Muttathu Varkey and My Reading Habit

Muttathu Varkey

By the time I completed my school education, I had read all the books of Muttathu Varkey (1913-1989) that were available in my father’s personal library. They were all novels in Malayalam. Varkey was the most famous novelist in Kerala during my adolescence. His novels were described by Malayalis, not without the derision that comes too easily to them, as painkili literature. Sentimental romance, that's what it was. 

Padatha Painkili [The nightingale that would not sing] was one Varkey’s first novels, published in 1957. Varkey’s oeuvre came to be known as painkili literature ever since the success of this novel whose film adaptation was a roaring success. The movie won many prestigious honours including the National Film Award for Best Feature Film in Malayalam.

The novel told the love story of Chinnamma (the painkili who never sang) and Thankachan. Those were hard days of grinding poverty, oppressive conservatism, and mindless sectarianism. Amidst emotional twists, family hardships, and moral dilemmas, the plot highlighted themes of unwavering love, faith, sacrifice, and the triumph of goodness over greed.

Thankachan belonged to a wealthy family while Chinnamma was the daughter of a poor school teacher. Such class differences mattered much in Kerala back then. Even now, Malayalis value wealth more than anything else and they love to show off their wealth too. Back then, anyway, a love affair between a wealthy young man and a poor young woman would have met with a lot of opposition unlike today. Added to that problem was the love of Lucy, a woman from a rich family who wanted to marry Thankachan. Lucy’s father exploited the vulnerabilities of Chinnamma’s family to the hilt making the plot gripping.

Most of Varkey’s novels had similar themes though the settings changed vividly. Most of his novels became hit movies in Malayalam. I’m quite sure that Varkey shaped the reading habits of quite many Malayalis of his time. I confess that I fell in love with reading because of him. I also confess that I fell in love with Jayabharathi, the actress who played the role of the heroine in those painkili movies. But my love for Jayabharathi died too soon like all calf loves. My love for books survived. And flourished, eventually.

From my bookshelf

I moved from Varkey to Dostoevsky as I grew up. I may not enjoy reading Varkey anymore. Sentimental stories don’t appeal to me at all now. I prefer the intellectual as well as spiritual agonies of Ivan Karamazov and the confrontation with the silence of Camus’s universe.

I read quite many excellent works after my youthful forays into the philosophical angsts of those titans. I loved many of them too. Hilary Mantel’s Cromwell trilogy and Ken Follett’s masterful historical epics rise prominently in my consciousness as I look back at my middle-age reading. There are a lot of other excellent books too. But what left deep impressions on young minds towers above everything else.  

From my bookshelf

PS. This post is a part of ‘Plot Twist Blog Hop’ hosted by Manali Desai and Sukaina Majeed under #EveryConversationMatters blog hop series.