For the uninitiated, a Festschrift, literally ‘celebration writing‘, is a collection of essays published in honour of a scholar and presented to them at a landmark event such as retirement or birthday. As the contributors are usually that scholar’s peers and friends, such volumes are also called liber amicorum or ‘book of friends’. It inevitably has a virtual avatar nowadays too called Webfestschrift, and if published after a scholar’s death the compilation is called a Gedenkschrift.
The Germanic overtone notwithstanding, Festschrifts are fairly commonplace in academic circles around the world, although initially there were more of these for luminaries in the field of sciences rather than humanities. Now such epistolary toasts are routinely brought out on poets and legal eagles (in India, Keki Daruwala and Nani Palkhivala come to mind), administrators and conservationists, economists and librarians, diplomats and theologians, even journalists.
Bringing out a celebratory volume rather than a commemorative one certainly has its plus points. In India, posthumous eulogies and symposiums to deliberate on the impact of someone’s body of work after they have passed on are more the norm. Assessing a person’s contribution while they are still there, seems so much more proactive. If that person is self-effacing like Prof Gupta, of course, such exercises can be fairly embarrassing too, judging by her facial expression!
With characteristic wry wit, Prof Gupta pointed out that the tongue-twister of a word has nine hefty consonants with just two feeble vowels squeezed in between. In short, a long word calculated to shock and awe, though she did not say so! As the few copies of her Festschrift available for sale at the venue far outstripped demand, most of those in the audience, including this columnist, had no chance to check if the contents were couched in similarly impressive academese.
Hopefully not, though, considering the academics and former students who spoke at the event (who have also contributed essays for her Festschrift) focused on Prof Gupta’s lucid language. Her emphasis on making history interesting, whether in textbooks or just books, and especially when writing for children, needs serious thought. Clear articulation is a rare virtue in Indian academic circles and appealing to a wider audience is not always regarded as necessary or wise.But the writers in the volume are drawn from a wider pool than just academics, which promises more accessible language and argument for the lay reader. Which is just as well, given that Prof Gupta’s forte is urban history, which is more relevant to the average Jyo than, say, Pleistocene Studies in the Upper Krishna Basin. After all, everyone has opinions on the redevelopment of Kartavya Path in ‘Lutyens Delhi‘ and want to know what experts have to say about it too.The benefit of Festschrifts over commemorative volumes is that as they are meant to be prospective rather than retrospective, and thus ideally spur the subject’s disciples to carry the vision forward rather than descend into unproductive eulogies or requiems. As the newest avatar of Delhi desperately struggles to survive its latest and gravest challenges, as its prime chronicler, perhaps Prof Gupta herself could consider a rallying Festschrift on her karmabhoomi.
