The Old Playhouse is a wholly autobiographical poem in which Kamala Das has described her unhappy conjugal life or the misery which she experienced in her life with her husband. At the same time we have here a confessional poem because Kamala Das here takes her readers into confidence by telling them about matters which are strictly personal and private, and about which the ordinary woman, and even a poetess, would not speak in public.
The Old Playhouse shows the uninhibited manner in which Kamala Das can speak about matters pertaining to her private life and also about matters relating to the sexual relationship between a man and a woman. Furthermore, this poem shows Kamala Das as a feminist poet because, in demanding her release from the cruelty of her husband and asking for “a pure and total freedom” she is indirectly advocating the right of women in general to assert themselves and thus to get the opportunity to develop their personalities and their potential.
The very title of this poem gives us a clue to what Kamala Das wishes to write in this poem. The phrase “The Old Playhouse” means an old theatre- hall which is no longer in use and which lies deserted, with all the lights put out. Kamala Das uses this phrase as a metaphor for her own mind. Her mind is no longer in use because it is no longer serviceable and because it has lost its power to think as a result of the continued authoritarianism and callousness of her husband.
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The poem begins metaphorically, with Kamala Das describing herself as a swallow and her husband as a kind of bird-catcher who wanted to make her forget her life before her marriage and to mould her to suit his own inclinations and purposes. She had thought that, while living with this man, she would be able to develop her personality and her potential; but all her hopes were dashed to the ground because this husband proved to be a self-centered and egoistical man who enjoyed making love to her purely on its physical side, and having no notion at all that a woman expects love and affection from her husband in addition to sexual gratification. She then describes, in an entirely uninhibited manner, the manner in which he made love to her, letting his saliva flow into her mouth, squeezing her body in his embraces, and pressing his limbs closely against hers. Next, Kamala Das dwells briefly upon the narrow life of domesticity which she was compelled to lead in her husband’s house. As a consequence of her husband’s callous treatment of her and as a consequence of his denial of any kind of freedom to her, she began to languish in that prison of a house, and she lost all her will and all her power to think. Finally, Kamala Das expresses her intense longing for a release from the kind of life that she has been leading, even though she may have to resort to suicide in order to obtain that release.
The Old Playhouse is a poem free from Kamala Das’s usual faults, one of which is the omission of punctuation marks and another is the breach of the convention that every line in poetry should begin with a capital letter. And it is one of the few poems in which, from the stylistic point of view, she is at her best. Indeed, this poem may be regarded as one of her masterpieces.
The poem abounds in felicities of word and phrase; and it also shows Kamala Das’s capacity to condense her material. The metaphors which have been employed here are also perfectly appropriate. The swallow; the summer; the dwarf, the ruder breezes; Narssicus; and of course the old playhouse-all these are metaphors, most appropriate to convey the ideas which Kamala Das wishes to convey.
Then there is the phraseology. “The endless pathways of the sky”; “cowering beneath your monstrous ego”; “its usual convulsions”: “and by learning to learn to grow”; “into every nook and cranny”: “he serves his love in the lethal doses”; “to shatter, and the kind night to erase the water”-these are examples of an excellent combination and juxtaposition of words. Indeed, there is no lapse at all on Kamala Das’s part in her use of the English language, and she here shows an admirable command of this language.
The Old Playhouse has a tight structure; not a word too many, nor a word too few. Everything in this poem is in the right measure and in the right proportion; and, although we do not wish to idealize or glorify Kamala Das, we cannot withhold our praise and should not be parsimonious in our praise.
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