Lost and failed in translation: Audrey Truschke

Nityananda Misra

(with a poetics’ perspective by Shankar Rajaraman)

Audrey Truschke, Assistant Professor of South Asian History (and not Sanskrit) at
Rutgers University-Newark, recently made, by her own admission, some “controversial
comments” on Twitter. Callously and haphazardly tweeting what she initially claimed
was a “loose translation” and later called a “failed translation”, she wrote—

Quote

in Valmiki's telling (I'm loosely translating here): During the agnipariksha, Sita basically
tells Rama he’s a misogynist pig and uncouth.

Unquote

When pressed for the source, Truschke pointed to the verses 5, 7, and 14 in the ‘sarga’
6.104, along with providing the complete translations (not by her but by Goldman,
Goldman, and van Nooten) for the verses 5 to 16 in the ‘sarga’. In this article, I explain
the verses with their context in some detail, in the process showing that what Truschke
stated was not a loose or failed translation but a misleading distortion. I present Shankar
Rajaraman’s insights from the perspective of poetics which further contradict the
possibility of what Truschke claimed. Finally, I show how Truschke’s Sanskrit scholarship
was conspicuous by its absence in the whole episode.

I. Verse 6.104.5

Sītā says—

“O brave one! Why do you make me hear such improper words, harsh and hard on the
ears, as an ordinary man [does] to an ordinary woman?”1

The words ‘prā kṛta’ and ‘prā kṛtā ’, whose inflected forms are used in the verse, literally
mean “ordinary man” and “ordinary woman” as Goldman et al. note.2 The word ‘prā kṛta’

1
‘kiṃ mā masadṛś aṃ vā kyamīdṛś aṃ ś rotradā ruṇ am, rū kṣ aṃ ś rā vayase vīra prā kṛtaḥ prā kṛtā miva.’
2
See note 5 on page 1437 of the translation by Goldman et al.
can refer to both a low or inferior person3 and an ordinary human.4 Whichever sense
one takes, what is clear is that Sītā questions why Rā ma is speaking words which a
‘prā kṛta’ man would speak to a ‘prā kṛtā ’ woman. Three Sanskrit commentators point
out, as Goldman et al. note, that the purport of the verse is that the words are both
improper for Rā ma to speak and for Sītā to hear.5 The contention that Sītā calls Rā ma
‘uncouth’ ignores this context and even the fact that the simile used by Sītā involves
both a ‘prā kṛta’ man and a ‘prā kṛtā ’ woman. The verse has a comparison which is
intended to criticize an action, very different from an ad hominem criticism or attack
which Truschke’s loose translation makes it to be.

II. Verse 6.104.7

Sītā says—

“On account of the behaviour of ordinary (=low) women, you are [now] doubting
womankind. Abandon this doubt if I am seen (known) well by you.”6

Sanskrit commentaries provide additional insights. As per the ‘Bhū ṣaṇ a’, Sītā says this
to suggest that she is not to be seen as just an ordinary woman.7 The ‘Tilaka’ says that
the word for womankind (‘jā ti’) here means “even an extraordinary woman”.8 Both the
‘Tilaka’ and ‘Ś iromani’ say that the essence of Sītā ’s words is that the doubt is not
proper.9 Satyatīrtha interprets the word for ordinary women (‘pṛthakstrīṇ ā m’) as “of
wanton or unrestrained women”.10 In addition, Satyatīrtha interprets future tense in the
second half of the verse, explaining it as “If I were to be tested by you, then you will

3
‘nīcaḥ prā kṛtaś ca’ (Amarakoṣ a 2.10.16).
4
For example, in the famous usage ‘babhū va prā kṛtaḥ ś iś uḥ ’ (‘Ś rīmadbhā gavata’, 10.3.46), “became
an ordinary baby”.
5
‘asadṛś aṃ tvayā vaktuṃ mayā ś rotuṃ cā yogyam’ (‘Bhū ṣ aṇ a’ and ‘Tilaka’, and also the commentary
by Maheś vara Tīrtha as Goldman et al. note.)
6
‘pṛthakstrīṇ ā ṃ pracā reṇ a jā tiṃ tvaṃ pariś aṅ kase, parityajemā ṃ ś aṅ kā ṃ tu yadi te’haṃ parīkṣ itā .’
7
‘strī-mā tra-sā dhā raṇ yena nā haṃ draṣ ṭavyetyā ha’.
8
‘jā tiṃ prā kṛtavilakṣ aṇ anā rīmapi’.
9
‘nocitamityarthaḥ ’, ‘anucitamiti ś eṣ aḥ ’.
10
‘svairiṇ īnā miti phalito’rthaḥ ’
abandon this doubt”.11 Goldman et al. note that their translation follows the suggestion
of ‘Bhū ṣaṇ a’ and Satyatīrtha’s commentary.12 It is worth pointing out that the second
half of the translation by Goldman et al. (“if you really knew me, you would abandon
your suspicion”) mixes the interpretation of ‘Bhū ṣaṇ a’, which interprets ‘parīkṣitā ’ as
the present perfect passive and ‘parityaja’ as the imperative (‘tyaja’), and the
interpretation of Satyatīrtha, who interprets ‘parīkṣitā ’ as the potential mood (‘parīkṣitā
syā m’) and ‘parityaja’ as the future tense (‘tyakṣasi’).

Doubt and generalization, not hatred/contempt and misogyny

Neither in the original verse, nor in the Sanskrit commentaries, is there any reference
to hatred or contempt for women. The verbal form ‘pariśaṅ ke’ and the word ‘śaṅ kā ṃ ’
come from the root ‘śaki’ (√‘śaṅ k’), which per as the ‘Dhā tupā tha’ is used the meaning
of ‘śaṅ kā ’.13 As per the ‘Vā caspatya’, ‘śaṅ kā ’ means “a fear or anxiety” (‘trā sa’), “a
conjecture” (‘vitarka’), or “a doubt” (‘saṃ śaya’). The common factor among these
meanings is a sense of not being sure. The Hindi dictionary ‘Ś abdasā gara’ states that
‘śaṅ kā ’ is a doubt whether something is true or not.14 The ‘Upasargā rthacandrikā ’ does
not list the combination of the prefix ‘pari’ and the root ‘śaṅ k’, suggesting that the
prefix ‘pari’ does not modify the meaning of ‘śaṅ k’ in a major way.

While √‘śaṅ k’ refers to the act of having a neutral doubt regarding something being
true or false, the word ‘suspicion’ is not as neutral. One of the meanings of ‘suspicion’
is “a feeling or belief that someone has committed a crime or done something wrong”.
‘Suspicion’ has negative connotations which ‘śaṅ k’ does not. With this nuance in mind,
the translation by Goldman et al., viz. “you harbor suspicion against all women …” (italics
mine) is not very exact and has the potential of misleading naïve readers.

11
‘yadi te tvayā ’haṃ parīkṣ itā syā ṃ tademā ṃ ś aṅ kā ṃ .... parityaja tyakṣ asi’
12
See note 7 on page 1437 of the translation by Goldman et al.
13
‘ś aki ś aṅ kā yā m’ (‘Dhā tupā ṭha’, 1.70).
14
Vā lmiki’s use also suggests this, for example Daś aratha tells Kaikeyī in the ‘Ayodhyā kā ṇ ḍ a’: “na
mā ṃ ś aṅ kitum arhasi” (“It does not suit you to doubt me”). Maheś vara Tīrtha explains the phrase in
his commentary as “do not doubt whether my husband will fulfil my task or not” (‘matpatirmadīyaṃ
kā ryaṃ kariṣ yati vā na veti sandehaṃ mā kā rṣ īḥ ’).
The verse has the sense of a generalization: a doubt about women in general on
account of the conduct of some, and not hatred or contempt, feelings associated with
misogyny. A neutral doubt is different from a suspicion of wrongdoing and is very
different from hatred or contempt.

Present continuous

The ‘lakā ra’ in the word ‘pariśaṅ kase’ is ‘laṭ lakā ra’, used in Sanskrit for both an action
happening right now (present continuous) and an action that happens regularly,
occasionally, or always (present indefinite). The statement ‘sā rā mā yaṇ am adhīte’ can
mean both “she is [right now] studying the Rā mā yaṇ a” and “she [occasionally or
regularly] studies the Rā mā yaṇ a.” Similarly, ‘suryā ḥ prā cyā m udeti’ can mean both
“the sun is [right now] rising in the east” or “the sun [always] rises in the east”.

Which of these, then, is the sense in the word ‘pariśaṅ kase’? The very fact that Sītā talks
about abandoning the doubt in the second half shows that the usage is in present
continuous. In other words, Sītā ’s words imply that Rā ma’s doubts are not permanent
or eternal, but only temporary. This rules out ‘ingrained prejudice against women’
(another definition of misogyny) too, for something that is ingrained is not temporary.

III. Verse 6.104.14

Sītā says—

“But O the best among men! Following only anger, you have thought about only [my]
womanhood, like an inferior man.”15

The translation by Goldman et al. can be misleading. They write “you have given way
to anger like a lesser man, taking into account only that I am a woman.”16 The translation
seems to suggest that the consideration that Sītā is a woman has led to Rā ma giving
way to anger. The original Sanskrit verse implies the opposite, i.e. following anger has
led Rā ma to think only about Sītā being a woman (or an ordinary woman, as we will
see below). The reason is that the words ‘krodham eva anuvartatā ’ (“by [he who is]

15
‘tvayā tu naraś ā rdū la krodhamevā nuvartatā , laghuneva manuṣ yeṇ a strītvameva puraskṛtam’.
16
See verse 14 on p. 457 of the translation by Goldman et al.
following anger alone”) qualify the subject ‘tvayā ’ (“by you”), while the words
‘strītvameva puraskṛtam’ (“have thought only about womanhood”) denote the object
and the action. As per Sanskrit grammar, the subject or agent (‘kartṛ’) is independent
of the object and action.17 In other words, the subject is not dependent on the action.
As the subject here is qualified by the phrase “by [he who is] following anger alone”,
the implication is that Rā ma following anger is not dependent on or a consequence of
thinking about womanhood.

The Sanskrit commentaries ‘Tilaka’ and ‘Ś iromani’ explain the word ‘strītvam’
(“womanhood”) in the verse as “the class of low and ordinary women”18 and “the quality
of a low/ordinary woman”, respectively.19 Like in the verse 6.104.5, here too Sītā
compares the action of Rā ma to that of an ordinary man and implies that she is no
ordinary woman. There is no ad hominem attack on Rā ma calling him “uncouth”. The
verse does not imply that the anger of Rā ma comes from Rā ma considering Sītā as
just a woman, which Goldman et al’s translation seems to suggest. Therefore, here also
there is no misogyny meant or implied.

IV. A poetics’ perspective by Shankar Rajaraman

Dr. Shankar Rajaraman, a Sanskrit poet extraordinaire and a performer of the rare art
of ‘avadhā na’, offers a brilliant analysis on why Sītā cannot call Rā ma a ‘misogynist pig’
from a poetics’ perspective. This section is an edited version of his analysis. I am thankful
to him for his kind permission to include it in this article.]

Sītā is visibly in sorrow (‘śoka’) and, to some extent, anger (‘krodha’), when she is
speaking to Rā ma in the verses 6.104.5 to 6.104.16. Her sorrow is well-established
through phrases such as “sullied by tears”20 and “with words that were indistinct”.21 Her
anger can be inferred from words through which she points out to something negative

17
‘svatantraḥ kartā ’ (Aṣ ṭā dhyā yī 1.4.54)
18
‘strītvameva prā kṛtasā dhā raṇ astrījatireva’
19
strītvam prā kṛtastrīdharmaḥ
20
‘bā ṣ paparikliṣ ṭaṃ ’ (6.104.4)
21
‘gadgadayā vā cā ’ (ibid).
at that moment in Rā ma, for example “by you, who are following the dictates of
anger”.22 Do we not point out others’ faults when we are angry?

Having established that Sītā is going through sorrow and anger, we can further
establish that both these emotions occur within the context of her love for Rā ma. In
other words, though Sītā is sorrowful and angry, she still loves Rā ma. She does not
allow sorrow and anger to distort her love. It is her love for Rā ma that reigns supreme
even at this moment. Unlike some people in modern times who would allow a single
instance of anger or sorrow to take precedence over their “love”, often non-existent,
and demand for a divorce at the drop of a hat, Sītā regards safeguarding her love for
Rā ma as a sacred duty. Throughout her speech, she keeps endearingly addressing
Rā ma as “O brave hero” (‘vīra’), “O one with strong arms” (‘mahā bā ho’), “O master”
(‘prabho’), “O the best among men” (‘naraśā rdū la’), “O one who bestows honour”
(‘mā nada’), etc. Furthermore, she explicitly states that her heart is fixed in Rā ma alone.23
What more proof does one need to establish that Sītā still loves Rā ma and Rā ma alone?

Now, according to the tenets of Sanskrit poetics, both sorrow and anger can occur as
transitory emotions within the larger, and more sustained, emotion of love. Sorrow and
anger can come and go within the larger ambit of love but love, on its part, remains
stable and never ceases to be.24

We now come to why Sītā cannot call Rā ma a “misogynist pig”. If Sītā were to tell Rā ma
that he is a “misogynist pig” (or something similar to that effect), let us ponder on the
emotion that would lead her to say such a thing. A pig, being an animal that is known
for its uncleanliness, is an object of disgust (‘jugupsā ’). An expression like “misogynist
pig” evokes similar abhorrence or disgust. For Sītā to say something like this, she must
have experienced disgust at the sight of Rā ma. But where there is disgust, there is no
love according to Sanskrit poetics.25 Since we have already established above that Sītā

22
‘tvayā … krodhamevā nuvartatā ’ (6.104.14).
23
‘madadhīnaṃ tu yattanme hṛdayaṃ tvayi vartate’ (6.104.9).
24
‘krodhā marṣ au ca hā saś ca ś oko’pasmā ra eva ca … uddīpayanti ś ṛṅ gā raṃ ’ (‘Nā ṭyaś ā stra’, 7.108–
109).
25
‘ā lasyaugryajugupsā khyairevaṃ bhā vaistu varjitā ḥ … uddīpayanti ś ṛṅ gā raṃ ’ (‘Nā ṭyaś ā stra’, 7.109)
is still deeply in love with Rā ma, she could not have experienced disgust at his sight
and therefore never called him “a misogynist pig” or anything similar to that effect.

V. Conclusions

In all the three verses, the words by Sītā are disapproving of Rā ma’s actions and
compare them to actions of an inferior or ordinary person, but are not vulgar ad
hominem attacks as in Truschke’s translations. Sītā does not pass judgements on Rā ma,
but only condemns his actions with the use of similes. As Shankar Rajaraman points
out, from the perspective of poetics too there is no possibility of Sītā , angry but still
very much in love with Rā ma, saying something that expresses the emotion of disgust.

Truschke’s misleading and distorted translations

With her loose translation “uncouth” without offering the full context, Truschke tried to
mislead. With her loose and failed translation “misogynist pig”, Truschke tried to distort
the criticism of actions in the original Sanskrit verses into an ad hominem attack using
anachronistic, utterly vulgar, and wildly inappropriate words (as Goldman described
them). Truschke’s attempts to mislead and distort could have well been deliberate, with
the objective of provoking her ideological opponents. Apparently they ended up
outraging a large section of people, not limited to her ideological opponents (this
probably explains why she was in a damage-control mode).

Goldman et al’s own anachronistic reading

Goldman in his email says “our translation … nowhere uses … an anachronistic term like
‘misogynistic’”. However, Goldman et al. do use the equally anachronistic term
‘misogyny’ in their introduction when they claim that Sītā criticizes Rā ma for “harboring
feelings of misogyny”. This is an example of Goldman et al., to borrow from Goldman’s
own words, giving their own jaundiced reading of the passage in their own language.
Valmiki’s words do not imply misogyny (hatred, contempt, or ingrained prejudice
against women), rather it is Goldman et al’s own interpretation.

Goldman is not surprised

Goldman wrote in his email that he found it “extremely disturbing but perhaps not
unexpected” to learn that Truschke “has used such inappropriate language and passed
it off as coming from Valmiki”. Why would Goldman say the “extremely disturbing”
translation by Truschke is “perhaps not unexpected”? I can only guess. Perhaps
Goldman, like many, privately believes that Truschke’s work is more sensationalist and
provocative than scholarly.

Truschke’s veiled counter-attack?

In her article, Truschke cites the translation “pimp” of the Sanskrit word “śailuṣa” [sic]
(the correct word is “śailū ṣa”, with the long vowel ‘ū ’).26 By equivocating about whether
she agrees or not with Goldman’s translation in this case, Truschke tries to steer clear. I
suspect Truschke, who has faced quite some heat over her translation, mentioned this
specific example so that some heat comes Goldman’s way too.

Missing in action: the Sanskrit scholarship of Truschke

Whatever be the motive of Truschke bringing up the translation of “śailū ṣ a” by

Goldman and then equivocating about it, I expected Truschke (who has studied Sanskrit
for 15 years and taught it at three universities) to offer some expert comment on the
derivation, attested meanings, connotations, usages, and possible translations of the
word. There were none.27 Similarly, when her “misogynist pig” translation was
questioned, all she could cite in her defence was Goldman’s translation: no original
discussion or thoughts from herself about the words, their shades of meanings, the
grammar, the context, or the ‘rasa’. Truschke offered no original ‘yukti’-s to defend her
translation apart from parroting that she used a colloquialism. I wonder why the Sanskrit
scholarship of Truschke, which she is not afraid to flaunt, was conspicuous by its
absence all throughout this controversy?

VI. Challenge reiterated

26
I plan to address the “pimp” translation of “ś ailū ṣ a” in another article.
27
She did not even bother to check if she spelt the word “ś ailū ṣ a” correctly.
Calling her interpretation, a “complete distortion” instead of a “loose translation”, I
challenged Truschke for a public debate in Sanskrit on her translation. I am still waiting
for her response. I reiterate my challenge through this article for a public debate in
Sanskrit. To circumvent the problem of logistics, I am ready for a written debate also. I
am also willing to translate both her and my Sanskrit arguments into English for
everybody’s convenience. The question is: will she accept?