Sunday book pick: Meek men meet neoliberal blues in Sarnath Banerjee’s 2004 graphic novel ‘Corridor’

Sarnath Banerjee’s 2004 graphic novel, Corridor, widely considered to be one of the very first of its kind in India, left me in stitches.

Through the disjointed narratives of primarily three men – Brighu, Digital Dutta, and Shintu – across Delhi and Calcutta, emerges a delightful observation of the ever-anxious middle-class India. These wanderers, with wide-ranging troubles and aspirations and seemingly endless time to kill, condense into a telling depiction of uninspiring masculinity that plagues the modern Indian urban man.

Well-educated and of refined taste, these men also embody a vulnerability that was unique to the post-liberalisation generation. The performance of masculinity no longer had to take the traditional modes and men found ways to exhibit their insecurities, accept them to some extent, and even find solutions for them.

Six men

Corridor features six men – Jehangir Rangoonwala, Angrez Bosch, Brighu, Digital Datta, Shintu Sarkar and Professor DVD Murthy. Jehangir Rangoonwala has become a bookstall owner and dispenser of wisdom after trying out forty different jobs. Angrez Bosch, after experimenting with tantra and ayurveda, finds his calling in web design. Brighu has recently suffered a breakup with his girlfriend Kali, who is a fully realised career woman with a mind of her own. Digital Datta is haunted by Marx’s ghosts as he struggles to pick between his dream and an H-1B visa. Shintu pays a heavy sum to enhance his virility only to realise later that the aphrodisiac is nothing but common hair oil. Meanwhile, Professor DVD Murthy, a forensic expert, is busy trying to get the smell of death off him.

Banerjee’s narration does not dwell so much on the granular details of these men’s lives as it does on the niggling effect that a persistent trouble can create on one’s psyche. We don’t even follow a character till the end, but only to the temporary resolution of their problems. These incomplete narrative arcs make the journey with each character all the more rich – offering fleeting views of unresolved crisis in masculinity that the men will quite possibly continue to struggle with even after the problem at hand is taken care of.

New men

Corridor swings between black and white and coloured panels, where the latter comprises collages of photographs, film posters, and even an Adarsh Balak pamphlet strictly meant for schoolboys. A dubious sex specialist claims that the pamphlet holds important lessons on longevity and virility – a man should abide by a strict schedule and be morally upstanding to be able to perform well in bed. A lifelong dedication to a disciplined life is crucial for a blissful, sex-full marital life.

These mild-mannered men appear out of place in Delhi. They do not display the aggressions typical of many Indian men and in fact, the only instance of violence is also noble. Digital Dutta fights off a bunch of goons who harass his girlfriend – and Digital’s valour is two-fold for he fights not only for his lover but also his mother, who is abused by the goons. Shintu, who too could have forced his wife into submission, instead chooses to acknowledge his shortcomings and consult a sex specialist. Brighu is quite fine too when his girlfriend leaves him. This, of course, signals a shift in the idea of urban masculinity – one that was aware of political correctness and perhaps saw merit in being free from traditional expectations.

Banerjee also positions his men as lonesome creatures. They do not really have anyone to talk to or consult about how they might perform this new masculinity. Their bumbling ways generate laughter and so do the wise quips exchanged between them. This peculiarity sits well in Banerjee’s debut novel, and while I’m aware of some of the criticisms directed towards it, I’m impressed by Corridor’s dry humour and for daring to create, all those years ago, a potential for the graphic novel to be a medium to convey India’s continuing struggle with neoliberal values.

Corridor: A Graphic Novel, Sarnath Banerjee, Penguin Random House India.