90 Classic titles celebrating 90 years of Penguin Books
Saadat Hasan Manto, the most widely read and translated writer in the Urdu language, captured the devastation and absurdity of the partition of India and Pakistan like no other. The Price of Freedom brings together ten of his best stories, focusing on human voices from the religious fracture that forever unhinged two newly independent nations. Powerful, piercing and deeply moving, Manto’s works are key to understanding this bloody chapter in South Asian history.
Saadat Hasan Manto (Urdu: سعادت حسن منٹو, Hindi: सआदत हसन मंटो), the most widely read and the most controversial short-story writer in Urdu, was born on 11 May 1912 at Sambrala in Punjab's Ludhiana District. In a writing career spanning over two decades he produced twenty-two collections of short stories, one novel, five collections of radio plays, three collections of essays, two collections of reminiscences and many scripts for films. He was tried for obscenity half a dozen times, thrice before and thrice after independence. Not always was he acquitted. Some of Manto's greatest work was produced in the last seven years of his life, a time of great financial and emotional hardship for him. He died a few months short of his forty-third birthday, in January 1955, in Lahore.
1 star — for the historical context alone. While Price of Freedom by Saadat Hasan Manto offers glimpses of historical significance that add some value, the rest of the book is a disturbing portrayal of women. Manto’s repeated victimization and sexualization of women, particularly young women, is deeply unsettling.
From the outset, in his the Two-nation Theory, a woman’s value is diminished purely because she is Hindu, which somehow justifies groping and voyeurism by a Muslim man. Had this been a Pakistani woman instead of a Hindu, would that have made a difference to the behavior of the character Mukhtar?
In Siraj, the second mention of a woman is, predictably, a prostitute in a brothel—yet she is oddly described as a virgin...? Manto romanticizes sex work while trying to drape it in the illusion of innocence, as if intrigued more by the paradox than the person.
And in It Happens in 1919, once again, the only 2 women depicted are dancers and singers—reduced to a tired trifecta of roles in this entire book. A wife, a prostitute, or the illegitimate daughters doomed to follow in her mother’s footsteps.
Manto’s narratives leave little room for women to exist as full, complex human beings, outside of being sexualized or belittled into existing with their physical bodies rather than whole beings. Not for me :/
"There, behind barbed wire, on one side, lay India and behind more barbed wire, on the other side, lay Pakistan. In between, on a bit of earth, which had no name, lay Toba Tek Singh."
Wauw ik wist echt niks over dit onderwerp maar ik sta echt versteld. Elk korte verhaal laat me sprakeloos een belicht een andere pijnlijke kant van de 'scheiding' van Inda en Pakistan. Jeetje echt een must read
“A couple of years after the partition of the country, it occurred to the respective governments of India and Pakistan that inmates of lunatic asylums, like prisoners, should also be exchanged. Muslim lunatics in India should be transferred to Pakistan and Hindu and Sikh lunatics in Pakistani asylums should be sent to India. Whether this was a reasonable or an unreasonable idea is difficult to say. One thing, however, is clear. It took many conferences of important officials from the two sides to come to the decision. Final details, like the date of the actual exchange, were carefully worked out. Muslim lunatics whose families were still residing in India were to be left undisturbed, the rest moved to the border for the exchange. The situation in Pakistan was slightly different, since almost the entire population of Hindus and Sikhs had already migrated to India. The question of keeping non-Muslim lunatics in Pakistan did not, therefore, arise.” So begins the opening short story ‘Toba Tek Singh’, of Saadat Hasan Manto’s The Price of Freedom, translated by Khalid Hasan. These brilliant and often acerbic stories of Partition and its aftermath are as relevant as ever, and oscillate from bleak to sharply hilarious on a dime. I especially enjoyed the title story and its sideways glance at heroism and revolutionary spirit squashed and smothered from within. “He had changed. He was no longer the cotton-clad revolutionary who used to make fiery speeches in Jallianwala Bagh. He looked like a normal, homely man. […] What had happened? Had he forgotten the vow he had taken that day? Was politics no longer a part of his life? What had happened to his passion for the freedom of India? Where was that firebrand revolutionary I used to know?” Thanks again to Maria and Penguin for another Penguin Archive book!
An unfortunately humane retelling of what occupation does to society. The work begs a reflection in audiences similar to the question of egg and chicken; what came first? The evil of colonialism or the evil of the human condition?
I have seen critiques of the book’s handling of women during the time of conflict, but I feel it’s a bitter presentation of the degradation to all forms of human life under the circumstances described. The recurring disappointment in aching for sovereignty and failing repeatedly is mirrored by each story’s ending being one of misery and defeat. It’s a shame this book is so unknown as far as the western literary scene goes.
Collection of short stories that depict the realities of the partition of India and Pakistan. "focusing on human voices from the religious fracture that forever unhinged two newly independent nations." Delicate narration that was really soft on the pages despite subject matter. There were two stories in particular (The Assignment, The dog of Titwal) that I thought captured nature's/humanities beauty against the stark contrast of war really interestingly.