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ଛ ମାଣ ଆଠ ଗୁଣ୍ଠ
This sly and humorous novel by Fakir Mohan Senapati—one of the pioneering spirits of modern Indian literature and an early activist in the fight against the destruction of native Indian languages—is both a literary work and a historical document. Set in Orissa in the 1830s, Six Acres and a Third provides a unique ‘view from below’ of Indian village life under colonial rule. This graceful translation faithfully conveys the rare and compelling account of how the more unsavory aspects of colonialism affected life in rural India.
137 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1897
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About the author
Fakir Mohan Senapati
26 books35 followersFakir Mohan Senapati (Odia: ଫକୀର ମୋହନ ସେନାପତି), often referred to as Utkala Byasa Kabi (Odisha's Vyasa), was an Indian writer, poet, philosopher and social reformer. He played a leading role in establishing the distinct identity of Odia, a language mainly spoken in the Indian state of Odisha. Fakirmohan Senapati is regarded as the father of Odia nationalism and modern Odia literature.
(courtesy: wiki)
(courtesy: wiki)
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 65 reviews
December 10, 2018
Wow! Another brilliant, relatively unsung work of literature in one of the many languages of India; this time from Odisha, a state that's almost absent from the mainstream narrative. I recently went on a week-long trip to this gorgeous state and this was my companion read for the journey.
Six Acres and a Third is an Odia novel written in the early 1900s which in many ways inaugrated modern Odia prose. It is about the machinations of an evil landlord in the 1830s, a land-grabber par excellence who abuses the newfangled colonial legal system to systematically trap villagers in unsustainable debt and seize their lands upon default. Given this premise, I was expecting a relentlessly bleak novel typical of 'social realism' works but boy did this book belie my expectation.
First, the story is told not by a dull omniscient narrator but by a hilarious, wickedly sarcastic, self-referential narrator who belongs more the post-modern literary age rather than the modern. (S)he is a sort of interlocutor between the unlettered rural masses and the emergent Odia middle class employed in government service that's unduly enamoured by colonial values and modes of thinking. The narrator takes persistent digs at this class of 'babus', acting more as a critic of colonial rule and its beneficiaries rather than a teller of simple tales about peasants and landlords. Sample one of these digs below.
The most revered and classical rules of literature require writers to draw the portrait of their heroes and heroines in traditionally prescribed ways. But our writers have a major weakness. When it comes to talking about the heroine, they behave as though they have chanced upon something very delectable and do nothing but describe her beauty, forgetting everything else about her. Classical Indian poets compare the gait of a beautiful woman to that of an elephant. The babus frown on such a comparison; they would rather the heroine “galloped like a horse". The way English culture is rushing in like the first floods of the River Mahanadi, we suspect that our newly educated and civilized babus will soon appoint whip-cracking trainers to teach their gentle female companions to gallop.
And then are the sarcastic references to the ominiscience of narrators itself.
The traveler grabbed his bundle and jumped into the river while the boatman Chandia cried, "Stop, stop!" Before he could swim fifteen to twenty feet, a Gomuhan crocodile swam up and caught him in its jaws. The bundle floated some distance and then sank. Chandia was left staring, "Who was this man? Where did he come from? Where did he want to go?"
You see, dear reader, we are the author, and therefore we are omniscient. We know why this crocodile snatched the man away, where it carried him, whether it treated him well or not; we have answers to all these questions. However, we are unwilling to talk about this openly since Chandia Behera himself kept the story a secret for reasons best known to him.
There is also the delicate subversion of literary conventions and a takedown of linguistic colonialism, in reference to the marginalization of the Odia language by Bengali and English during British rule (the author Senapati himself was a leading champion for the preservation of Odia language). The narrator is also prone to quoting and misquoting prescriptive Sanskrit poems and aphorisms in an attempt to showcase the arbitrary values and vested caste interests the inherent authority of the language imposes on the general populace.
Chanakya says that people who stand by you at a king's court, or in a law court, or at a cremation ground, are your true friends. In other words, your true friends are lawyers in law courts and jackals skulking around cremation grounds.
Overall, this is a stunningly original work of literature that is both a 'view from below' of village life in colonial Odisha and a document of the confusion and legal chaos colonial rule represented for the rural masses, who were pushed into landlessness and insecure tenancy by the Permanent Settlement which meant the consolidation and subsequent auction of zamindaris, often into the hands of non-Odia absentee landowners. However, this historical context aside, I would recommend you read the book for its brilliantly sketched characters, its delicious evocation of 19th century village life & beliefs, and for the highly entertaining narrator who doesn't let the pace of the novel slacken even in a single place.
To sum it up, this is undoubtedly one of the most delightful and polished satirical novels I've ever read. Highly recommended!
Six Acres and a Third is an Odia novel written in the early 1900s which in many ways inaugrated modern Odia prose. It is about the machinations of an evil landlord in the 1830s, a land-grabber par excellence who abuses the newfangled colonial legal system to systematically trap villagers in unsustainable debt and seize their lands upon default. Given this premise, I was expecting a relentlessly bleak novel typical of 'social realism' works but boy did this book belie my expectation.
First, the story is told not by a dull omniscient narrator but by a hilarious, wickedly sarcastic, self-referential narrator who belongs more the post-modern literary age rather than the modern. (S)he is a sort of interlocutor between the unlettered rural masses and the emergent Odia middle class employed in government service that's unduly enamoured by colonial values and modes of thinking. The narrator takes persistent digs at this class of 'babus', acting more as a critic of colonial rule and its beneficiaries rather than a teller of simple tales about peasants and landlords. Sample one of these digs below.
The most revered and classical rules of literature require writers to draw the portrait of their heroes and heroines in traditionally prescribed ways. But our writers have a major weakness. When it comes to talking about the heroine, they behave as though they have chanced upon something very delectable and do nothing but describe her beauty, forgetting everything else about her. Classical Indian poets compare the gait of a beautiful woman to that of an elephant. The babus frown on such a comparison; they would rather the heroine “galloped like a horse". The way English culture is rushing in like the first floods of the River Mahanadi, we suspect that our newly educated and civilized babus will soon appoint whip-cracking trainers to teach their gentle female companions to gallop.
And then are the sarcastic references to the ominiscience of narrators itself.
The traveler grabbed his bundle and jumped into the river while the boatman Chandia cried, "Stop, stop!" Before he could swim fifteen to twenty feet, a Gomuhan crocodile swam up and caught him in its jaws. The bundle floated some distance and then sank. Chandia was left staring, "Who was this man? Where did he come from? Where did he want to go?"
You see, dear reader, we are the author, and therefore we are omniscient. We know why this crocodile snatched the man away, where it carried him, whether it treated him well or not; we have answers to all these questions. However, we are unwilling to talk about this openly since Chandia Behera himself kept the story a secret for reasons best known to him.
There is also the delicate subversion of literary conventions and a takedown of linguistic colonialism, in reference to the marginalization of the Odia language by Bengali and English during British rule (the author Senapati himself was a leading champion for the preservation of Odia language). The narrator is also prone to quoting and misquoting prescriptive Sanskrit poems and aphorisms in an attempt to showcase the arbitrary values and vested caste interests the inherent authority of the language imposes on the general populace.
Chanakya says that people who stand by you at a king's court, or in a law court, or at a cremation ground, are your true friends. In other words, your true friends are lawyers in law courts and jackals skulking around cremation grounds.
Overall, this is a stunningly original work of literature that is both a 'view from below' of village life in colonial Odisha and a document of the confusion and legal chaos colonial rule represented for the rural masses, who were pushed into landlessness and insecure tenancy by the Permanent Settlement which meant the consolidation and subsequent auction of zamindaris, often into the hands of non-Odia absentee landowners. However, this historical context aside, I would recommend you read the book for its brilliantly sketched characters, its delicious evocation of 19th century village life & beliefs, and for the highly entertaining narrator who doesn't let the pace of the novel slacken even in a single place.
To sum it up, this is undoubtedly one of the most delightful and polished satirical novels I've ever read. Highly recommended!
April 24, 2024
A must read recommendation for the youth and the older readers to have a glimpse of how the poor are getting manipulated and how their lives are affected by the greed of the powerful.
The book is translated from Odia and I do feel the translation is done well which I am very happy with.
The writing is quite engaging with the narrator asking questions to the reader about things in general and also about certain humane behaviour when it comes to some specific situations in the story.
A zamindar, Ramchandra Mangaraj, takes every opportunity to snatch away lands from the poor farmers in the village. His greed knows no limit and he has no compassion for anyone. Ultimately his greed wins leading to the loss of the lives of the helpless, with even some losing everything and everyone they have in addition to their lands.
The ending is somehow quite gritty, disturbing and depressing. But I am happy with how the story ends.
The short chapters make the reading a far more enjoyable experience!
A book which needs to be discussed which is quite interesting in terms of caste, societal norms, wealth and overall human behaviour.
A precious book indeed!
The book is translated from Odia and I do feel the translation is done well which I am very happy with.
The writing is quite engaging with the narrator asking questions to the reader about things in general and also about certain humane behaviour when it comes to some specific situations in the story.
A zamindar, Ramchandra Mangaraj, takes every opportunity to snatch away lands from the poor farmers in the village. His greed knows no limit and he has no compassion for anyone. Ultimately his greed wins leading to the loss of the lives of the helpless, with even some losing everything and everyone they have in addition to their lands.
The ending is somehow quite gritty, disturbing and depressing. But I am happy with how the story ends.
The short chapters make the reading a far more enjoyable experience!
A book which needs to be discussed which is quite interesting in terms of caste, societal norms, wealth and overall human behaviour.
A precious book indeed!
September 9, 2013
Fakir Mohan Senapati is widely acclaimed as the father of modern Odia prose. Before him, Odia literature was primarily confined to poems, verses & few occasional essays. Senapati's Rebati is the first published short story in the history of Odia prose.
Six Acres & A Third (Chha Mana Aatha Guntha in Odia) tells the story of a couple in some remote village in Odisha, against the backdrop of poverty, rural traditions & the greed of a zamindar (land lord) out to swindle this couple of their most prized possessions. The possession in this case refers to the couple's extremely fertile farm land measuring Chha Mana Aatha Guntha (or Six Acres & a Third), which were eyed by the landlord. The storyline & it's main protagonists (the farmer couple Bhagia & Saria and the landlord Ram Chandra Mangaraj) are reflections of the contemporary Odia society. In a different era (19th century to be more precise), when the administration was yet to reach remote rural areas, people's lives were guided by the prevailing beliefs & governed by the whims of local landlords. Rural Odisha, alternately ravaged by floods & famines, also suffered due to greed of local zamindars whose only aim was to exploit the local farmers. Added to this background, Senapati's colloquial style of writing & subtle character sketching is what makes it a very interesting read. Then there is Senapati's satirical take of various traditions & beliefs that were prevalent in villages a century ago and how they affected human lives & living conditions.
This book is one among the four novels penned by Fakir Mohan Senapati, the others being Lachama (a name), Mamu (meaning Maternal Uncle) & Prayaschita (meaning Penance) and is probably the single most acclaimed among his works. Apart from this Fakir Mohan has written about twenty short stories (published in two parts with the title Galpa Swalpa) which are again considered landmarks in modern Odia literature.
I read this book for the first time when I was in school & have lost count of the number of times I've read it since. This is a book that truly is a timeless creation. I recommend reading this book in its original form (i.e. the original version in Odia), if you can. That would ensure the original charm is retained and nothing gets lost in translation.
Fakir Mohan Senapati lived in a different era (1843-1912), but his literary skills are unmatched even after a century of his death. I've a feeling that if he were born in a different society, he would probably have got the acclaim at par with Oscar Wilde or O. Henry. Such were Fakir Mohan's wizardry with words, emotions & events! No wonder he is to Odia literature what Maharshi Veda Vyasa was to Sanskrit.
Six Acres & A Third (Chha Mana Aatha Guntha in Odia) tells the story of a couple in some remote village in Odisha, against the backdrop of poverty, rural traditions & the greed of a zamindar (land lord) out to swindle this couple of their most prized possessions. The possession in this case refers to the couple's extremely fertile farm land measuring Chha Mana Aatha Guntha (or Six Acres & a Third), which were eyed by the landlord. The storyline & it's main protagonists (the farmer couple Bhagia & Saria and the landlord Ram Chandra Mangaraj) are reflections of the contemporary Odia society. In a different era (19th century to be more precise), when the administration was yet to reach remote rural areas, people's lives were guided by the prevailing beliefs & governed by the whims of local landlords. Rural Odisha, alternately ravaged by floods & famines, also suffered due to greed of local zamindars whose only aim was to exploit the local farmers. Added to this background, Senapati's colloquial style of writing & subtle character sketching is what makes it a very interesting read. Then there is Senapati's satirical take of various traditions & beliefs that were prevalent in villages a century ago and how they affected human lives & living conditions.
This book is one among the four novels penned by Fakir Mohan Senapati, the others being Lachama (a name), Mamu (meaning Maternal Uncle) & Prayaschita (meaning Penance) and is probably the single most acclaimed among his works. Apart from this Fakir Mohan has written about twenty short stories (published in two parts with the title Galpa Swalpa) which are again considered landmarks in modern Odia literature.
I read this book for the first time when I was in school & have lost count of the number of times I've read it since. This is a book that truly is a timeless creation. I recommend reading this book in its original form (i.e. the original version in Odia), if you can. That would ensure the original charm is retained and nothing gets lost in translation.
Fakir Mohan Senapati lived in a different era (1843-1912), but his literary skills are unmatched even after a century of his death. I've a feeling that if he were born in a different society, he would probably have got the acclaim at par with Oscar Wilde or O. Henry. Such were Fakir Mohan's wizardry with words, emotions & events! No wonder he is to Odia literature what Maharshi Veda Vyasa was to Sanskrit.
March 27, 2026
Chha Maana Atha Guntha (Six Acres and a Third) by Fakir Mohan Senapati is one of the first modern novels in the Odia language. Senpati is regarded as the father of Modern Odia Literature. In colonial India, well before the freedom movement became prominent, he fought to preserve the Odia identity in the face of a foreign cultural and linguistic erasure by the British. His works depict the social, religious, and cultural experiences of people in the Indian state of Odisha, commenting on the unjust systems of zamindari and, in the larger context, the colonial rule.
In this provincial novel, we encounter a nefarious zamindar, Ramachandra Mangaraj. The Zamindars were the land-owning nobility in India since the Mughal era. Their titles were hereditary and came with the power to collect taxes on behalf of the imperial courts. Historically, the Zamindars were seen as a greedy, ruthless entity denoting the systemic shortcomings, especially during the British Raj and in the decade after India’s independence.
In his zamindari, Fatepur Sarsandha, Mangaraj exploits the poor peasants, using crooked ways to annex land and push high-interest debt on the villagers. He harasses the lower classes, scams his relatives, and abuses his wife. His interminable greed drives the story forward. Anyone unfortunate enough to come under his notice is marked to suffer. It would be funny if this weren't an accurate depiction of the many zamindars of the era.
The story’s narrator is sardonic, humorous, and unbiased. Senapati’s astute depiction of Mangaraj’s village highlights the sharp features of social, religious, gender, and economic structures influencing the lives of every man, woman, and animal in it. He lets the readers observe how these underlying forces shape everyday life, often bringing our attention to contradictions in people’s stature and behaviour, to their words and actions, with charming sarcasm and unyielding clarity.
In this village haunted by an evil landlord, the foreign system and the slow erasure of regional cultural identity are subtle, but evident to keen eyes. Senapati makes several references to the encroaching British culture, calling the younger generation educated in English as babus. He pokes fun at the undesirable British presence in the fringes of the novel. In a scene where Mangaraj is produced in front of the judge under a murder charge, an English doctor testifies about the post-mortem of the victim and introduces himself as “My name is A.B.C.D. Douglas; Father’s name: E.F.G.H. Douglas.” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
Senapati impresses you with both his wit and technique. The writing is ahead of its time. At a time when the structure and concept of the novel were still beginning to develop in India, Senapati stands tall as a pioneer. His unreliable narrator and their non-linear narration are masterful. You learn about events before you understand their significance. You are told a murderer is arrested, pages before the murder is described. You are left to guess the significance of every occurrence in this seemingly mundane village.
In the end, this is a fable-esque story of good vs evil, which can never get tiring. Before picking up this book, I had just completed reading Elsa Morante’s ‘The History’. As I read the dreadful tale of Mangaraj’s exploitation, I was unsure if I could handle any more bleak realism. However, Senapati gives the tale a morally succinct ending, in which those who do evil receive their due punishment. He does retain a part of the bleak realism when he suggests that the wheel will continue to spin, and even when those in power change, the people beneath them will continue to suffer. I could cope with that aphorism.
When I was young, I used to watch old Kannada movies on television along with my grandparents. One of my favourite movies, which I would watch every single time it was telecast, was Bhootayyana Maga Ayyu (Bhootayya's Son Ayyu). It is a story of greed, community, evil landlords, and humble village folks. It remains one of the core stories that influenced how I think and interact with the world, with a sweet nostalgia accompanying it. Senapati’s Chha Maana Atha Guntha brought back these memories for me. It is, in essence, very similar to many Indian movies from the 1950s to the 1970s. A recently independent country still had to fight its own evils, and the Zamindars were a core symbol of exploitation and injustice at the time.
I wish more Indian novels of the era would be translated and brought back into the mainstream. Without these, we are left with an incomplete picture of India under the British, focusing on the milestone moments of the British Raj and the Indian Independence Movement. But what of the common folk? What of the people whose lives remained the same, even under the revolving identities and names of their oppressors?
In this provincial novel, we encounter a nefarious zamindar, Ramachandra Mangaraj. The Zamindars were the land-owning nobility in India since the Mughal era. Their titles were hereditary and came with the power to collect taxes on behalf of the imperial courts. Historically, the Zamindars were seen as a greedy, ruthless entity denoting the systemic shortcomings, especially during the British Raj and in the decade after India’s independence.
In his zamindari, Fatepur Sarsandha, Mangaraj exploits the poor peasants, using crooked ways to annex land and push high-interest debt on the villagers. He harasses the lower classes, scams his relatives, and abuses his wife. His interminable greed drives the story forward. Anyone unfortunate enough to come under his notice is marked to suffer. It would be funny if this weren't an accurate depiction of the many zamindars of the era.
The story’s narrator is sardonic, humorous, and unbiased. Senapati’s astute depiction of Mangaraj’s village highlights the sharp features of social, religious, gender, and economic structures influencing the lives of every man, woman, and animal in it. He lets the readers observe how these underlying forces shape everyday life, often bringing our attention to contradictions in people’s stature and behaviour, to their words and actions, with charming sarcasm and unyielding clarity.
In this village haunted by an evil landlord, the foreign system and the slow erasure of regional cultural identity are subtle, but evident to keen eyes. Senapati makes several references to the encroaching British culture, calling the younger generation educated in English as babus. He pokes fun at the undesirable British presence in the fringes of the novel. In a scene where Mangaraj is produced in front of the judge under a murder charge, an English doctor testifies about the post-mortem of the victim and introduces himself as “My name is A.B.C.D. Douglas; Father’s name: E.F.G.H. Douglas.” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
Senapati impresses you with both his wit and technique. The writing is ahead of its time. At a time when the structure and concept of the novel were still beginning to develop in India, Senapati stands tall as a pioneer. His unreliable narrator and their non-linear narration are masterful. You learn about events before you understand their significance. You are told a murderer is arrested, pages before the murder is described. You are left to guess the significance of every occurrence in this seemingly mundane village.
In the end, this is a fable-esque story of good vs evil, which can never get tiring. Before picking up this book, I had just completed reading Elsa Morante’s ‘The History’. As I read the dreadful tale of Mangaraj’s exploitation, I was unsure if I could handle any more bleak realism. However, Senapati gives the tale a morally succinct ending, in which those who do evil receive their due punishment. He does retain a part of the bleak realism when he suggests that the wheel will continue to spin, and even when those in power change, the people beneath them will continue to suffer. I could cope with that aphorism.
When I was young, I used to watch old Kannada movies on television along with my grandparents. One of my favourite movies, which I would watch every single time it was telecast, was Bhootayyana Maga Ayyu (Bhootayya's Son Ayyu). It is a story of greed, community, evil landlords, and humble village folks. It remains one of the core stories that influenced how I think and interact with the world, with a sweet nostalgia accompanying it. Senapati’s Chha Maana Atha Guntha brought back these memories for me. It is, in essence, very similar to many Indian movies from the 1950s to the 1970s. A recently independent country still had to fight its own evils, and the Zamindars were a core symbol of exploitation and injustice at the time.
I wish more Indian novels of the era would be translated and brought back into the mainstream. Without these, we are left with an incomplete picture of India under the British, focusing on the milestone moments of the British Raj and the Indian Independence Movement. But what of the common folk? What of the people whose lives remained the same, even under the revolving identities and names of their oppressors?
May 9, 2021
Touted as the first modern Odia novel, Six And A Third Acres was originally published between 1897-99 as "Chha Mana Atha Guntha" in the literary monthly "Utkal Sahitya." Set in Govindpur village in Odisha, the novel is a hilarious take on the village life in India under colonial rule. It talks about a sly and wicked Zamindar from the village, Ramchandra Mangaraj, who is known for taking over the lands of the poor villagers. Soon, he sets eyes on six and third acres of land belonging to a weaver couple, who falls prey to his devious schemes. As the ownership of the small patch of land passes through many hands, things take a turn for the worse for all those involved.
What I loved the most about the novel is the witty and sarcastic narrator of the story - I can't remember the number of times I burst out laughing at the narrator's tongue-in-cheek humour. That aside, the author has done a remarkable job in portraying some prevalent issues such as village politics, caste-based discriminations, and the oppression of the poor through his characters. Be it the cunning Mangaraj or the god-fearing weaver couple - Bhagia and Saria - all the characters are realistic. Over a century after it was originally published, the book stays relevant to the present times and resonates with generations of readers.
Six And A Third Acres is a funny and captivating read that is perfect for a lazy weekend. I'd highly recommend this book if you're someone who enjoys Indian translations. I'd also recommend it if you are a fan of satires or is looking for something light after a heavy read.
What I loved the most about the novel is the witty and sarcastic narrator of the story - I can't remember the number of times I burst out laughing at the narrator's tongue-in-cheek humour. That aside, the author has done a remarkable job in portraying some prevalent issues such as village politics, caste-based discriminations, and the oppression of the poor through his characters. Be it the cunning Mangaraj or the god-fearing weaver couple - Bhagia and Saria - all the characters are realistic. Over a century after it was originally published, the book stays relevant to the present times and resonates with generations of readers.
Six And A Third Acres is a funny and captivating read that is perfect for a lazy weekend. I'd highly recommend this book if you're someone who enjoys Indian translations. I'd also recommend it if you are a fan of satires or is looking for something light after a heavy read.
July 13, 2020
Brilliant!!!
I hadn't come across a book like this before.
The words like KARMA, oppression, superstition, satire, mockery, corruption, Lanlordism, infidelity are some of the words which go very well with this novel.
And you'll agree with this just after reading first 10-12 pages of the novel.
The novel gives a strong message that no one can escape the consequences of his KARMA.
The novel depicts a very honest picture of the pre-independence Indian society.
Though this novel was originally written in Odia and was translated into English by University of California Press, I never at once felt like reading a translated version of the book as it is translated so well.
I would strongly recommend it to everyone.
I hadn't come across a book like this before.
The words like KARMA, oppression, superstition, satire, mockery, corruption, Lanlordism, infidelity are some of the words which go very well with this novel.
And you'll agree with this just after reading first 10-12 pages of the novel.
The novel gives a strong message that no one can escape the consequences of his KARMA.
The novel depicts a very honest picture of the pre-independence Indian society.
Though this novel was originally written in Odia and was translated into English by University of California Press, I never at once felt like reading a translated version of the book as it is translated so well.
I would strongly recommend it to everyone.
April 28, 2020
So. Fucking. Good!!!!
October 18, 2019
Fakir Mohan Senapati is to Odia literature what Premchand is to Hindi or Rabindranath Tagore is to Bengali literature. He is aptly regarded as father of Odia literature, publishing the first ever Odia short story. Chha Mana Atha Guntha (Six Acres and a third) is his most famous creation and every Odia, remotely knowledgeable about literature, is aware of the tragic tale of the weaver couple 'Bhagia' and 'Saria' and the evil feudal landlord Ramchandra Mangaraj.
However, labeling 'Chha Mana Atha Guntha' as just a mere tragic tale would be same as calling 'Life is Beautiful' a sad movie. Of course, there are tragedies, tales of poverty, exploitation, murder, trial, penance and retribution, but Fakir Mohan goes much beyond those clichés, painting vividly the life of then rural Odisha and presents us, the readers, a deeply satirical take on society crippled by inequality, illiteracy, superstition.
I remember seeing the Odia movie adoption of the book, which limits the story to sad tale of the story of the weaver couple exploited by the evil land-grabbing Zamindar. But, the book is clearly much more than that and the story of Bhagia and Saria remains just the backdrop in the larger story that shows mirror to the feudal society of British occupied Odisha.
The book is little hard to read as the language used is colloquial Odia used 100 years before, however the beautiful narration would many a times make you chuckle while you would be holding back tears. It talks about how the shift of power doesn't reign in exploitation by this beautiful line
"O horse, what difference does it make to you if you are stolen by a thief? You do not get much to eat here; you will not get much to eat there. No matter who becomes the next master, we will remain his slaves."
I would consider myself fortunate to read this wonderful book in the original language.
However, labeling 'Chha Mana Atha Guntha' as just a mere tragic tale would be same as calling 'Life is Beautiful' a sad movie. Of course, there are tragedies, tales of poverty, exploitation, murder, trial, penance and retribution, but Fakir Mohan goes much beyond those clichés, painting vividly the life of then rural Odisha and presents us, the readers, a deeply satirical take on society crippled by inequality, illiteracy, superstition.
I remember seeing the Odia movie adoption of the book, which limits the story to sad tale of the story of the weaver couple exploited by the evil land-grabbing Zamindar. But, the book is clearly much more than that and the story of Bhagia and Saria remains just the backdrop in the larger story that shows mirror to the feudal society of British occupied Odisha.
The book is little hard to read as the language used is colloquial Odia used 100 years before, however the beautiful narration would many a times make you chuckle while you would be holding back tears. It talks about how the shift of power doesn't reign in exploitation by this beautiful line
"O horse, what difference does it make to you if you are stolen by a thief? You do not get much to eat here; you will not get much to eat there. No matter who becomes the next master, we will remain his slaves."
I would consider myself fortunate to read this wonderful book in the original language.
Did not finish
April 19, 2021Some interesting historical detail and a mildly entertaining satirical voice, but ultimately neither enough character development nor enough of a story to hold my interest. Bailed just over halfway through.
January 26, 2024
Fakir Mohan Senapati’s Chha Mana Aatha Guntha was first published in Odiya in 1897. Six and a Third Acres, translated in English by Leelawati Mohapatra, is the first Indian classic I’ve ever read.
Senapati’s colloquial writing style takes the readers back in time to the 1800s to Gobindpur village in Odisha, where the villagers are grappling with poverty, the zamindari system, politics, caste-based oppression, and colonialism. One might think that because of these themes, the story might appear to be a commentary on social evils. Instead, it’s just the opposite. It’s a tongue-in-cheek and ironic take on not just these evils, but also human greed and deceit.
This single line conveys the crux of the story.
Told by an omniscient narrator who is sarcastic, witty, and addresses themselves as “we.” Sometimes the narrator is simply narrating events that may or may not have occurred. And at other times, they are talking directly to the readers, explaining their thoughts and behaviour.
Senapati takes a dig at the working of government officials, prevalent bribery system, the affinity of people towards the colonial rulers, and the influence of English culture on the indigenous way of life.
The book is interspersed with various Sanskrit shlokas, duly translated. These verses add a clever touch to the narration.
Since it was originally written as an episodic series, a lot of the narration involves setting the scenes or introducing the various characters. Despite the prolonged delay in arriving at the inciting incident, it remains an enjoyable read.
Though the story highlights various ills of society and governance, the underlying message of karma is depicted with brutal honesty. The epilogue brings the story to a befitting and satisfying end. I learned a lot about the author’s life from the Afterword section.
I am quoting a few of my favourite lines here-
Pick up Six and a Third Acres if you like classics, translations, or works by Indian authors, or just want to enjoy a witty book with a profound message. Highly recommended!
Wordsopedia Rating 4.45/5
________________________________________________________
Connect with me on Twitter | Instagram | Blog and let’s talk BOOKS!!
Senapati’s colloquial writing style takes the readers back in time to the 1800s to Gobindpur village in Odisha, where the villagers are grappling with poverty, the zamindari system, politics, caste-based oppression, and colonialism. One might think that because of these themes, the story might appear to be a commentary on social evils. Instead, it’s just the opposite. It’s a tongue-in-cheek and ironic take on not just these evils, but also human greed and deceit.
This single line conveys the crux of the story.
It’s destiny that prevails in the end, for everyone everywhere.
Told by an omniscient narrator who is sarcastic, witty, and addresses themselves as “we.” Sometimes the narrator is simply narrating events that may or may not have occurred. And at other times, they are talking directly to the readers, explaining their thoughts and behaviour.
Senapati takes a dig at the working of government officials, prevalent bribery system, the affinity of people towards the colonial rulers, and the influence of English culture on the indigenous way of life.
The book is interspersed with various Sanskrit shlokas, duly translated. These verses add a clever touch to the narration.
Since it was originally written as an episodic series, a lot of the narration involves setting the scenes or introducing the various characters. Despite the prolonged delay in arriving at the inciting incident, it remains an enjoyable read.
Though the story highlights various ills of society and governance, the underlying message of karma is depicted with brutal honesty. The epilogue brings the story to a befitting and satisfying end. I learned a lot about the author’s life from the Afterword section.
I am quoting a few of my favourite lines here-
The rumble of thunder lingers long after lightning strikes.
All shall pass, time will spare none. But remembered will be our deeds.
As long as the going’s good, everyone’s a fawning friend, a salve to lucre, only to fall away at the first hint of misfortune.
A true friend is he who lends you company, who stands by your side in front of royal doors and in cremation grounds.
Pick up Six and a Third Acres if you like classics, translations, or works by Indian authors, or just want to enjoy a witty book with a profound message. Highly recommended!
Wordsopedia Rating 4.45/5
________________________________________________________
Connect with me on Twitter | Instagram | Blog and let’s talk BOOKS!!
September 22, 2022
"Oh, see how we've strayed! What we began with and where we've landed! Unless you row your boat hard, the current always drags it off course. But does a seasoned ferryman easily give up? The same is true of our pen. It might wander a bit from time to time, but never does it lose sight of the main thread. The story will unravel itself."
Chha Mana Atha Guntha was initially serialized in Utkal Sahitya, an Odia monthly, in 1897-99. It has been translated many times since then, the last being the 2005 University of California edition which also involved Paul St-Pierre. This is the sixth translation. Translator trios are rare and three seems too many so I was sure it will feel inconsistent but that is really not the case. It does help that the omniscient narrator is in first person plural and one can't quite make out if it is a royal we or a collective we. There's a delightfully meandering oral storytelling aspect.
The narrative voice is extremely arresting in the way it uses sardonic irony to paint a portrait of rural life where what is said is the opposite of what is meant. Greed and misdeed pave the way for action, only punished as an example of cosmic justice without helping the characters who had suffered. Serialization means that the book is episodic. It takes too much time to set up the main incident and then it swiftly moves through it. The repercussions seem disconnected. I did like its prose, the seamless way the translation uses unitalicized non-English and its meaning.
April 9, 2021
Six and a third acres by Fakir Mohan Senapati was the first modern Odia novel and this one is translated by Leelawati Mohapatra , Paul St- Pierre and K.K. Mohapatra .
The story sets in a village of Odisha in 19th century. British Colonialism was there but people of rural part of this state were still afraid of and worshiping their Landlords. Ramachandra Mangaraj was one of those zamindar who gobbled properties of others by using new laws.
Isn't this plot sounds like already-we-knew-this-story ? Okay. No.
The narrator, who is someone from the community of powerless people, has a sarcastic tone that would make any reader laugh at all these anecdotes. Is it that easy to make readers laugh and point towards the "blemishes" of the society at same time ?
Odia literature is completely new to me because I have read a collection of translated short stories years ago. But I want to appreciate the translators ,they did an amazing job because I did not find any loop holes where I could blame the translation !
The story sets in a village of Odisha in 19th century. British Colonialism was there but people of rural part of this state were still afraid of and worshiping their Landlords. Ramachandra Mangaraj was one of those zamindar who gobbled properties of others by using new laws.
Isn't this plot sounds like already-we-knew-this-story ? Okay. No.
The narrator, who is someone from the community of powerless people, has a sarcastic tone that would make any reader laugh at all these anecdotes. Is it that easy to make readers laugh and point towards the "blemishes" of the society at same time ?
Odia literature is completely new to me because I have read a collection of translated short stories years ago. But I want to appreciate the translators ,they did an amazing job because I did not find any loop holes where I could blame the translation !
October 1, 2015
Sly yet heartbreaking...a gem of a novel.
April 16, 2021
"If a bowl of wine and a bowl of water are placed in front of a drunkard, he will certainly prefer the former; only when he is desperately thirsty does he realize that though wine is intoxicating, water gives life."
There was not one dull or boring moment in reading this absolutely well written satirical work and kudos to translator for keeping in place Sanskrit Shlokas and providing a very literal meanings to some of them (pun intended)! Author's writing style is refereshing, new and nuanced showing deep understanding of society, beliefs, history of Odisha and emotions of people. Story presentation, character development and moral takeaway are simple and subtly hard-hitting, making it one of my favorite reads of the year.
On a concluding note, the tragic/ not so tragic ending in the book subsumes to the background when the author makes a note of Kalidasa's line "God is averse to creating a human being who is blessed with all joys of life."
There was not one dull or boring moment in reading this absolutely well written satirical work and kudos to translator for keeping in place Sanskrit Shlokas and providing a very literal meanings to some of them (pun intended)! Author's writing style is refereshing, new and nuanced showing deep understanding of society, beliefs, history of Odisha and emotions of people. Story presentation, character development and moral takeaway are simple and subtly hard-hitting, making it one of my favorite reads of the year.
On a concluding note, the tragic/ not so tragic ending in the book subsumes to the background when the author makes a note of Kalidasa's line "God is averse to creating a human being who is blessed with all joys of life."
March 28, 2025
The writing was so brilliant and the humor was so razor sharp and dark, I was hooked till the very end. Loved this one so much!
March 19, 2024
Such an iconic book! Full of satire, sarcasm and the sad truth of society.
Loved every bit of the book.
Loved every bit of the book.
November 25, 2022
3.5/5
One of the most distinctive naraatorial voice I have ever had the pleasure of reading. Quick, witty, funny and sarcastic to the bone, the narrator takes the story of a simple town and makes it extremely memorable.
One of the most distinctive naraatorial voice I have ever had the pleasure of reading. Quick, witty, funny and sarcastic to the bone, the narrator takes the story of a simple town and makes it extremely memorable.
April 23, 2021
Actual Rating: 3.7 stars
What do these six and a third acres represent? It is said that the Kohinoor, the world-famous diamond, destroyed every family that owned it. The fate of kings from Allauddin to Ranjit Singh is shining proof of this. And yet, ever since this jewel has adorned the crown of our highly revered, greatly honored empress of India, who dwells in the White Island and who manifests like our goddess Kamala, the fame and power of England have spread all over the globe. The poison that kills everyone else glows around the throat of Lord Mahadeba, the God of gods, and expresses his supreme divinity. The point of this is that nothing in its rightful place is ever a source of trouble.
What a book! It's hard to believe that this was published in 1896.
The concept and the execution of the book is admirable indeed. The book talks about a colonial India where zamindars, or landlords/landowners were granted a lot of power by the British Raj. It's written in a socio-poltical view, with satire as the main theme, but then transitions to a more social view on the society. Takes into account the author's observations of rural Orissa during the 1830s.
The satire is ideally what makes the book a forward-thinking realistic one, but then I have come to realise that I personally don't like satire THAT much, hence the lesser rating.
However, if you are an Indian, it's a must read for sure.
What do these six and a third acres represent? It is said that the Kohinoor, the world-famous diamond, destroyed every family that owned it. The fate of kings from Allauddin to Ranjit Singh is shining proof of this. And yet, ever since this jewel has adorned the crown of our highly revered, greatly honored empress of India, who dwells in the White Island and who manifests like our goddess Kamala, the fame and power of England have spread all over the globe. The poison that kills everyone else glows around the throat of Lord Mahadeba, the God of gods, and expresses his supreme divinity. The point of this is that nothing in its rightful place is ever a source of trouble.
What a book! It's hard to believe that this was published in 1896.
The concept and the execution of the book is admirable indeed. The book talks about a colonial India where zamindars, or landlords/landowners were granted a lot of power by the British Raj. It's written in a socio-poltical view, with satire as the main theme, but then transitions to a more social view on the society. Takes into account the author's observations of rural Orissa during the 1830s.
The satire is ideally what makes the book a forward-thinking realistic one, but then I have come to realise that I personally don't like satire THAT much, hence the lesser rating.
However, if you are an Indian, it's a must read for sure.
August 28, 2024
Nothing about this brief novel is ordinary. The setting is a group of isolated rural villages in Orissa (Odisha). The narrator is looking back on the 1830's, unspooling his story with coy irony and recognition of his audience with a sly wink, linking storyteller and audience in a subversive alliance. The exposition is leisurely with the story arc not discernible until deep into the narrative.
The main character is a landlord (zamidar) named Ramchandra Mangaraj. He has risen from abject poverty to enormous wealth through what today we would call extortion and loan sharking. This lamentable surge of upward mobility is a direct result of the Settlement Act of 1793, a tax agreement between the East India Company and the ruling British Government. In return for serving as tax collectors and delivering those taxes, landlords were granted extensive land ownership powers. The arrangement resulted in their squeezing already impoverished tenants while causing zamidars who failed to deliver taxes on time (a frequent occurrence due to distances and almost non-existent roadways) to lose their lands to wealthier and frequently absentee landlords. This was explained in the translator's afterword.
Senapati, then, is giving us a view of a transformation in progress. We are watching the effects of a subsistence economy abruptly being replaced by a cash economy, something the West has touted as “progress.” We peek at the account books of Mangaraj as one small indicator of how this transformation is being effected. Senapati concludes: “Trade and commerce make you rich, agriculture brings in only half as much.” (p.11)
A second pillar of oppression are the law courts. Since the British governors could not understand any of the native languages, they distributed sinecures as favors to locals. This created an administrative apparatus corrupt from top to bottom. Senapati laments the demise of local governance where five reliable caste heads of the village (The Pancha) adjudicated village conflicts. A fine would be collected and held in the "caste funds" for use in communal betterment. Now, he laments, everyone floods to the English law courts: “The end result is that the cunning and rich get away scot-free with one hundred and one murders, while the simple and poor go through hell.” (p.52) We are watching a dubious legality replacing traditional morality.
Senapati sums colonialism up in a delicious parable. Native birds must be satisfied with minnows that swim in Demon Lake. “You could also see eighty or a hundred snow-white cranes and four or five grey herons squelching about in the mud. They looked like the lowly farm hands who toil in the fields from dawn to dusk....But did you see those cormorants who flew in from some far off land? After diving into the water a couple of times and filling their bellies, they took wing again....Hey, all you Hindu cranes and herons, take a good look at the English cormorants. They fly in from a distant land with empty pockets and fill their bellies with whatever's at hand – chenga, benga, gadisha, you name it – before taking off.” (p.70)
Tradition survives in a distorted and dysfunctional form. Morality can only survive if there is communal consensus. We learn that traditional morality is based on the shastras: self-control, meditation, performance of duties, piety, contentment, forgiveness, honesty, and simplicity. Yet, the only character practicing these virtues in Mangaraj's victimized and ineffectual wife.
For a woman to be barren is still a sign of great misfortune. Yet, Senapati fills his novel with numerous instances of wastrel children. One might conclude that the greater misfortune is having children! Nevertheless, the belief that motherhood would fulfill her leads naive Saria open to manipulation by Champa, Mangaraj's maidservant.
The custom of modest gratuities is another instance of corrupt maneuvering in this transformed society. Whereas the night watchman (chowkidar) would receive small quantities of produce, wool, or money, Gobara Jena turned the practice on its head. Better be generous or you might find your house robbed at night! Gobara was not only derelict in his duties; he was in league with criminal gangs. Little wonder that Gobara Jena and Mangaraj had much to discuss late at night.
I found this a difficult book to read despite its brevity. The structure is disconnected. Puzzling and clearly criminal acts are being planned or perpetrated. Why is a deep hole being dug behind that banyan tree? Why does Champa reassure Mangaraj that all she needs are some hampers and servants to carry out a plan to his benefit? The crimes and their consequences are not revealed until much later in the story. Senapati is not interested in creating momentum. The stories were at first published serially and only later edited and added to as a novel. In addition, Senapati is more interested in allowing the reader to infer the truth rather than force-feeding us any obvious conclusions. In this way he hopes the impact will be more devastating.
He does draw some particularly vivid portraits of Mangaraj and Champa. He is also adept in creating mood. He tells us of the night's darkness, the rain, the disturbed branches of a banyan tree, bats flying out of the branches and birds feeding on its fruit. The description has us holding our breaths, waiting for something we know will happen. Those types of passages, however, are rare.
The characters always remained abstract to me. The most vivid character was Senapati himself. His narrative is a constant reminder of his presence, much the way an oral storyteller's voice and gestures are a critical element of his story. As for “karma,” I never felt convinced in its reality. Instead, we are left with a sense of schadenfreude which scarcely compensates for the individual tragedies we have witnessed.
This was a thought-provoking novel that deftly shows the cruel effects of colonialism. This was the month's selection of our local book club.
Notes:
Lord Dadhibaman Temple: https://odishatour.in/dadhibaman-temp...
Birupa River: https://www.mindat.org/feature-127548...
The main character is a landlord (zamidar) named Ramchandra Mangaraj. He has risen from abject poverty to enormous wealth through what today we would call extortion and loan sharking. This lamentable surge of upward mobility is a direct result of the Settlement Act of 1793, a tax agreement between the East India Company and the ruling British Government. In return for serving as tax collectors and delivering those taxes, landlords were granted extensive land ownership powers. The arrangement resulted in their squeezing already impoverished tenants while causing zamidars who failed to deliver taxes on time (a frequent occurrence due to distances and almost non-existent roadways) to lose their lands to wealthier and frequently absentee landlords. This was explained in the translator's afterword.
Senapati, then, is giving us a view of a transformation in progress. We are watching the effects of a subsistence economy abruptly being replaced by a cash economy, something the West has touted as “progress.” We peek at the account books of Mangaraj as one small indicator of how this transformation is being effected. Senapati concludes: “Trade and commerce make you rich, agriculture brings in only half as much.” (p.11)
A second pillar of oppression are the law courts. Since the British governors could not understand any of the native languages, they distributed sinecures as favors to locals. This created an administrative apparatus corrupt from top to bottom. Senapati laments the demise of local governance where five reliable caste heads of the village (The Pancha) adjudicated village conflicts. A fine would be collected and held in the "caste funds" for use in communal betterment. Now, he laments, everyone floods to the English law courts: “The end result is that the cunning and rich get away scot-free with one hundred and one murders, while the simple and poor go through hell.” (p.52) We are watching a dubious legality replacing traditional morality.
Senapati sums colonialism up in a delicious parable. Native birds must be satisfied with minnows that swim in Demon Lake. “You could also see eighty or a hundred snow-white cranes and four or five grey herons squelching about in the mud. They looked like the lowly farm hands who toil in the fields from dawn to dusk....But did you see those cormorants who flew in from some far off land? After diving into the water a couple of times and filling their bellies, they took wing again....Hey, all you Hindu cranes and herons, take a good look at the English cormorants. They fly in from a distant land with empty pockets and fill their bellies with whatever's at hand – chenga, benga, gadisha, you name it – before taking off.” (p.70)
Tradition survives in a distorted and dysfunctional form. Morality can only survive if there is communal consensus. We learn that traditional morality is based on the shastras: self-control, meditation, performance of duties, piety, contentment, forgiveness, honesty, and simplicity. Yet, the only character practicing these virtues in Mangaraj's victimized and ineffectual wife.
For a woman to be barren is still a sign of great misfortune. Yet, Senapati fills his novel with numerous instances of wastrel children. One might conclude that the greater misfortune is having children! Nevertheless, the belief that motherhood would fulfill her leads naive Saria open to manipulation by Champa, Mangaraj's maidservant.
The custom of modest gratuities is another instance of corrupt maneuvering in this transformed society. Whereas the night watchman (chowkidar) would receive small quantities of produce, wool, or money, Gobara Jena turned the practice on its head. Better be generous or you might find your house robbed at night! Gobara was not only derelict in his duties; he was in league with criminal gangs. Little wonder that Gobara Jena and Mangaraj had much to discuss late at night.
I found this a difficult book to read despite its brevity. The structure is disconnected. Puzzling and clearly criminal acts are being planned or perpetrated. Why is a deep hole being dug behind that banyan tree? Why does Champa reassure Mangaraj that all she needs are some hampers and servants to carry out a plan to his benefit? The crimes and their consequences are not revealed until much later in the story. Senapati is not interested in creating momentum. The stories were at first published serially and only later edited and added to as a novel. In addition, Senapati is more interested in allowing the reader to infer the truth rather than force-feeding us any obvious conclusions. In this way he hopes the impact will be more devastating.
He does draw some particularly vivid portraits of Mangaraj and Champa. He is also adept in creating mood. He tells us of the night's darkness, the rain, the disturbed branches of a banyan tree, bats flying out of the branches and birds feeding on its fruit. The description has us holding our breaths, waiting for something we know will happen. Those types of passages, however, are rare.
The characters always remained abstract to me. The most vivid character was Senapati himself. His narrative is a constant reminder of his presence, much the way an oral storyteller's voice and gestures are a critical element of his story. As for “karma,” I never felt convinced in its reality. Instead, we are left with a sense of schadenfreude which scarcely compensates for the individual tragedies we have witnessed.
This was a thought-provoking novel that deftly shows the cruel effects of colonialism. This was the month's selection of our local book club.
Notes:
Lord Dadhibaman Temple: https://odishatour.in/dadhibaman-temp...
Birupa River: https://www.mindat.org/feature-127548...
Read
September 30, 2020I've always heard my parents mention Fakir Mohan Senapati whenever I asked them about Oriya literature and this is one of the few books I found that was translated.
I liked the writing to a degree, although I felt like the satire turned into overkill one time too many. It was only when I read the introduction that I found out that the narrator is a character himself, the embodiment of the quintessential Oriya touter. Perhaps it all reads much better in the original, but in that case, a book with four different translators should certainly have been able to capture the subtleties. Not that the author is always subtle himself, sometimes going into rather unpleasant detail. The book meanders far too often: the first dozen or so chapters are more or less sketches and the plot starts abruptly and careens into a conclusion by the end.
I liked the writing to a degree, although I felt like the satire turned into overkill one time too many. It was only when I read the introduction that I found out that the narrator is a character himself, the embodiment of the quintessential Oriya touter. Perhaps it all reads much better in the original, but in that case, a book with four different translators should certainly have been able to capture the subtleties. Not that the author is always subtle himself, sometimes going into rather unpleasant detail. The book meanders far too often: the first dozen or so chapters are more or less sketches and the plot starts abruptly and careens into a conclusion by the end.
January 3, 2017
An extraordinary novel! The social life of Oriya people living under the dual yoke of colonial rule and feudalism is brought to life with such wicked humour.It was such an engrossing read.The writer has also used a very innovative narrative strategy which makes the reader feel like a co-conspirator.A true classic!
April 19, 2021
Hailed as the first modern Odia novel, Six and a Third Acres is a gem of a work that resonates well with the readers even after more than 100 years of its original publication. I, first, came across this novel about 2 years ago, as part of the course for my paper on Indian Writing in Translation. And I loved this book then. I wrote an appreciation post on Instagram, and went on to recommend it to everyone. But the book was not in print then. So when Aleph Book Company announced this new translation, I was ecstatic. The beautiful new cover only increased my desire for the book. And I can now say that the second reading has, as it always does, provided a much richer experience.
The novel depicts a feudal society in a pre-independence village in Odisha. Interweaving the tale of a motley of characters, including those from the high and the low ranks, the virtuous and the vicious ones, the human and the non-human ones, Six and a Third Acres takes a dig at the prevailing Zamindari system, orthodox Brahmanism and Colonialism. While there are several small narratives in the novel, the main plot is centred on a small patch of land that the title refers to. Involved in a tussle over this piece of land are Zamindar Mangaraj and the poor peasant couple, Bhagia and Saria. The actions of the characters resulting from this tussle save as social commentary and take forward the plot of the novel.
Senapati's incisive wit and satirical approach hold the reader captive in the opening pages itself. The narrative structure is that of an hybrid of a folktale and a fable, and is made distinctive by the presence of first person plural narrator. Senapati has made an authentic portrayal of his times, while also providing a critique of that same world. With a tongue-in-cheek humour, Senapati addresses issues such as orientalism, impact of modernisation, elitist nature of some languages and problems associated with history writing, among others.
After my first reading of this novel, I had labelled it as a 'masterpiece' and I still hold on to that view. Do give it a read.
My Rating: 5/5
The novel depicts a feudal society in a pre-independence village in Odisha. Interweaving the tale of a motley of characters, including those from the high and the low ranks, the virtuous and the vicious ones, the human and the non-human ones, Six and a Third Acres takes a dig at the prevailing Zamindari system, orthodox Brahmanism and Colonialism. While there are several small narratives in the novel, the main plot is centred on a small patch of land that the title refers to. Involved in a tussle over this piece of land are Zamindar Mangaraj and the poor peasant couple, Bhagia and Saria. The actions of the characters resulting from this tussle save as social commentary and take forward the plot of the novel.
Senapati's incisive wit and satirical approach hold the reader captive in the opening pages itself. The narrative structure is that of an hybrid of a folktale and a fable, and is made distinctive by the presence of first person plural narrator. Senapati has made an authentic portrayal of his times, while also providing a critique of that same world. With a tongue-in-cheek humour, Senapati addresses issues such as orientalism, impact of modernisation, elitist nature of some languages and problems associated with history writing, among others.
After my first reading of this novel, I had labelled it as a 'masterpiece' and I still hold on to that view. Do give it a read.
My Rating: 5/5
March 18, 2021
Six and a Third Acres by Fakir Mohan Senapati is a poignant tale woven out of issues ranging from village politics, caste opression, malpractices, and land grabbing under the zamindari system in colonial Odisha. I do not know much about other languages but I believe that the beauty and charm that Premchand's novels carry is very difficult to reproduce in the English translations. However, this translation brings forth the signature style of Fakir Mohan Senapati along with his wit, sarcasm and imagination.
In the village of Govindpur, lived a black hearted and wicked zamindar, named Ramchandra Mangaraj. His was quite famous for his notoriety and devious schemes, and this time his nefarious gaze fell on a small patch of land –"six and a third acres" of land��� belonging to a down to earth and god-fearing weaver couple. And as every true story comes to end so does this, the poor couple succumbs to the wicked and devious designs.
The realistic portrayal of the characters makes one realise, that even though the story was written back in the nineteenth century it still illuminates the immoral and heinous crimes that are committed today too. The rich and the powerful weild their sword from beneath the garb of religion and slice up the poor.
The witty dialogue and humourous narration will certainly have you hooked!
In the village of Govindpur, lived a black hearted and wicked zamindar, named Ramchandra Mangaraj. His was quite famous for his notoriety and devious schemes, and this time his nefarious gaze fell on a small patch of land –"six and a third acres" of land��� belonging to a down to earth and god-fearing weaver couple. And as every true story comes to end so does this, the poor couple succumbs to the wicked and devious designs.
The realistic portrayal of the characters makes one realise, that even though the story was written back in the nineteenth century it still illuminates the immoral and heinous crimes that are committed today too. The rich and the powerful weild their sword from beneath the garb of religion and slice up the poor.
The witty dialogue and humourous narration will certainly have you hooked!
April 7, 2021
One of my recent reads has been this fantastic novel on Indian society and culture, in a small town in what is modern-day Odisha, then under the Colonial rule. I am also reading it for Smriti's @sant.reads #LitWithIndianLit
SIX AND A THIRD ACRES is such a wonderful mix of all - firstly, we have an absolutely witty narrator who uses and also often defies the accepted norms and rules when it comes to writing. He/She is so innocently sarcastic that it was like reading a satire on the hypocrisy of these men in power and how they try to cheat others all under the pretense of helping them.
This book has it all - the way the zamindars (local landowners) oppressed and looted the peasants, even as the White Masters continued to oppress and loot the Indians. We see the social scenario of the people of this place and how their lot in life is dependent on this eponymous plot of land - the sale and ownership of which, ultimately affects these people.
To be honest, when I found out what the book is about, I expected something along the lines of a Dickensian novel. But the narrator just made everything so much better! I was chuckling half the time! I thought this was a very original work that is a must read for you if you are hoping to delve into the treasure trove that is #indianliterature because this is definitely one of the best ones that I have ever come across!
SIX AND A THIRD ACRES is such a wonderful mix of all - firstly, we have an absolutely witty narrator who uses and also often defies the accepted norms and rules when it comes to writing. He/She is so innocently sarcastic that it was like reading a satire on the hypocrisy of these men in power and how they try to cheat others all under the pretense of helping them.
This book has it all - the way the zamindars (local landowners) oppressed and looted the peasants, even as the White Masters continued to oppress and loot the Indians. We see the social scenario of the people of this place and how their lot in life is dependent on this eponymous plot of land - the sale and ownership of which, ultimately affects these people.
To be honest, when I found out what the book is about, I expected something along the lines of a Dickensian novel. But the narrator just made everything so much better! I was chuckling half the time! I thought this was a very original work that is a must read for you if you are hoping to delve into the treasure trove that is #indianliterature because this is definitely one of the best ones that I have ever come across!
March 4, 2021
Six Acres and a Third is the finest novel of Indian literature based on the early decades of the 19th century. It truly portrays the caste system, village politics, and zamindari system of colonial rule. It is the story of an evil landlord, Ramachandra Mangaraj, who exploits poor peasants and uses the new legal system to seize the property of others. But this is slightly one of the lines of the novel, as the story unfolds, it reveals several layers of malpractice in caste systems and the legal system of the early 19th century in Odisha. Toward the end of Mangaraj's story, he realized that "as you sow, so shall you reap."
This is one such book that keeps me immersed from the first page, the humourous language and finest narration can't allow me to put this book down. The Narrator has a sarcastic tone throughout that gives you a giggle from time to time. I like the writing style, though, at some point, I felt things were tedious.
This intriguing and witty novel by Fakir Mohan Senapati is one of the gems in Oriya literature and has already been published in so many languages.
This intriguing and witty novel by Fakir Mohan Senapati is one of the gems in Oriya literature and has already been published in so many languages.
Recommended to everyone.
This is one such book that keeps me immersed from the first page, the humourous language and finest narration can't allow me to put this book down. The Narrator has a sarcastic tone throughout that gives you a giggle from time to time. I like the writing style, though, at some point, I felt things were tedious.
This intriguing and witty novel by Fakir Mohan Senapati is one of the gems in Oriya literature and has already been published in so many languages.
This intriguing and witty novel by Fakir Mohan Senapati is one of the gems in Oriya literature and has already been published in so many languages.
Recommended to everyone.
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April 6, 2021 This book was the first Modern Odia novel written by Fakir Mohan Senapati and now translated by Leelawati Mohanpatra, Paul St-Pierre & K.K. Mohanpatra.
• The narration is about a village named Govindpur where there is greedy and selfish zamindar RamaChandra Mangaraj who manipulates the villagers by his devious schemes.
• It's a masterpiece as it talks about village politics, caste oppression, malpractices, and land grabbing under the zamindari system. I was totally hooked with the novel as it was written in the 19th century that too in a witty style.
• This novel was my first ever classic and I absolutely loved reading it and this didn't disappoint me at all. This writing style is highly commendable. It took me to the time it was written in. This is a rollercoaster ride of wit, humor, irony, sarcasm, and imagination.
• The storyline perfectly goes with the setting and the plot. The characterization is done quite well. The language used is easy to understand and comprehend and the narration is explicit.
Recommended to classic readers.
• The narration is about a village named Govindpur where there is greedy and selfish zamindar RamaChandra Mangaraj who manipulates the villagers by his devious schemes.
• It's a masterpiece as it talks about village politics, caste oppression, malpractices, and land grabbing under the zamindari system. I was totally hooked with the novel as it was written in the 19th century that too in a witty style.
• This novel was my first ever classic and I absolutely loved reading it and this didn't disappoint me at all. This writing style is highly commendable. It took me to the time it was written in. This is a rollercoaster ride of wit, humor, irony, sarcasm, and imagination.
• The storyline perfectly goes with the setting and the plot. The characterization is done quite well. The language used is easy to understand and comprehend and the narration is explicit.
Recommended to classic readers.
April 22, 2021
A humorous if not tragic story set during the company rule. Eminently readable with lots of quotable lines. The various contradictions of life in India are covered so well. I wonder how much rural India has changed since then!
Some top quotes for the interested.
1. Brahmins often chant slokas; there isn’t much we can do about that.
2. The goddess did not enjoy a regular monthly income, the way lowly clerks do. People gathered at her shrine only in times of danger and distress, as they do at the doors of doctors and lawyers.
3. Whisper someone’s family secrets, or speak evil of someone, and people will quickly give you their complete attention.
4. As you know, hunger, worry, and mosquitoes are the enemies of sleep.
5. If a bowl of wine and a bowl of water are placed in front of a drunkard, he will certainly prefer the former; only when he is desperately thirsty does he realize that though wine is intoxicating, water gives life.
6. A drowning man will clutch even at the tail of a tiger.
Some top quotes for the interested.
1. Brahmins often chant slokas; there isn’t much we can do about that.
2. The goddess did not enjoy a regular monthly income, the way lowly clerks do. People gathered at her shrine only in times of danger and distress, as they do at the doors of doctors and lawyers.
3. Whisper someone’s family secrets, or speak evil of someone, and people will quickly give you their complete attention.
4. As you know, hunger, worry, and mosquitoes are the enemies of sleep.
5. If a bowl of wine and a bowl of water are placed in front of a drunkard, he will certainly prefer the former; only when he is desperately thirsty does he realize that though wine is intoxicating, water gives life.
6. A drowning man will clutch even at the tail of a tiger.
September 2, 2017
Set in 1830s rural Orissa, this is an English translation of the Oriya original. Senapati tells the story through a narrator; not a narrator in the Western tradition, but one borrowed from the historical Indian tradition of a travelling theatrical performer. This remote Oriya village from two centuries ago may seem right out of fantasy for non-Indians, but it was probably all too real. Ignorance, religion, tradition, casteism, corruption, colonialism and fundamental human deceit create a world of terrible oppression and injustice. Senapati's sly narrator is a master of sarcasm and wit, and he has us laughing through this sad tale. How I wish I had heard and seen the story from a 'live' actor in front of me.
May 3, 2023
An absolute gem of a book.
It takes us in the heart of an Indian village and it retains its relevance even today when the country has gained independence and is growing and developing. The debt and zamindaari is still there, in a different form, yet still there. The politics and power struggle has been represented aptly. The descriptions of the village life with such tongue-in -cheek humor fills the readers with laughs and amusement while reading the book. Even in the laughter, the troubles are highlighted. Even in the juggling of the truth and lies, and an inconsistent narrator, the picture is visible and the reality seeps the fiction and stares at us, glares at us with a shine in its eyes.
It takes us in the heart of an Indian village and it retains its relevance even today when the country has gained independence and is growing and developing. The debt and zamindaari is still there, in a different form, yet still there. The politics and power struggle has been represented aptly. The descriptions of the village life with such tongue-in -cheek humor fills the readers with laughs and amusement while reading the book. Even in the laughter, the troubles are highlighted. Even in the juggling of the truth and lies, and an inconsistent narrator, the picture is visible and the reality seeps the fiction and stares at us, glares at us with a shine in its eyes.
February 17, 2024
4.5 Stars.
It is quite an entertaining read, and to know so much about my own Odia culture and the ancestors of Odisha. The imagery of Odia village, its people and the way they live is utterly fascinating and reminds me of my childhood when I was in my village for most of the time. I am really excited to read more Odia books and especially Senapati's other work Lachhama which I bought last month. Fakir Mohan Senapati is a towering figure in Odia literature whose short stories I had read during my high school years. Hopefully, I would explore more of his works in the future.
It is quite an entertaining read, and to know so much about my own Odia culture and the ancestors of Odisha. The imagery of Odia village, its people and the way they live is utterly fascinating and reminds me of my childhood when I was in my village for most of the time. I am really excited to read more Odia books and especially Senapati's other work Lachhama which I bought last month. Fakir Mohan Senapati is a towering figure in Odia literature whose short stories I had read during my high school years. Hopefully, I would explore more of his works in the future.
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