Goa - India in Translation: Reading Through Each of India’s 28 States

Tsunami Simon by Damodar Mauzo

I’m returning now to one of my favorite series — Indian Novels in Translation, State by State.

Tsunami Simon by Damodar Mauzo

STATE: Goa

Original Language: Konkani

Publisher in English — Ponytale Books (2020) - LINK

Translated by Xavier Cota.

I realize that this Substack has many U.S.-based readers who may not be familiar with Konkani. It is a language spoken primarily on the West coast of India; it is the official language of the state of Goa though it’s spoken in several other states along the coast. There are many dialects and writing scripts and some of those linguistic tensions are present in the book, though, regrettably, many such nuances are no doubt lost through translation.

It was surprisingly difficult choosing the right Konkani book to read in translation. I decided that I wanted to read a Damodar Mauzo novel. Early on in my search, Substack reader and dear friend Vibha Kamat, put Mauzo’s name into my ear. In 2023, he received the Jnanpith Award, India’s highest literary honor.

It became clear that Mauzo is not just a writer from Goa; he has clearly helped shape the idea of Goa and the 20th century Konkani literary landscape.

But it was basically impossible to find an English translation of his 1983 classic Karmelin so instead I read his much more recent work — Tsunami Simon. To my surprise, it seems to be published by a children’s book press, Ponytale Books. Hopefully, now that he’s won the Jnanpith award, some of his books will be reprinted in English and made more easily available, especially Karmelin.

Tsunami Simon has all the hallmarks of the Mauzo that I read in his short story collection, Teresa’s Man.

First, a quick (and I mean, rapid!) summary of the book:

Quick Summary

Simon is sweet, likable boy who likes school and karate and accompanying his father out into the ocean because he is part of the kharvi (traditional Goan fishermen) tradition. One Christmas vacation, Simon goes to a village in Tamil Nadu to spend the holiday with his aunt. Unfortunately, the massive 2004 tsunami wreaks devastation on that stretch of shoreline. Simon survives but must navigate refugee camps and other perils on his way back home to his family in Goa.

Literary Values

It’s a simple plot and the prose is also deceptively simple; just like in his short stories, Mauzo doesn’t linger in long descriptions. Everything unfolds fast, like water rushing out of a tap.

Let’s look at this scene shortly after a motorcycle accident:

“Gabru, there’s a terrible swelling on your leg. It’s better if the doctor sees it.” And she promptly dispatched Vicente who had come to see them, to inform the doctor.

Vicente came back with the doctor.

“It looks like a fracture,” said Dr Borkar, after examining the leg. “You need to go to an orthopaedist. I’ll give you a reference letter to Dr. Allwyn in Margao.” He gave him an injection to reduce the pain and swelling and left, urging them not to delay.

Dulcin forgot her own pain and called a taxi. They went to Dr. Allwyn, took his letter, went for an X-Ray, and came back.

This scene is largely true of Mauzo’s storytelling; there is little-to-no embellishment, the plot surges forward at breakneck speed. That said, he also knows when to slow down and linger in a moment. Not coincidentally, those instances come when he’s unfolding the world of Goa. He takes his time showing Gabru and his crew out on the water, strategizing a massive mackerel catch. He lingers in Dulcin deep in grief at Midnight Mass.

So, what we get with Mauzo is an author with a strong command of time — knowing when to speed up and when to linger — and an author who is not interested in wowing the reader with tricks but who is interested in making his characters do things, say things, and engage in the world.

And now, we come to the limits of translation. Everything on the surface of Tsunami Simon points to the idea of ‘simple’ -

Simon himself is a simple, likable, high-spirited, morally upright protagonist.

Similarly, his parents appear to be simple fisherfolk.

The prose and the plot seem childishly simple at times.

And yet, as you will see, just like a dark patch of water, there’s a lot teeming under the surface. Let me quote from an excellent review by Augusto Pinto - LINK

Gabru, the head of the Baptistas, still uses the traditional manual Rampon method of fishing even as almost the rest of the world has switched over to the more profitable but environmentally degrading mechanized trawler method. Obvioulsy, the standard theme of most Indian literature - the clash between the modern and the traditional - is going to play out here, too. But the voices of these Kharvis (who also use the elite Bardezi dialect in Church rituals) is offset by the controlling Antruzi voice of the narrator who is a Bamon, as the Saraswat in Goa is called.

Earlier in this review, Pinto explained that the various subtle different Konkanis deployed in Tsunami Simon acted as a veiled commentary on power struggles over a longstanding Konkani script/dialect issue.

Now, back to Pinto:

However there are also other voices that creep in - such as the 'Madrasi' accented Konkani of Gabru's brother-in-law Ponnudurai, once his worker, but who fell in love with Gabru's wife's sister Marcelina and eloped with her to his native state. And there is Hindi and Tamil and English which are also heard suggesting that Mauzo is unlike the Konkani, Marathi and English warriors who habitually battle for linguistic supremacy in Goa . He perhaps realizes that the real language of the land is a rich mix of many tongues.

So, as you see, what appears to outsiders as a “simple” book with a simple protagonist and plot has many layers. It’s just that Mauzo isn’t interested in dazzling us with how intelligent he is. Rather, he wants to show how a young, forthright boy like Simon can navigate the world of India — its good and bad — and, by going into the world, can negotiate the internal dilemmas of traditional and moral.

Simple, though it is, the book handles grief — both from loss and from the uncertainty of a missing person — with delicate care.

I’m very glad to have read Mauzo; there’s something honest about his storytelling. He has compassion and love from his characters. He doesn’t seek to give them unnecessary darkness. He doesn’t hesitate to have happy outcomes. He isn’t naive but nor is he a pessimist. If I wanted my culture or reality documented by a kind soul, I would be pleased to have Damodar Mauzo as that documenter.

4/5 I’ve taken a star off because the plot had a deus ex machina towards the end that I felt was unnecessary.

Read the other posts in this series.

Tamil Nadu - Pyre - LINK

Karnataka - Samskara: Rites for a Dead Man - LINK

Andhra Pradesh - Yashodhara - LINK

Kerala - The Legends of Khasak - LINK

Telangana - Sin - LINK