The energy of the folk theatre comes from the fact that while it seems to support traditional values, it is also capable of subverting them, looking at them from various points of view ... The form can give rise to a genuine dialectic. (1:347)
Thus, even the style of presentation and viewing is switched from Aryan to Dravidian in Karnad's play. Written for the English-speaking upper class audiences (Aryans and aryanized Dravidians), the play forces them to look at their own myth from a lower class (Dasa) viewpoint (Crow and Banfield 138-39) 24
One of the major theatrical devices in post-independence Indian theater, as pointed out by Karnad himself, is the use of "shallow" and "deep" scenes (Dodiya 27) akin to the Haupt- and Staatsaktionen in Baroque theater. "Shallow" scenes primarily deal with the lower classes and are humorous interludes between serious "deep" scenes involving rich environs and focusing on kings and courtiers. Thus, depth was used to segregate classes as well as to indicate differences between Aryan and non-Aryan.25 In contrast, Yakshagana has only a single plane of action and lacks this class-conscious differentiation tied to depth. Karnad apparently discovered the potential of Yakshagana when writing Tuglaq, the play that immediately preceded Hayavadana: "for the first time in its history I found the shallow scenes bulging with an energy hard to control,' he acknowledges (Dodiya 28). And this same energy ultimately causes the "shallow" scenes in Hayavadana to swallow the "deep" ones, as the Yakshagana triumphs over the Aryan forms of theatrical expression. Furthermore, because the play was-unlike the Yakshagana -performed before the educated and cultural elite in cities it also presented its non-Aryan views using a theatrical style that would otherwise not be seen by the city audience. This folk theater-based play thus becomes an ideal way to return the story of the transposed heads to India by exposing modern Indian audiences to an alternative explanation of the traditional tale.
Not only does Karnad manipulate the medium to change viewer perception, but he also uses his knowledge of Indian myth to draw parallels with other Hindu legends and thereby further strengthen his case against the brahmanical claim that the mind is superior to the body. The play begins with an invocation to Ganesha the elephant-headed god. The Bhagavata voices Karnad's forthright question: An elephant's head on a human body, a broken tusk and a cracked belly-whichever way you look at him he seems the embodiment of imperfection, of incompleteness. How indeed can one fathom the mystery that this very Vakratunda-Mahakaya, with his crooked face and distorted body, is the Lord and Master of Success and Perfection? Could it be that this image of Purity and Holiness, this Mangalamoorthy, intends to signify by his very appearance that the completeness of God is something that no poor mortal can comprehend? (2:1)
Karnad does not use the forms of classical theater to bring
Thus, Karnad begins by drawing the attention of the audience to the stark inconsistency in the figure of the elephant-headed god. If indeed the head rules the body, why is Ganesha not like an elephant in nature? How does this god made of the dirt of Parvati's body and with a head replaced by Shiva signify the idea of harmony and perfection? Raykar points out that the play presents the conflict between Apollonian and Dionysian polarities both at a socio-cultural and metaphysical level and suggests that "completeness" or "perfection" is not possible if it is defined as a fusion of these two extreme polarities (Dodiya 177) 16
Padmini's actions underlie the subversion of the Apollonian principle as enunciated by Raykar. It is her Dionysian attributes that drive the plot of the play until the final death of the two men. She is consciously aware of her own desire for Devadatta and Kapila. And it is this desire and self-awareness that makes her completely different from Somadeva's Madanasundari. The eleven th-century Madanasundari has no personality or self-consciousness. She is little more than a literary device, used to make an interesting philosophical point. However, in the works of Mann and Karnad, it is the act of transposition that becomes the focus of the story. This change of focus from abstract masculine thought to concrete feminine action is responsible for the subversion of the traditional meaning of the parable in these works.
However, although Hayavadana is certainly concerned with the conflict of Apollonian and Dionysian aspects of human nature and is strongly influenced by Mann's work in its exploration of this opposition, it is also a theater production in an India oscillating between its colonial past and its new independence within the framework of an over-arching tradition. Padmini represents the newly independent India, as yet unable to choose between tradition and its more recent Western history. Likewise, when the "horse" Hayavadana sings the national anthem he evokes the empty regurgitation of nationalist feelings following independence. For Karnad the happy laughter that follows the reintegration of Padmini's boy within society is a crucial alternative to the idea of national pride. His characters finally seek happiness at whatever level of "completeness" they are able to achieve rather than continue to seek one unified source of identity for themselves or the entire nation. When horses want to be men and women want brains and brawn in their husbands, then disappointment and disorder are in store. Resigning oneself to live as best one can in one's current circumstances is in Karnad's view the only road to happiness and contentment.
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