The case for print: Why Marathi’s future is bright

The data presented at the 99th All India Marathi Literary Conference in Satara was a sobering accounting of cultural retreat. In a state of 130 million people, liquor shops are said to outnumber Marathi bookshops, and a metropolis like Mumbai, with a population exceeding 20 million, reportedly has only five Marathi bookshops. The once-lauded library movement, championed by figures like Yashwantrao Chavan, is deemed to be in its "final stages," with the very existence of a librarian's post now contingent on a student enrollment threshold of 1,000. When the very act of publishing — the intellectual infrastructure of the language — is burdened by an 18% GST, the battle for Marathi’s survival, as Patil warned, has indeed reached the doorstep of every citizen.

Books as a bridge of knowledge

To understand the stakes, one must first appreciate the intellectual bridges that have kept Marathi connected to the global current. Prof. Rajendra Dengle, a personality whose recent retirement marks the close of a long and vital chapter, embodied this role. Having taught for four decades at Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU), his work extended far beyond the classroom. He was, fundamentally, a link between two literary worlds, translating German literature into Marathi and Marathi works into German. His scholarly output — from literary theory to cultural studies — grounded European literary traditions in an Indian context, reflecting a commitment to knowledge transfer that is the lifeblood of a confident speaker of the mother tongue. The meticulous, almost "medical" approach he applied to translating Nobel laureates like Herta Müller into Marathi underscores a foundational truth: a language is only as strong as its capacity to absorb, translate, and reflect the world’s complexity.

This intellectual rigour has been paralleled by an uncompromising ethos in the publishing trenches. The recent death of Arvind Patkar, the founder of Manovikas Prakashan, highlighted the legacy of the progressive publisher. Patkar, whose roots lay in the militant labour movement of Mumbai’s mill workers, proved that a publishing house could thrive by shunning religious or superstitious topics and committing instead to secular, knowledge-oriented literature. Manovikas became a beacon, publishing works by authors from science (Jayant Narlikar) to social change (Dr Anant Phadke), and in doing so, kept alive the post-1960s spirit of intellectual progress and aspiration for a better life among the Marathi populace.

The new print reality

Following this tradition, a new generation of boutique publishing houses, such as my own, Amaltash Books, has emerged, adapting to the post-pandemic digital reality while maintaining a focus on literary quality. The experience of running a small press has clarified the current challenges and opportunities. The Covid-19 pandemic, by disrupting supply chains and changing consumer behaviour, shattered the long-standing norm of a 1,000-copy print run, forcing a pragmatic shift to smaller, more efficient editions.

This technological pivot has been coupled with a strict editorial philosophy: the success of a publisher is not measured by turnover, but by the number of new, talented voices brought into the light. Amaltash Books has deliberately chosen the path of a literary incubator, focusing on poetry and non-formulaic non-fiction, consciously rejecting the current market’s clamour for 'self-help' translations. By nurturing poets and playwrights who are already adept at social media and possess a global perspective, the publishing house embraces the fact that literature now exists in both print and digital worlds. This adaptation — shifting focus to online platforms like Amazon and direct sales, and offering ancillary services like film subtitling and translation of business documents — is what sustains the printed word in the long run.

The unyielding importance of the printed artefact

Yet, the importance of the physical book transcends market dynamics. A recent seminar on Marathi Publishing at the Jaipur Literature Festival crystallised the case for print as an “indispensable act of cultural preservation.” The physical world, it was argued, is the vessel that holds a 2,500-year-old tradition and the tangible artefact that grounds a culture against the fleeting currents of global change.

This is a commitment that manifests in monumental projects, such as the ongoing compilation of a comprehensive dictionary covering the state’s 216 dialects — a powerful act of linguistic mapping that acknowledges Marathi’s cosmopolitan history, having adopted words from 35 foreign languages. Historically, the printed word has been an instrument of political and cultural awakening. In the 19th century, in contrast to the painful inferiority complex that led some leaders to denigrate Sanskrit, scholars like Mahadev Moreshwar Kunte and Krishnashastri Chiplunkar consciously used print — through the publication of Marathi epic poems on Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj — to stir a sense of self-respect and lay the groundwork for a broader cultural awakening.

Survival in today's times

The crisis of the vanishing reader has finally prompted a response from the political establishment. At the Satara conference, Deputy Chief Minister Eknath Shinde, in a clear statement of cultural support, announced a "shower of schemes" to revitalise public engagement: the establishment of bookstalls in every state bus station, two designated, half-priced stalls in municipal centres, and a commitment to reducing the prohibitive GST on paper.

This state intervention, however, must be met by a professional evolution within the industry. Publishers and authors must recognise, as they did at the conference, that a single book can be the seed for a play, a web series, or a podcast. The future involves a necessary embrace of audiobooks to meet the modern reader where they are and a collective effort to make reading, in the words of one publisher, "a fashion among the youth."

The battle for Marathi is not a sentimental plea for a return to the past. It is a pragmatic fight for the intellectual bandwidth and cultural self-regard of a region. It is a demand for quality editing, intelligent marketing, and professional rigour. The enduring, unyielding importance of the printed book lies in its ability to anchor a dynamic, complex, and ancient language in the 21st century. The path forward requires a renewed pact between the state, the entrepreneur, and the scholar. The survival of our language depends on it.

Prasad Gangurde is the manger, print production & circulation at HMIL. He is a print technologist from the 2000-batch of GIPT.