Acknowledging the lesser-known

Virginia Woolf, in A Room of One's Own (1929), writes: "...it is a perennial puzzle why no woman wrote a word of [...] extraordinary literature when every other man, it seemed, was capable of song or sonnet." Although it was of English women writers that Woolf was expressing such a sentiment, it rings true across continents the world for all women who have written, yet have remained obscure and, thereby have been dismissed as never having produced anything that could be deemed "extraordinary". From the past to the present, in a world that treasures men's contributions first and foremost, women's personas as literary individuals have been crushed—for some, into oblivion—from the lack of their self-promotion. This has especially been the case for Bengali women writers. In spite of creating works that are clear reflections of their mastery over their craft, Bengali women writers have mostly been overlooked. Their work and their names are not largely celebrated. From the past to the present, there has existed a lack of representation of women in Bengal whose pens, despite creating texts that, in their variety and nuanced content, carry the strength to shatter the glass ceiling, have failed to do so because their very existence is little known. To rectify this error—for it is indeed an error not to include such stalwarts of the written word—eight Bangladeshi women writers, each eminent in their own right, have compiled an anthology of Bengali women who have been writing since the 20th century.

Aptly named Ateet Theke Adhuna: Bangladesher Naari Lekhok, this collection is unlike a conventional anthology. Starting with Rokeya Sakhawat Hossain, the list of writers includes an impressive 66 great authors. To imagine that such a large number of women who have written and have been writing in Bangladesh for 100 years has flown under the radar is indeed humbling and, frankly, disconcerting; I call acquiring knowledge of this unsettling matter because it sheds light on yet another glaring example of the age-long undermining of women's capabilities. It is also sad to note that before these eight women, no man had considered paying homage to those who "once wrote", and even those who "couldn't speak up or write". The dedication reads "To the women artists, both known and unknown, who once wrote, and to those who couldn't speak up or write…"

Traversing this veritable history of a 100 years of Bengali women's writing, the book offers readers a much-needed look into the numerous trials that women, to begin with, have had to overcome to learn to read and write, let alone write to publish. With the overt expressions of patriarchy being rampant during the 80s, and mid-to-late 90s, women of those times had to fight tooth and nail to step out of their houses to demand and act to receive their basic right to education. Braving chastisements, threats of and eventual ostracisation, these 66 women relentlessly and single-mindedly pursued their dreams. The tribulations they suffered and the indignity that was freely doled out to them by the unfair norms and conventions designed by the patriarchy led them to make note of the injustices happening around them—to the weak, to the poor, and to the very country itself. This observation led them to include in their writing stories where the demeaned had voices that spoke not only for themselves but also for the nation they so dearly loved. And love the country they did (even though it had not done much in the way of making these women's contributions widely known), as evidenced by their spontaneous and fearless participation both on the field and off it during the war for liberation. From writing fiery essays, invigorating poems, and stories, to designing a plan to blow up the national power grid and hiding and ferrying arms to the freedom fighters, these women, even in the face of certain danger to their persons and their families, shed the demure persona and, in dismissal of societal norms, came to their motherland's aid in whichever capacity they could.

Aside from the stories about biased traditions and characters whose lives mirrored their own, the fictional pieces created by these women also reflected the experiences of womanhood in all their variety. Narrated in an intimate tone, these stories explored the vast emotional range of women and delved deeply into their innermost feelings about love, loss, grief, and death. Some of the texts and poems also broke convention and portrayed women characters who were morally ambiguous and open about their needs and desires. 

If this compilation shows that women can and will break through barriers to realise their dreams, then it also makes apparent that, in the journey to reach their goals, women need their support systems just as much as men do. In all these women writers' backgrounds, the help and encouragement that these families have given them have stood out as common elements; if not for the staunch support that was unrestrainedly extended to them by a father, a mother, a brother, and/or a husband, their creative expressions would never have found their place on paper. In the current climate of gendered divisiveness, it was especially heartening to read about the gift of writing paraphernalia conspiratorially given by a brother to a sister; the morale-boosting declarations of approval made by a father to a daughter; and the loving espousal of and the eager prods to action initiated by a husband for his wife in their journey to bring their thoughts to life. The truth that none can exist as an island was further cemented by the inclusion of these facts about the writers having accepted the help that was offered to them by those closest to them. 

Editors Niaz Zaman, Sauda Akhtar, Razia Sultana Khan, Afroza Parveen, Jharna Rahman, Jackie Kabir, Nur Kamrun Nahar, and Marzia Rahman compiled the anthology and adopted a thoroughly objective tone in this collection, but their admiration for their subjects shone through in their sympathetic syntax in narrating their subjects' predicaments and their effusive use of laudatory adjectives while mentioning their achievements, which is all very apt, as their subjects indeed are worthy of all the praise. Although the entire collection is on the longer side, it has to be conceded that nothing could be shorn to make it shorter as all the entries are succinct as is. The cover art of the book, too, is reminiscent of the art made on a 'kula' or the mud walls of old houses, reflecting the touch of traditionality sustained by the writers; yet, the insertion of the ghomta-clad woman alongside the teep-wearing, bob-cut sporting woman reflects both the duality and the contemporaneity of womanhood. 

Having spent their lives fighting against the constraints placed upon them by society, the women writers of this compilation knew that they would truly be triumphant not just by breaking free of the social shackles they were bound by, but by acquiring the liberty for themselves and their subsequent generations, too, to create narratives that bared their souls. From Ateet Theke Adhuna, that fight continues.  

Maeesha Wajid is a lecturer of English at Southeast University.