Seen on: Friday, 11/07/25.
| Neeraja Ramjee as Manjula Nayak. Photo by Kat DuPont Vecchio. |
Plot and Background
Tea and Pickle Productions LLC presents Girish Karnad's psychological thriller about a newly bestselling novelist introducing a film adaptation of her debut novel, who then suddenly finds herself interrogated by what seems to be an alternate persona wearing her face.Thoughts:
Play: Manjula Nayak paints a pretty if implausible picture: while up to now her writing has been non-fiction and in her native language, she has chosen for her first fiction venture to write and publish her novel, The River Has No Memories, in English. Being a bestseller, it has of course been subsequently translated, but author Manjula must now contend with the accusation that she cannot tell an authentic Indian story in another--particularly a colonizing--language. Which of her voices is the true voice? Along with this critique she's also running up against the question asked by #OwnVoices: how can she, an able-bodied woman, write the story of a disabled person? She has an answer of course: as caretaker of her disabled sister after the death of their parents, she was able to witness her own sister's struggles leading up to her death.
Having an answer for every challenge, though, does not make the story around the story true. This is what the late playwright Girish Karnad interrogates. What stories are we allowed to tell, what stories do we tell others about ourselves, and what are the stories others tell about us? Without digging too deeply into spoiler territory, as Manjula's onscreen alter-ego prods at the plot holes behind the novel's existence, all of Manjula's facades crumble, her delusion and deceit eventually fall away, leaving a gnarled pit of bitterness resentment and envy.
I don't feel that the play fully executes its intent when it comes to dismantling Manjula, or in any case I don't know that I found any of the revelations that revelatory. While it's well performed, I don't have a true sense of the purpose of the alter-ego or her objective. If she's truly trying to drive Manjula to admit the truth, I'd like to see a more aggressive hounding, such that neither the protagonist nor we can quite get our bearings enough to push back. Still, I do always have a soft spot for explorations of when protagonists and writers are unreliable narrators of what should be their own basic truths.