Despite the gloomy outlook for T&T on so many fronts–from the social to the economic–it's easy to forget the many remarkable things that still happen, frequently capturing the energies of thousands of citizens, and creating strong communal bonds.
One of these events is the Sangre Grande Ramleela, an annual spectacle created by the Sangre Grande Ramleela Committee (SGRC) in the community since 1992, which attracts audiences of thousands from around the country for its 11-day denouement.
The genesis and evolution of the SGRC has recently been recorded by Dr Primnath Gooptar, its President and one of its founders, in the book The Ramleela of Sangre Grande. (He credits as a "consultant" Pundit Bhownath Maraj.)
The book is a miscellany of personal history, community lore, Ramayanic exposition, and many photographs interpolated by verbatim accounts from involved individuals, spectators and supporters. There are scans of scripts used by the players, plot outline of the Ramayana, and explication/narrations of parts of the text delivered by the narrator as the spectacle proceeds. We are shown schematics of the effigies, and given details of their construction along with costumes, weapons, and details of the meals served to the players.
That is all to say, many stories vie for attention in the book. The main story is of a small village (or a few individuals) determined to stage a religious and cultural event of great importance to them–the Ramayana–persevering through many obstacles and setbacks, and succeeding through the help of many hands. The event is ostensibly a Hindu religious one, but AfroTrinidadians participate in the performance as well as the organisation, and the performances are open to the public at large.
One of the fascinating things disclosed is the effect the organisation and performance of the Ramleela has on the community. In conventional sociological terms, the "Ramleela Camp" which has players and organisers camping at the site during the 11-day reenactment, brings the community closer together. It creates bonds, builds communal trust, inculcates positive values. It also has a particular cultural agenda, as the narration is interlaced with interpretation of specific portions of the text with reference to real-world situations.
Unfortunately, the good things about the book are impeded by its disorganisation and lack of editorial and narrative focus. It's more of a keepsake, scrapbook, or a diary than a conventional narrative (scholarly or non-). The Ramleela of Sangre Grande is still useful and valuable, but its deficiencies are significant. Gooptar writes not like an academic (he has a PhD in Cultural Studies from UTT) or a detached outsider. He writes like a very involved insider, who has a definite position he propounds and defends.
There's nothing wrong with that: many books on organisations have this orientation, and are read accordingly. What weakens this book considerably is the orientation seems to be unconscious, and alongside that agenda (essentially of a diarist and or polemicist) other elements are lined up in no particular order or even coherence. The overall effect is considerably lesser than if events and elements of the narrative had been properly orchestrated and contextualised.
Prodigious detail is provided of relatively minor events, like of the purchase and upkeep of the Ramayana van, and sheets of galvanise, and the night the roof of the "command centre" blew off. Yet inside these ponderous details are some truly fascinating revelations which generate deep questions.
For example, in the section on the construction of props for the event, Gooptar provides a long quote from a player (who played Rama and a soldier in various years) about the effect the costume had on him: "The crown was a part of my life, it had become part of my being and I did not want to part with it.... I can still recall, 20 years later, the pain and sadness I felt when, in my last year as a soldier, I had to return the crown".
But moments like this are dropped randomly, and occasionally as casual asides. Far too much time is spent on long, and usually partisan blow-by-blow accounts of village politics–there's a section titled "Neemakharam" describing the interaction with another Ramayana group, and the intrigues which ensued regarding the selection of roles for different performers.
Also an aside we are told of the superstitious attitudes that surround the performance in some quarters–like the belief that if it was not upheld for five years by a player or group, a curse would result. Gooptar debunks the superstition but does not explore the distinction between religious and superstitious belief, and the nature of the community's perception of the world.
This (community's perception of the event) ties directly into the reverence and transformative nature of the costumes, which are highly valued by the players, and also the connection between the characters played in the leela and the way they are perceived by the community. An actor who plays Rama, for example, says, "For me Rama comes alive ...and as I play the role of Rama, Rama seems to live through me."
The actor alters his lifestyle, and in effect begins to see the world in a different way. The community also alters its expectations: "If I get into a fight, a dispute or a quarrel, I am reminded 'Boy, you does play Rama in Ramleela and that is how you getting on.'"
Again, this is stated, but not examined or probed. Is it superficial or profound? Is it half-joking or serious? What does come across almost unconsciously from the book is an insight into the relation of Trinidad Hindus to their religion, and what it means performing the story of their God. One spectator is quoted: "This event brought tears to my eyes...I saw Lord Rama, that is how real this thing was to me. When the falling rice and flowers touched me, it reached into my soul and evoked a divine sentiment words cannot explain."
It is the lack of critical examination of this sentiment and the lifeworld it evokes that is the major disappointment of the book. No deep questions are asked, and no probing of the surface is evident. This look at the Ramleela of Sangre Grande in effect is a small window to the inner cultural workings of a particular community, which could reveal much more if examined in greater detail, and with scholarly or even journalistic detachment and rigour.
The book in this regard resembles the fieldnotes of an anthropologist. Much interesting and valuable cultural and social information is crammed in the quotidian babble. Sadly, the author is unable to distinguish.
Nonetheless, the value of The Ramleela of Sangre Grande is enormous. It presents starting points for research into this and other cultural phenomena. It provides a look into another Trinidad. It broadens the field and expands the number of questions that can be asked of and about "culture" in Trinidad. And it presents an extended glimpse of another Trinidad for the benefit of the national community.