Beyond the Margins: How Subaltern Voices Enrich Our Understanding of Feminist Movements
Feminist narratives have honored the achievements and hardships of women pursuing equality for a long time. Unfortunately, these stories frequently drew a picture in broad strokes, ignoring the specifics and conflicts that exist within women’s movements in general. Subaltern texts intervene in this situation by providing an essential counterbalance and bringing the struggle for gender justice to life. Thus, subaltern literature is essential to a thorough feminist understanding of women’s movements because it includes the experiences and viewpoints of women from various social classes, races, sexual orientations, and abilities. They shed light on hidden intricacies, digging deep and spreading awareness of power relations, and eventually helping to create movements that are more inclusive and powerful. Antonio Gramsci coined the term “subaltern” to describe people who are excluded from positions of authority, frequently based on caste, class, race, or gender (Chatterjee, 2000). This essay examines the subaltern’s struggle against exploitation, the assertion of agency in the face of oppression, and the act of writing itself as a form of resistance.
Exploitation is one of the most painful realities that subalterns must deal with. The “Breast Giver” by Mahasweta Devi exposes this painful reality. Poor Brahmin Jashoda is compelled to work as a demeaning wet nurse for wealthy households. Devi does a fantastic job of capturing the physical toll that all this puts on Jashoda’s body — the never-ending demands, the lack of sleep, and the sacrifice of her own child’s wellbeing. However, exploitation is not limited to the tangible. Devi depicts a system that is biased against Jashoda, where the rich take advantage of her weakness as they know she has little choice. Her narrative strikes a profound chord with innumerable underprivileged people who are caught in vicious cycles of social and economic oppression, as well as with women compelled to endure similar circumstances.
The constraints of the subaltern’s agency are another thing that “Breast Giver” sheds light on. Jashoda’s resistance is unnoticeable, a silent fortitude that defies total submission. This silent anguish is a powerful representation of what it is like to be a subaltern, for whom resistance is frequently an unaffordable luxury. It is reminiscent of the suffering endured by Dalit groups in India, who have long been subjected to oppression under the strict caste system. These narratives are frequently replete with tales of exploitation and the desire for a life free from oppression, as Chintha Syam Sunder contends in her analysis of Dalit literature, “The Meaning of Dalit and its True Perceptions by Indian Society and Dalit Writers through Translations” (2015). Jashoda’s narrative serves as a metaphor for subaltern experiences, emphasizing the profound human cost of social and economic marginalization.
Subalternity, however, is more than just a victim narrative. It also demonstrates the resilience of the human spirit and our ability to exercise agency in the face of injustice. Poems by Sarojini Naidu, especially “The Song of Radha the Milkmaid,” provide a strong illustration of this. In Hindu mythology, Radha is a goddess who is typically portrayed as Krishna’s subservient lover. However, Radha’s voice resounds with defiance and ardent love in Naidu’s poetry. She opposes the patriarchal conventions that aim to limit her to a submissive position. In “A Subaltern Review of Poetry and Political Thought of Sarojini Naidu” (2015), Seema Pokhariyal examines how Naidu challenges the conventional depiction of Radha in her examination of Naidu’s poetry. By empowering Radha to take back control of her story and articulate her wants, Naidu honors female agency (Pokhariyal et al., 2015). The experiences of numerous subaltern women who discover strength in traditional roles reflect this act of rebellion. Many women around the world, from industrial workers to domestic workers, find methods to exert their agency within the limitations of their situations, just as Radha fights the boundaries of her mythological tale. Their experiences serve as a reminder that the human spirit is resilient and that people always struggle to be acknowledged and given agency.
Acts of rebellion against state brutality are another way that subaltern voices might be heard. In sharp contrast, Mahasweta Devi’s “Draupadi” depicts this. The police wrongfully accused an Adivasi woman named Dopdi Mejhen, who personifies the fragility of Indigenous populations. Recasting Dopdi as Draupadi, the strong character from the Mahabharata, is Devi’s subversive deed. “I am Draupadi,” Dopdi’s cry, reflects Gayatri Spivak’s query in her landmark 1988 article “Can the Subaltern Speak?” Even though Dopdi’s voice is filtered through Devi’s story, it nevertheless becomes a potent assertion of agency, even if Spivak recognizes the inherent challenges in depicting subaltern realities. It is a cry out for acceptance and a defiance of the tyranny of the state. Numerous underprivileged populations around the world that experience violence and prejudice at the hands of the state can relate to Dopdi’s narrative. It serves as a reminder that despite differences, the subaltern experience is frequently characterized by a common fight for fundamental human rights and dignity.
“The Laugh of the Medusa” by Hélène Cixous offers a theoretical framework for comprehending writing as a subversive act of itself. In opposition to the conventional, masculine order of language, Cixous promotes “écriture féminine,” a rebellious style of writing. This writing, with its fluidity and emotional rawness, becomes a tool for the marginalized to express their own identity. Cixous’s work is ideally suited to subaltern literature because it emphasizes the empowerment of the oppressed through creative expression. With this type of “écriture féminine,” subaltern voices that the dominant order has muted can be heard again and expressed. One such example is the life narrative of Indian Dalit writer Laxmi Prasad Deshmukh, who lived in Maharashtra. After being shunned by his caste, Deshmukh turned to writing for comfort. His autobiography, “The Prison House of Caste,” is a powerful critique of the caste system and evidence of the transformational potential of literature by marginalized people. Deshmukh can take back control of his story and inform a larger audience about the injustices caused by caste (Jagyasi, 2002). Deshmukh’s tale serves as an example of how “écriture féminine” gives the underprivileged a voice and a platform to question prevailing ideologies and call for social change.
Subaltern literature further aims to give the oppressed a strong communal voice in addition to telling individual stories. Works such as “We Who Cannot Speak,” compiled by Beverly Watson (2004) and consisting of testimonies from subaltern women in India, offer a voice to individuals whose stories have been silenced for far too long. Uncensored, these stories vividly depict the challenges that subaltern women experience, ranging from discrimination and economic hardship to sexual abuse and domestic violence. Watson builds a strong chorus of oppressed voices by collecting their stories, calling for acceptance, and opposing the established order.
To sum up, subaltern literature is critical for humanizing marginalized people’s experiences. These works remind us of the complexity and variety of human experience by exposing the reality of exploitation and providing forums for resistance. Despite their diversity, subaltern voices have one thing in common: they all want to be acknowledged and heard. They emerge from the outskirts through literature, serving as a reminder that even the most disadvantaged people could change the course of history, inspiring us to pay attention to the voices that are suppressed and strive for a world with greater justice and equality. Thus, subaltern literature is more than merely a genre.
References
Chatterjee, P. (2000). The politics of the people: A conversation with Partha Chatterjee. In G. Spivak (Ed.), A Critique of Postcolonial Reason: Political Philosophy and Historical Difference (pp. 392–431). Cambridge University Press.
Jagyasi, C. V. (2002). Caste, Author’s Identity, and Dalit Literature: Witnessing, Testimony, and the Production of Subjectivity. Economic and Political Weekly , 37(17), 1713–1722.
Pokhariyal, S., Singh, V., & Singh, D. V. (2015). A Subaltern Review of Poetry and Political Thought of Sarojini Naidu. International Journal on Studies in English Language and Literature (IJSELL), 3(2), 83- 86.
Spivak, G. C. (1988). Can the subaltern speak? Marxism and the interpretation of culture. Cambridge University Press.
Syam Sunder, C. (2015). The Meaning of Dalit and its True Perceptions by Indian Society and Dalit Writers through Translations: An Analytical Study. International Journal on Studies in English Language and Literature (IJSELL), 3(2), 83–86.
Watson, B. (Ed.). (2004). We who cannot speak: Subaltern voices in contemporary India. Seagull Book
