The majestic heights and depths of Maname

Text and pix: Dilshan Boange

On the 11th of September the boards of the Namel and Malini Punchi Theatre bore the grandeur of one of the all time classics of Sinhala theatre. The classic Maname by the late Prof. Ediriweera Sarachchandra unfolded in its splendorous lyricism and beguiling melodiousness to enchant an audience that watched deferentially seated under the gentle darkness. Maname holds a special significance in the canon of Sinhala theatre, commanding a centrality and it draws a near reverence from the public that few stage plays can claim.

The depths of classical eastern aesthetic discipline and outlooks are evinced by these kinds of stage plays where at the opening, in versified supplication, the performance seeks permission from the earth, the ground on which the performance unfolds, as well as the sky, sun and heavens above to enact a story of a bygone age.

To nearly every Sri Lankan this play which made its debut sixty years ago, in 1956, is a work of art of which the storyline is generally known. And people generally tend to think of this play as one that makes a ‘statement’ of fickle mindedness, frailty and treachery of the woman. I however feel that its renditions of the human condition as one much broader. Maname is a tragedy of what happens when love, lust, lies, pride and self preservation meet in crosscurrents.

The all too banal ‘all is fair in love and war’ finds much substance within the lyrical text of Maname. When the conflict between Prince Maname and the king of the forest dwelling (Vedda) tribe erupts, there are within the scheme of the event certain lessons of diplomacy and political strategy. The need to destroy the source of the threat to one’s self preservation is an immediacy advocated by ancient teachings of masters of statecraft. These teachings are deftly woven into Maname.

One may ask if the princess’s appeal to her husband, Prince Maname, to spare the subdued king of the Vedda tribe as one of genuine humanist concern or was it a ploy spurred from secret lust. However the scenario may be looked at, one of the clear indications that can be gauged in the text of the play is that a woman’s fickleness and its drawbacks in the midst of the gruesome reality of armed conflict, where self preservation is the primary ‘trophy’, can become a fatal liability.

The Vedda king’s refutation of princess Maname’s declaration of desire for him; after her husband is killed in a mere moment when fate allows a ‘turning of tables’; as one that was strong enough to impel her to betray her husband, shows the Vedda king’s acumen as a man concerned with self preservation and not on the sole basis of ‘honour’. A traitor can never be trusted, and if he were to fall to the flattery of an untrustworthy woman, he would prove himself a fool.

Acting was overall good and must be appreciated. Sanath Wimalasiri as the eponymous ‘Maname’ and Jayanath Bandara as the king of the Vedda tribesmen made an impressive duo in duel. I noticed that it was Bandara who played the role of Rajaguru (head teacher to Prince Maname) before turning ‘savage’ as the forest dweller who kills Prince Maname. This actor must be applauded for doing a good job of switching from an erudite Brahmin to a forest dwelling tribal chief! Costumes and makeup deserve to be appreciated in this production.

The beauty of this play touches on the pulse as one that seeps to the depths of the bond we claim with melodious words and rhythmic paces of delivering language that reflects the situation and predicament. In one way, Maname is a celebration of the richness of the Sinhala language’s beauty to become versified while lending to intensities of character interplay in different situations. May this classic that has delighted and moved more than one generation of theatregoers, continue to resound in significance to each new generation.