The Matchbox: Selected Short Stories of Ashapurna Debi

by Ashapurna Devi, Monabi Mitra (Translator)

A stalwart among Bengali writers, Ashapurna Debi (1909–95) was one of those rare authors able to render the voice of an entire culture, to capture its nuances and most abiding traditions with startling precision and formidable insight.
Each of the twenty-one stories in Matchbox, carefully selected from Ashapurna Debi’s extensive body of work and brilliantly translated from Bengali to retain the original flavour of the language and Debi’s style, highlights the tensions inherent in a society of close-knit and interdependent families.
In ‘Poddolota’s Dream’, a young girl returns to the scene of a harrowing childhood, magnanimous and victorious for reasons quite her own; in ‘Grieving for Oneself’, a midnight scare shows an ailing man precisely how he fits into the world he has worked his life to build; in ‘Glass Beads Diamonds’, a woman attends a wedding reception at her estranged in-laws’, bearing a gift that has cost her far too much. In other stories, a family rues an unexpected disappearance of one of their own, two friends come to terms with a lost friendship, and a couple’s relationship is interrupted the sudden appearance of an old flame.
Written with singular insight, often shocking and always compelling, the stories in Matchbox reveal in brilliant sparks the universal verities embedded within narrow domestic walls and present a literary genius at work.

Genres: Short Stories

147 pages, Paperback

Published June 1, 2005

About the author

Ashapurna Devi (Bengali: আশাপূর্ণা দেবী), also Ashapoorna Debi or Asha Purna Devi, is a prominent Bengali novelist and poet. She has been widely honoured with a number of prizes and awards. She was awarded 1976 Jnanpith Award and the Padma Shri by the Government of India in 1976; D.Litt by the Universities of Jabalpur, Rabindra Bharati, Burdwan and Jadavpur. Vishwa Bharati University honoured her with Deshikottama in 1989. For her contribution as a novelist and short story writer, the Sahitya Akademi conferred its highest honour, the Fellowship, in 1994.

Reviews

[Khush · Rating 5 out of 5]

First a little background information about Ashapurna Devi. She was born in Calcutta 1909. It was a time women were seldom allowed to read. They were not even supposed to go out unattended. She grew up in a conservative household and then got married into another conservative family. In one of her later interviews, she claimed that after her marriage nothing had changed in her life – as far as treatment of women was concerned. In both households women played an important role, but only inside the house; and in every sphere of life, their roles were subservient to men. In such a setting, it was expected of women to be expert in household related things, while men were encouraged to do other things. The roles were rigidly demarcated.

The writing was doubtless for men. Ashapurna Devi had always access to magazines and books at her home, although those were primarily meant for men. Even though she was never really encouraged to pursue reading and writing, she was drawn to reading stories. After her marriage, she began writing short stories under a male pseudonym. Her stories became very popular. Consequently, she had to come out and reveal her true identity, but many male writers of the time were stunned to find out that the writer was a woman. Some of them blatantly dismissed her saying that a woman could not produce such a powerful and compelling work.

In her later years, she would often say in her interviews that she saw life only through a window.
It was a intriguing statement because her work did not give that impression at all. She wrote many novels and short stories. Personally, I believe that had she written in any of the European Languages, her work would have been known and celebrated in western literature. It is a pity that her work was primarily read and locked in Bengali literature.

I never read anything by her that was frivolous, her stories were exceptionally beautiful and realistic, and sometimes too dark. For instance, in one of her stories, she writes about a woman who becomes a widow at a very young age. She raises her only son singlehandedly – her son was central to her life.
At some point, the son gets married. Now he lives with his wife and mother. Now the dynamic of his relationship with his mother changes. She, in some ways, resents her son for giving too much attention to his wife; the wife, on the other hand, wanted her mother-in-law to observe all the rituals that were expected of a widow. She would always remind her mother-in-law of her widowhood. (Society, family members, siblings all impose restrictions on Widows, they must live simply, eat only once a day, wear only white, no makeup and so forth, just work and wait for death).

Just a few months after her son's marriage, he dies in an accident. Now instead of one widow, there are two. The mother is devastated by the death of her son, but soon afterwards, instead of mourning him, she is fully occupied in telling her daughter-in-law what she should do. She repeats everything that her daughter-in-law has ever said to her concerning the role of a widow. She tells her daughter- in-law that now she has to live an unfortunate life. She savors as she lists all the deadly restrictions to her daughter-in-law. She forgets her son, she forgets to mourn him; she only reminds her daughter-in-law and how she could be a good widow.

For days I was lost in this story; its hideousness was appalling, but unfortunately real, and very often go unremarked. Sometimes when I think of her work, I feel amazed at the kind of sensibility she carried within herself because her work seemed so relevant even today. (After all human nature has not much changed). And in some ways, it has also surfaced in unexpected ways such as in the short stories of Jhumpa Lahiri – one recognizes the legacy of Ashapurna Devi.

[Megha · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5*

[Ritika · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ashapurna Debi's stories opened up something which had remained shut to me despite years of having lived among it- the relationships between men and women in Bengal. Their dreams, their fears, their hopes, their helplessness- a whole society was bared open to me. This is how I realise the need for representation, why literature needs to go beyond Western Literature and why it is necessary to go back to your roots in books, if only to understand a part of your own history.

The 4 star is due to the translation. I appreciate the motive, I really do, of keeping the words and phrases as is to keep the content of the book intact. However, it does give the impression that the book will solely be appreciated by people like me- Bengalis who know the language well enough to speak it but not enough to read it- for whom the innate "Bengaliness" of the book will remain unharmed. However, the translation did hamper the reading pace, as well as obscure a few parts. I still am not sure if some stories did end that way or whether the translation botched it up slightly. But the effort is appreciated and I hope the translator keeps on improving on the style to make the translation feel more organic.

[Debasmita B · Rating 4 out of 5]

The rating of this book goes up as the book progresses. I started with a pretty 'meh' feeling, which might be the case for many other people not familiar with Bengali literature or the Bengali style of talking in general (since a lot of conversation happens in this book), but after 2-3 stories, some of the shorts were pleasant surprises, and progressively they got (mostly) better. The writing has a beautiful self awareness considering the kind of life the author herself had.

The winning thing is the last story of the book, easily one of my favourites from this and also a fitting ending story. It's one of those few books where you should be reading till the last line to really appreciate the book completely.

[Divya Pal · Rating 2 out of 5]

A surfeit of Bengali names and relationships. Otherwise, ahem...

I always compare women to matchboxes. Why? Because of the way matchboxes are – even though they have enough gunpowder to set a hundred Lankas aflame, they sit around meek and innocent, in the kitchen, in the pantry, in the bedroom, here, there, anywhere – women, too, are exactly the same!

[Parvathy · Rating 3 out of 5]

The middle class Bengali milieu comes alive in these stories. There is sly humour, a light taking down of manners, quite in the vein of an Austen. There is also poignancy in a few of the tales. I loved the translation, which does not attempt to remake the stories in English. So the flavours of Bengali idiom comes through brilliantly. Overall, a happy read.

[Varna Binu Sasidharan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Women have flames with themselves.

[Sanjoy Banerjee]

short bengali story within 800 words