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narrator
| focalization | narrative mediation | characters | time | types
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novel
(literature) in Britannica ;
(Rimmon-Kennan 1983)
narrator is the narrative voice, the speaker of the text
implied author and implied reader are not participants in the narrative communication process (they don’t speak)
Narration is an event, at a different level from the narrated (fictional) event, always superior
Narration —story relationships: • temporal • subordination (narrative levels)
Temporal:
Ulterior narration: events may be narrated only after they happen (common sense, but ...)
anterior narration: narration which precedes events (generally using future tense, also the present), as in prophecies (biblical), curses, dreams
simultaneous e.g. reporting or diary events (e.g. when the narrator seems to be verbalizing his actions while performing them)
Intercalated when telling and performing follow each other in alternation: classic examples are the epistolary novels (Les liaison dangereuses 1782 by Laclos)
Levels: diegesis= story
• extradiegetic: immediately superior to the first narrative, concerned with its narration
e.g.: the narrator in Canterbury Tales; adult Pip in Great Expectations
• diegetic level (Genette ‘intradiegetic): the narrated events themselves
e.g. the pilgrims’ journey; Pip falling in love with Estella
• hypodiegetic (Genette ‘metadiegetic): events narrated by fictional characters. Second degree narrative
e.g. the exploits of the pardoner; Arabian Nights,
Function of hypodiegetic narratives: actional; explicative; thematic;
Authors often play with narrative levels to blur the borderline between reality and fiction
Typology of narrators: according to 4 criteria or factors
1- narrative level
2- participation in the story it narrates
3- perceptibility
4- reliability
Narrative level:
• extradiegetic narrator: above or superior to the story
e.g.: Tom Jones (1749), Sons and Lovers (1913), Pip in Great Expectations; [the narrator in Canterbury Tales]
• intradiegetic narrator (second degree narrator): if the narrator is also a diegetic character in the first narrative told by the extradiegetic narrator, then there is a second-degree or intradiegetic narrator
e.g.: the pardoner in Canterbury Tales; Marlowe in Heart of Darkness,
James’s Turn of the Screw the anonymous ‘I’ is the extradiegetic narrator, the intradiegetic one is Douglas, the hypodiegetic narrator is the governess
• hypodiegetic narrator (metadiegetic)
Participation in the story
Both extra and intradiegetic narrator can be present or absent of the story they narrate!
• heterodiegetic: does not participate in the fictional story
e.g.: Tom Jones (1749), Sons and Lovers (1913),
• homodiegetic: does participate
protagonist (autodiegesis) - witness (observer)
Combination:
• [extra-heterodiegetic] omniscient narrators
e.g.: Tom Jones (1749), Sons and Lovers (1913), (Gen: Homer)
• extra-homodiegetic: e.g. retrospective narrative in 1st person
e.g.: Pip in Great Expectations, he is a higher narratorial authority with respect to the fictional characters and events (from above) but tells a story of himself when young.
• [intra-heterodiegetic]: fictional or diegetic narrator telling a story (second degree narrative) in which she does not participate
e.g.: Schherezade is a fictional character in a story narrated by an extradiegetic narrator; yet inthe stories sh narrates, she does not participate, she does not appear as a character. She is therefore an intradiegetic - heterodiegetic character
• [intra-homodiegetic: fictional or diegetic narrator telling a story (second degree narrative) in which he is a character (second degree
e.g. pardoner in Canterbury Tales (protagonist); Lockwood in Wuthering Heights (1847) (witness); (Gen: Ulysses in books IX i XII)
Degree of perceptibility of the narrator’s presence
This ranges from more covert to more overt (Booth describes them as dramatized and undramatized narrators) See also Stanzel
maximum of covertness: Hemingway’s ‘The Killers’
Signs of the narrator’s presence (Chatman’s list in mounting order of perceptibility)
1. Description of setting: In a play or film, the description is shown directly, but in narrative fiction, it has to be said in language, the language of the narrator
2. Identification of characters: ‘Mrs Dalloway said she would buy flowers herself’, ‘Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich...’
3. Temporal summary: To compress a lapse of time in a summary (a whole life of the character Albino in Nabokov’s Laughter in the dark ) implies the presence of a narrator
4. Definition of character:
5. Reports of what characters did not think or say: A narrator who can tell things of which the character are unconscious or conceal is clearly felt as an independent source of information
6. Commentary: a) Interpretation: When the narrator explains something either about the story or about the narration.
b) Judgements
c) generalizations
Reliability
Reliable narrator: when the reader takes the narrator’s rendering or commentary of the story as an authoritative account of the fictional truth
Unreliable narrator: when the reader suspects the narrator
Different degrees of unreliability
Signs of unreliability:
- narrator’s limited knowledge,
- his personal involvement,
- his problematic value-scheme: the colouring of the narrator’s account by a questionable value-scheme
A narrator’s moral values are considered questionable if they do not tally with those of the implied author
When the facts contradict the narrator’s views
when the outcome of the action proves the narrator wrong
when the views of other characters clash with the narrator’s
when the narrator’s language contain internal contradictions
(Rimmon-Kennan 1983 ; Cohan and Shires pp. 96-98; Bal )
Term proposed by Genette to refer to point of view, angle of vision, perspective, prism, “vision”, “champ”, ...
Focalization avoids confusion between ‘perspective’ and ‘narration’ implied in the use of the term “point of view”.
‘Who speaks?’ and “Who sees?”. They are not necessarily the same agent. Someone may tell what another says
Focalization and narration are separated in 1st person retrospective narration; Pip in Great Expectations: Pip, the adult, narrates; Pip, the child, focalizes
‘3rd-person centre of consciousness’ (The Ambassadors, Portrait), the centre of consciousness if the ‘focalizer’ (or ‘reflector’ -term used by H. James and by F. Stanzel), while the user of the 3rd person is the narrator
–> Then, on focalization terms, there is no difference between 1st person retrospective narration and ‘3rd-person centre of consciousness’: focalizers are both characters within the fictional world. The narrator is different
Distinguish between ‘focalizer’ (subject) and ‘focalized’ (object)
Types of focalization: 1) position relative to story; 2) degree of persistence
1) Position relative to story
Focalizer
– external (Genette ‘non-focalized’ récit): Tom Jones, A Passage to India; or in 1st person narratives L’etranger, [Joyce’s “Araby”]
“narrator-focalizer”
– internal (analogous to Genette internal): inside the represented events:
generally a “character-focalizer” = Pip, the child, in many parts of Great Expectations
Test: if narrative segment can be rewritten in 1st person then the segment was internally focalized
Focalized object can be seen from ‘without’ (only outward appearance is presented) or from ‘within’ (feelings, and thoughts are presented)
In combination:
external focalizer — focalized from without (Abraham about to kill his son)
— focalized form within (Sons and Lovers)
19th c. novel; ‘he thought’ ‘he felt’
internal focalizer — focalized from without (Hemingway, Kafka)
— focalized from within (Molly Bloom) interior monologue
2) Degree of persistence
– fixed: one focalizer throughout the novel
– alternate: between two predominant focalizers : White The Solid Mandala (1966)
– multiple : shift among several focalizers: Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury (1931)
Facets of focalization: perceptual, psychological, ideological
Perceptual facet
The focalizer’s sensory range. Perception (sight, hearing, smell, etc,) is determined by two main coordinates: time, space
Space
– bird’s eye: panoramic or simultaneous focalization (classical position of narrator-focalizer)
– limited observer: internal focalization, attached to a character or an agent within the story (Joyce’s Eveline)
Time
External focalization: – panchronic (if unpersonified focalizer), or – retrospective (if character focalizer)
Internal focalization: – synchronous with the information, limited to the ‘present’ of characters
Psychological facet
Concerns the mind and emotions of the focalizer. Cognitive and emotive orientation of the focalizer towards the focalized
Mind - cognitive component:
External focalizer - unrestricted knowledge [omniscient]
Internal focalizer - restricted knowledge. being a part of the represented world he cannot know everything
Emotion - emotive component:
External -objective, neutral, uninvolved focalization
Internal - sujective, coloured, involved focalization
Ideological facet
Consists of ‘a general system of viewing the world conceptually’ in accordance with which the events and characters of the story are evaluated (Uspensky 1973: 8)
The idelogy of the narrator-focalizer is usually taken as authoritative, and all other ideologies (which may emerge) are evaluated from this ‘higher’ position
In
more complex cases, the single authoritative external focalizer
gives way to a plurality of ideological positions whose validity
is doubtful in principle. Some of these positions may concur in
part or in whole, others may be mutually opposed, the interplay
among them provoking a non-unitary
‘polyphonic’ reading of the text (Bakhtin)
Crime and Punishment. The ideology of the text emerges from a juxtapostion of Raskolnikov’s views with his own performance, as well as with the opinions of Razumihin, Sonia, Svidrigailov, and the anonymous officer in the bar
A character may represent an ideological position through his way of seeing the world of his behaviour in it , but also -like Raskolnikoiv- through explicit discussion of his ideology.
Ideology contributes to focalization but also plays a part in the story (characters) and in narration
Interrelations among the various facets
They may concur, but also belong to different, even clashing focalizers.
In Great Expectations, the perceptual focalizer is usually the young, experiencing Pip,
whereas the ideology tends to be focalized by the older, narrating Pip
Verbal indicators of focalization
Focalization is expressed by language
Naming: use of various names for the same character (for Napoleon in war and Peace ) betray differences and changes of attitude toward him: for the Russians, Bonaparte, Buonaparte; for the French, Napoleon, L’empereur. Most Russians switch to Napoleon after the conquest
Shifts in naming can indicate a change of focalizer within the same sentence or paragraph
Adjective may indicate an evaluation made on the part of the narrator as focalizer
Verb may indicate an action (to forget) which point to an external focalizer by signalling a temporal and cognitive distance from the event
There
are cases in which is difficult or even impossible to distinguish
between external and internal focalization: e.g. “I imagine that I
bore my chalice safely through a throng of foes” (Joyce, “Araby”,
quoted from Rimmon-Kennan p. 86)
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Sources:
Stanzel (S), Rimmon-Kenan (K), Genette (G), Friedman (F),
Barthes (BR), Wayne Booth (BW)
Following table of ´kinds of narrative mediation´.
If we take into account focalization, participation of narrator and perceptibility of narrator (Stanzel: perspective, person, mode) we can talk about three ideal kinds of narrative situation depending on the combination of these aspects and which aspect dominates:
Omniscient narrator (non-character narrator)
authorial = *external perspective
*high degree of perceptibility (R) - narrator mode, personalized narrator (S) ‘telling’ (F),
* heterodiegetic (R, G), non-character narrator; narrator exists outside his fictional reality, does not belong to the world of the characters (S), non-identity with the realms of existence (person)
Character- narrator
first person = * homodiegetic (R); narrator is a character within the world of the fictional events identity (person)
* internal perspective
*high degree of perceptibility (R) - narrator mode, personalized narrator (S) ‘telling’ (F), repertorial narration (S),
3rd person centre of consciousness
figural = * minimum or zero degree of perceptibility (R); unpersonalized narrator, scenic presentation (S) = ‘showing’ (F), reflector-character (mode)
reflection of fictional events through consciousness of a character in the novel without narratorial comment.
This character Stanzel calls ‘reflector’ (distinct from the narrator) E.g. Portrait of the Artist
* internal perspective
*heterodiegetic (R, G), non-character narrator; narrator exists outside his fictional reality, does not belong to the world of the characters (S), non-identity with the realms of existence (person)
that is third-person reference (to the reflector-character)
Effects, techniques
we will also take into account two types of narrative:
- report, telling: narration is interpreted, explained
- scene, showing: projects the action directly before the eyes of the reader, it is less abstract
Omniscient narrator (authorial)
-> ‘the novelist commands all the secrets of life’ privilege (Forster),
the story can be seen from any or all the angles
allows the author to reveal the minds of his characters freely and at will and to dominate with his superior and explanatory tone the perception and awareness of his characters
Telling, repertorial narration (S) predominates
Characters’ consciousness: rendered in report form, as complete thoughts in full sentences
Suitable for exciting novels which rush from one phase to the next
for novels with great spans of time (the repertorial narration can compress the stream of events, increase or decrease the tempo)
Sometimes this mediation is disguised as an ‘editor of a manuscript’, a ‘reporter of an event communicated to him’
Editorial omniscience: Tom Jones, War and Peace
narrator intrudes. Reports what goes on. Criticizes what goes on in the mind of the characters, and of his own
narrator may speak in 1st person, ‘I’ or ‘We’
Neutral omniscience: [Sons and Lovers, A Passage to India]
absence of direct authorial intrusions, narrator avoids personal commentary
narrator speaks impersonally in 3rd person
Uses report to describe and explain the character’s words and action from his perspective
‘... a figure came from the dark. It was a tall young man. He had a swarthy complexion with a well-groomed black mustache with curled points though his age could not be more than three or four-and-twenty’
Character-narrator (First-person narrator) Great Expectations
Internal focalization -> enhances effect of realism
-> story close to reality,
sense of immediacy, vividness, gains intensity
<- con. it’s all report, it creates a distance, less mobility, smaller range of source of information
Report-like narration is used, and reminds the reader of the existence of a narrating process which is separated from the experiencing process by a time span (a narrating self is different from the experiencing self)
Scenic presentation concentrates the reader’s interest onthe action and thus on the experiencing self
Characters’ consciousness:
If scenic presentation is executed to an extreme degree, all references and traces of the narrating self are eliminated: action consists of dialogue or monologue
Characters’ consciousness: if the narrating self withdraws -> interior monologue, stream of consciousness)
It can appear in the 3rd person
Continuous spectrum according to the degree of presentation of the narrative act [perceptibility]Ñ toward the authorial novel, towards the figural novel
Witness-narrator
: Moby Dick
The reader perceives only the thoughts, feelings, and perception of the witness-narrator
The witness has no more than ordinary access to the mental states of the other characters (through letters, diaries; inferences)
Usually the witness-narrator informs the reader of his limitations
Scene predominates
Suitable for suspense, mystery, a situation to be gradually built up (Lord Jim)
Protagonist-narrator
: Robinson Crusoe
To tell one-s own story in 1st person -> less mobility and smaller range of sources of information
Limited almost entirely to his own thoughts
Suitable for tracing the growth of a personality (Great Expectations)
The epistolary novel can be viewed as an extension of the First-person novel
Henry Esmond (The History of Henry Esmond written by Himself by W. Thackeray= on the borderline between authorial and First-person.
The narrator plays the authorial role as long as he reports the story of his hero in the third person. That story is his own story.
The narrator again and again reveals his identity with the hero, in a few places he even narrates in the 1st person
3rd person centre of consciousness (Figural narrative situation) (The Ambassadors)
A character-author speaking about the lives of other characters is an obstacle between his illusion of reality and the reader (F)
To reach illusion of reality = story told as if by a character
The reader perceives directly the action filtered through the consciousness of one of the characters, thus avoiding that removal to a distance produced by retrospective 1st person narr. Instead of receiving a report, we receive an act of judgement and reflection (F)
(internal focalization) in 3rd person (non-participant narrator, heterodiegetic narrator) [figural narr. sit.]
The reader has the illusion of being present on the scene in one of the figures, or if the point of observation does not lie in any of the novel’s figures, the reader has the feeling of being present as an imaginary observer, witness of the events (S)
The reader seems to listen to no one, the story comes directly through the mind of the characters (F)
The appearance of the characters, the setting, is perceived by the reader only through the mind of a character(s) (F)
Scene predominates, both focalized from within and from without
Showing (not telling) Difference between omniscient author/narrator peering into the minds and telling, and the withdrawn author showing us internal states
-She saw a figure com from the dark. It was a tall young man. She noticed his swarthy complexion with a well-groomed black moustache with curled points. Though he cannot be more than three or four-and-twenty, she thought’
When all traces of the process of narration are removed -> dramatic mode (Friedman) as in ‘The Killers’, action presented in dialogue
Suitable for novels in which the action progresses slowly (as opposed to ‘authorial narr situation’)
for novel concentrating in a short span of time (Mrs Dalloway a few hours)
for novels concerned with the rendering of human consciousness
Since 1900, the figural novel has enjoyed ever-growing popularity (Henry James, John Dos Passos, Hemingway, Steinbeck, Woolf, Huxley)
This is connected to the discovery of the human consciousness as an object of literary presentation
Human consciousness characterized by momentary and fragmentary moods, thoughts, a volatile material which does not cry for a narrative mediation in the form of a report (‘telling’) but scenic presentation without the obtrusive presence of the narrator
The mental process is the action of the novel
Characters’ consciousness: rendered in free indirect discourse as dominant form
-thought report= ‘On turning round Fred saw Jack coming across the street towardshim’
- ‘ ‘Look!’ Fred turned round. Jack was coming across the street towards him’
Multiple selective omniscience / Selective omniscience
multiple: the reader is allowed a composite of perspectives (To the Lighthouse)
selective: the reader is limited to the mind of only one of the characters (Portrait of the Artist)
multiple: suitable to present experience or personality as emerging from the sensibilities of various individuals
selective: suitable to catch the mid in a moment of discovery (Portrait)
A first person novel (without designation of the narrative act) can be translated into a figural novel is the 1st person is changed to a 3rd person
Dramatic
mode
(Hemingway ‘Hills like White Elephants’, James’s The Awkward Age)
Information available to the reader is limited to what the characters do and say
Appearance of characters and setting may be supplied by stage directions
Mental states are to be inferred from the dialogue and action
Scene (wholly scenic)
A character may look out of the window but what he sees is not told directly
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Analysis of characters at the abstract
level of the fabula
Propp, Vladimir. Morphology of the Folktale. Trans.
Laurence Scott (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1968)
Characters in folktales categorized according to roles or
functions
A character
may peform more than one role
Souriau, Étienne. Les deux cent
mille situations dramatiques (Paris: Flammarion, 1950)
Catalogue of dramatic ‘functions’
(Greimas, A.J. Sémantique structurale. 1966; see also Cohan and Shires p. 69- : Bal p. 200- )
“The relationships governing this
basic actantial model are centred on the notion of desire,
which provides the motivation for action at surface level and the
mythical impulse in the deep structure.” (Onega and Landa,
pp.76-7)
Greimas distinguishes between ‘actors’ and ‘actants’. Both can
include objects and abstract concepts.
“The same ‘actant’ can be manifested by more than one ‘acteur’,
and the same ‘acteur’ can be assigned to more than one ‘actant’.”
(Rimmon 35)
Subject vs. Object
Sender vs. Receiver
Helper vs. Opponent (their functions are analogous to the
circumstantial fucntion of adverbs)
In a common love story: He = subject + receiver ; She
= object + sender
In The Quest for the Holy Grail : Hero = subject
; Holy Grail = object ; God = sender ; Mankind
= Receiver
sender — object —> receiver
î
helper — subject <— opponent
Marxist ideology as expressed by a militant : man = subject ; classless society = object ; history = sender ; mankind = receiver ; bourgeois class = opponent ; working class = helper
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Types of novels:
novel | novella | short story | tale | nonfiction novel (‘faction’)
romance | adventure novel
picaresque
science fiction | fantasy | prophecy
horror | Gothic |
detective | mystery | thriller | Newgate | spy
realistic | naturalistic | modernist | postmodernist | nouveau
roman (anti-novel) | magic realism
sentimental
satirical | pastoral | comical | dystopian
historical | roman à clef | pseudohistorical
retrospective | memoir
epistolary
bildungsroman | apprenticeship | coming of age novel
psychological
social | proletarian, working-class | social science fiction
novel of manners
silver fork novel | Hampstead novel
campus, academic
feminine | feminist
colonial | postcolonial
‘blockbuster’ | family saga | ‘sex and shopping’ novel | ‘chick-lit’ | ‘new man’ | ‘lad’ |
cyberfiction | hyperfiction |
fanfiction
graphic |
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A chronology:
1794 Ann
Radcliffe: The Mysteries of Udolpho
W. Godwin: Caleb
Williams
1796 Fanny
Burney: Camilla
M. G. Lewis: The
Monk
1811
Jane Austen: Sense and Sensibility
1813
Jane Austen: Pride and Prejudice
1814 Walter
Scott: Waverley
Jane Austen: Mansfield
Park
1816
Jane Austen: Emma
1817
Mary Shelley: Frankenstein
1818 Walter
Scott: Rob Roy, Heart of Mid-Lothian
Jane Austen: Persuasion, Northanger Abbey
T. Peacock: Nightmare
Abbey
1820
W. Scott: Ivanhoe
1821
T. De Quincey: Confessions of an Opium Eater
1823
W. Scott: Quentin Duward
1836
Charles Dickens: Pickwick Papers
1837
Dickens: Oliver Twist, Nicholas Nickleby (1838)
1840-6
Dickens: Old Curiosity Shop, Barnaby Rudge
(1841), A Christmas Carol (1843), Martin Chuzzlewit
(1844), Dombey and Son (1846)
1847 Charlotte
Brontë: Jane Eyre
Emily Brontë: Wuthering Heights
Anne Brontë: Anne Grey
William Thackeray: Vanity
Fair
1848
Elizabeth Gaskell: Mary Barton
1848
Dickens: David Copperfield
1852-61 Dickens:
Bleak House, Hard Times (1854), Little Dorrit
(1855-7), A Tale of Two Cities (1859), Great
Expectations (1860-1)
1855 E.
Gaskell: North and South
A. Trollope: The
Warden, Barchester Towers (1857)
1859 George
Eliot: Adam Bede
George Meredith: The
Ordeal of Richard Feverel
1860 George
Eliot: The Mill on the Floss
Wilkie Collins: The
Woman in White
1861
George Eliot: Silas Marner
1865
Lewis Carroll: Alice in Wonderland
1868
Wilkie Collins: The Moonstone
1870
Dickens: The Mystery of Edwin Drood
1871
George Eliot: Middlemarch (1871-2)
1872
Lewis Carroll: Through the Looking-Glass
1874
Hardy: Far from the Madding Crowd
1878
Hardy: The Return of the Native
1879 Henry
James: Daisy Miller
George Meredith: The
Egoist
1881
Henry James: Portrait of a Lady
1883
R. L. Stevenson: Treasure Island
1886 Henry
James: The Bostonians
George Moore: A Drama in Muslin
George Gissing: Demos
R. L. Stevenson: Kidnapped,
Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde
1887-
A. Conan Doyle: adventures of Sherlock Holmes
1891 Thomas
Hardy: Tess of the D'Urbervilles
Gissing: New Grub Street
O. Wilde: The
Picture of Dorian Gray
1894
R. Kipling: The Jungle Book
1895 Thomas
Hardy: Jude the Obscure
H. G. Wells: The Time Machine
1897 H. G.
Wells: The Invisible Man
Bram Stoker: Dracula
1898
H. G. Wells: The War of the Worlds
1900
Joseph Conrad: Lord Jim
1901
R. Kipling: Kim
1902 Henry
James: Wings of the Dove
Joseph Conrad: Heart
of Darkness
Oliver Twist : Gutneberg
online text | trad.
José Méndez Herrera (primeras páginas)
Wuthering Heights : online
text | Cumbres
borrascosas excerpts
periods | canon | 21st
century - awards | production
and distribution |
"English
Literature" Britannica
Lists : Modern
Library 100 Best ; BBC Big Read
(wkp) ; Time
100 Novels ; Penguin
"Great Books of the 20th Century" ; Le
Monde 100 ; Times
50 greatest writers 1945- ;
By decades : authors and titles from "English
Literature" Britannica [underline indicates
an EB entry]
H.G. Wells : The Time Machine
(1895), The Island of Dr Moreau (1896), The
Invisible Man (1897), The War of the Worlds (1898),
The First Men in the Moon (1901)
A Modern Utopia
(1905), Ann Veronica (1909), Tono-Bungay
(1909)
John Galsworthy: The Man of Property (1906)
txt
Arnold Bennett : The Old Wives' Tale (1908) html
E. M. Forster : Howards End (1910)
Henry James : The Ambassadors
(1903), The Golden Bowl (1904)
Joseph Conrad : Lord Jim (1900), "Heart of
Darkness" (1902), Nostromo (1904), The
Secret Agent (1907)
D. H. Lawrence : Sons and
Lovers (1913), The Rainbow (1915), Women
in Love (1920)
James Joyce: Dubliners (1914) texts, A
Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (1916) texts,
Wyndham Lewis : Tarr (1918)
Ford Madox Ford : The Good Soldier (1915) texts
Katherine Mansfield, Bliss and
Other Stories (1920)
Dorothy Richardson, Pilgrimage (1915-1967)
Rebecca West, The Return of the Soldier (1918)
Virginia Woolf: "Modern
Fiction" (1919, rev. 1925) html,
Jacob's Room (1922), Mrs Dalloway
(1925), To the Lighthouse (1927), A Room of
One's Own (1929), The Waves (1931)
James Joyce: Ulysses (1922) htm
D. H. Lawrence : Kangaroo (1923), The Plumed
Serpent (1926)
E. M. Forster: A Passage to India (1924)
Ford Madox Ford : Parade's End
(1950; Some Do Not 1924, A Man Could Stand Up
1926; Last Post 1928)
Wyndham Lewis : The Human Age (The Childermass, 1928)
Katherine Mansfield, The Garden
Party (1922)
Jean Rhys
Aldous Huxley : Crome
Yellow (1921), Antic Hay (1923), Point
Counter Point (1928)
Aldous Huxley: Brave New World (1932) txt html , Eyeless in Gaza (1936), ... Brave New World Revisited (1958) ... Island (1962) wkp ; somaweb
George Orwell : A
Clergyman's Daughter (1935) Keep the Aspidistra
Flying (1936), The Road To Wigan Pier
(1937), Homage to Catalonia (1938) ... Animal
Farm (1945) , Ninety Eighty-Four (1949)
Christopher Isherwood, Mr Norris
Changes Trains (1935), Goodbye to Berlin
(1939)
Evelyn Waugh : Vile Bodies
(1930) …
Graham Greene : It's a Battlefield (1934), Brighton
Rock (1938) …
Lewis Grassic Gibbon, A Scots
Quair trilogy
Walter Greenwood, Love on the Dole (1933)
Elizabeth Bowen, Death of the
Heart (1938)
Virginia Woolf: The
Waves (1931), Three Guineas (1938), Between
the Acts (1941)
James Joyce: Finnegans Wake (1939) text from Words site ; ALP from JADA
John Cowper Powys : A Glastonbury
Romance (1932)
George Orwell : Animal Farm (1945) text wiki , Ninety Eighty-Four (1949) text wiki ( "Politics and the English Language" 1946 text wiki )
Evelyn Waugh: Put Out
More Flags (1942), Brideshead Revisited
(1945), Sword of Honour trilogy (1965 ; Men
At Arms 1952, Officers and Gentlemen 1955, Unconditional
Surrender 1961)
Graham Greene : The Power and the Glory (1940), The
Heart of the Matter (1948) txt
, The End of the Affair (1951)
Henry Green: Caught (1943), Concluding
(1948), Nothing (1950)
Ivy Compton-Burnett :
Elizabeth Bowen, The Heat of
the Day (1949)
Elizabeth Taylor, Barbara Pym
Patrick Hamilton
[Malcolm Lowry : Under the Volcano
1947 ]
1950-1960 :
William Golding : Lord of the
Flies (1964), [The Inheritors ]
Iris Murdoch : The Bell (1958),
Kingsley Amis : Lucky Jim (1954)
"Angry Young Men": John Braine, John Wain, Alan Sillitoe, Stan
Barstow, David Storey
Doris Lessing : Children of
Violence (1952-69)
Anthony Powell: A Dance to the
Music (1951-1975)
C. P. Snow : Strangers and Brothers (1940-70)
Malcolm Bradbury : [Eating
People is Wrong 1959]
Samuel Beckett: Molloy (1951),
Watt (1953) Malone Dies (1958), The Unnamable
(1960)
[ Lawrence Durrell: The Alexandria
Quartet (1957-60) ]
[ Chinua Achebe : Things Fall
Apart 1958 ]
1960-1970 :
Muriel Spark : The Prime of
Miss Jean Brodie (1961)
Iris Murdoch : A Severed Head (1961),
Doris Lessing : [The Memoirs of
a Survivor 1975]
Angus Wilson : No Laughing Matter
(1967)
David Lodge: [The British Museum if Falling Down 1965, Out
of the Shelter 1970] …
Paul Scott : Raj Quartet (The
Jewel in the Crown 1966, The Day of the Scorpion
1968, The Towers of Silence 1971, A Division of the
Spoils 1975], [Staying On 1977 Booker]
[ John Fowles, The Collector, The
French Lieutenant's Woman (1969)
[ B. S. Johnson, The Unfortunates (1969)
Patrick O'Brien, Master and
Commander (1969)
1970-1980 :
J.G. Farrell : Troubles
(1970), The Siege of Krishnapur (1973) [Booker], The
Singapore Grip (1978)
Angela Carter : The Bloody Chamber
and Other Stories (1979)
Doris Lessing: Canopus in
Argos — Archives (1979-83)
V. S. Naipaul : [In a Free State
1971 Booke], A Bend in the River (1979)
[Iris Murdoch : The Sea,
the Sea 1978 Booker]
[Nadine Gordimer : The Conservationist 1974 Booker]
Buchi Emecheta
William Trevor
Bernard MacLaverty,
1980-1990 :
Salman Rushdie : Midnight's
Children (1981) [Booker], Shame (1983),
The Satanic Verses (1988), The Moor's Last Sigh
(1995), The Ground Beneath Her Feet (1999)
Julian Barnes : [ Flaubert's Parrot 1984], A History
of the World in 10 1/2 Chapters (1989)
[Angela Carter : Night at the
Circus 1984 ]
Graham Swift : Waterland 1983
David Lodge : Nice Work (1988)
Margaret Drabble : The Radiant Way
(1987)
Martin Amis: Money
(1984)
Kazuo Ishiguro : An Artist of the
Floating World (1986), [The Remains of the Day 1989
Booker ]
Timothy Mo : An Insular Possession (1986)
Barry Unsworth, Pascali's Island
1980, The Rage of the Vulture 1982, Stone Virgin
1985
William Golding: Rites of Passage 1980 [Booker], Close Quarters 1987, Fire Down Below (trilogy as To the Ends of the Earth 1991)
1990-2000 :
Vikram Seth : A Suitable Boy
(1993)
Ben Okri [: The Famished Road
1991 Booker]
A. S. Byatt: Possession (1990)
[Booker]
Adam Thorpe, Ulverton (1992)
Ian McEwan : The Innocent
1990, Black Dogs 1992, [Enduring Love 1997]
Graham Swift : Last Orders
(1996)
[ Angela Carter : Wise Children
1991 ]
[Michael Ondaatje: The English
Patient 1992 Booker]
[ Hanif Kureishi : The Buddha of
Suburbia 1990 ]
[J. M. Coetzee : Disgrace 1999
Booker]
Barry Unsworth, Morality Play
1995
Patrick O'Brien, Blue at the Mizzen (1999)
Beryl Bainbridge: The Birthday Boys (1991), Everyman
for Himself (1996), Master Georgie (1998)
2000-
David Mitchell: Cloud Atlas
(2004)
[Hilary Mantel : Wolf Hall
2009 Booker, Bring Up the Bodies 2012 Booker]
Michel Faber, The Crimson Petal
and the White (2002)
[ Zadie Smith : White Teeth
2000 ]
[Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss 2006 Booker ]
Ian McEwan: Atonement (2001), Saturday (2005)
[ Kazuo Ishiguro: Never Let Me Go
(2005)
[Julian Barnes : The Sense of an
Ending 2011 Booker]
[Margaret Atwood : The Blind
Assassin 2000 Booker]
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| back to 20th and 21st c.
|
( Franklin in Leader ; Awards in
Shaffer
Man Booker Prize : full-length novel in English, “only English-language writers from the United Kingdom, the Republic of Ireland, and the Commonwealth countries were eligible. In 2013, however, it was announced that the prize would be open to English-language writers worldwide from 2014” (EBOA)
“the best-known literary prize in Britain” (Childs 2005, 33)
“Publishers choose the novels in the running for the Booker, whose small management committee includes three publishers, an agent, a librarian, a public relations consultant, and one author (the awarding panel itself has an academic, a critics or two, a writer or two, and a 'celebrity' who, a little paradoxically, represents the 'person in the street')” (Childs 2005, 33)
Whitbread / Costa Book Award . “writers resident in the United Kingdom and Ireland for books published there in the previous year. Established in 1971 and initially sponsored by the British corporation Whitbread PLC, the awards are given annually and are administered by the British Booksellers Association.” (“Costa Book Award” EBOA)
“the richest annual literary award” (Childs 2005, 33)
“the Booker [is] sometimes accused of being middle-brow and populist whereas the Whitbread, perhaps because it is less well-known, cast as a more worthy 'alternative' award” (Childs 2005, 33)
Orange / Baileys Women's Prize : novels written in English by a woman in the previous year. Translations were not eligible, but publishers could submit works by women of all nationalities, provided that the works had been released in the United Kingdom during the previous year.” (“Women's Prize for Fiction” EBOA)
Not the Booker Prize: judged by readers of The Guardian
books blog
In USA:
National Book Critics Circle Award, Pulitzer Prize for Fiction
utopia = "a nonexistent good place"
(Murfin & Ray, Bedford Glossary 529). It
combines both Greek outopia in the senses of "no place"
and eutopia in the sense of "good place"
Some utopias are subtle satires of the society
described (S. Butler, Erewhon (1872))
utopian genre = works of fiction 'which claim truly
to describe a
community posited at some level as ideal' (Bruce xi)
utopia is a critique of dominant ideology, offering its readers an imaginary or fictive solution to the social contradictions of its own time' (Marin, in Bruce xv)
dystopia = "A dystopia is usually set
at some point in the author's future and describes a nightmarish
society in which few would want to live ... alert readers to the
potential pitfalls and dangers of society's present course or of a
course society might conceivably take one day ... [depict]
unpleasant, disastrous, or otherwise terrifying consequences for
the protagonists as well as for humanity as a whole" (Murfin &
Ray, Bedford Glossary 125)
"utopian
literature" EB
Plato, The Republic (c. 360
B.C.) | Thomas More, Utopia (1516) | F. Bacon, The New
Atlantis (1627)
18th c.: Jonathan Swift, Gulliver's
Travels (1726) > films | ( Samuel Johnson, The
History of Rasselas (1759) ) |
19th c.: Samuel Butler, Erewhon (1872) | Edward
Bellamy, Looking Backward: 2000- 1887 (1888) | H.
G. Wells The Time Machine (1895) > films 1960,
2002
20th c.:
H. G. Wells, The First Men in the Moon (1901) > films
1919, 1964, TV 2010; A Modern Utopia (1905) | G. K.
Chesterton, The Napoleon of Notting Hill (1905) | J. London,
The Iron Heel (1908) | E. M. Forster, "The Machine Stops"
(1909) | [F. Kafka, The Trial (1925) > film (1962, O.
Welles), film Kafka (1991, S. Soderbergh) ]
film: Metropolis (1927, Germany) > manga Metropolis (1949, Japan) > anime film Metropolis (2001, Japan)
A. Huxley, Brave New World
(1932) html
> films 1980, 1998; Island (1962) html
|
| J. Hilton, Lost Horizon (1933 ) > film
| Sinclair Lewis, It Can't Happen Here (1935) |
Ayn Rand, "Anthem" (1937) | C. S. Lewis, Out of the
Silent Planet (1938), Perelandra (1943), That
Hideous Strength (1945) | V. Nabokov, Invitation to a
Beheading (1938, Russian; 1959, English), Bend Sinister
(1947)
G. Orwell, Animal Farm
(1945) > film ; 1984 (1949) > film s
K. Vonnegut, Player Piano
(1952); "Harrison Bergeron" (1961) > film 2081 |
E. Waugh, Love Among the Ruins (1953) | R. Bradbury,
Farenheit 451 (1953) > film | W. Golding, Lord of
the Flies (1954) > films | A. C. Clark, The
City and the Stars (1956) | |
Philip. K. Dick, "The Defenders" (1953); "Minority Report"
(1956) film, The Penultimate Truth (1964);
"We Can Remember It for You Wholesale" (1966) > film Total
Recall 1990, 2012 | Do Androids Sleep of Electric
Sheep? (1968) > film Blade Runner (1982); A
Scanner Darkly (1977) > film (2006)
| A. Wilson, The Old Men at the Zoo (1961) | A. Burgess, A
Clockwork Orange (1962) > film | W. F. Nolan
and G. C. Johnson, Logan's Run (1967) >
film | J. G. Ballard, Crash (1973) > film ; High
Rise (1975) | Ursula K. Le Guin, The
Dispossessed (1974) html
| S. King, The Long Walk (1979); The
Running Man (1982) > film 1985
D. Lessing, The Memoirs of a Survivor (1975)
A. Gray, Lanark (1981) | M.
Atwood The Handmaid's Tale (1985) crossref-it
> film 1990 | A. Moore and D. Lloyd, V for Vendetta
(1988-1989) > film | P. D: James, The Children of Men
(1992) > film (2006, A. Cuarón)
film: Planet of the Apes (1968) based on French novel by P. Boulle | Sleeper (1973, W. Allen) | Rollerball (1975, N. Jewison) | Brazil (1985, T. Gilliam) | RoboCop (1987, P. Verhoeven) | The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover (1989, P. Greenaway) | Demolition Man (1993) | 12 Monkeys (1995, T: Gilliam) | Gattaca (1997) | L. and A. Wachowski, The Matrix (1999), The Matrix Reloaded (2003), The Matrix Revolutions (2003)
comics: 2000 AD (1977- ) | F. Miller, Sin City (1991 - 2000) > film 2005 |
21st c. :
M. Atwood, Oryx and Crake (2003), The Year of the
Flood (2009), MaddAdam (2013) | D. Michetll, Cloud
Atlas (2004) > film (2012, L. and A. Wachowski)|
K. Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go (2005) > film | S. Collins,
The Hunger Games (2008) > film |
film: Revenger's Tragedy (2002) | The Island (2005) | Idiocracy (2006, M. Judge) | Electric City (2012- ) web, | Elysium (2013, N. Blomkamp) | RoboCop (2014, J. Padilha) |
back to top
|
= story of the growth of the
protagonist from adolescence (or childhood) to maturity
Bildungsroman = [novel of formation] "a novel that recounts
the development (psychological and sometimes spiritual) of an
individual from childhood or adolescence to maturity, to the point
that the protagonist recognizes
his or her place and role in the world" (Murfin & Ray, Bedford
Glossary 39)
(underline indicates American
author ; square brackets [ ] enfolds non-Anglophone work)
16th c. : [Lazarillo de Tormes
(1554)]
18th c.: Laurence Sterne, Tristram Shandy (1759) [Candide
by Voltaire (1759), Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship
by Goethe (1796) ]
19th c. : Charles Dickens, David Copperfield (1850), Great
Expectations (1861); Henry James, What Maisie Knew
(1897);
Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
(1884)
20th c. : D. H. Lawrence, Sons and Lovers (1913); Somerset
Maugham Of Human Bondage (1915) ; A Portrait of the
Artist as a Young Man (1916) texts ;
J. D. Salinger, The Catcher
in the Rye (1951); Ralph Ellison Invisible Man
(1952); Harper Lee, To Kill a Mocking Bird (1960)
George Orwell, Keep the Aspidistra Flying
(1936)
Jeanette Winterson's Oranges Are not the Only Fruit
(1985); Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood (1987); Peter
Ackoryd, English Music (1992); Irvine Welsh, Trainspotting
(1993);
21st c.: Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let
Me Go (2005); David Mitchell, Black Swan Green
(2006)
Film: American Graffiti (1973),
Other genres: Marvel comic Spider-Man
(1962-)
Tom Jones | Great Expectations
| Sons and Lovers
| "Hills like White Elephants"
| Heart of the Matter | Midnight's Children
|
Chapter ii.
A short description of squire Allworthy, and a fuller account of
Miss
Bridget Allworthy, his sister.
In that part of the western division of this kingdom which is
commonly
called Somersetshire, there lately lived, and perhaps lives still,
a
gentleman whose name was Allworthy, and who might well be called
the
favourite of both nature and fortune; for both of these seem to
have
contended which should bless and enrich him most. In this
contention,
nature may seem to some to have come off victorious, as she
bestowed
on him many gifts, while fortune had only one gift in her power;
but
in pouring forth this, she was so very profuse, that others
perhaps
may think this single endowment to have been more than equivalent
to
all the various blessings which he enjoyed from nature. From the
former of these, he derived an agreeable person, a sound
constitution,
a solid understanding, and a benevolent heart; by the latter, he
was
decreed to the inheritance of one of the largest estates in the
county.
This gentleman had in his youth married a very worthy and
beautiful
woman, of whom he had been extremely fond: by her he had three
children, all of whom died in their infancy. He had likewise had
the
misfortune of burying this beloved wife herself, about five years
before the time in which this history chuses to set out. This
loss,
however great, he bore like a man of sense and constancy, though
it
must be confest he would often talk a little whimsically on this
head;
for he sometimes said he looked on himself as still married, and
considered his wife as only gone a little before him, a journey
which
he should most certainly, sooner or later, take after her; and
that he
had not the least doubt of meeting her again in a place where he
should never part with her more--sentiments for which his sense
was
arraigned by one part of his neighbours, his religion by a second,
and
his sincerity by a third.
He now lived, for the most part, retired in the country, with one
sister, for whom he had a very tender affection. This lady was now
somewhat past the age of thirty, an aera at which, in the opinion
of
the malicious, the title of old maid may with no impropriety be
assumed. She was of that species of women whom you commend rather
for
good qualities than beauty, and who are generally called, by their
own
sex, very good sort of women--as good a sort of woman, madam, as
you
would wish to know. Indeed, she was so far from regretting want of
beauty, that she never mentioned that perfection, if it can be
called
one, without contempt; and would often thank God she was not as
handsome as Miss Such-a-one, whom perhaps beauty had led into
errors
which she might have otherwise avoided. Miss Bridget Allworthy
(for
that was the name of this lady) very rightly conceived the charms
of
person in a woman to be no better than snares for herself, as well
as
for others; and yet so discreet was she in her conduct, that her
prudence was as much on the guard as if she had all the snares to
apprehend which were ever laid for her whole sex. Indeed, I have
observed, though it may seem unaccountable to the reader, that
this
guard of prudence, like the trained bands, is always readiest to
go on
duty where there is the least danger. It often basely and cowardly
deserts those paragons for whom the men are all wishing, sighing,
dying, and spreading, every net in their power; and constantly
attends
at the heels of that higher order of women for whom the other sex
have
a more distant and awful respect, and whom (from despair, I
suppose,
of success) they never venture to attack.
Reader, I think proper, before we proceed any farther together, to
acquaint thee that I intend to digress, through this whole
history, as
often as I see occasion, of which I am myself a better judge than
any
pitiful critic whatever; and here I must desire all those critics
to
mind their own business, and not to intermeddle with affairs or
works
which no ways concern them; for till they produce the authority by
which they are constituted judges, I shall not plead to their
jurisdiction.
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|
[Project Gutenberg]
Chapter I
My father's family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name
Philip, my
infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more
explicit
than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip.
I give Pirrip as my father's family name, on the authority of his
tombstone and my sister,--Mrs. Joe Gargery, who married the
blacksmith.
As I never saw my father or my mother, and never saw any likeness
of either of them (for their days were long before the days of
photographs), my first fancies regarding what they were like were
unreasonably derived from their tombstones. The shape of the
letters on
my father's, gave me an odd idea that he was a square, stout, dark
man,
with curly black hair. From the character and turn of the
inscription,
"Also Georgiana Wife of the Above," I drew a childish conclusion
that
my mother was freckled and sickly. To five little stone lozenges,
each
about a foot and a half long, which were arranged in a neat row
beside
their grave, and were sacred to the memory of five little brothers
of
mine,--who gave up trying to get a living, exceedingly early in
that universal struggle,--I am indebted for a belief I religiously
entertained that they had all been born on their backs with their
hands
in their trousers-pockets, and had never taken them out in this
state of
existence.
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|
=================
[Text from Project Gutenberg]
PART ONE
CHAPTER I
THE EARLY MARRIED LIFE OF THE MORELS
"THE BOTTOMS" succeeded to "Hell Row". Hell Row was a block of
thatched,
bulging cottages that stood by the brookside on Greenhill Lane.
There
lived the colliers who worked in the little gin-pits two fields
away.
The brook ran under the alder trees, scarcely soiled by these
small
mines, whose coal was drawn to the surface by donkeys that plodded
wearily in a circle round a gin. And all over the countryside were
these
same pits, some of which had been worked in the time of Charles
II, the
few colliers and the donkeys burrowing down like ants into the
earth,
making queer mounds and little black places among the corn-fields
and
the meadows. And the cottages of these coal-miners, in blocks and
pairs
here and there, together with odd farms and homes of the
stockingers,
straying over the parish, formed the village of Bestwood.
Then, some sixty years ago, a sudden change took place, gin-pits
were
elbowed aside by the large mines of the financiers. The coal and
iron
field of Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire was discovered. Carston,
Waite
and Co. appeared. Amid tremendous excitement, Lord Palmerston
formally
opened the company's first mine at Spinney Park, on the edge of
Sherwood
Forest.
About this time the notorious Hell Row, which through growing old
had
acquired an evil reputation, was burned down, and much dirt was
cleansed
away.
[...]
To accommodate the regiments of
miners, Carston, Waite and Co. built the
Squares, great quadrangles of dwellings on the hillside of
Bestwood,
and then, in the brook valley, on the site of Hell Row, they
erected the
Bottoms.
The Bottoms consisted of six blocks of miners' dwellings, two rows
of three, like the dots on a blank-six domino, and twelve houses
in a
block. This double row of dwellings sat at the foot of the rather
sharp
slope from Bestwood, and looked out, from the attic windows at
least, on
the slow climb of the valley towards Selby.
The houses themselves were substantial and very decent. One could
walk
all round, seeing little front gardens with auriculas and
saxifrage in
the shadow of the bottom block, sweet-williams and pinks in the
sunny
top block; seeing neat front windows, little porches, little
privet
hedges, and dormer windows for the attics. But that was outside;
that
was the view on to the uninhabited parlours of all the colliers'
wives.
The dwelling-room, the kitchen, was at the back of the house,
facing
inward between the blocks, looking at a scrubby back garden, and
then at
the ash-pits. And between the rows, between the long lines of
ash-pits,
went the alley, where the children played and the women gossiped
and the
men smoked. So, the actual conditions of living in the Bottoms,
that
was so well built and that looked so nice, were quite unsavoury
because
people must live in the kitchen, and the kitchens opened on to
that
nasty alley of ash-pits.
Mrs. Morel was not anxious to move into the Bottoms, which was
already
twelve years old and on the downward path, when she descended to
it from
Bestwood. But it was the best she could do. Moreover, she had an
end
house in one of the top blocks, and thus had only one neighbour;
on
the other side an extra strip of garden. And, having an end house,
she
enjoyed a kind of aristocracy among the other women of the
"between"
houses, because her rent was five shillings and sixpence instead
of
five shillings a week. But this superiority in station was not
much
consolation to Mrs. Morel.
She was thirty-one years old, and had been married eight years. A
rather
small woman, of delicate mould but resolute bearing, she shrank a
little
from the first contact with the Bottoms women. She came down in
the
July, and in the September expected her third baby.
[...]
PART II
CHAPTER XI
THE TEST ON MIRIAM
[...]
Frequently he hated Miriam. He hated her as she bent forward and
pored
over his things. He hated her way of patiently casting him up, as
if he
were an endless psychological account. When he was with her, he
hated
her for having got him, and yet not got him, and he tortured her.
She
took all and gave nothing, he said. At least, she gave no living
warmth.
She was never alive, and giving off life. Looking for her was like
looking for something which did not exist. She was only his
conscience,
not his mate. He hated her violently, and was more cruel to her.
They
dragged on till the next summer. He saw more and more of Clara.
At last he spoke. He had been sitting working at home one evening.
There
was between him and his mother a peculiar condition of people
frankly
finding fault with each other. Mrs. Morel was strong on her feet
again.
He was not going to stick to Miriam. Very well; then she would
stand
aloof till he said something. It had been coming a long time, this
bursting of the storm in him, when he would come back to her. This
evening there was between them a peculiar condition of suspense.
He worked feverishly and mechanically, so that he could escape
from
himself. It grew late. Through the open door, stealthily, came the
scent
of madonna lilies, almost as if it were prowling abroad. Suddenly
he got
up and went out of doors.
The beauty of the night made him want to shout. A half-moon, dusky
gold,
was sinking behind the black sycamore at the end of the garden,
making
the sky dull purple with its glow. Nearer, a dim white fence of
lilies
went across the garden, and the air all round seemed to stir with
scent,
as if it were alive. He went across the bed of pinks, whose keen
perfume
came sharply across the rocking, heavy scent of the lilies, and
stood
alongside the white barrier of flowers. They flagged all loose, as
if
they were panting. The scent made him drunk. He went down to the
field
to watch the moon sink under.
A corncrake in the hay-close called insistently. The moon slid
quite
quickly downwards, growing more flushed. Behind him the great
flowers
leaned as if they were calling. And then, like a shock, he caught
another perfume, something raw and coarse. Hunting round, he found
the purple iris, touched their fleshy throats and their dark,
grasping
hands. At any rate, he had found something. They stood stiff in
the
darkness. Their scent was brutal. The moon was melting down upon
the
crest of the hill. It was gone; all was dark. The corncrake called
still.
Breaking off a pink, he suddenly went indoors.
"Come, my boy," said his mother. "I'm sure it's time you went to
bed."
He stood with the pink against his lips.
"I shall break off with Miriam, mother," he answered calmly.
She looked up at him over her spectacles. He was staring back at
her,
unswerving. She met his eyes for a moment, then took off her
glasses. He
was white. The male was up in him, dominant. She did not want to
see him
too clearly.
"But I thought--" she began.
"Well," he answered, "I don't love her. I don't want to marry
her--so I
shall have done."
"But," exclaimed his mother, amazed, "I thought lately you had
made up
your mind to have her, and so I said nothing."
"I had--I wanted to--but now I don't want. It's no good. I shall
break
off on Sunday. I ought to, oughtn't I?"
"You know best. You know I said so long ago."
"I can't help that now. I shall break off on Sunday."
"Well," said his mother, "I think it will be best. But lately I
decided
you had made up your mind to have her, so I said nothing, and
should
have said nothing. But I say as I have always said, I DON'T think
she is
suited to you."
"On Sunday I break off," he said, smelling the pink. He put the
flower
in his mouth. Unthinking, he bared his teeth, closed them on the
blossom
slowly, and had a mouthful of petals. These he spat into the fire,
kissed his mother, and went to bed.
On Sunday he went up to the farm in the early afternoon. He had
written
Miriam that they would walk over the fields to Hucknall. His
mother was
very tender with him. He said nothing. But she saw the effort it
was
costing. The peculiar set look on his face stilled her.
"Never mind, my son," she said. "You will be so much better when
it is
all over."
Paul glanced swiftly at his mother in surprise and resentment. He
did
not want sympathy.
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|
=================
The hills across the valley of the Ebro were long and white. On
this siode there was no shade and no trees and the station was
between two lines of rails in the sun. Close against the side of
the station there was the warm shadow of the building and a
curtain, made of strings of bamboo beads, hung across the open
door into the bar, to keep out flies. The American and the girl
with him sat at a table in the shade, outside the building. It was
very hot and the express from Barcelona would come in forty
minutes. It stopped at this junction for two minutes and went to
Madrid.
'What should we drink?' the
girl asked. She had taken off her hat and put it on the table.
'It's pretty hot,' the man
said.
'Let's drink beer.'
'Dos cervezas,' the man said
into the curtain.
'Big ones?' a woman asked
from the doorway.
'Yes. Two big ones.'
The woman brought two glasses
of beer and two felt pads. She put the felt pads and the beer
glass on the table and looked at the man and the girl. The girl
was looking off at the line of hills. They were white in the sun
and the country was brown and dry.
'They look like white
elephants,' she said.
'I've never seen one,' the
man drank his beer.
'No, you wouldn't have.'
'I might have,' the man said.
'Just because you say I wouldn't have doesn't prove anything.'
The girl looked at the bead
curtain. 'They've painted something on it,' she said. 'What does
it say?'
'Anis del Toro. It's a
drink.'
'Could we try it?'
The man called 'Listen'
through the curtain. The woman came out from the bar.
'Four reales.' 'We want two
Anis del Toro.'
'With water?'
'Do you want it with water?'
'I don't know,' the girl
said. 'Is it good with water?'
'It's all right.'
'You want them with water?'
asked the woman.
'Yes, with water.'
'It tastes like liquorice,'
the girl said and put the glass down.
'That's the way with
everything.'
'Yes,' said the girl.
'Everything tastes of liquorice. Especially all the things you've
waited so long for, like absinthe.'
'Oh, cut it out.'
'You started it,' the girl
said. 'I was being amused. I was having a fine time.'
'Well, let's try and have a
fine time.'
'All right. I was trying. I
said the mountains looked like white elephants. Wasn't that
bright?'
'That was bright.'
'I wanted to try this new
drink. That's all we do, isn't it - look at things and try new
drinks?'
'I guess so.'
The girl looked across at the
hills.
===============
... [32]
"I know these poor devils can't get rice at the controlled price/' "I've heard, Major Scobie, that they can't get their share of the free distribution unless they tip the policemen at the gate." It was quite true. There was a retort in this colony to every accusation. There was always a blacker corruption elsewhere to be pointed at. The scandalmongers of the Secretariat fulfilled a useful purpose they kept alive the idea that no one was to be trusted. That was better than complacence. Why, he wondered, swerving the car to avoid a dead pye-dog, do I love this place so much? Is it because here human nature hasn't had time to disguise itself? No- body here could ever talk about a heaven on earth. Heaven remained rigidly in its proper place on the other side of death, and on this side flourished the injustices, the cru- elties, the meannesses, that elsewhere people so cleverly hushed up. Here you could love human beings nearly as God loved them, knowing the worst: you didn't love a pose, a pretty dress, a sentiment artfully assumed. He felt a sudden affection for Yusef. He said, "Two wrongs don't make a right. One day, Yusef, you'll find my foot under your fat arse."
...
[187]
"Going out?" Harris asked with surprise. "Where to?" "Just into town/' Wilson said, loosening the knot round his mosquito boots. "What on earth can you find to do in town at this hour?" "Business," Wilson said. Well, he thought, it was business of a kind, the kind of joyless business one did alone, without friends. He had bought a second-hand car a few weeks ago, the first he had ever owned, and he was not yet a very reliable driver. No gadget survived the climate long and every few hundred yards he had to wipe the windscreen with his handkerchief. In Kru Town the hut doors were open and families sat around the kerosene lamps waiting till it was cool enough to sleep. A dead pye-dog lay in the gutter with the rain running over its white swollen belly.
...
[199]
"I'm sorry. I can't wait/' Wilson said. "Here's ten bob," and he made the preliminary motions of departure, but the old woman paid him no attention at all, blocking the way, smiling steadily like a dentist who knows what's good for you. Here a man's colour had no value: he couldn't bluster as a white man could elsewhere: by entering this narrow plaster passage he had shed every racial, social, and individual trait, he had reduced himself to human nature. If he had wanted to hide, here was the perfect hiding place: if he had wanted to be anonymous, here he was simply a man. Even his reluctance, disgust, and fear were not per- sonal characteristics: they were so common to those who came here for the first time that the old woman knew exactly what each move would be. First the suggestion of a drink, then the offer of money, after that . . .
...
==========
Book One
The perforated sheet
I was born in the city of Bombay… once upon a time. No, that won't do, there's no getting away from the date: I was born in Doctor Narlikar's Nursing Home on August 15th, 1947. And the time? The time matters, too. Well then: at night. No, it's important to be more… On the stroke of midnight, as a matter of fact. Clock-hands joined palms in respectful greeting as I came. Oh, spell it out, spell it out: at the precise instant of India's arrival at independence, I tumbled forth into the world. There were gasps. And, outside the window, fireworks and crowds. A few seconds later, my father broke his big toe; but Ms accident was a mere trifle when set beside what had befallen me in that benighted moment, because thanks to the occult tyrannies of those blandly saluting clocks I had been mysteriously handcuffed to history, my destinies indissolubly chained to
those of my country. For the
next
three decades, there was to
be no escape. Soothsayers had prophesied me, newspapers celebrated my arrival, politicos ratified my authenticity. I was left entirely without a say in the matter. I, Saleem Sinai, later variously called Snotnose, Stainface, Baldy, Sniffer, Buddha and even Piece-of-the-Moon, had become heavily embroiled in Fate-at the best of times a dangerous sort of involvement. And I couldn't even wipe my own nose at the time.
Now, however, time (having no further use for me) is running out. I will soon be thirty-one years old. Perhaps. If my crumbling, over-used body permits. But I have no hope of saving my life, nor can I count on having even a thousand nights and a night. I must work fast, faster than Scheherazade, if I am to end up meaning-yes, meaning-something. I admit it: above all things, I fear absurdity.
And there are so many stories to tell,-too many, such an excess of intertwined lives events miracles
places rumours, so dense a commingling of the improbable and the mundane! I have been a swallower of lives; and to know me, just the one of me, you'll have to swallow the lot as well. Consumed multitudes are jostling and shoving inside me; and guided only by the memory of a large white bedsheet with a roughly circular hole some seven inches in diameter cut into the centre, clutching at the
dream of that holey, mutilated square of linen, which is
my talisman, my open-sesame, I must commence the business of remaking my life from the point at which it really began, some thirty-two years before anything as obvious, as present, as my clock-ridden, crime-stained birth.
(The sheet, incidentally, is stained too, with three drops of old, faded redness. As the Quran tells us: Recite, in the name of the Lord thy Creator, who created Man from clots of blood.)
...
Mercurochrome
Padma-our plump Padma-is sulking magnificently. (She can't read and, like all fish-lovers, dislikes other people knowing anything she doesn't. Padma: strong, jolly, a
consolation for my last days. But definitely a bitch-in-the-manger.) She attempts to cajole me from my desk: 'Eat, na, food is spoiling.' I remain stubbornly hunched over paper. 'But what is so precious,' Padma demands, her right hand slicing the air updownup in exasperation, 'to need all this writing-shiting?' I reply: now that I've let out the details of my birth, now that the perforated sheet stands between doctor and patient, there's no going back. Padma snorts. Wrist smacks against forehead. 'Okay, starve starve, who cares two pice?' Another louder, conclusive
snort… but I take no exception to her attitude. She stirs a bubbling vat all day for a living; something hot and vinegary has steamed her up tonight. Thick of waist, somewhat hairy of forearm, she flounces, gesticulates, exits. Poor Padma. Things are always getting her goat. Perhaps even her name: understandably enough, since her mother told her, when she was only small, that she had been named after the lotus goddess, whose most common appellation amongst village folk is 'The One Who Possesses Dung'.
In the renewed silence, I return to sheets of paper which smell just a little of turmeric, ready and willing to put out of its misery a narrative which I left yesterday hanging in mid-air-just as Scheherazade, depending for her very survival on leaving Prince Shahryar eaten up by curiosity, used to do night after night! I'll begin at once: by revealing that my grandfather's premonitions in the corridor were not without foundation. In the succeeding months and years, he fell under what I can only describe as the sorcerer's spell of that enormous-and as yet unstained-perforated cloth.
I have been interrupted by Padma, who brought me my dinner and then withheld it, blackmailing me:
'So if you're going to spend all your time wrecking your eyes with that scribbling, at least you must read it to
Dung, that fertilizes and causes the crops to grow! Dung, which is patted into thin chapati-like cakes when still fresh and moist, and is sold to the village builders, who use it to secure and strengthen the walls of kachcha buildings made of mud! Dung, whose arrival from the nether end of cattle goes a long way towards explaining their divine and sacred status! Oh, yes, I was wrong, I admit I was prejudiced, no doubt because its unfortunate odours do have a way of offending my sensitive nose-how wonderful, how ineffably lovely it must be to be named for the Purveyor of Dung!
… A compound can be anything from a wasteland to a park. The largest compound in Amritsar is called Jallianwala Bagh. It is not grassy. Stones cans glass and other things are everywhere. To get into it, you must walk down a very narrow alleyway between two buildings. On April 13th, many thousands of Indians are crowding through this alleyway. 'It is peaceful protest,' someone tells Doctor Aziz. Swept along by the crowds, he arrives at the mouth of the alley. A bag from Heidelberg is in his right hand. (No close-up is necessary.) He is, I know, feeling very scared, because his nose is itching worse than it ever has; but he is a trained doctor, he puts it out of his mind, he enters the compound. Somebody is making a passionate speech. Hawkers move through the crowd selling channa and sweetmeats. The air is filled with dust. There do not seem to be any goondas, any trouble– makers, as far as my grandfather can see. A group of Sikhs has spread a cloth on the ground and is eating, seated around it. There is still a smell of ordure in the air. Aziz penetrates the heart of the crowd, as Brigadier R. Е. Dyer arrives at the entrance to the alleyway, followed by fifty crack troops. He is the Martial Law Commander of Amritsar-an important man, after all; the waxed tips of his moustache are rigid with importance. As the fifty-one men march down the alleyway a tickle replaces the itch in my grandfather's nose. The fifty-one men enter the compound and take up positions, twenty-five to Dyer's right and twenty-five to his left; and Aadam Aziz ceases to concentrate on the events around him as the tickle mounts to unbearable intensities. As Brigadier Dyer issues a command the sneeze hits my grandfather full in the face. 'Yaaaakh-thоооо!' he sneezes and falls forward, losing his balance, following his nose and thereby saving his life. His 'doctori-attache' flies open; bottles, liniment and syringes scatter in the dust. He is scrabbling furiously at people's feet, trying to save his equipment before it is crushed. There is a noise like teeth chattering in winter and someone falls on him. Red stuffstains his shirt. There are screams now and sobs and the strange chattering continues. More and more people seem to have stumbled and fallen on top of my grandfather. He becomes afraid for his back. The clasp of his bag is digging into his chest, inflicting upon it a bruise so severe and mysterious that it will not fade until after his death, years later, on the hill of Sankara Acharya or Takht-e-Sulaiman. His nose is jammed against a bottle of red pills. The chattering stops and is replaced by the noises of people and birds. There seems to be no traffic noise whatsoever. Brigadier Dyer's fifty men put down their machine-guns and go away. They have fired a total of one thousand six hundred and fifty rounds into the unarmed crowd. Of these, one thousand five hundred and sixteen have found their mark, killing or wounding some person. 'Good shooting,' Dyer tells his men, 'We have done a jolly good thing.'
When my grandfather got home that night, my grandmother was trying hard to be a modern woman, to please him, and so she did not turn a hair at his appearance. 'I see you've been spilling the Mercurochrome again, clumsy,' she said, appeasingly.
'It's blood,' he replied, and she fainted. When he brought her round with the help of a little sal volatile, she said, 'Are you hurt?'
'No,' he said.
'But where have you been, my God?'
'Nowhere on earth,' he said, and began to shake in her arms.
My own hand, I confess, has begun to wobble; not entirely because of its theme, but because I have noticed a thin crack, like a hair, appearing in my wrist, beneath the skin… No matter. We all owe death a life. So let me conclude with the uncorroborated rumour that the boatman Tai, who recovered from his scrofulous infection soon after my grandfather left Kashmir, did not die until 1947, when (the story goes) he was infuriated by India and Pakistan's struggle over his valley, and walked to Chhamb with the express purpose of standing between the opposing forces and giving them a piece of his mind. Kashmiri for the Kashmiris: that was his line. Naturally, they shot him. Oskar Lubin would probably have approved of his rhetorical gesture; R. E. Dyer might have commended his murderers' rifle skills. I must go to bed. Padma is waiting; and I need a little warmth.
Hit-the-spittoon
Please believe that I am falling apart.
I am not speaking metaphorically; nor is this the opening gambit of some melodramatic, riddling, grubby appeal for pity. I mean quite simply that I have begun to crack all over like an old jug-that my poor body, singular, unlovely, buffeted by too much history, subjected to drainage above and drainage below, mutilated by doors, brained by spittoons, has started coming apart at the seams. In short, I am literally disintegrating, slowly for the moment, although there are signs of acceleration. I ask you only to accept (as I
have accepted) that I shall eventually crumble into (approximately) six hundred and thirty million particles of anonymous, and necessarily oblivious dust. This is why I have resolved to confide in paper, before I forget. (We are a nation of forgetters.)
...
Many-headed monsters
[...]And
my
mother's face, rabbit-startled, watching the prophet in the check shirt as he began to circle, his eyes still egg-like in the softness of his face; and suddenly a shudder passing through him and again that strange high voice as the words issued through his lips (I must describe those lips, too-but later, because now…) 'A son.'
Silent cousins-monkeys on leashes, ceasing their chatter-cobras coiled in baskets-and the circling fortune-teller, finding history speaking through his lips. (Was that how?) Beginning, 'A son… such a son!' And then it comes, 'A son, Sahiba, who will never be older than his motherland-neither older nor younger.' And now, real fear amongst snake-charmer mongoose-dancer bone-setter and peepshow-wallah, because they have never heard Ramram like this, as he continues, singsong, high-pitched: 'There will be two heads-but you shall see only one-there will be knees and a nose, a nose and knees.' Nose and knees and knees and nose… listen carefully, Padma; the fellow got nothing wrong! 'Newspaper praises him, two mothers raise him! Bicyclists love him-but, crowds will shove him! Sisters will weep; cobra will creep…' Ramram, circling fasterfaster, while four cousins murmur, 'What is this, baba?' and, 'Deo, Shiva, guard us!' While Ramram, 'Washing will hide him-voices will guide him! Friends mutilate him-blood will betray him!' And Amina Sinai, 'What does he
mean? I
don't understand-Lifafa Das-what has got into him?' But, inexorably, whirling egg-eyed around her statue-still presence, goes Ramram Seth: 'Spittoons will brain him-doctors will drain him-jungle will claim him-wizards reclaim him! Soldiers will try him-tyrants will fry him…' While Amina begs for explanations and the cousins fall into a hand-flapping frenzy of helpless alarm
because something has taken over and nobody dares touch Ramram Seth as he whirls to his climax: 'He will have sons without having sons! He will be old before he is old! And he will die… before he is dead.'
Is that how it was? Is that when Ramram Seth, annihilated by the sage through him of a power greater than his own, fell suddenly to the floor and frothed at the mouth? Was mongoose-man's stick inserted between his twitching teeth? Did Lafafa Das say, 'Begum Sahiba you must leave, please: our cousinji has become sick'?
And finally the cobra-wallah-or monkey-man, or bone-setter, or even Lifafa Das of the peepshow on wheels-saying, 'Too much prophecy, man. Our Ramram made too much damn prophecy tonight.'
Many years later, at the time of her premature dotage, when all k'nds of ghosts welled out of her past to dance before her eyes, my mother saw once again the peepshow man whom she saved by announcing my coming and who repaid her by leading her to too much prophecy, and spoke to him evenly, without rancour.
'So you're back ' she said, 'Well, let me tell you this: I wish I'd understood what your cousinji meant-about
blood, about knees and nose. Because who knows? I might have had a different son.'
...
Love
in Bombay
'Get out!'
screams Evie Burns. Hands lifted to forehead. I bicycling, wet-eyed,
diving ininin: to where Evie stands in the doorway of a clapboard bedroom holding
a, holding a something sharp and glinty with red dripping off it, in the doorway of a,
my God and on the bed a woman, who, in a pink, my God, and Evie with the,
and red staining the pink, and a man coming, my God, and no no no no no…
'get out get out get out!'
Bewildered children watch as Evie screams, language march
forgotten, but suddenly remembered again, because Evie has grabbed the back of
the Monkey's bike what're
YOU DOING EVIE as she pushes
it THERE GET OUT YA BUM THERE get out to hell! -
She's pushed me hard-as-hard,
and
I losing control hurtling down the slope round the end of the U-bend downdown, my god the march past
Band Box laundry, past Noor Ville
and Laxmi Vilas, aaaaa
and down into the mouth of the march, heads feet bodies, the waves of the
march parting as I arrive, yelling blue murder, crashing into history on a
runaway, young-girl's bike.
Hands grabbing
handlebars as I slow down in the impassioned throng. Smiles filled with
good teeth surround me. They are not friendly smiles. 'Look look, a little
laad-sahib comes down to join us from the big rich hill!' In Marathi which I hardly
understand, it's my worst subject at school, and the smiles asking, 'You want to join
S.M.S., little princeling?' And I, just about knowing what's being said, but
dazed into telling the truth, shake my head No. And the smiles,
'Oho! The
young nawab does not like our tongue! What does he like?' And another smile, 'Maybe
Gujarati! You speak Gujarati, my lord?' But my Gujarati was as bad as my
Marathi; I only knew one thing in the marshy tongue of Kathiawar; and the
smiles, urging, and the fingers, prodding, 'Speak, little master! Speak some
Gujarati!'-so I told them what I knew, a rhyme I'd learned from Glandy Keith
Colaco at school, which he used when he was bullying Gujarati boys, a
rhyme designed to make fun of the speech rhythms of the language:
Soo che? Saru
che!
Danda le ke
maru che!
How
are
you?-I am well!-ГII take a stick and thrash you to hell! A nonsense; a nothing;
nine words of emptiness… but when I'd retited them, the smiles began to laugh;
and then voices near me and then further and further away began to take up my
chant, how are you? I am
well!, and they lost interest in me, 'Go go with your
bicycle, masterji,' they scoffed, i'll take a stick and thrash
you то hell,
I fled away up the hillock as my chant rushed forward and back,
up to the front .and
down to the back of the two-day-long procession, becoming, as it
went, a song of war.
That
afternoon, the head of the procession of the Samyukta Maharashtra Samiti
collided at Kemp's Corner, with the head of a Maha Gujarat Parishad demonstration;
S.M.S. voices chanted 'Soo che? Saru che!' and M.G.P. throats were opened in
fury; under the posters of the Air-India rajah and of the Kolynos Kid, the two
parties fell upon one another with no little zeal, and to the
tune of my little
rhyme the first of the language riots got under way, fifteen
killed, over three
hundred wounded.
In this way I
became directly responsible for triggering off the violence which ended with
the partition of the state of Bombay, as a result of which the city became the
capital of Maharashtra-so at least I was on the winning side.
...
At the Pioneer Cafe
Matter of fact descriptions of the outre and bizarre, and their reverse, namely heightened, stylized versions of
the
everyday-these techniques, which are also attitudes of mind, I
have lifted-or perhaps absorbed-from the most formidable of the midnight children, my rival, my fellow-changeling, the supposed son of Wee Willie Winkie: Shiva-of-the-knees. They were techniques which, in his case, were applied entirely without conscious thought, and their effect was to create a
picture of
the
world of startling uniformity, in which one could mention casually, in passing as it were, the dreadful murders of prostitutes which began to fill the gutter-press in those days (while the bodies filled the gutters), while lingering passionately on the intricate details of a particular hand of cards. Death, and defeat at rummy were all of a piece to Shiva; hence his terrifying, nonchalant violence, which in the end… but to begin with beginnings:
Although, admittedly, it's my own fault, I'm bound to say that if you think of me purely as a radio, you'll only be grasping half the truth. Thought is as often pictorial or purely emblematic as verbal; and anyway, in order to
communicate with, and understand, my
colleagues in
the Midnight Children's
Conference, it was necessary for me quickly to advance beyond the verbal stage. Arriving in their infinitely various minds, I was obliged to get beneath the surface veneer of front-of-mind thoughts in incomprehensible tongues, with the obvious (and previously demonstrated) effect that they became aware of my presence. Remembering the dramatic effect such an awareness had had on Evie Burns, I went to some pains to alleviate the shock of my entry. In all cases, my standard first transmission was an image of my face, smiling in what I trusted was a soothing, friendly, confident and leader-like fashion, and of a hand stretched out in friendship. There were, however, teething troubles.
It
took
me a little while to
realize that my
picture of myself was heavily distorted by my own self-consciousness about my appearance; so that the portrait I sent across the thought-waves of the nation, grinning like a Cheshire cat, was about as hideous as a portrait could be, featuring a wondrously enlarged nose, a completely non-existent chin and giant stains on each temple. It's no wonder that I was often greeted by yelps of mental alarm. I, too, was often similarly frightened by the self-images of my ten-year-old fellows. When we discovered what was happening, I encouraged the membership of the Conference, one by one, to go and look into a mirror, or a patch of still water; and then we did manage to find out what we really looked like. The only problems were that our Keralan member (who could, you remember, travel through mirrors) accidentally ended up emerging through a restaurant mirror in the smarter part of New Delhi, and had to make a hurried retreat; while the blue-eyed member for Kashmir fell into a lake and accidentally changed sex, entering as a girl and emerging as a beautiful boy.
...
… But now Padma says, mildly, 'What date was it?' And, without thinking, I answer: 'Some time in the spring.' And then it occurs to me that I have made another error-that the election of 1957 took place before, and not after, my tenth birthday; but although I have racked my brains, my memory refuses, stubbornly, to alter the sequence of events. This is worrying. I don't know what's gone wrong.
...
The
Kolynos Kid
From
ayah to Widow, I've been the sort of person to whom things
have been done; but Saleem Sinai,
perennial victim, persists in seeing himself as
protagonist. Despite Mary's crime; setting aside typhoid and snake-venom; dismissing two accidents, in washing-chest and circus-ring (when Sonny Ibrahim, master lock-breaker, permitted my budding horns of temples to invade his forcep-hollows, and through this combination unlocked
the door to the midnight children); disregarding the effects
of Evie's push and my mother's
infidelity; in spite of losing my hair to the bitter violence
of Emil Zagallo and my finger to the lip-licking goads of Masha Miovic; setting my face
against all
indications to
the contrary, I
shall now amplify,
in the manner and with the proper solemnity of a man of
science, my claim to a place at the centre of things.
'…
Your life, which will be, in a sense, the mirror of our own,'
the Prime Minister wrote, obliging me scientifically to face
the question: In what sense? How, in what terms, may the career
of a single . individual be
said to impinge on the fate of a nation? I must answer in
adverbs and hyphens: I was linked to history both literally and
metaphorically, both
actively and passively, in
what our (admirably modern) scientists
might term 'modes of connection' composed of
dualistically-combined configurations' of the two pairs of opposed adverbs given
above. This is why hyphens are necessary: acitively-literally, passively-metaphorically,
actively-metaphorically and passively-literally, I was
inextricably entwined with my
world.
Sensing
Padma's unscientific bewilderment, I revert to the inexactitudes
of common speech: By the combination
of 'active' and 'literal' I mean, of course, all actions of mine
which directly-literally-affected, or altered
the course of, seminal historical events, for instance the
manner in which I provided the language marchers with their battle-cry.
The union of
'passive' and 'metaphorical' encompasses
all socio-political trends and
events which, merely by existing, affected me metaphorically-for
example, by reading between the
lines of the episode entitled 'The Fisherman's Pointing Finger', you will perceive the unavoidable connection
between the infant state's attempts at rushing towards
full-sized adulthood and my own early, explosive efforts
at growth… Next, 'passive' and 'literal', when hyphenated, cover all moments at which national events had
a direct bearing upon the lives of myself and my family-under
this heading you should file
the freezing of my father's assets, and also the explosion at
Walkeshwar Reservoir, which unleased the great cat invasion.
And finally there is the 'mode' of the 'active-metaphorical', which groups together those occasions on which
things done by or to me were mirrored in the macrocosm of public affairs, and
my private existence
was shown to be symbolically at one with history. The mutilation
of my middle finger was a
case in point, because when I was detached from my fingertip and
blood (neither Alpha nor Omega)
rushed out in fountains, a similar thing happened to
history, and all sorts of everywhichthing began pouring out all over us;
but because history operates on a grander scale than any
individual, it took a good deal
longer to stitch it back together and mop up the mess.
'Passive-metaphorical',
'passive-literal',
'active-metaphorical': the Midnight Children's Conference was all three; but it
never became what I most wanted it to be; we never operated in
the first, most significant of
the 'modes of connection'. The 'active-literal' passed us
by.
...
Commander Sabarmati's baton
...
The
gradual
disintegration of the Midnight Children's Conference-which
finally fell apart on the day
the Chinese armies came down over the Himalayas to
humiliate the Indian fauj-was already well under way.
...
In
this way the Midnight Children's Conference fulfilled the
prophecy of the Prime Minister and became, in truth, a
mirror of the nation; the passive-literal mode was at work,
although I railed against it,
with increasing desperation, and finally with growing
resignation… 'Brothers, sisters!' I broadcast, with a mental voice as
uncontrollable as its physical counterpart, 'Do not let this
happen! Do not permit the endless
duality of masses-and-classes, capital-and-labour,
them-and-us to come between us! We,'
...
You
ask: there are ten-year-olds? I reply: Yes, but. You say: did
ten-year-olds, or even almost-elevens,
discuss the role of the individual in society? And the
rivalry of capital and labour? Were the internal stresses of agrarian and
industrialized zones made explicit? And conflicts in
socio-cultural heritages? Did children of less than four thousand
days discuss identity, and the inherent conflicts of capitalism?
Having got through fewer
than one hundred thousand hours, did they contrast Gandhi and
Marxlenin, power and impotence?
Was collectivity opposed to singularity? Was God killed
by children? Even allowing for the truth of the supposed miracles, can
we now believe that urchins spoke like old men with beards?
I
say: maybe not in these words; maybe not in words at all, but in
the purer language of thought; but yes, certainly, this
is what was at the bottom of it all; because children are the
vessels into which adults pour
their poison, and it was the poison of grown-ups which
did for us. Poison, and after a gap of many years, a Widow with a knife.
...
Once
upon a time there were Radha and Krishna, and Rama and Sita, and
Laila and Majnu; also (because
we are not unaffected by the West) Romeo and Juliet, and Spencer
Tracy and Katharine Hepburn.
===========
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|
Bal, Mieke: Narratology: Introduction to the Theory of Narrative. Trans. Christine van Boheemen. Toronto: University of Toronto, Press, 2009.
Barthes, Roland. ‘Introduction to the Structural Analysis of Narrative’ Image, Music, Text. Glasgow: Fonatana, 1977 (Translated from the French, 1966). Also in S. Onega (1999).
Booth, Wayne C. The Rhetoric of Fiction, Chicago, U of Chicago P, 1961.
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