Reconciling
Islamic and English Traditions in Agha Shahid Ali’s “Tonight”
Alia Noelle Dalal (CAS '08) is an English
major. She is interested in Indian-American literature and tentatively
plans to study music in Kerala during the summer of 2006. She
is a Trustee scholar. This paper was written for Professor Bonnie
Costello's EN520: Modern Poetry and Poetics.
A first encounter with Agha Shahid Ali’s “Tonight” is justifiably
puzzling.1 Within the overarching poetic form of the Urdu, Ali
uses English prosodic devices to interweave quotations from
English literature with Islamic allusions.2 The thick amalgamation
of Urdu and English traditions condenses in the final couplet
of the poem: “And I, Shahid, only am escaped to tell thee –
/ God sobs in my arms. Call me Ishmael tonight” (Ali, “Ghazal”
19-20). In these two short lines, Ali combines Biblical language,
a recognizable – if not cliché – quotation from a great
American novel, and Islamic history and faith all within conventions
of the Urdu ghazal, yet written in English. How does a reader
reconcile the unexpected jumble of Urdu and English poetic elements
and traditions? Through Ali’s use of English and Urdu allusions
and language devices, “Tonight” becomes a poem that belongs
to both traditions, yet is separate from both. Ali combines
the disjunctive couplets and expectations of the ghazal tradition
with the language of English culture, and specifically English
authors, to create a unique complex tradition; this composite
tradition makes the poem’s themes of exile and belief particularly
resonant.
Although other American and English poets appropriate Indian
and Arabian allusions and forms, these poets do not comprise
a movement or even a new tradition because the use and depth
of their borrowings varies greatly. It is tempting to try to
analyze Ali’s “Tonight” as if it exists within one solitary
cultural tradition (Urdu or American) and contains elements
of the other. In his book, Empire and Poetic Voice,
Patrick Colm Hogan (although speaking about a different ghazal
by Ali) claims that because of Ali’s exposure to and internalization
of the ghazal form “... the poem is most appropriately seen
as located within the tradition of the Persian/Urdu ghazal”
(Hogan 205). Although Hogan might have commented differently
if he were talking specifically about “Tonight,” his statement
implies that Ali’s works need to be evaluated as if they exist
within one tradition and incorporate elements of another. While
categories in literary criticism are meant to be functional
and not absolute, the value judgment of which tradition “Tonight”
fits into “more” is an unnecessary one. Saying that one of Ali’s
ghazals “is more appropriately seen” within a certain cultural
tradition implies that either language or theme or form takes
precedence in the poem, a judgment that would certainly be difficult,
if not impossible, to make.
Furthermore, Ali classifies himself “first and foremost” as
“a poet in the English language” (Interview 6). However, “English
language” does not solely refer to the Western English tradition;
it also encompasses the postcolonial Kashmiri tradition and
culture, of which the English language is an essential component
of the culture. For example, in his youth, Ali was surrounded
by both Urdu and English poetry and art and learned to speak
English even before Urdu (Interview 2). The combination of traditions
in his poetry is not a calculated sampling of disparate cultural
elements, but rather a reflection of the diversity of his native
Kashmir: a culture full of English language as well as Urdu
language and Indian/Islamic practices.
In examining more of Ali’s comments on a poet’s place in tradition,
especially from his dissertation “T.S. Eliot as Editor,” Hogan
also finds that “Ali is concerned primarily with Eliot’s emphasis
on…tradition as a living part of the present and as the medium
in which a writer finds his/her own individuality (2, 148)”
(Hogan 205). In this context, the term “tradition” is not the
selected works of a certain group (like “the tradition of the
Persian/Urdu ghazal”), but instead is a comprehensive collection
of literary works or the “timeless and temporal together” (Eliot
942) that Eliot describes in “Tradition and the Individual Talent.”
With this abstracted definition of “tradition,” it can be said
that Ali uses the conventions and expectations of English and
Urdu poetry which together comprise his personal background
to contribute to the literary “tradition,” not a culturally
fragmented one. Ali’s view of “tradition” as a living part of
the present allows him to unapologetically find and express
an individual poetic voice by drawing from the sources that
comprise his understanding of literary tradition. The selective
use of elements from Urdu and English origin in “Tonight” reconcile
the “individual talent” with the “tradition.” While many of
Ali’s readers would not share his equal exposure to English
and Urdu traditions, the allusions and influences can be interpreted
because they are rooted in “tradition;” the literary tradition
is what allows a writer to produce a creative work that the
reader can understand (Hogan 199).
The most obvious Urdu element in “Tonight” is the ghazal form.
The Persian model is the most widely used form and has certain
restrictions on length, rhyme, meter and refrain. While Ali
insisted that English ghazal writers follow the Persian model
to write “the real thing” (“The Ghazal in America: May I?” 123),
some elements of the form are untranslatable. For example, it
is impossible to mimic Urdu meters in English because Urdu is
an unstressed language (Ali, “Ghazal in America” 124). Therefore,
Ali approximates the Urdu meter by making the number of syllables
consistent in every line of “Tonight” (12 syllables per line).
The regular syllabic count unifies the couplets, and the syllabic
evenness nears the recitational quality of the Urdu ghazal.
Although the form has many prosodic restrictions, Ali first
emphasizes the essence of the form when defining the ghazal:
the unification of independent couplets through formal consistency
(“Ghazal in America” 124). The ghazal is composed of a minimum
of five couplets that are thematically independent, and, with
the exception of the first and last couplets, can be rearranged,
added or omitted without altering the overall comprehensibility
of the work.
Despite the intended thematic independence of the couplets,
the addition and placement of couplets certainly has an effect
on the poem. Ali published different versions of “Tonight” with
additional couplets, and the changes obviously alter the interpretation
of the poem. Each internal couplet expands the poem’s ideas
of abandonment by God, disillusionment, and worldly perversion
of religion, in order to assert the speaker’s ultimate fidelity
to God. Nevertheless, “Tonight” contains no enjambment, common
characters or specific ideas between couplets, and so, in this
sense, the couplets are interchangeable and independent.
The strict formal structure of the ghazal unifies the separate
couplets. In addition to the syllabic evenness, there is a singular
rhyme (“-ell”) that connects all the couplets. While the internal
couplets are technically interchangeable, the structural elements,
content, and theme of first and last couplets require their
placement at the beginning and end. The first and last couplets
state the rhyme in both lines instead of just the final line,
like the internal couplets. Also, the first couplet initiates
the radif, or refrain (which will be repeated by the
last line of each following couplet), by ending both lines with
the same word or phrase, in this case, “tonight.” The last couplet
typically features the author’s name – “Shahid” – or pseudonym
(Caplan 2) and ends with the final iteration of the radif.
The refrain “tonight” indicates a similarity among all the images
presented in the separate couplets. The repetition of any word
would serve this function, but “tonight” unifies the different
instances in terms of time. The different images are connected
because they are all occurring tonight. However, the first couplet
illustrates two interpretations of the word “tonight;” the first
“tonight” could be replaced with “now” and the second with “later.”
Although these two words imply different times, the present
and the near future, they essentially imply relative concurrence
of events in the subsequent couplets, and the slight variation
prevents the refrain from stagnating. The radif “tonight”
not only connects the couplets like any refrain would, but connects
them specifically through their simultaneous occurrence. However,
despite the refrain’s assertion of chronological simultaneity,
the poem, and all written language, has the visual implication
of sequence and association. The juxtaposition of independent
images suggests dependence or, at the very least, correlation.
Even with the unifying refrain, “Tonight” still has definite
thematic and ideological movement from the beginning of the
poem to the end. Nevertheless, the formal suggestion of simultaneity
through the radif complicates the poem’s progression.
The ghazal comes not only with a strict form, but also with
a set of thematic expectations. An understanding of the conventions
of the traditional ghazal helps the reader infer a narrative
from the disjunctive couplets. The most common theme for an
Urdu ghazal is unrequited love (Hogan 207). Implicit in the
ghazal tradition is the interpretation of the unreturned love
as an allegory to man’s separation from God, specifically the
Sufi’s inability to achieve oneness with God until death (Hogan
208). Ali develops the Urdu tradition by integrating it with
Western texts. He invokes the Urdu trope of unrequited love
not by alluding to Urdu traditional literary figures, but through
his reworking of Laurence Hope’s “Kashmiri Song” and Emily Dickinson’s
“I am ashamed – I hide.” The epigraph and the quotation marks
containing Dickinsonian phrases indicate that the first three
couplets are not the author’s own words. However, these two
selections were not chosen from English literature merely because
they invoke the themes of unrequited love and unworthiness,
but because the Western poets allude to Kashmir, specifically
through “Shalimar” and “Cashmere.” Unlike Ali, these poets were
not from a Kashmiri background, so their references to the region
are superficial and primarily used to evoke an image of an exoticized
“Orient” to an audience equally unfamiliar with the region.
Also, when the opening lines are read allegorically, they refer
to the Muslim man’s separation from God. Since the lines are
spoken by a Western voice, responsibility for the perversion
of Islam implied by God and man’s mutual perceived abandonment
is associated with, although maybe not assigned to, the West.
However, Ali does not respond with univocal hostility toward
the poets’ appropriations; instead, he uses their affected language
– he even calls Hope’s poem “utterly sentimental” (“Ghazal in
America” 127) – to recall the typical unrequited romantic love
theme.
After the first three couplets, there is a distinct thematic
change: the poem begins to discuss a man’s tenuous relationship
with God and faith, not with a lover. Therefore, the religious
interpretation of the latter part of the poem is not allegory;
the poem begins by speaking of romantic love in a Western voice
and moves to a direct confession (not masked by allegory) of
the narrator’s faith. Ali marks the shift by calling himself
a “refugee from Belief” (“Ghazal” 8), indicating that the essence
of the poem is not about romantic love but about a man exiled
from the safety of his faith. In this couplet, Ali also sets
up the first in a series of paradoxes by having the narrator
escape from “Belief” into the entrapment of a prison “cell,”
possibly implying religious doctrine without faith provides
the security that freedom and truth do not allow.
In the following couplets, the themes of freedom, exile, and
abandonment are inverted and entwined with one another. Ali
makes potentially blasphemous statements by providing his idols
with their own voice so that they cry, “only we can convert
the infidel tonight” (“Ghazal” 12). False gods are given
identity in voice and power to control man (beyond God’s power),
yet are still shown in subjection to God because the “conver[sion]
of the infidel” would lead to true faith. Idols act as
intermediaries in the broken relationship between man and God.
Ali illustrates the perception of God’s abandonment of man through
the inversion of the Islamic miracle of the Sacred Well; instead
of providing water for Ishmael in the desert after his expulsion,
God has “poured rust into the Sacred Well tonight” (“Ghazal”
14). The inversion of the miracle has two functions: first,
unlike water, rust cannot save a life (physical or, here, spiritual)
and second, rust exemplifies Ali’s perception of the decay of
God’s commitment to man.
However, the last couplet reasserts man’s ultimate fidelity
to God. Ali’s statement of his name “Shahid” is in accordance
with the conventions of the ghazal and serves as a reminder
that the poem is personal and confessional. Before declaring
his final statement of his relationship with Islam and God,
Ali invokes the suffering character of Job: “And I, Shahid,
only am escaped to tell thee –” (“Ghazal” 19). However, even
though Islamic and Christian traditions share the Job, Ali uses
the language of the English Bible here. This phrase features
the word “escaped” which parallels Job’s suffering with the
exile of Ishmael who is mentioned in the closing line. The word
“escaped” deals with both imprisonment and exile (bringing up
the questions of escape: “from what?” and “to where?”) and relates
to the earlier vignette-like couplets dealing with these themes.
The final phrase, “Call me Ishmael tonight” (Ali, “Ghazal” 20),
specifically invokes exile and suffering. While obviously taken
from the opening of Melville’s Moby Dick, the concluding
statement recalls imagery from the Islamic association as well
as the Western. The conclusion rounds the poem by ending like
the opening of the poem; Ali directly quotes a Western voice
(although the final word, “tonight” is his own), both paying
homage to the American literary tradition and recalling Western
perceptions and treatment of the “Orient.” Melville’s Ishmael,
based on Biblical associations, is an outcast or rejected son.
However, Islamic tradition glorifies Ishmael’s willingness to
be sacrificed (the Bible associates this story with Isaac) and
emphasizes the ultimate purpose of his exile and rejection:
the founding of Islam.
Aware of the ubiquity of the quotation, Ali uses the phrase,
“Call me Ishmael,” because of its multiple associations in overlapping
traditions; he is able to recall specific associations and connotations
while still letting the definition of his identity remain ambiguous.
Furthermore, the collection of associations from what are perceived
as different traditions began in a solitary tradition; while
Islamic and Christian interpretations of the story of Ishmael
differ, he is still a shared character taken from a historical
point before the traditions were split. Ali’s capability of
drawing on Urdu and English traditions as if they were one tradition
is rooted in the historical/literary union of the two traditions.
While Ali’s “Ishmael” is a composite of associations, the Islamic
story of Ishmael emphasizes not only God’s generosity to man
for not demanding sacrifice, but also Ishmael’s devotion to
God (Hogan 215). By connecting himself to Job and Ishmael and
preceding the last sentence with “God sobs in my arms” (“Ghazal”
20), Ali ultimately asserts his devotion and fidelity to God
despite worldly conflicts and the uncertainty of God’s faithfulness
to him. While his titling as “Ishmael” might seem to contradict
the statement of his given name, “Shahid,” the second appellation
needs to be interpreted along with the first. In Urdu and Arabic,
“Shahid” literally means “witness” and has the religious connotation
of “martyr.” While Ali did not select his given name, he could
have chosen any name with which to sign the last couplet and
is clearly aware of the meaning of this religiously significant
name: “Shahid” as a “witness” refers to Ali’s position as a
poet. The interpretation of this untranslatable name, connecting
a “witness” with a “martyr,” through its relationship with the
complicated Ishmael, affirms Ali’s position that he is faithful
to God through his poetic witness. Ali does not intend to name
himself an eternal martyr because he asks to be called Ishmael
“tonight.” The word “tonight” implies the immediacy and temporality
of his request. However, “tonight” as the radif gives
the poem a self-referential quality, implying that his position
as a martyr is caused by his position as a poet.
“Tonight” is a result of Ali’s exposure and contribution to
the tradition. The entire poem, especially the last couplet,
depends on multiple cultural understandings of his allusions.
Like his relationship with God, his contribution to the tradition
is not a stagnant historical truth, but rather, one that has
been affected by changes in traditions and beliefs. Through
his position as a shahid – implying both “witness”
and “martyr,” recognizing the fused tradition and creating a
contribution to it – Ali unifies the tradition of Islamic and
English poetry in order to confess fidelity to a solitary God.
References
Ali, Agha Shahid. “Ghazal.” The Norton Anthology of Modern and
Contemporary Poetry. Ed. Jahan Ramazani, Richard Ellmann, and
Robert O’Clair. Vol. 2. New York: Norton, 2003. 893-894.
-----. Interview with Christine Benvenuto. The Massachusetts
Review Summer 2002. 1-6.
-----. “The Ghazal in America: May I?” After New Formalism.
Ed. Anniew Finch. Ashland, Oregon: Story Line Press, 1999. 123-132.
Caplan, David. “‘In That Thicket of Bitter Roots’: The Ghazal
in America.” The Virginia Quarterly Review. Vol. 80 no. 4 (Fall
2005).
Eliot, T.S. “Tradition and the Individual Talent.” The Norton
Anthology of Modern and Contemporary Poetry. Ed. Jahan Ramazani,
Richard Ellmann, and Robert O’Clair. Vol. 1. New York: Norton,
2003. 941-947.
Hogan, Patick Colm. Empire and Poetic Voice. New York: SUNY
Press, 2004. 197-225.
