Authortrek.com

 

Contact Us/FAQ Author interviews Authortrek Videos


Authors: A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  Q  R  S  T  U  V  W  X  Y  Z 

Do you write fiction or poetry? Then join our index by participating in the Authortrek interview


Search Authortrek.com, powered by FreeFind    


 

Visit our Michael Ondaatje page, for Michael Ondaatje biography, Michael Ondaatje bibliography, Michael Ondaatje interviews, and free Michael Ondaatje essays

 

This brilliant, stimulating novel reminded me a great deal of 'The Color Purple', especially regarding the theme of subjectivity.  Some of the critics of Walker's book said that for Celie to desire to become her own person, to express her subjectivity was wrong, since it was the overbearing subjectivity of the White European male which had created the tradition of slavery which still coloured Celie's life decades after its abolition.  There were critical attacks on the use of autobiography as a seductive tool of subjectivity, the danger being that one person's 'story' could be perceived as being more important than the 'facts'.

  Ondaatje's landscape is similar.  Okay, so Ondaatje's intention is to supply fictional biography (as opposed to Celie's fictional autobiography), but the same issue of subjectivity resounds.  'Anil's Ghost' is at heart a novel about language.  A novel about meaning.  Ondaatje promotes the very sound notion that language is all around us:  there is the language of touch (the personal way Ananda touches Anil in the novel), the language of noise (the ancient culture centred around music, the drumming that awaits identification of the head that Ananda fabricates), the language of sight (Anil sees Palipana at one point as an 'idea').  The author reminds us of that primeval language, of a time before written symbols, and recites a humorous, but significant tale of what a certain order of monks used to do to graven images.  It's probably no accident that Anil's favourite rock star is Prince, or 'The Artist Formerly Known As...'.  I never had much sympathy for Prince before I read Ondaatje's novel and put down his decision to change his name to a symbol as typical showbiz eccentricity.  But now I feel disappointed that the symbol has reverted to 'Prince', a gesture which resounds with the coincidence of this novel.

  Anil, the female forensic brought in by the UN to examine alleged human rights' abuses in Sri Lanka, is the one character who seems determined to project her subjectivity in this way.  She demands to define herself, to name herself.   As a young woman growing up in Sri Lanka, she won a swimming contest.  As she returns to her homeland, she finds that the fame of her sporting exploits has reached everyone she works with, even although it was one event decades before.  Anil brushes such labels aside, "I'm not a swimmer" she declares.  Even although, in a previous life, her 'fame' as a swimmer had helped to break her shyness at parties.  Now that she has defined herself as 'forensic scientist', she is no longer a swimmer; no longer needs to be a swimmer.  But even labeled by her occupation, she seems to be guided by simplicity, and her instinct is to create order out of chaos, to find her truth.

  Anil's antagonist in the swimming debate is Sarath, an archaeologist employed by the government, who much prefers complexity and silence.  For him, the 'truth' is a dangerous concept which should never be discussed when there are recording devices around.  Anil is suspicious of him, for he works for, and has relatives in, the government which seems to be very much involved in the killings.  Doubt resounds within Anil because Sarath seems to be a decent man, and pupil of the great Palipana.  Here Ondaatje seems to be dealing with the ancient binary opposition of the West as rational and the East as irrational, with Anil embodying the values of the West, and Sarath embodying those of the East.  Yet there's also a binary opposition which has the West as powerful male and the East as cowering female.  Ondaatje seems to have swapped the genders here, since Anil is most assuredly female (she claims she longs for the privacy of the West, but delights bathing in open air showers). 

  It is tempting to think that Ondaatje's treading the ground of neutrality here as Sarath seems to (there's no mention of 'Tamil' along with 'Tiger'), but both appear rather to opt for complexity over simplicity (I was surprised to learn that there were two factions fighting the government in Sri Lanka).  'Truth is mere opinion' is a belief which is uttered here, with the suggestion that there's always a large dosing of fiction mixed with any fact.  Palipana's reputation as an archaeologist is damaged when he insists on seeing a truth which lays beyond the 'facts' (just as his physical sight deteriorates).  Ondaatje doesn't give us a tedious list of 'rights' and 'wrongs' in the Sri Lankan context, but merely conveys that everyone has lost someone, and carry with them a ghost.  Lots of people have disappeared without explanation, without context in the conflict - the survivors too scared to ask for clarity in case they're next (and without context, you cannot create meaning, as Anil's friend Leaf discovers).  Instead, they invent the histories of the lost ones, who are signified by any remaining talisman, such as a sarong.

  Anil sees that she and Sarath can do something, for they have evidence in the form of the body of one of the 'disappeared', a corpse which they have called 'Sailor' (from the rhyme 'Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor').  But such is the dominance of Western popular novels on Sri Lankan bookshelves, with each Agatha Christie a reminder of colonialism, that one can't help but think of Sailor as 'Spy': that Death as well as the stars looks over the characters in this novel.

   With the revelation that Anil's lover Cullis has a love of Biggles inherited from his father, it's an anarchic streak in me that sees Johns' hero as a partial inspiration for Onaatje's Booker prize winning novel 'The English Patient'.  Here, Ondaatje has produced a startling book, which is extremely topical (note the impotent UN).  There is also a lot of humour (Anil's letter to John Boorman concerning Lee Marvin's gunshot wound in the opening of 'Point Blank').  But mostly this is a treatise on subjectivity: a force used for ill by all those murdering in their bid to create subjects (where 'subjects' = 'objects', the silent mass to be multiplied by fear), and as a force used for good.  After all, it is Ananda, the artist, who breathes life into objects by painting their eyes.

AuthorTrek Rating: 10/10.

Kevin Patrick Mahoney.

 

Visit our Michael Ondaatje page, for Michael Ondaatje biography, Michael Ondaatje bibliography, Michael Ondaatje interviews, and free Michael Ondaatje essays