگری شاید مارا به خودآگاهی برساند. به ما نشان بدهد که دیگری چگونه در آگاهی ما تصویر می‌شود که این تصویر از دیگری است که امکان مواجه با خود را برایمان ممکن می‌کند. شاید تلاش کنیم در جزیرهٔ تجرد و انفکاک خود به دور از دیگری‌های ممکن زندگی کنیم، اما خب، شاید این همانا توهمی بیش نباشد. حتی خودخواه‌ترین انسان نیز در ذات رفتار خود، بیشترین درگیری را با آن دیگری‌های "فرومایه" و "پست" دارد. به بیانی فرد خودخواه که گمان می‌برد در لاک خود فرو رفته است و به دیگری‌ها کار ندارد، چه بسا بیش از همه خود را در نسبت با دیگران می‌فهمد و همواره دغدغه آن تنظیم فاصلهٔ کذایی با دیگری را دارد؛ هرچه دور تر بهتر. اما هر نسبتی و تنظیم نسبتی، از التف��ت می‌آید و باید ملتفت به حضور دیگری بود. یعنی برای دور شدن از دیگران باید آنان را به رسمیت شناخت.

الغرض، درگیر دیگری هستیم و خواهیم بود. انتخاب من این است که از این امکانی که انسانیت با من ارزانی داشته است، که آن شناخت خود در آینهٔ دیگری است، به تمامه استفاده کنم.


اخطار: شاید اسپویل در پیش باشد!

همان کاری که پیرمردِ جوان‌شده، نمی‌توانست آن را انجام دهد. اینگونه است که پیرمرد جوان شد بدون آنکه بتواند جوانی کند. او جوان شد، اما باید دور از علقهٔ عاطفی و روابط انسانی عمیق می‌ماند. او اگر به انسان‌ها نزدیک می‌شد دیگر نمی‌توانست همانی باش�� که هست. همین برداشت، عمقِ یک سوم انتهایی اثر و پایان آن را برای من معنی می‌کند. اگر استثنایی در جهان انسانی باشی، دیگر نمی‌توانی با انسان‌های دیگر در تعامل باشی.

پس ما چه نیکبخت مردمانی هستیم که امکان زیست در میان یکدیگر را داریم. پیرمردِ جوان‌شده استثنایی بود در میان مردم و تا نزدیک به دیگری شد، محو شد. این همان چیزی است که باعث می‌شود پیرمرد دچارِ "جوانی بدون جوانی" شود. باید درک کرد که زیستن در میان دیگران و بودن با دیگران است که تجربهٔ انسانی را ممکن می‌کند. چه بسا همین فقره، زیباییِ زیست روزمرهٔ انسانی باشد. زیستن در میان دیگرانی عین خودمان که امکاناتی از تعاملات انسانی معنادار اند. افیونِ خاص بودن، دشمنِ انسانیت است. لااقل من اینگونه می‌فهمم.



همین دیگه. اگه تا اینجا اومدی ازت عاجزانه درخواست می‌کنم وقت بذار و این کتاب رو هم بخون. کوتاه و خوب است.

از جمله کتاب‌هایی‌ست که به این و آن هدیه خواهم داد.

[Adina · Rating 5 out of 5]

Eliade este scriitorul meu roman preferat.

[rebe · Rating 1 out of 5]

i hate men

[Maziyar Yf · Rating 2 out of 5]

در کتاب جوانی بدون جوانی ، میرچا الیاده نویسنده رومانیایی کوشیده به مفاهیم عمیقی مانند زندگی ، فلسفه زندگی ،شناخت انسان و زبان شناسی در داستانی با حجم کوتاه بپردازد ولی نتیجه کار داستانی در آمده که اگر چه دغدغه های مهمی دارد اما در پایان کتاب به هیچ کدام از آنها به صورت کامل پرداخته نشده است .
در نبود شخصیتهای قوی و به حاشیه رفتن داستان اصلی ، جوانی بدون جوانی به طرح جذابی می ماند که در عمل مانند ایده ای خام و ابتدایی باقی مانده است .

[Salty · Rating 1 out of 5]

I don't understand why this book is part of the school curriculum. It's racist, misogynistic, bigoted, predatory and it has a perfect example of rape and manipulation.(I wanted to throw away this book multiple times while I was reading it.) He describes Indians as being savages while he "the educated white man" proceeds to take advantage of a child and rape them.

The writing is not great at all, nor is the plot.

Plus, the age gap between the main character and the love intrest was almost 9 years, she was 16, he was 25. Even by Romanian 20th century standards, she was too young to be married, plus she needed her parents' approval.

[DEHAN · Rating 2 out of 5]

ভীনদেশী প্রেমিক বঙ্গদেশীয় প্রেমিকার সাথে উদারচেতা ভাব নিয়ে প্রেম করতে গিয়ে, পরোক্ষভাবে হাতেনাতে ধরা খেয়েছেন। এখন তিনি সর্বশান্ত স্টেজে আছেন। সমাজসচেতন প্রেমিকার বাবা ব্যাপারটি জানার পর খুব দক্ষহস্তে out of sight, out of mind সূত্রের সাহায্যে দৃশ্যপট থেকে প্রেমিককে অপসারণ করার সিদ্ধান্ত নেন। প্রেমিক দেখলেন তিনি না গেলে তার প্রেমিকাটির খুব নির্যাতন সইতে হবে(তখনকার সময়ে প্রেম রোগের পথ্য ওটিই ছিলো) সুতরাং তিনি সবকিছু মেনে নিয়ে "ভালো থেকো,সুখে থেকো আমার থেকে উপযুক্ত কাউকে পাবে জেনে রেখো ব্লা ব্লা ব্লা" বইলা মদের দোকানে গিয়ে মদের গ্লাসে চুমুক দিতে দিতে ভাঙা ভাঙা বাংলায় "হয় যদি বদনাম হোক আরো আমি তো এখন আর নই কারো" গান গাওয়ার মাধ্যমে প্রেমিকা ত্যাগের দুঃখ ও শরাব সেবনের কষ্ট তরান্বিত করার চেষ্টা করতে থাকলেন৷ কিন্তু ভালোবেসে কভু নাহি ভয় খাইবো টাইপ টিনএজার প্রেমিকা তো এতো সহজে মেনে নেওয়ার পাত্রী নয়।
শুরু হলো গৃহযুদ্ধ।
প্রথাসিদ্ধ পিতা-মাতা VS প্রেমের অনলে জ্বলিত পীড়িত ধিকিধিকি বিদ্রোহী কন্যা।
কয়েকদিনের মধ্যে প্রেমিকের কাছে খবর আসলো প্রেমিকার পিতা নাকি তাকে ধরে বেঁধে বিয়ে দিতে গিয়েছিলো আর তখন প্রেমিকা হুমকি দিয়ে বসে যে তাকে বিয়ে দিলে বাসর রাতে সে তার সদ্য বিবাহিত স্বামীর কাছে প্রাক্তন প্রেমের কথা ইতিবৃত্ত জানিয়ে দিবে।
উপযুক্ত হুমকিই বটে! প্রত্যুত্তরে উপযুক্ত হুমকির বদলা হিসেবে কন্যার মুখে এক উপযুক্ত ঘুষি বসিয়ে কন্যার পিতা তাঁর যাবতীয় অভিমান ও ক্ষোভের জানান দিয়েছেন শুধু তাই নয় কন্যা ঘুষি খেয়ে মাটিতে পড়ে যাওয়ার পর পিতা তার পদযুগলেরও সদ্ব্যবহার করেছেন। ঘটনার এক পর্যায়ে হতাভাগ্য পিতার স্ট্রোক হয়। আপাতত তিনি হাসপাতালে ভরতি আছেন। এসব খবর শোনার পর স্বাভাবিক ভাবেই প্রেমিক পলায়নের সিদ্ধান্ত নেন। কিন্তু পুরাতন পাপের কর্মফল থেকে কি পালানো এতো সহজ !
লা নুই বেঙ্গলী স্যাঁতসেঁতে প্রেমের এক হাস্যকর খোলামেলা স্বীকারোক্তি। তবে এতে যা পড়লুম সবই পাত্রের বক্তব্য৷ তালি যেহেতু দুই হাতেই বাজে সেহেতু এক হাত রে কাঠগড়ায় তুলে তার জবানবন্দি শুনে বিচারকের আসনে বসে হাতুড়ি বাটাল নিয়ে রায় দেওয়াটা ন্যায্য নয়। অপর হাতের জবানবন্দি শুনে নেই তারপর ব্যাপারটা দেখতেছি।
সেসকল মানুষদের ও দেখতেছি যারা বলেছিলেন- লা নুই বেঙ্গলী আর ন হন্যতে পড়েন নাই? তাইলে কি করছেন! ট্রাজেডি বুঝেন! দেখি এই কাগজে লেখেন তো, ট্রাজেডি বানান লেখেন! থাক থাক লেখা লাগবে না। যান সামনে থেকে সরেন

[Arupratan · Rating 2 out of 5]

একটা কুলিখিত বই থেকেও অপ্রত্যাশিতভাবে অনেক কিছু জানা হয়ে যায়। মাত্র একশো বছর আগেও ভারতীয়দের প্রতি ইংরেজ জনসাধারণের ঘৃণিত এবং দুর্বিনীত চিন্তাভাবনার কথা এমন স্পষ্টভাবে, উত্তম পুরুষে লেখা অন্য কোনো বইতে পেয়েছি কিনা মনে পড়ছে না। সেই সময়ের বালিগঞ্জ কিংবা আলিপুর এলাকার অবস্থাপন্ন এবং "অভিজাত" ভারতীয়দের হাস্যকর বড়লোকি চালচলনের আভাসও খানিকটা পেলাম (এই ব্যাপারটা যদিও অন্য অনেক বইতেও পেয়েছি)।
ইন্টারনেটের বিভিন্ন প্ল্যাটফর্ম কিংবা হোয়াটসঅ্যাপের মতো আধুনিক যোগাযোগমাধ্যমে ব্যর্থ প্রেমের একটা বিচ্ছিরি রূপ আমরা হামেশাই দেখতে পাই ইদানিং। প্রেমিক কিংবা প্রেমিকা তার ভূতপূর্ব ভালোবাসার মানুষটির সঙ্গে নিজের একান্ত ব্যক্তিগত কথোপকথন কিংবা ছবি/ভিডিও-ক্লিপ খোলাবাজারে উন্মুক্ত করে দিচ্ছে (প্রয়োজন হলে, সত্যির সঙ্গে বেশ খানিকটা মিথ্যা মিশিয়ে— কৃত্রিম বুদ্ধিমত্তাকে ধন্যবাদ)। প্রেমে অসফল হওয়ার পরে নিজের নাক কেটে পরের জীবন বিপর্যস্ত করাই এই জঘন্য কাজটির উদ্দীপক।
মির্চা এলিয়াদ নামের একজন নিতান্ত নিম্নরুচির ইয়োরোপীয় যুবক একশো বছর আগে সাহিত্যরচনার ছদ্মবেশে ঠিক এই কাজটিই করেছিলেন।

[Pingu · Rating 1 out of 5]

It is so bad,I wanna give you a 0,but that's not possible...so I give you a 1.
Sincer ce naiba am citit🥲

[Adelina Traicu · Rating 4 out of 5]

După a doua încercare de a citi cartea i-am descoperit latura pasională, senzorială și în sfârșit sfâșietoare a iubirii.
M-a zdruncinat, căci mi-e greu să renunț la iubiri puternice.
A avut și momente în care păreau de necrezut vorbele, sentimentele dar raportate la trecutul celor doi și perioada respecitvă, parcă prind contur.

[Angela · Rating 5 out of 5]

An absolutely fabulous love story beetwen different worlds, but essentialy the same...The atmoshere is fantastic...you can smell the parfurmes, can taste the flavours, can feel that delicate "sari"...can even think in that specific way..that Maitreyi is used to...
Fabulous and sweet and touching!

[Alice · Rating 2 out of 5]

Re-read şi Eliade e la fel de enervant pe cât îmi aminteam 🧚‍♀️

[kafkaescu · Rating 1 out of 5]

muie eliade

[Raven Sky · Rating 1 out of 5]

Awful. I completely hated it. Allen is so sexist, and arrogant, and annoying and Maitreyi is so childish and naive. The characters were so antipathetic. Maitreyi was crying all the time, but all the time and Allen was so cocky and such a coward. The love story was so dull, absolutely boring. A story about a forbidden love, but with no feelings. This lack of feelings was really sad and disappointing.

[Dystopian · Rating 4 out of 5]

❝ ...Tomar ki mone acche?... Yadi thake, tahole ki Kshama Korte Paro?...❞

❝তোমার কি মনে আছে? যদি থাকে, তাহলে কি ক্ষমা করতে পারো? ❞

বই এর শুরুতেই এমন দুইটা বাক্য প্রাপ্তবয়স্ক পাঠক কে তার অতীতে নিয়ে যাওয়ার ক্ষমতা রাখে৷ আর না নিয়ে গেলেও যদি উপলব্ধি করতে পারে তাহলে এমনিতেই আগ্রহ বেড়ে যাবে উপন্যাসের প্রতি৷

❝ মৈত্রেয়ীর পুরাণ-কল্পনা আমাকে দেবপ্রতিম করে তুলেছে, একটা অবাস্তব আদর্শ মাত্রে পর্যবসিত করেছে। অথচ আমি আমার মধ্যে তার কল্পনার সেই সূর্যকে বা তার স্বপ্নের ‘ফুলকে’ খুঁজে পাচ্ছি না যাতে আমি তার যোগ্য হয়ে থাকতে পারি; আমি তো নেহাৎই রক্ত-মাংসের মানুষ, সব দোষ-ত্রুটি, আবেগ-উচ্ছলতা নিয়েই। ❞

অবশ্যই রোমান্টিক একটা উপন্যাস কিন্তু তার থেকে বরং লেখকের অন্তর্দ্বন্দ্ব প্রকাশ পেয়েছে পুরো বই জুড়ে৷
কখনো ভালোবাসার আগুনে অন্তর্দ্বন্দ্ব আবার কখনো বা বিরহে, সন্দেহে অন্তর্দ্বন্দ্ব। নিজের সাথে যুদ্ধ করে কখনো এগিয়েছেন, প্রিটেন্ড করেছেন আর পাগলের মত জাত, কাল ভুলে ভালোবেসেছেন৷ যখন বাস্তবতা ঘিরে ধরেছে তখনো তিনি নিজের সাথে ভালোবাসার অদ্ভুত এক দ্বিধার জগৎ এ ছিলেন৷ একই সময় তার মনস্তাত্ত্বিক চিন্তাধারা কত দিকে প্রসার করেছে তা শুধু বই থেকে পড়ে বোঝা অসম্ভব যদি না আপনি রিলেট করতে পারেন।

❝ কোনো কোনো শুক্লপক্ষের সন্ধ্যায় চাঁদের আলোয় আমি বনের পথে বেরিয়ে পড়তাম, হয়ত একটা টিলার ওপর উঠে দূরে কোনো অঝোরে-নেমে আসা ঝর্ণার শুভ্র নির্ঝর দেখে প্রাণপণে চেঁচিয়ে উঠতাম—“মৈত্রেয়ী মৈত্রেয়ী” যতক্ষণ না আমি ক্লান্ত হয়ে পড়ি।আমি আমারই শব্দের প্রতিধ্বনি পাহাড়ে পাহাড়ে ধ্বনিত হতে শুনতে পেতাম। যেন এক স্বপ্নের পথ ধরে, অবর্ণনীয় সুখ আর প্রশান্তি বুকে নিয়ে বাংলোয় ফিরে আসতাম; মনে হতো, মৈত্রেয়ী নিশ্চয়ই আমার ডাক শুনতে পেয়েছে, ঐ আকাশের মধ্য দিয়ে বাতাস ও ঝর্নার ধারায় ভেসে ভেসে আমার প্রাণের আর্তি। নিশ্চয়ই তার কানে গিয়ে পৌঁছেছে।❞

আবার তিনিই কখনো অন্য পরিস্থিতে ভেবেছেন -
❝তাহলে কি ধরে নিতে হবে যে সব মেয়েরাই এক! সর্বত্র একই সুর ইয়োরোপ, এশিয়া, আফ্রিকা, বুদ্ধিমতী, বোকা, সৎ, নষ্টচরিত্র যা কিছু হোক। ❞

উপন্যাস যতোই কাল্পনিক হোক না কেন তা আসে লেখকের সত্ত্বা ও অভিজ্ঞতা থেকে৷ বই এর পাতায় এই রকম উপন্যাস অনেকের জন্য মেনে নেওয়া কঠিন যেখানে বাস্তবতা টা নগ্ন ভাবে তুলে ধরেছেন।

জানিনা, আমার চিন্তাধারাতে ভুল আছে কিনা বা বুঝতে ভুল আছে কিনা, তবে " রোমান্টিক " জনরায় আমার অন্যতম প্রিয় উপন্যাস হয়ে থাকবে৷

[Mina · Rating 2 out of 5]

I didn't get bored, but that’s the only thing going for it.

As I see it, she opens her soul to him and he
- calls her primitive instead of listening.
- understands (or does a good job pretending to) next to nothing about their culture and
- leads her on/confuses her/uses her to his own liking and
- dumps her and pretends to go through rehab. It’s very sad. He gives me second hand embarrassment.

Well-written, but this one’s on the Romanian Baccalaureate reading list. If you're in for that kind of thing, I’m not

[Shanje J. Russo · Rating 1 out of 5]

Absolut absurd.
,,Maitreyi", de Mircea Eliade, este probabil cea mai dezgustătoare și pervertită carte pe care a trebuit sa o citesc vreodată în contextul școlar.

Nu îmi pot închipui care a fost scopul celor, care au făcut ,,Maitreyi,, o lectură liceală obligatorie în clasa a ZECEA. Pentru copii de 16 ani. O vârstă familiară cumva ? Da ! Pentru că și Maitreyi era tot de vârta aceasta când și-a pierdut virginitatea lui Allan. Vai de mine !!! Am uitat să menționez cumva ? Allan nu are 16 ani. Nu, dragilor. Allan este un bărbat adult, absolut conștient și răspunzător față de acțiunile sale, în vârstă de 26 de ani.

Haideți să recapitulăm: 16 și 26. 26 și 16. Hmm... Pare suspicios.

Așadar permiteți-mi să mă rectific:
,,Maitreyi" este probabil cea mai dezgustătoare, pervertită și PEDOFILICĂ lectură școlară pe care am citit-o vreodată.

Sunt revoltată că eu, o elevă de 16 ani, a trebuit să trec prin acest chin etern, prin acest iad crunt și această durere psihică agonizantă în timp ce am citit ,,opera" lui Mircea Eliade.

Ar fi fost cât de cât acceptabil dacă cartea ar fi fost scrisă cu intenția de a *atenționa* și *educa* tinerii din ziua de astăzi despre destinele sfâșietoare a fetelor adolescente cu aproape 100 de ani în urmă în India.

Chestia e că nenea Mircea Eliade (aka "dracul literaturii române" încă de la Romanul Ad.Miop) nu avea asta in vedere când a scris cartea. El, din contră, sexualizează toată experiența dintre Allan și sărmana Maitreyi. Creează din aceasta nu mai mult decât un vis depravat erotic unde descrie cu nerușinare și o imoralitate pură conceptul acesta primitiv de a viola o copilă.

Și dacă credeți că exagerez cu termenul, greșiți. Iată câteva citate care mi-au dat lovitura finală. Care m-au convins să ard cartea pe rug. Câteva gânduri din jurnalul cel fermecat al lui Allan:

"Maitreyi începu să plângă și se smulse din mâinile mele. Voia să fugă. O înlănțuii în brațe și îmi apropiai capul de părul ei [...] Nu mă puteam împotrivi ispitelor acelui trup neatins încă de nimeni și o sărutai. Maitreyi se zbătu și țipă, ferindu-și gura..."

,,Nu putea vorbi, nu se putea apăra. Mă apropiai, o luai în brațe, și o sărutai iarăși. [...] În cea dintâi clipă se strânseră sub gura mea, încercând să se apere, dar era atât de slabă încât le deschise și le lasă sărutate, mușcate, supte. Îi simțeam sânii, o simțeam toată."

,,S-a prăvălit deodată la picioarele mele. [...] Ea îmi îmbrățișă picioarele, plângând și se ruga să nu o mai ating, mă implora în numele Dumnezeului meu în numele mamei mele [...]."

,,I-am luat capul între mâini și, știind că nu poate țipa, nu poate striga după ajutor, am sărutat-o pe gură."

"Și când o sărutai, de astă dată pe gură, înțelesei că nu mai era o sărutare de viol, căci buzele ei..."

Evident, sunt o mulțime de aspecte revoltătoare în carte, dar cred că acesta este cel mai tulburător. ȚINÂND CONT că ,,Maitreyi" este bazată pe fapte reale.

Memorabil: "Neastâmpăr pur genital"' când se gândește la căsătoria cu Maitreyi. My man Mircea Eliade really be having a diff type of fantezii fr fr

Ah și btw nici n-am terminat cartea și n-am de gând să o termin. Ultimele 50 de pagini nu le-am putut îndura.