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Portrait of a Director: Satyajit Ray
The definitive study of the life and work of India s greatest filmmaker Satyajit Ray was India s first filmmaker to gain international recognition as a master of the medium, and today he continues to be regarded as one of the world s finest directors of all time. His first film Pather Panchali, made when he was in his thirties, catapulted him into the forefront of young directors worldwide when in 1956 the Cannes Film Festival honoured it as the best human document of the year. Several other films by Ray, like Aparajito, Jalsaghar, Charulata, Nayak, Aranyer Din Ratri, Shatranj Ke Khilari, Ghare Baire and Agantuk, made over a career spanning five decades, are considered classics of contemporary cinema. In 1992, Ray was awarded the Oscar for Lifetime Achievement by the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Science and, in the same year, was also honoured with the Bharat Ratna. First compared with Robert Flaherty for his lyrical use of nature and locations, Ray is now regarded as one of the great neo-realist directors. From the beginning he rejected the established path of Indian film production, declaring at the age of I ll go to Germany and come back and make films. He absorbed a remarkably broad culture from his family which had interesting literary, artistic and musical inclinations. With his extraordinary persistence and capacity for work, he simultaneously equipped himself with such thoroughness that he was able to create a masterpiece in his very first film. Marie Seton s classic study of Ray, the product of thorough research and a long and close association with the Ray family, is the most detailed examination available of Ray s work as musician, scenarist and director. First published in 1971, it was last updated in 1978, some fourteen years before Ray passed away. This new and revised edition includes unpublished pieces from the author s further writings on Ray, and an Afterword that takes the story forward to Ray s last film. It will, hopefully, re-introduce the genius of Ray to a whole new generation of readers and film aficionados.
- GenresFilmBiographyNonfiction
376 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1971
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Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews
September 5, 2013
When I was growing up, everyone I knew had a Ray story. We knew, for example, that he got his grilled fish packed from Skyroom, that he loved Schumann’s virtuosos and that he retreated to Puri whenever he got stuck on a script. But we doubted whether Kanu kaka’s Babi pisho had ever truly auditioned for Apu’s role in Pather Panchali or not, and we suspected that the tobacco-pipe that dangled on Taxo mama’s lips all day and night, hadn’t after all belonged to Ray- no matter what the people at the auction said.
Through the book, Marie Seton reaffirms legends and debunks myths about the life and work of Satyajit Ray.
The book is divided into three parts: the first part opens roughly in the late ‘50s- a time when Ray has already made ‘Pather Panchali’ becoming the talk of the town in Cannes and the world and the Golden Lion winning follow-up to the first film- ‘Aparajito’. Then the books goes into a flashback- many years- and shows Ray as a young man who grew exceptionally tall as an adolescent, who fell in love with his cousin, his ancestral lineage: his family’s proximity to the Tagore’s, his days in Shantiniketan where he picked up his first formal books on cinema from the library and developed his interest in classical music. Amongst the memorable tidbits from this part are the ones that touch on his ineptness as a young painter/sketcher (quite obviously, he was a late bloomer), his work as a graphic artist in an advertising firm that introduces him to the work of Cartier-Bresson and brings to him the gift of that trip of London and those ninety-nine films, amongst them De Sica’s ‘ Bicycle Thieves’, that would go on to be one of the turning points in his life and make him go along the path of cinema.
The second part of the book deals with Ray’s cinema. The part is divided into further sections like the Apu trilogy, the Zamindaar films (Jalsaghar, Devi), the Tagore films (Charulata, Teen Kanya) and Ray’s own themes (Kanchenjunga, Nayak). Of course, the fact that the book was first published in 1971 means that Ray’s important Calcutta trilogy doesn’t find a detailed mention. Indeed, his filmography till around ‘67 is covered in detail with a coda for the later films (since the book was republished in ’84 with this addendum). Still, what we get is immensely captivating. While the Apu trilogy deals, as one would expect, with the travails associated with the first film seeing the light of day, the adulation that followed it. The Tagore films talk more about the act of adapting longer works, picking the cinematic parts from it, and weaving a screenplay. The most interesting however is the chapter on ‘Kanchenjunga’, not only because it is in my opinion Ray’s greatest film, but it’s also one of the many firsts- his first original screenplay, his first film in colour. Some of the themes Ray had been working on through the film slowly become apparent through his methods. ‘Kanchenjunga’ is a layered work in terms of its narrative structure that fit a rhythmical musical composition (A to B to C to A and so on) and the central plot residing in an allegory of the setting itself, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Suffice to say, the book does great justice to what is Ray’s greatest film.
The third part shows Ray at work- on sets, in editing rooms, over lunches with crew and cast. It gives us precious glimpses into his very rare bursts of anger, his use of both precision and serendipity in his work, his impeccable sense of casting, music and photography and his now famous laborious storyboarding. He is clearly an auteur and what comes across is his self-assured but distant, almost aloof style of work during his productions with a suffusion of clarity about his medium and his message. He stands out for his boundless energy and indefatigable self-belief, quite like the insubordination of the soul shown by Durga and Apu and their unfortunate family in his own first film.
Marie Seton is neither a fan nor a critic and that’s quite possibly, her biggest strength as a biographer. You must marvel at how, despite the obvious proximity to her subject, she never calls him ‘Manik’ like his other close friends did, until a few times towards the end. He almost always remains ‘Satyajit’ to her and we’re thankful for it. Even today, over forty years after it was first published, her book is one of the truest chronicles of the life and times of one of India’s greatest artists.
Through the book, Marie Seton reaffirms legends and debunks myths about the life and work of Satyajit Ray.
The book is divided into three parts: the first part opens roughly in the late ‘50s- a time when Ray has already made ‘Pather Panchali’ becoming the talk of the town in Cannes and the world and the Golden Lion winning follow-up to the first film- ‘Aparajito’. Then the books goes into a flashback- many years- and shows Ray as a young man who grew exceptionally tall as an adolescent, who fell in love with his cousin, his ancestral lineage: his family’s proximity to the Tagore’s, his days in Shantiniketan where he picked up his first formal books on cinema from the library and developed his interest in classical music. Amongst the memorable tidbits from this part are the ones that touch on his ineptness as a young painter/sketcher (quite obviously, he was a late bloomer), his work as a graphic artist in an advertising firm that introduces him to the work of Cartier-Bresson and brings to him the gift of that trip of London and those ninety-nine films, amongst them De Sica’s ‘ Bicycle Thieves’, that would go on to be one of the turning points in his life and make him go along the path of cinema.
The second part of the book deals with Ray’s cinema. The part is divided into further sections like the Apu trilogy, the Zamindaar films (Jalsaghar, Devi), the Tagore films (Charulata, Teen Kanya) and Ray’s own themes (Kanchenjunga, Nayak). Of course, the fact that the book was first published in 1971 means that Ray’s important Calcutta trilogy doesn’t find a detailed mention. Indeed, his filmography till around ‘67 is covered in detail with a coda for the later films (since the book was republished in ’84 with this addendum). Still, what we get is immensely captivating. While the Apu trilogy deals, as one would expect, with the travails associated with the first film seeing the light of day, the adulation that followed it. The Tagore films talk more about the act of adapting longer works, picking the cinematic parts from it, and weaving a screenplay. The most interesting however is the chapter on ‘Kanchenjunga’, not only because it is in my opinion Ray’s greatest film, but it’s also one of the many firsts- his first original screenplay, his first film in colour. Some of the themes Ray had been working on through the film slowly become apparent through his methods. ‘Kanchenjunga’ is a layered work in terms of its narrative structure that fit a rhythmical musical composition (A to B to C to A and so on) and the central plot residing in an allegory of the setting itself, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Suffice to say, the book does great justice to what is Ray’s greatest film.
The third part shows Ray at work- on sets, in editing rooms, over lunches with crew and cast. It gives us precious glimpses into his very rare bursts of anger, his use of both precision and serendipity in his work, his impeccable sense of casting, music and photography and his now famous laborious storyboarding. He is clearly an auteur and what comes across is his self-assured but distant, almost aloof style of work during his productions with a suffusion of clarity about his medium and his message. He stands out for his boundless energy and indefatigable self-belief, quite like the insubordination of the soul shown by Durga and Apu and their unfortunate family in his own first film.
Marie Seton is neither a fan nor a critic and that’s quite possibly, her biggest strength as a biographer. You must marvel at how, despite the obvious proximity to her subject, she never calls him ‘Manik’ like his other close friends did, until a few times towards the end. He almost always remains ‘Satyajit’ to her and we’re thankful for it. Even today, over forty years after it was first published, her book is one of the truest chronicles of the life and times of one of India’s greatest artists.
January 22, 2023
I was expecting better? I admit, I was not prepared for biography mixing with film analysis — call me old fashioned, but surely the “definitive biography” of Satyajit Ray cannot be just about his work! Where is the man?
August 16, 2025
Marie Seton’s *Portrait of a Director:Satyajit Ray* remains one of the most intimate and comprehensive studies of India’s greatest filmmaker. Written by a critic who not only admired Ray’s work but also knew him and his family closely, the book captures both the scope of his art and the personality behind it.
First published in 1971 and updated in 1978, it inevitably carries the weight of its time, yet its insights still feel fresh because of Seton’s sensitivity to Ray’s evolution as a director and cultural figure. What emerges is less a dry academic monograph and more a living portrait of a man whose cinema fused humanism, lyricism, and intellectual depth.
Seton charts Ray’s beginnings in a family steeped in literature, art, and music, where imagination was nurtured as naturally as conversation.
The early sections of the book illuminate how his training in graphic design and his exposure to Western cinema—particularly his transformative viewing of *Bicycle Thieves*—shaped his cinematic sensibility. The portrait she draws is of an artist who absorbed influences eclectically, from Indian classical music to European realism, and then distilled them into a form that was unmistakably his own.
The narrative of how *Pather Panchali* came into being, against all odds and with very little support from the mainstream Indian film industry, is told with both admiration and rigour. Seton shows how Ray’s persistence, discipline, and capacity for hard work allowed him to make his debut film not only a personal triumph but also an epochal event for Indian cinema.
What makes Seton’s study particularly valuable is her attention to Ray’s range. She does not confine him to the Apu Trilogy, though that alone would secure his place in world cinema. Instead, she examines films as different as *Jalsaghar*, with its elegy for a fading feudal class; *Charulata*, with its delicate psychological textures; *Nayak*, with its modernist exploration of celebrity and identity; and *Aranyer Din Ratri*, with its bittersweet look at urban youth in the forest.
By the time she reaches *Shatranj Ke Khilari* and *Ghare Baire*, she situates Ray as not just a director of Bengali life but a chronicler of India’s historical transitions and cultural tensions. Her prose has a clarity that makes these analyses approachable without sacrificing seriousness, and she consistently ties Ray’s thematic preoccupations—human dignity, social change, moral ambiguity—back to his lived experience.
Of course, the book was completed well before Ray’s final decade, which saw him create *Ganashatru*, *Shakha Proshakha*, and his last film, *Agantuk*. The revised edition addresses this gap with an afterword that attempts to carry the narrative forward, though it cannot fully match the depth of Seton’s firsthand engagement.
Yet even with this limitation, the book holds its place as the most detailed contemporary account of Ray by a critic who had unique access to him. Later scholarship has expanded on questions of politics, gender, and ideology in Ray’s films, but Seton provides the foundational study against which those debates unfold.
Reading the book today, one senses not only Seton’s admiration for Ray but also her recognition of his contradictions. She notes how he resisted the formula-driven mainstream film industry yet was always mindful of his audience; how he combined meticulous craftsmanship with a certain lyrical spontaneity; how his humanism sometimes appeared to soften into nostalgia but was never sentimental.
She places him in dialogue with other great directors—Flaherty, Renoir, De Sica—while emphasising the distinctiveness of his cultural lens. In doing so, she rescues Ray from both the trap of exoticisation in the West and the parochial dismissal he sometimes faced in India.
Ultimately, *Portrait of a Director* functions as both a biography and a critical study, capturing the essence of an artist who was as much a thinker and musician as a filmmaker. For readers new to Ray, it is an excellent entry point, rich with anecdotes and contextual detail. For seasoned admirers, it remains a valuable document of its time, recording how Ray was perceived in his prime. Seton’s close personal involvement with Ray allows her to illuminate aspects of his working method and temperament that might otherwise be lost.
If it occasionally leans into reverence, that is perhaps forgivable, since reverence is not out of place when writing about a figure of Ray’s stature.
Even decades after its first publication, the book endures as a landmark study. It reminds us why Ray’s films continue to resonate worldwide: their ability to balance the deeply local with the universally human, the poetic with the political, and the ordinary with the transcendent.
Seton’s work, both detailed and affectionate, ensures that Ray’s genius is not only documented but also felt on the page, inviting each generation of readers to rediscover the director anew.
First published in 1971 and updated in 1978, it inevitably carries the weight of its time, yet its insights still feel fresh because of Seton’s sensitivity to Ray’s evolution as a director and cultural figure. What emerges is less a dry academic monograph and more a living portrait of a man whose cinema fused humanism, lyricism, and intellectual depth.
Seton charts Ray’s beginnings in a family steeped in literature, art, and music, where imagination was nurtured as naturally as conversation.
The early sections of the book illuminate how his training in graphic design and his exposure to Western cinema—particularly his transformative viewing of *Bicycle Thieves*—shaped his cinematic sensibility. The portrait she draws is of an artist who absorbed influences eclectically, from Indian classical music to European realism, and then distilled them into a form that was unmistakably his own.
The narrative of how *Pather Panchali* came into being, against all odds and with very little support from the mainstream Indian film industry, is told with both admiration and rigour. Seton shows how Ray’s persistence, discipline, and capacity for hard work allowed him to make his debut film not only a personal triumph but also an epochal event for Indian cinema.
What makes Seton’s study particularly valuable is her attention to Ray’s range. She does not confine him to the Apu Trilogy, though that alone would secure his place in world cinema. Instead, she examines films as different as *Jalsaghar*, with its elegy for a fading feudal class; *Charulata*, with its delicate psychological textures; *Nayak*, with its modernist exploration of celebrity and identity; and *Aranyer Din Ratri*, with its bittersweet look at urban youth in the forest.
By the time she reaches *Shatranj Ke Khilari* and *Ghare Baire*, she situates Ray as not just a director of Bengali life but a chronicler of India’s historical transitions and cultural tensions. Her prose has a clarity that makes these analyses approachable without sacrificing seriousness, and she consistently ties Ray’s thematic preoccupations—human dignity, social change, moral ambiguity—back to his lived experience.
Of course, the book was completed well before Ray’s final decade, which saw him create *Ganashatru*, *Shakha Proshakha*, and his last film, *Agantuk*. The revised edition addresses this gap with an afterword that attempts to carry the narrative forward, though it cannot fully match the depth of Seton’s firsthand engagement.
Yet even with this limitation, the book holds its place as the most detailed contemporary account of Ray by a critic who had unique access to him. Later scholarship has expanded on questions of politics, gender, and ideology in Ray’s films, but Seton provides the foundational study against which those debates unfold.
Reading the book today, one senses not only Seton’s admiration for Ray but also her recognition of his contradictions. She notes how he resisted the formula-driven mainstream film industry yet was always mindful of his audience; how he combined meticulous craftsmanship with a certain lyrical spontaneity; how his humanism sometimes appeared to soften into nostalgia but was never sentimental.
She places him in dialogue with other great directors—Flaherty, Renoir, De Sica—while emphasising the distinctiveness of his cultural lens. In doing so, she rescues Ray from both the trap of exoticisation in the West and the parochial dismissal he sometimes faced in India.
Ultimately, *Portrait of a Director* functions as both a biography and a critical study, capturing the essence of an artist who was as much a thinker and musician as a filmmaker. For readers new to Ray, it is an excellent entry point, rich with anecdotes and contextual detail. For seasoned admirers, it remains a valuable document of its time, recording how Ray was perceived in his prime. Seton’s close personal involvement with Ray allows her to illuminate aspects of his working method and temperament that might otherwise be lost.
If it occasionally leans into reverence, that is perhaps forgivable, since reverence is not out of place when writing about a figure of Ray’s stature.
Even decades after its first publication, the book endures as a landmark study. It reminds us why Ray’s films continue to resonate worldwide: their ability to balance the deeply local with the universally human, the poetic with the political, and the ordinary with the transcendent.
Seton’s work, both detailed and affectionate, ensures that Ray’s genius is not only documented but also felt on the page, inviting each generation of readers to rediscover the director anew.
August 17, 2025
The book starts with the remark by Ray, "Someday I'll make a great film!" in 1948, four years before shooting his first film, Pather Panchali which became one of his most remarkable works.
This book felt like a journey for me in getting to know the director Ray. I knew the author Ray as his writings were a great influence on me while growing up, yet I was unfamiliar with him as one of the greatest filmmakers. While reading this book, I tried to watch his films so I could perceive him better and I think it made the film-watching experience more intense for me. The author had a close relationship with Ray and his family and got to observe many of his works. For this reason, the book felt very natural. Although the author focused solely on his work as a filmmaker and did not focus much into the impact of his writings on youngsters.
Anyone who reads the books will be able to find the element that makes Ray so unique and one of the greatest, his deep understanding of human characteristics and his ability to maintain the authenticity of life while presenting it in a positive aspect, rather than focusing on a grim, suffering reality. His characters are often harshened by reality but they find their way through life. He portrays this multidimensionality in such an unfiltered way. Even in a film whose target audience was mostly children, The Kingdom of Diamonds (Hirak Rajar Deshe), he portrayed grave political issues and the exploitation by the ruling class so simply yet masterfully.
This book also discusses his deep affection for music which was an essential part of his films. Not every filmmaker is capable of harmonizing music and film, but this is another of Ray's magic. He skillfully blended Indian classical music which is not bound by rules, with Western music which has a more structured and restrictive path.
Ray was lucky to find a dedicated team to work with, consisting of remarkable and talented people like Bansi Chandragupt as the Art Director, Subrata Mitra as his Cinematographer, and Dulal Dutta as the Editor. Ray's uncompromising yet empathetic personality during his work resonates throughout the whole book. This is why, despite facing barriers numerous times while filming and often struggling with budgets, he kept faith in himself and the outcome was these great films.
I consider Satyajit Ray as a part of my existence, as his writings shaped a large part of my childhood and now in my adult years, he is even more embedded in my soul through his films. I know I am not the only one who feels this way about Ray. As I mentioned, this book felt like a journey for me to help me understand Ray, at least a bit. I felt a pang of emotion after finishing the book because I didn’t want the journey with someone so dear to me to end. But one thing death couldn't take away from him is the impact of his works on the minds of thousands, perhaps millions, of people.
This book felt like a journey for me in getting to know the director Ray. I knew the author Ray as his writings were a great influence on me while growing up, yet I was unfamiliar with him as one of the greatest filmmakers. While reading this book, I tried to watch his films so I could perceive him better and I think it made the film-watching experience more intense for me. The author had a close relationship with Ray and his family and got to observe many of his works. For this reason, the book felt very natural. Although the author focused solely on his work as a filmmaker and did not focus much into the impact of his writings on youngsters.
Anyone who reads the books will be able to find the element that makes Ray so unique and one of the greatest, his deep understanding of human characteristics and his ability to maintain the authenticity of life while presenting it in a positive aspect, rather than focusing on a grim, suffering reality. His characters are often harshened by reality but they find their way through life. He portrays this multidimensionality in such an unfiltered way. Even in a film whose target audience was mostly children, The Kingdom of Diamonds (Hirak Rajar Deshe), he portrayed grave political issues and the exploitation by the ruling class so simply yet masterfully.
This book also discusses his deep affection for music which was an essential part of his films. Not every filmmaker is capable of harmonizing music and film, but this is another of Ray's magic. He skillfully blended Indian classical music which is not bound by rules, with Western music which has a more structured and restrictive path.
Ray was lucky to find a dedicated team to work with, consisting of remarkable and talented people like Bansi Chandragupt as the Art Director, Subrata Mitra as his Cinematographer, and Dulal Dutta as the Editor. Ray's uncompromising yet empathetic personality during his work resonates throughout the whole book. This is why, despite facing barriers numerous times while filming and often struggling with budgets, he kept faith in himself and the outcome was these great films.
I consider Satyajit Ray as a part of my existence, as his writings shaped a large part of my childhood and now in my adult years, he is even more embedded in my soul through his films. I know I am not the only one who feels this way about Ray. As I mentioned, this book felt like a journey for me to help me understand Ray, at least a bit. I felt a pang of emotion after finishing the book because I didn’t want the journey with someone so dear to me to end. But one thing death couldn't take away from him is the impact of his works on the minds of thousands, perhaps millions, of people.
May 12, 2025
আহা! বই বটে একটা! বিশ্বখ্যাত বাঙালি চলচ্চিত্রনির্মাতা সত্যজিৎ রায়কে নিয়ে লেখা ব্রিটিশ অভিনয়শিল্পী, শিল্প-সমালোচক ও জীবনীলেখক মারি সেটনের বই Portrait of a Director. তবে আমি ঠিক নিশ্চিত নই, লেখকের নামের যে উচ্চারণ আমি লিখেছি, তা আদৌ সঠিক হলো কি না; কারণ বইটি যারা পড়বেন, তারা দেখবেন অন্তত দুটো জায়গায় তিনি সত্যজিৎ রায়কে তাঁর নামের উচ্চারণ ঠিক করে দিয়েছেন। সত্যজিৎ রায়ের মতো মানুষ যখন লেখকের নামের উচ্চারণ দুবার ভুল করেছেন, আমার তো সারাজীবনই ভুল হবে।
মূলত ‘পথের পাঁচালী’ (১৯৫৫) ছবিটি দেখে এবং সত্যজিৎ রায়ের কিছু সাক্ষাৎকার পড়ে মারি সেটন সিদ্ধান্ত নেন বাঙালি এই নির্মাতার ওপর তিনি কাজ করবেন। অবশ্য কাজটি শুরু করার আগে সত্যজিতের আরও বেশ কিছু চলচ্চিত্র তিনি দেখেছেন। বেশ তীক্ষ্ম দৃষ্টির এই লেখক কোলকাতায় এসে সত্যজিতের সঙ্গে থেকে থেকে কাজটি করেছেন। সেই সূত্রে পরিচিত হয়েছেন সুকুমার রায়ের সঙ্গে, সত্যজিতের অন্যান্য সহকর্মী, যেমন: বংশী চন্দ্রগুপ্ত, সুব্রত মিত্র, দুলাল দত্ত প্রমুখের সঙ্গে।
বইটিতে সত্যজিৎ রায়ের জীবন উঠে এসেছে নানামাত্রিকতার আবহে। কোলকাতার রাস্তায় হাঁটা, চা বা কফি খেতে খেতে বিশ্ব সিনেমা নিয়ে নানা আড্ডা আর সেই সাথে মারি সেটনের সিগারেট অবসেশন। লেখকের মন্তব্য বেশ চাঁছাছোলা; সে সময়ের হিন্দি সিনেমাকে তিনি যেভাবে সমালোচনা করেছেন, বুদ্ধিহীনের কাজ (Work of Dumb) বলেছেন এবং তার পাশাপাশি বাংলা সিনেমার সত্যজিতীয় ধারার তীক্ষ্মতা প্রকাশ করেছেন, তা অমূল্য। বইটি পড়লে যে কেউ বুঝতে পারবেন, সত্যজিৎ রায় বা বাংলা চলচ্চিত্রের তৎকালীন ধারাগুলো (বিশেষত ঋত্বিক ঘটক ও মৃণাল সেন) নিয়ে বিদেশিরা কী ভেবেছেন। আমরা তো বামন ও মধ্যমেধাবী; কিন্তু আমাদের জানা উচিৎ আমাদের মহাকায় ও প্রতিভাবানদের সম্পর্কে।
তবে একটি ব্যক্তিগত মত আমি এখানে দিয়ে রাখতে চাই। এটা একান্তই আমার ব্যক্তিহত অভিমত। মারি সেটন আরও তিনটি জীবনী লিখেছেন। সার্গেই আইজানাস্টাইন, পল রবসন ও জওহরলাল নেহেরুকে নিয়ে। পল রবসনের জীবনীতে লেখকের একটি ব্যক্তিগত সংস্পর্শের ছোঁয়া পাওয়া যায়। আইজানাস্টাইনেরটাতে তিনি ভীষণ ক্রিটিক্যাল আর নেহেরুর জীবনীতে তিনি সাক্ষাৎ সমালোচনার ভঙ্গি ধরেই এগিয়েছিলেন। কিন্তু সত্যজিতের জীবনী লেখার সময় তার ব্যক্তিগত সংশ্লিষ্টতাকে তিনি আড়াল করেননি, বরং একটু বেশিমাত্রাতেই যেন ফুটিয়ে তুলেছিলেন। তার অতিরিক্ত সিগারেট খাওয়া নিয়ে সত্যজিতের রাগ, বিজয়া রায়কে নিয়ে একটা স্বাভাবিক নারীসুলভ আলোচনা বা সত্যজিতের কাজের সময়টাকে খানিকটা ব্যক্তিগত আবেগ মিশিয়ে বর্ণনা বেশ মনে ধরেছে। এটা নিয়ে একটি চলচ্চিত্র কিন্তু হতেই পারে।
মূলত ‘পথের পাঁচালী’ (১৯৫৫) ছবিটি দেখে এবং সত্যজিৎ রায়ের কিছু সাক্ষাৎকার পড়ে মারি সেটন সিদ্ধান্ত নেন বাঙালি এই নির্মাতার ওপর তিনি কাজ করবেন। অবশ্য কাজটি শুরু করার আগে সত্যজিতের আরও বেশ কিছু চলচ্চিত্র তিনি দেখেছেন। বেশ তীক্ষ্ম দৃষ্টির এই লেখক কোলকাতায় এসে সত্যজিতের সঙ্গে থেকে থেকে কাজটি করেছেন। সেই সূত্রে পরিচিত হয়েছেন সুকুমার রায়ের সঙ্গে, সত্যজিতের অন্যান্য সহকর্মী, যেমন: বংশী চন্দ্রগুপ্ত, সুব্রত মিত্র, দুলাল দত্ত প্রমুখের সঙ্গে।
বইটিতে সত্যজিৎ রায়ের জীবন উঠে এসেছে নানামাত্রিকতার আবহে। কোলকাতার রাস্তায় হাঁটা, চা বা কফি খেতে খেতে বিশ্ব সিনেমা নিয়ে নানা আড্ডা আর সেই সাথে মারি সেটনের সিগারেট অবসেশন। লেখকের মন্তব্য বেশ চাঁছাছোলা; সে সময়ের হিন্দি সিনেমাকে তিনি যেভাবে সমালোচনা করেছেন, বুদ্ধিহীনের কাজ (Work of Dumb) বলেছেন এবং তার পাশাপাশি বাংলা সিনেমার সত্যজিতীয় ধারার তীক্ষ্মতা প্রকাশ করেছেন, তা অমূল্য। বইটি পড়লে যে কেউ বুঝতে পারবেন, সত্যজিৎ রায় বা বাংলা চলচ্চিত্রের তৎকালীন ধারাগুলো (বিশেষত ঋত্বিক ঘটক ও মৃণাল সেন) নিয়ে বিদেশিরা কী ভেবেছেন। আমরা তো বামন ও মধ্যমেধাবী; কিন্তু আমাদের জানা উচিৎ আমাদের মহাকায় ও প্রতিভাবানদের সম্পর্কে।
তবে একটি ব্যক্তিগত মত আমি এখানে দিয়ে রাখতে চাই। এটা একান্তই আমার ব্যক্তিহত অভিমত। মারি সেটন আরও তিনটি জীবনী লিখেছেন। সার্গেই আইজানাস্টাইন, পল রবসন ও জওহরলাল নেহেরুকে নিয়ে। পল রবসনের জীবনীতে লেখকের একটি ব্যক্তিগত সংস্পর্শের ছোঁয়া পাওয়া যায়। আইজানাস্টাইনেরটাতে তিনি ভীষণ ক্রিটিক্যাল আর নেহেরুর জীবনীতে তিনি সাক্ষাৎ সমালোচনার ভঙ্গি ধরেই এগিয়েছিলেন। কিন্তু সত্যজিতের জীবনী লেখার সময় তার ব্যক্তিগত সংশ্লিষ্টতাকে তিনি আড়াল করেননি, বরং একটু বেশিমাত্রাতেই যেন ফুটিয়ে তুলেছিলেন। তার অতিরিক্ত সিগারেট খাওয়া নিয়ে সত্যজিতের রাগ, বিজয়া রায়কে নিয়ে একটা স্বাভাবিক নারীসুলভ আলোচনা বা সত্যজিতের কাজের সময়টাকে খানিকটা ব্যক্তিগত আবেগ মিশিয়ে বর্ণনা বেশ মনে ধরেছে। এটা নিয়ে একটি চলচ্চিত্র কিন্তু হতেই পারে।
April 19, 2025
Ray is film and film is Ray, so it was very appropriate for Seton to dissect the man by analyzing his films, too.
April 8, 2021
engaging writing and a really good resource on the behind-the-scenes stories for many of satyajit ray's films. also, hagiographic to the point of ridiculousness but in a way that's more amusing rather than grating.
what is very interesting is the depiction of life before 1971 when the book was published-- the war had not yet happened and bangladesh was not yet a country, indira gandhi had not yet declared emergency, the communists had not yet captured power in bengal, neither sholay nor jai santoshi maa had been released, and ray was still in his "good" period before all the preachy nonsense that marked his later work.
what is very interesting is the depiction of life before 1971 when the book was published-- the war had not yet happened and bangladesh was not yet a country, indira gandhi had not yet declared emergency, the communists had not yet captured power in bengal, neither sholay nor jai santoshi maa had been released, and ray was still in his "good" period before all the preachy nonsense that marked his later work.
November 25, 2016
When i read this book i had liked it. But when i saw the documentary film by Shyam Benegal, by Manikda's own admission, he was mostly unhappy with any biography of his, as they never could express in authenticity what he was all about. Anyways it still remains my favorit, since it was my first peek into my favorit director's world, even if colored (or should i say monochromatic).
July 28, 2019
It starts like an autobiography but ends up being a analysis of Ray and his best works. Great read for all who appreciate Ray's work.
September 12, 2024
Intialaisen Satyajit Rayn urasta ja elokuvista on kirjoitettu valtavasti, mutta harvemmin siten, että kirjoittaja on seurannut kohdettaan vuosien ajan niin työssä kuin vapaa-ajallakin. Marie Seton teki niin ja kirjoitti siinä sivussa yhden kiinnostavimmista Ray-kirjoista. Erityisen paljon hän antaa painoarvoa Rayn ensimmäisille teoksille ja niiden taustoille. Mikäli kirja olisi jatkunut samalla tavalla loppuun asti, se olisi silkkaa kultaa.
Näin ei kuitenkaan ole. Viimeiset merkinnät käsittelevät Rayn elokuvia ohimenevästi, muutamin nopein pyyhkäisyin. Siitä miinusta.
Näin ei kuitenkaan ole. Viimeiset merkinnät käsittelevät Rayn elokuvia ohimenevästi, muutamin nopein pyyhkäisyin. Siitä miinusta.
January 4, 2020
"The exterior of a film is beginning to count for more than ever before. People don't seem to bother about what you say so long as you say it in a sufficiently oblique and unconventional manner–and the normal looking film is at a discount. As if being modern for a filmmaker consisted solely in how he juggles with his visuals and not in his attitude to life that he expressed through the film."
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