30 Rupees for Shakespeare: a Consideration of Imperial

Theatre in India

Christine Mangala Frost

Modern Drama, Volume 35, Number 1, Spring 1992, pp. 90-100 (Article)

Published by University of Toronto Press

DOI: https://doi.org/10.1353/mdr.1992.0045

For additional information about this article

https://muse.jhu.edu/article/499388/summary

Access provided by Washington University @ St. Louis (18 Feb 2019 02:17 GMT)
 30 Rupees for Shakespeare:
. a Consideration of
Imperial Theatre in India
CHRISTINE MAN GALA FROST

In E. M. Forster's A Passage to India Adela Quested, like Mrs. Moore,

wants to see the real India. Instead, both have to sit through an amateur
production of Cousin Kate. Adela is appalled: she predicts rather gloomily
that her desire to see the "real India" will be thwarted by her compatriots:

It'll end in an elephant ride, it always does. Look at this evening. Cousin Kate!
Imagine, Cousin KateP

Mrs. Moore is equally dismayed when she finds that her son Ronny, who had
seen Cousin Kate in London and "scorned it," is now prepared to pretend that
it is "a good play." At the "bridge party" given in response to Adela's desire
to see the real India, the English avoid the natives and talk among them-
selves. And the subject of their conversation? - Cousin Kate. Forster does not
spare them:

They spoke of Cousin Kate.

They had tried to reproduce their own attitude to life upon the stage, and to dress
up as the middle-class English people they actually were. Next year they would do
Quality Street or The Yeomen of the Guard. Save for this annual incursion, they left
literature alone. ~

Forster's acerbic presentation of the English indulging in what in India might

seem fatuous cannot be dismissed as a caricature. In an article entitled "Art
in Afghanistan," an army officer reporting to the September 1881 edition of
The Theatre recognizes the quaintness of staging English drawing-room
comedy in remote parts of India, but exclaims, "What would the Indian
station be without its amateur dramatic society? Simply nowhere.'" Unlike
Mrs . . Moore and Adela, Lieutenant Simpson finds the poor taste of the
Englishman in India excusable:

Modern Drama, 35 (1992) 90

 Imperial Theatre in India 91
In no part of the world is the theatre a more acceptable fo~ of amusement, and no
part of the world is. from its climate, more thoroughly unsuited for it than India . ...
the enervating effect of the climate produces its evil results on the Englishman. and
a play which the same man would watch with interest at home he turns from with
disgust in India. It is too heavy for him. "We don't want the legitimate drama out
here," he says, "with a thennometer at a century. Give us a light comedy. or better
still a burlesque, or comic opera, but not too 100g."4

The writer avers that for all its deficiencies such theatre was valuable because
it assuaged home-sickness and promoted a "very healthy bond of union.'"
Forster, however, alerts us to the fact that even a poor play like Cousill Kate,
performed by amateurs behind closed doors and barred windows so as to
prevent the servants seeing their memsahibs acting. can become a cultural
symbol potent in its assertion of the collective strength and solidarity of the
imperialists.
The English in India saw themselves as natural successors to the Moghuls;
and, in general, to be an imperialist was regarded as an obligation that few
could avoid. As Macaulay pointed out in his Notes 011 the Indian Pellal Code,

It is natural and inevitable that in the minds of a people accustomed to be governed

by Englishmen, the idea of an Englishman should be associated with the idea of
Government. Every Englishman participates in the power of Government, though he
holds no office.6

Lord Curzon went a step further. In a letter to Morley, Curzon asserted that
he was

... an imperialist heart and soul. Imperial expansion seems to me an inevitable

necessity and carries a noble and majestic obligation. I do not see how any English-
man . .. can fail to see that we came here in obedience to what I call the decree of
Providence, for the lasting benefit of millions of the human race. We often make great
mistakes here; but I do finnly believe that there is no Government in the world that
rests on so secure a moral basis, or is more fiercely animated by duty,'

It is not surprising that the arts that the rulers brought with them and
assiduously propagated have become suspect. In the wake of Edward Said's
influential expose of what he regards as the coercive political agenda of
western orientalism, it seems that one may not consider an English writer in
a colonial country except in terms of cultural aggrandizement. It has become
fashionable to allege that, more than any other writer, "Shakespeare kept alive
the myth of English cultural refinement and superiority - a myth that was
crucial to the rulers' political interests in India.'" Were one to protest that
such a charge does grave injustice to Shakespeare's power to transcend the
92 CHRISTINE MANGALA FROST

iniquitous limits of colonialism, the critic argues that the "myth of the univer-
sal bard [is] a myth that reveals and perpetuates a 'complicity between indige-
nous and imperial power structures' .in the postcolonial era.''9 I propose to
offer a critique of the charge of cultural imperialism as it relates to Shake-
speare in India during the Raj, with a view to freeing critical discussion from
the constraints of a reductionist dialectic.
From the time in the 1750S when David Garrick sent "scenes painted at his
direction" and an artist named Mr. Massinck to help set up an English theatre
in Calcutta, there has been a steady stream of Shakespeare perfonnances in
the theatres of India. Even before the radical anglicizing of Indian education
under Governor General Bentinck, students had developed a taste for Shake-
speare, fired by the enthusiasm of their mentors, such as the flamboyant
Eurasian, Henry Louis Derozio, and noted Orientalists like Horace Wilson and
Captain Richardson. The year of the mutiny, 1857, also saw the advent of
universities in Bengal, Bombay, and Madras, and Shakespeare became part
of the curriculum; he continues to be so now India is independent. Indian
perfonnances of Shakespeare burgeoned during the Edwardian era in Bombay
and Calcutta and both cities were often visited by touring companies. By the
time the Holloway company reached Bombay in 19II, Shakespeare was so
popular that the theatre personnel were mobbed by students for a ticket to see
Hamlet starring John Holloway and Matheson Lang. To quote from David
Holloway's graphic account,

On the first night at Bombay, although the house was sold out except for a few unre-
served seats, at the time when the doors opened a mad dash was made for the pay-
box. The few remaining seats were sold in a couple of minutes, but this did not stop
the rush. Eventually John had to line up the entire front-of-house staff with linked
arms and get them to push forward in the hope of clearing the foyer. This seemed to
be working, so he went through the pass door by the stage to Lang's dressing-room,
telling him to slip a cloak over his costume and to come to see what the front of the
house looked like. The attendants had been forced back, and once again the whole
area was a mass of young students, waving money in the air and crying, "1 will pay
thirty rupees for a stall" or "Fifteen rupees for an Upper Circle." In the end John had
to call the police to clear the crowds so that those who had tickets could take their
seats. IO

Despite experiencing difftculties in coping with set-texts in the classroom,

student enthusiasm for Shakespeare in performance seems to have continued
unabated. In 1945-46, when Sir Geoffrey Kendal's Shakespeareana company
toured India, they played to packed houses, becoming so much a part of the
Indian scene that, according to Kendal, many schools and theatres expected
an annual visit from them. This is not, however, the impression gained from
James Ivory's fUm Shakespeare WaUah, which was based on Kendal's
 Imperial Theatre in India 93

memoirs. Though he plays the role of the ham actor-manager Tony Bucking-
ham in the film, Kendal reports that both he and his wife Laura found it
"difficult and, at times, painful" to go along with the premise of the film.
"Our touring company had been a great success and had brought Shakespeare
to the furthest places in India .... But Shakespeare Wallah showed the Buck-
ingham Players down on their luck, trying to cadge bookings from unsympa-
thetic school bursars, and overwhelmed by the slick, rich, song-and-dance
Bombay movies. It was in some ways close to OUf experience. yet at the same
time seen through a different pair of eyes. We did not recognize ourselves.""
Kendal's autobiography provides ample proof to support his claim that Shake-
speare found a willing and responsive audience wherever they performed him
in India. Even allowing for an actor's vanity, and for oriental hyperbole, it is
hard to discount such spontaneous overflow of fulsome praise as Kendal
received from an amateur group named "Forward Bloc" in Trivandrum:

So, to us the news that an E~glish company was coming to ... stage some of fhe plays
of Shakespeare was like "dropping manna in the way of starved people." We decided
to make full use -of the chance and began attending the theatre every day. And we did
find in such profusion answers to questions which confronted us when trying to
visualize an action while reading a play .... Somehow or other a bond has linked the
"Forward Bloc" and "Shakespeareana" together. We pray to God to help us in keeping
this tie strong forever. Let Shakespeare keep India and Britain united! 1l

Neither the Bombay nor the Trivandrum students fit Jyostna Singh's
description of "an indigenous power-structure"; and, as for the travel-weary,
often impoverished, bohemians of touring companies, they hardly merit the
mantle of imperialist power which, had it been forced upon them, they would
have found very ill-fitting.
The ready acceptance of Shakespeare during the Raj cannot be adequately
accounted for either in tenns of cultural crawling or of imperialist coercion.
Shakespeare, along with other British drama, reached India at a time when
there was little by way of theatre except for folk-drama; and the fare the folk-
theatre offered was a medley of all-too-familiar didactic tales rehashed from
the epics and the puranas, or, a crude pot-pourri of song, dance, mime and
farce that hardly qualified as legitimate drama. Shakespeare answered to a
desperate need for intellectual and psychological stimulus, and Shakespeare
in performance became a catalyst for theatres in the vernacular. Many writers,
actors, and directors who founded theatres in Bengal, Bombay, and Madras
had a Shakespearean background. Shakespeare was the acknowledged model
for Girish Chandra Ghosh (1844- 1912), an eminent actor-playwright who was
hailed as the "Garrick of Bengal." Ghosh's plays were initially concerned
with socially relevant issues (such as the dowry system, and the plight of
Hindu widows) but he soon abandoned them in favour of flamboyant, highly
94 CHRISTINE MANGALA FROST

emotive, and politically stirring historical plays, Shakespearean in imaginative

scope and daring, if not in technical competence. In Madras, T. Sambhandam,
one of the pioneers of the Tamil theatre, was a Shakespearean actor-director
noted for his sensitive transpositions of Shakespearean comedy. His Tamil As
You Like It is said to have been a conspicuous success in Colombo. The "uni-
versity wits" of the Marathi theatre seem to have excelled both in faithful
translations, and in transpositions fine-tuned to appeal to a predominantly
Hindu audience. To quote from Yajnik's account of the Marathi Measurefor
Measure:
. .. to the Indian mind, saturated with the hoary traditions of mighty emperors (cr.
Vikrama) travelling incognito to study the frame of the popular mind at first hand, the
Duke's device of temporary retirement exerts a deep fascination .... A few exquisite
Hindu touches add to the beauty of situations. The song, "Take, 0 take those lips
away", finds a most appropriate echo in a musical expression of the lovelorn goddess
Parvati pining for her Lord Siva, with haunting associations of Kalidasa . Hindu ideals
are grafted on Christian ethics in the prison interviews. Again, in confonnity with the
best Hindu practice, the royal priest joins the hands of Vincentio and Isabella as they
smile consent. 13

Changes introduced to cater for Hindu tastes could at limes be embarrassingly

anomalous: in a Marathi version of Antony and Cleopatra "in the final scene,
as the curtain rings down, Octavia ascends the spectacular funeral pyre for her
lord, as sati,"14
While adaptations were in general successful, vernacular productions that
made no concession to Indian expectations seldom succeeded. Girish Chandra
Ghosh's Bengali Macbeth, which stayed close to the original and was pro-
duced complete with imported scenery from England, proved a flop. Such
failures exposed a cultural gap that made some gifted directors take the course
of healthy rebellion. Vtpal Dutt, who (like Shashi Kapoor) had worked with
Kendal and his Shakespeareana company, felt the need to grow away from the
British bard and rediscover his roots through Bengali folk-theatre. After a
spell in the Bengali revolutionary theatre which he founded, Dult returned to
Shakespeare. He toured Bengal with a revitalized production of Macbeth
which drew on the ritual world of jatra and found that the masses in rural
Bengal were captivated. Commenting on Duu's surprise at the success,
Barucha writes

The response of the villagers to an Elizabethan classic seemingly alien to their social
and economic situation were revelations to Dutt. He marvelled at their instinctive
understanding of Macbeth 's impulses and vacillations, their fearful response to Sova
Sen's demoniac portrayal of Lady Macbeth's ambition, their jocular, yet wary accep-
tance of the supernatural. He realized that the villagers grasped the intricacies of the
narrative in Macbeth because they responded to it on the level of myth. I !;
 Imperial Theatre in India 95
Not just Macbeth but most plays of Shakespeare, especially the tragedies
and the romances, have a potential to appeal at the level of myth that few
directors can afford to ignore. The mythic enables an artist to explore that
region of the human psyche which is haunted by archetypal dreams, fears and
passions; and they can not be trammelled up by barriers erected in the inter-
ests of "a local habitation and a name," be it Indian or imperialist British.
Not all Indian producers were motivated by Utpal Dutt's artistic idealism;
theatrical entrepreneurs, especially in Bombay, found Shakespeare highly
lucrative. Yajnik cites the case of a Marathi company that found The Taming
of the Shrew a manager's dream of a box-office hit: the run was so successful
that the company cleared its accumulated debt. On the Urdu stage, with the
exception of some tasteful renderings by the famous Khatau, Shakespearean
characters suffered some strange mutations in the interests of commercial
success. The Urdu kavi gutted the plays of their "blood and thunder" elements
and pepped up his travesties with romance. The results were often outrageous
Tatefications: in one version of King Lear, not only does Cordelia live to gain
the crown and reign with France but the play ends with a chorus of dancing
girls singing in jubilee."
Since Indian appropriation of Shakespeare ranged from sensitive transposi-
tions to melodramatic distortions it is misleading to treat them as products of
a calculated, imperialist propaganda. Moreover, few Indian playwrights and
producers were so culturally subservient as not to exploit the opportunities for
political protest that the theatre offered. The practice of ending plays with a
rousing song invoking the "Motherland" could not but appeal to nationalist
sentiments. As early as in 1825, James Prinsep, a noted traveller and artist,
had observed the ambivalence inherent in Indian response to the British;
describing in great detail a lavish, princely staging of the Ramayana in
Benares during a Dassera festival, Prinsep comments, "this year there were
seen a number of jacketted 'Sahibs' in white-faced masks, whether intended
as appropriate allies of Ravana's host of demons, or merely as a specimen of
masquerade, I will not presume to detennine."11
Like their Elizabethan and Jacobean counterparts, some Indian playwrights
were adept at giving subversive political slants to their dramatization of
historical personages and events; Girish Chandra Ghosh, whose popular
historical plays were very likely inspired by Shakespeare's chronicle plays,
celebrated the heroic exploits of rulers like Mir Kasim and Siraj-Ud-Daula in
a manner calculated to offend the British - Siraj-Ud-Daula had traumatized
the British with his notorious "black hole of Calcutta." What would have been
perhaps more galling was Ghosh's exposure of the corruptions of the East
India Company. The Marathi stage excelled in rousing anti-imperialist feelings
in plays based on the life of the Maratha warrior Shivaji; ironically, material
for such plays was unwittingly provided by English chroniclers like Colonel
Todd and Grant Duff.
 CHRlSTINE MANGALA FROST

We need to be cautious in any analysis of British involvement in what their

subjects did in their theatres. Judging by the regular coverage of Indian
theatrical activities, especially of "natives," in Victorian theatre journals and
papers, it would seem that the British public was avid for such news; and the
writers of articles, reports, and gossip columns were more often than not
impelled by a romantic fascination with things oriental rather than by any
overt or covert political agenda. On occasion, an editor could show surprising
sensitivity to the plight of Indians under British censorship: Considerable
media debate followed the passing of the Dramatic Performances Control Act
of 1876 which was passed in reaction to a Bengali play that lampooned the
Prince of Wales's visit to India in 1876." By this Act, thIee kinds of perform-
ances were prohibited: "those of a scandalous or defamatory character, those
likely to excite feelings of disaffection to the Government of British India,
and those likely to deprave and corrupt persons present at the performance.""
Even while approving the legislation, the editor of one paper protests against
a clause by which audiences who" 'assisted' at the representation of a sedi-
tiolls, obscene, or defamatory piece, were liable to punishment."lO This clause
had been apparently defended by another paper, The Pioneer, on the ground
that "in England the onlookers at sports and pastimes which have been de-
clared illegal are punished with the actual promoters."" The concerned editor
of The Theatre points out that

The cases are by no means analogous. A person who goes to a cockfight knows
perfectly well beforehand that he is going to see an illegal exhibition. The Indian
playgoer, on the other hand. may not be so well informed. He may be jealous, too, of
the dignity and purity of the stage, but unless he leaves the theatre at the first indica-
tion of double entendre - and to get out of a place of amusement in India is not an
easy matter - he runs the risk of being mulcted in heavy fine. In other words. the
innocent may be punished with the guilty. The clause in question, we think. might
advantageously be altered, as in practice it would lead to injustice and confusion. 22

Justice and order, the twin goals of imperial rule, no doubt resulted in a
number of oppressive legal measures; yet individual Englishmen and women
often flouted British expectations of behaviour. At a time when, largely as a
consequence of the arrival of the memsahibs, racism had begun to sour
relations between the British and their subjects, a sensational theatrical event
was announced in the Calcutta papers of August r848: Mr. Barry Lewis's
company was to stage Othello at the Sans Souci Theatre, with a young
Bengali amateur actor in the lead role. From a post-colonial perspective it is
easy to interpret newspaper reports of this event as patronising, and, surmise,
as Jyostna Singh does, that they express hidden racial anxiety. '3 But, if we set
aside what tends to be an automatic distaste for Victorian mores and terminol-
ogy, and scan the papers that covered this momentous event, a more complex,
 Imperial Theatre in India 97
even genial, perspective emerges. The performance, scheduled for 10 August
1848, and well advertised beforehand, suffered a serious setback on the
opening night. According to one report, not only the theatre personnel but the
public were taken by surprise at what happened:

The friends of Young Bengal mustered in considerable numbers at the place of recre-
ation, on Thursday night, to witness the long looked for debut of a nalive amateur in
the character of Othello. Unfortunately, they were doomed to disappointment - not
indeed owing to any defection on the part of the debutant or the Calcutta amateurs,
but, solely, because the parties who were severally to have played 1ago, Brabantio and
Emilia, were prohibited from doing so by the preremptory military order of the
Brigadier of Dum Dum. A letter to that effect, we understand . was forwarded to the
stage manager by half past 6; moreover, the police were in attendance, having
received military notice to arrest the well-known amateurs should they have attempted
to make their appearance. Many appeared to be greafly cut up at this untoward event,
but none more so than poor Mr. Barry who promised to use his every effort to
produce the play on Thursday next, and thus far solace those who might sunnise -
"Othello's occupation '5 gone!"14

The reasons for the brigadier's "preremptory" order being delivered so late,
when he must have been aware of what his people were doing, are not given.
It could have been a whimsical imposition of racial segregation; on the other
hand, it is equally possible that the actors were in breach of some military
regulation. Whatever the official justification was, newspaper reports did not
condone the brigadier's action. When Mr. Barry Lewis went ahead with the
performance the following week, several notices appeared lending him support
and wishing the young Indian well. On 17 August, the Bengal Hurkaru alld
I"diall Gazette assured an anxious public that the tickets issued for the
cancelled performance would be valid: "We hope that the attendance may be
worthy of an occasion so remarkable and that the ability of the native amateur
may be found equal to his courage."" As far as theatre audiences were con-
cerned, Baishnavacharan Auddy's debut as Othello seems to have been a
resounding success. As one reviewer put it, "if the indulgent applause of the
audience is to be taken as a criterion of success, Baboo Baishnavacharan
Addy, can have no cause, to complain."26 The same reviewer, while applaud·
ing the courage of the "young aspirant for dramatic fame," takes some trouble
to give a frank appraisal, act by act, and offer some constructive criticism:

Othello's entry was greeted with a hearty welcome, and the first speech "Let him do
his spite" evidenced considerable study and an absence of that timidity so constantly
the comcomitant of a first appearance.
Slim but symmetrical in person, his delivery was somewhat cramped, but under aU
circumstances, his pronunciation of English was for a native remarkably good.
 CHRISTINE MANGALA FROST

Othello's self-command before the Vc;netian state was well upheld, and by the time
he had arrived at
"who loved me for the dangers I had passed
And I loved her (ha( she did pi.y .hem"
the perfonner had substantial demonstration thai the audience were fairly enlisted on
his side. As might have been expected, he was far from being proficient in the art of
bye-play which was painfully awkward throughout the piece. There certainly was
nothing like claptrap but a better knowledge of stage business would be a great
desideratum. From a general charge of tameness some startling exceptions are to be
taken; for instance, in the second act, the lofty tone of authority wherewith he quells
the brawl. .. . The third act was very poor and the utterance of the finest passage
"Farewell the neighing steed and shrill trumpet" etc. was a dead failure.
This act was more or les s relieved by the vitality infused into the part when Othello
seizes Jago by the throat, and shortly afterwards by the energetic, full-toned de~lara­
lion of
"Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow cell,
Yield up, a love, thy crown . .. " 17

The reviewer continues in this vein, apportioning praise and blame as it

seemed fil, and he maintains the same tone while assessing the perfonnance
of o.hers. He is prepared to make some allowances for the amateurs bu. no.
for .he professionals in .he cast. His assessment of Mrs. Anderson, a profes-
sional actress who took the part of Desdemona, is that she is "greatly im-
proving," but " it is much to be regretted .hat her voice should be so very
weak.'·18
Victorian reviewers, like their modem counterparts, were not noted for their
generosity. Yet in the case of Baishnavacharan Auddy's Othello qualified
praise and even adverse criticism must have been more welcome than
patronising indulgence. The venture might have been a one-off event, yet it
demonstrated .hat the theatre was looked upon as a place where political and
racial barriers could be transcended. This was .he view expressed by the
editor of Mookeljee's Magazille, an Indian equivalent of The Gelltlemall's
Magazille. He wri.es with passionate concern about .he plight of Indians in
the civil service whom he describes as vic.ims of a British "conspiracy of
contempt, which neither permits them to rise to even subordinate ministerial
'0
offices, nor concedes them anything like social equality with Europeans";"
yet the writer has no difficulty in lending support to .he theatre of Mr. Lewis.
Recommending his programme for the September season of 1872, he assures
his fellow countrymen that they need no. be disappoin.ed at the lack of
"nautches," a popular traditional entertainment, that season:

Our native brethren need not repine if they have taste and culture enough to avail
themselves of the noblest kind of recreation. And why should not, they whose fore-
 Imperial Theatre in India 99
fathers delighted in representation of the plays of Kalidas, Bhavabhuti, Sudraka,
Visakadatta. Sriharsha Deva etc., appreciate the drama. We will not lose sight of Mr.
Lewis's theatre. 30

To speak of this or other responses to Shakespeare purely in terms of colonial

mimicry is to caricature and debase the delicate situation faced by educated
Indians during the Raj. They courted the British eagerly yet cautiously. They
were anxious to preserve their cultural identity and yet aware that westerniza-
tion was not only inevitable but necessary if India was to emerge from a
moribund, feudal world. The British Orientalists in particular were sensitive
to the Indian predicament and opposed any crass, official measures that
smacked of cultural imperialism. What happened to Shakespeare in schools,
colleges, and theatres cannot be assessed without reference to a wider context,
and especially to the orientalist-anglicist controversy that preceded Macaulay's
notorious "Minute on Education." Shakespeare's popularity during the Raj is
inevitably tangled with this larger issue of which he unavoidably became a
part: the later English public-school style of education aimed at producing, as
Macaulay put it, "a class of persons, Indian in blood and colour, but English
in taste, in opinions, in morals, and in intellect."3 1
However, despite Macaulay, despite force-feeding, travesties, and Tatefica-
tions, Shakespeare continues to exercise a fascination on the Indian mind of
all types, not just the academic or the theatrical. Few in Maharashtra may
know it, but, according to Yajnik, a popular lullaby sung in Marathi house-
holds has its origin in Desdemona's Willow Song. Sensitive transpositions of
Shakespeare into vernacular theatre bear witness to the creative response of
Indian playwrights and actors. It is hard to imagine the thriving modem
theatres in many Indian states wi thout their colonial heritage. The writers and
directors who drew inspiration from Shakespeare did so out of choice. Despite
the political tensions inherent in a colonial condition, artists were able to
respond freely because those people who brought Shakespeare to India had
themselves only a tenuous connection with the imperialists. Like the Oriental-
ists of the early nineteenth century, they were, by and large, "Indianizers,"
and quickly established a rapport with Indians of all classes. Without such
rapport it would have been impossible to produce any plays at all. It is
heartening to find that Sir Geoffrey Kendal and his wife Laura Kendal have
recently figured in the honours list of India's most prestigious award-giving
institution, the Sahitya Academy.

NOTES

1 A Passage to India (London , 1924), p. 22.

2 Ibid., p. 38.
3 The Theatre, t September t88t, p. 141.
100 CHRISTINE MANGALA FROST

4 Ibid., p. 140.
5 Ibid.
6 The Complete Works of Lord Macaulay, Vol. xi (London, 1898), p. 28.
7 Quoted in Rustom Barucha. Rehearsals a/Revolurion: the Political Theatre of
Bengal (Honolulu , 1983), pp. 28- 29.
8 Jyostna Singh, "Different Shakespeares: the Bard in Colonial/Postcolonial India,"
TIIeatreJournal, 41 (1989),446.
9 Ibid·,447·
10 David Holloway, Playing the Empire (London, 1979), p. 142.
II The Shakespeare Wallah : the Autobiography of Geoffrey Kendal (London, 1986),
P·14·
12 Ibid., p. 89.
13 R.K. Yajnik, The Indian Theatre; its Origins and its Later Development under
European Influence (New York, 1970 [1934]), p. 142.
14 Ibid., p. 178.
15 Rehearsals of Revolution, p. 62.
16 See Yajnik, Indian Theatre, p. 172.
17 Cited in Y ajnik, lndialJ Theatre, pp. 59-00.
18 Rehearsals 0/ Revolution, p. 22 .
19 The Theatre, 20 February 1877, p. 4 1.
20 Ibid.
2 1 Ibid.
22 Ibid.
23 "Different Shakespeares," 446.
24 Bengal Hurkaru and India Gazette, Saturday 12 August 1848, p. 171.
25 Ibid., 17 August 1848.
26 Ibid., 19 August 1848, pp. 193--94·
27 Ibid.
28 Ibid.
29 Mookeljee's Magazine, N.S . I ( 1872), 13-14.
30 Ibid., 232.
31 Macaulay, op. cit., p. 249.