Saturday, 8 July 2023

War and the Politics of War: LitAgra in Conversation with Nibir K. Ghosh on Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five



 

War and the Politics of War: 

LitAgra in Conversation with Nibir K. Ghosh on 

Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five

 Saurabh Agarwal







In this conversation, recorded at the LitAgra ‘Book of the Month Meet’ held at Agra on 29 April, 2023, Professor Nibir K. Ghosh, talks at length on a variety of subjects that include his internationally acclaimed book Calculus of Power, the complexities of reading works like Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five, glamorization as well as denunciation of War in literature and films, and  how the individual, caught in the vortex of the power game, strives to evolve strategies for survival in a hostile, regimented and fluctuating environment.

Saurabh Agarwal: On behalf of LitAgra, I consider it a privilege to welcome you to today’s meet. First of all, accept our heartiest congratulations on the completion of 25 years of publication of your book, Calculus of Power. It is also an exemplary feat that this book figured in the list of 100 best books in “Political, Social, Cultural Criticism on Imaginative Literature: 1990-2003” that includes names of authors/critics like Harold Bloom, Edward Said, Lionel Trilling, Alice Walker, Toni Morrison among others.

Nibir Ghosh: Thanks, Saurabh for the greetings and felicitations. I deem it a pleasure to be sharing this evening with the LitAgra members.

Saurabh Agarwal: How did you come to decide on the catchy title “Calculus of Power” for your book?

Nibir Ghosh: This work presents a systematic and analytical evaluation of the political issues crucial to the understanding of twentieth century America. As politics is the most explicit embodiment of power relations, the book not only highlights the dynamics of power central to these issues but also illuminates how the individual, caught in the vortex of the power game, strives to evolve strategies for survival in a hostile, regimented and fluctuating environment. In a figurative sense, I have used the mathematical symbol to understand power equations in the world’s most powerful nation.

Saurabh Agarwal: Calculus of Power is an attempt to understand the problems and the changes that have been taking place in America through the study of selected fictional works. The selection of 18 works that form the subject of your study must have been a daunting task for you. 

Nibir Ghosh: As you may be aware, Calculus of Power is subtitled Modern American Political Novel. Selecting 18 novels out of around 125, representing five different areas of American society and polity, was primarily a labour of love rather than a daunting task. It was a challenge in a way that each novel’s inclusion demanded a rationale in being truly representative. It was a work that took me six precious years to complete but the recognition it received makes up for the time involved. Also, it gave me a comprehensive idea of what America was, is and will be through an intensive reading of its history, literature, culture and politics. The grant of the Senior Fulbright Fellowship for a year of research at the University of Washington, Seattle was like an icing on the cake.

Saurabh Agarwal: We as the book club members and readers in general always face this debate on what to read. So, to the general readers what would you suggest should be the consideration before making a book selection.

Nibir Ghosh: In Lewis Carol’s Alice in Wonderland Alice asks the Cheshire Cat: “Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?” “That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the Cat. “I don't much care where,” said Alice. “Then it doesn't matter which way you go,” said the Cat. The way we should approach a book is quite like that. It depends on our individual approach to life and what we want from life: pleasure, profit, entertainment, or some higher goal or purpose.

Saurabh Agarwal: One challenge that we face is whether to choose fiction or nonfiction.

Nibir Ghosh: Fiction obviously provides a more comprehensive imaginative vision of reality than other genres.

Saurabh Agarwal: What, in your view, is a reasonably good way of approaching a book?

Nibir Ghosh: As a student, I had read a statement by Hippolyte Taine (1828-1893), French thinker, critic and historian known for applying the scientific method to the study of the humanities, wherein he mentions three great conditioning facts pertaining to study of literature: “the man, the milieu and the moment” i.e. the writer’s personality, his social, political, and geographical background, and the historical situation in which he writes. Considering the importance women writing enjoys today, we could also easily use “the woman, the milieu and the moment.”

Saurabh Agarwal: Does it mean we should be familiar with the man, the milieu and the moment before we begin reading a book?

Nibir Ghosh: No. On the contrary we should delve straight into the book. If we get interested in the plot, theme, or character we should then go to see it against these concepts. I have always encouraged my students to read the best books, rather than read the best books about the best books.  

Saurabh Agarwal: Slaughterhouse Five occupies a significant position among novels about war and its dreadful consequences. What relevance can a reader in India find in this book after the period of 75 years from the time dealt by the novel? Or in other words why should we read Slaughterhouse Five?

Nibir Ghosh: You ask, why should we read Slaughterhouse Five? Why should we read any good book for that matter? Milton said that “A good book is the precious lifeblood of a master spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to life beyond life.” You know, Saurabh, when the COVID-19 pandemic broke out in France, it is told that there were longer queues of people outside book shops in Paris to procure a copy of The Plague by Albert Camus than that of COVID-infected patients waiting outside hospitals for a bed. Doesn’t this augur well for those who value books?

In my view, Slaughterhouse Five is the precious lifeblood of Kurt Vonnegut that gives us a view into a dimension of humanity hitherto unexplored. Why else would Vonnegut have waited 23 years to come to the conclusion that “there is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre.” His is a daring stand to expose those powers that be that glamorize war.

Saurabh Agarwal: Could you please cite a few examples of works that show glamorization of war?

Nibir Ghosh: I remember when I once visited Bangalore (now Bengaluru) as a student, I had gone to see Patton, the multiple Oscar-winning 1970 film in a posh theatre. The movie opened with the American flag sprawled over the large screen. Then walked in General George S. Patton, famous tank commander of World War II, played by George C. Scott. As General Patton uttered the following opening words on the screen: “Now I want you to remember that no bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country,” everyone present in the hall gave the speech a standing ovation. This is how War and such propagandist articulations thrills audiences all the world over. In Slaughterhouse Five Vonnegut cites words used by President Harry S. Truman’s announcement justifying the dropping of the atom bomb on Hiroshima: “With this bomb we have now added a new and revolutionary increase in destruction to supplement the growing power of our armed forces…We are now prepared to obliterate more rapidly and completely every productive enterprise the Japanese have above ground in any city. We shall completely destroy Japan’s power to make war.” This is how military supremacy is established without counting the cost in human terms.

Saurabh Agarwal: Can we call Slaughterhouse Five an anti-war novel?

Nibir Ghosh: I see it primarily as a novel that condemns war as well as violence in whatever form they appear. It is a novel about death. If you have noticed, the expression, “So it goes,” figures 106 times in the novel. It is not a way of accepting life but, rather, of facing death. It occurs in the text almost every single time someone dies, and only when death is evoked. It is used only and always as a comment on death. In the last section of the book, the frame of reference shifts from Dresden to America when Billy Pilgrim mentions the assassinations of Robert Kennedy and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., two events that had then rocked  the contemporary world.

Saurabh Agarwal: In Calculus of Power the chapter entitled “In the Theater of War” deals with four works including Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut. All these works are canonical in their own right. The range and variety of this choice can be understood. Could you shed some light on the said chapter?

Nibir Ghosh: The first war novel in the chapter is Ernest Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls (1940) that deals with the Spanish Civil War which was considered a dress-rehearsal to World War II. Hemingway portrays the human ability to display exceptional courage when loyalty to a cause is at stake. It is followed by a discussion on Catch-22 (1961) by Joseph Heller. Heller’s novel became an instant success with a sale exceeding six million copies, an unparalleled publishing phenomenon and a cult book all over the world. Emerging out of Heller’s experience as a wing bombardier in Second World War for the Twelfth Air Force stationed at Corsica, where he flew sixty missions, Catch-22 continues to be regarded as a scathing indictment of the big business of modern warfare.

Armies of the Night (1968) by Norman Mailer has for its subject the author’s diatribe against the Vietnam War that is founded on strongly logical lines. He takes almost all the important factors into consideration before denouncing the American intervention. According to him, no war is justified which tends to encourage the secret passion for hunting other humans even if it is nurtured on the illusory note of patriotism. His assertion is an indictment of American involvement in Vietnam: “pull out of Vietnam and completely leave Asia to The Asians.” Armies of the Night offers an elaborate expression of his first-hand experience of the anti-war march on the Pentagon on October 21, 1967. Subtitled History as a Novel, the Novel as History, the book won the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award. Combining the historical and the novelistic viewpoints of the Pentagon March, Mailer explores, with a fairly high degree of passion, all the ingredients of the anti-Vietnam demonstration in order to offer a brilliant exposure of America itself.  

Saurabh Agarwal: How would you compare the novels of these three writers with Slaughterhouse Five?

Nibir Ghosh: In relation to the above three novels, Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five showcases a uniquely different view of war by portraying the fire-bombing of Dresden by American bombers on February 1945 that destroyed the beautiful German city and killed 1,35,000 innocent people. Although war and catastrophe recur frequently in Slaughterhouse Five, combat centred action is cleverly avoided to focus attention on Billy Pilgrim’s conscious and subconscious interaction with the fire-bombing of Dresden. It is pertinent that the novel contains no scene of any battle. What remains at the centre always is the devastation of a beautiful undefended city. It is not surprising that the novel also mentions the catastrophe brought about by American intervention in the Vietnam War. The speaker at the Lions Club meeting voices America’s capacity for intent and capacity for destroying people. With a tinge of irony, Billy Pilgrim refers to the views of the said speaker justifying America’s role in Vietnam: “Americans had no choice but to keep fighting in Vietnam until they achieved victory or until Communists realized that they could not force their way of life on weak countries. … He was in favor of increased bombings, of bombing North Vietnam back into the Stone Age, if it refused to see reason.” Combining history with science-fiction, fantasy with documentation, reality with optical illusion, Vonnegut offers a comprehensive critique of war and the grim realities of war in a manner that justifies that “there is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre.” Also, Slaughterhouse Five seems to me to be significant because it shows “our” side, the supposed good guys, destroying a beautiful city.

Saurabh Agarwal: There is a whole gamut of books that have been written on World Wars and still the writers who have been born after WWII are writing books based on that.  Depiction of WW in literature and movies has been accepted as a method to deal with the pain. India too has undergone pain and suffering untold. Do you feel that writers in India have done justice in terms of tackling the subject of atrocities that this country has undergone?

Books after WW II often of focused on Vietnam. If you’re going to talk about wars and books it would be savvy to say something about Vietnam – more than what you say about Armies of the Night.

Nibir Ghosh: Yes, writers and film makers in India have dealt with atrocities connected with events like the Partition, Gujarat riots, the Sikh riots, the Kargil war etc. But in most cases they follow the traditional linear uncomplicated mode of narration and the experiences have a direct bearing on actual action.

Saurabh Agarwal: Many of our readers experience great difficulty in reading works by modern writers on account of the complexities of their narratives and their experimentation with techniques. Would you like to share your views on how a lay reader, especially in India, can negotiate through such hurdles pertaining to techniques and themes used in the Western world?

Nibir Ghosh: In order to come to terms with the complexities involved in understanding or enjoying fiction of this kind, please allow me to digress a little and take the learned audience to some of the factors that influenced writers in France, Germany, England, America among other nations in the 20th century and after. With the publication of Principles of Psychology by William James in 1890, radical change was ushered in the domain of human thought. James' most famous psychological metaphor was the concept of “stream of consciousness” that changed forever our traditional manner of studying human behaviour. However, it may be useful to say that “stream of consciousness” made its entry into literature primarily through three exponents -- Virginia Woolf in England, Marcel Proust in France and James Joyce in Ireland (though unknown to one another) -- who were working simultaneously on the idea of using the stream of consciousness as a technique to unfold the working of the human mind in its various dimensions. Virginia Woolf pointed out emphatically that “Life is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged. Life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding the mind from the beginning of consciousness to the end.” Herein arose the need for a writer or reader to understand that the linear mode of the beginning, the middle and the end was no longer tenable to see reality in its totality.

Saurabh Agarwal: Did World War II and its aftermath effect the perception of life in any way? 

Nibir Ghosh: The post-World War II scene raised very significant issues pertaining to Europe and America in terms of philosophy of living and approach to literature, giving rise to ideas like existentialism, nihilism and the absurd that propagated that God was dead, the Novel was dead, the Hero was dead. The emergent existential crisis drew the attention of writers and philosophers alike. Nietzsche pronounced: “Not to be born is best for man; to die young was the second best.” In due course, Soren Kierkegaard, Jean Paul Sartre, Thomas Becket and many others opened up debates and discourses about finding ways and means to discover the purpose of living in an absurd universe where nothing seemed to be certain and constant.

Saurabh Agarwal: Most of the themes of the book are being taken up by the members. I would request you to express your views on the idea of Free Will which figures prominently in the novel. How has Kurt Vonnegut addressed this philosophical concern in his work?

Nibir Ghosh: First of all, let’s explore what “Free Will” implies. Shakespeare, in Julius Caesar writes, “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,/ But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” Which means man is free to forge his own destiny. Contrarily, in King Lear we have the lines, “As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport,” meaning thereby that we are mere playthings in the hands of God. Free Will is, therefore, our ability to explore our choices and then take a stand and decide the course of action we need to follow. But once we decide, we are responsible directly for the consequences of our actions. In the Gita Lord Krishna explains to Arjuna everything he needs to know but in the 18th chapter, he tells Arjuna that he is now free to decide what is best for him.

In Slaughterhouse Five Billy Pilgrim exemplifies that he is capable of exercising his Free Will despite his being “a plaything of forces” beyond his control when he reassures Mary O’Hare, his friend’s wife, who derides people for glorifying wars: “If I ever do finish it, though, I give you my word of honor: there won’t be a part for Frank Sinatra or John Wayne.” True to his promise, Vonnegut refrains from glorifying War in any form like the makers of the film Patton.

Saurabh Agarwal: What role can a novel like Slaughterhouse Five play in discouraging human interest in warfare?

Nibir Ghosh: Vonnegut condemns violence but does not see any great possibility of the individual effecting any change. Eric Maria Remarque’s All Quiet on the Western Front (1929) couldn’t dissuade demagogues like Hitler, Mussolini, Franco and others from initiating the systematic murder and genocide of millions of people from 1939 to 1945. In today’s parlance all the anti-war novels are of no consequence to fanatics like Vladimir Putin, Kim Jong Un, Donald Trump or the rest of them. Yet, it is important that novels like Slaughterhouse Five must continue to be written to sensitize feeling human beings to the catastrophe and the misery of what meaningless wars entail. No careful reader can miss the impact of Vonnegut’s firm resolve that appears very early in the novel: “I have told my sons that they are not under any circumstances to take part in massacres, and that the news of massacres of enemies is not to fill them with satisfaction or glee. I have also told them not to work for companies which make massacre machinery, and to express contempt for people who think we need machinery like that.” It cannot be ruled out that the thousands of Russians who have left Russia and have turned away from war were influenced by books and movies and literature about war.

The goal that Vonnegut sets for the individual is to find a strategy for surviving in a conflict-ridden world by asserting his/her own choice of condemning violence in any form rather than side with offenders under the pretext of neutrality. Billy Pilgrim has acquired, through his own experiences as a prisoner of war, “the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, and Wisdom to know the difference.”

Saurabh Agarwal: Thank you Sir for this engaging conversation.

Nibir Ghosh: I must thank you, Mr. Mohit Mahajan and your enthusiastic team for organizing this meet with such success.

 




Video Link

 LIT - 29-04-2023 - 2of8.mp4

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tuesday, 16 May 2023

Soliloquy of a Sailor: Poems by Manas Bakshi Reviewed by Dr. Nibir K. Ghosh

Universal Symphony of a Transitory Existence

 (Book Review)

Dr. Nibir K. Ghosh

 

Soliloquy of a Sailor by Manas Bakshi, a veteran Indian English poet with numerous acclaimed collections to his credit, is like a breath of fresh air in a scene where one is virtually overwhelmed to see poetry of all hues and shades spilling over 24x7 in all kinds of print and online formats including every conceivable social media platform. In Preface to Lyrical Ballads, that proclaimed the advent of the Romantic Movement, William Wordsworth had categorically pointed out that “Poems to which any value can be attached were never produced on any variety of subjects but by a man who, being possessed of more than usual organic sensibility, had also thought long and deeply.” Amply displaying a sensibility that Wordsworth talked about, Bakshi’s poems in this collection reflect a serious contemplation on the kaleidoscopic manifestations of human life. Vacillating between ground reality and metaphysical ruminations, the Sailor’s imagination embraces all that is visible to him from his earthly moorings and the battle of life to his arrival at his ultimate destination on the other shore.

The Soliloquy comprises fourteen poems with each poem further spread over several sections. The titles of the poems do prepare the reader for an extensive journey of life through the pageant of wayside wonders, engaged relationships, and self-realisation to arrive at the abode of the ‘formless divine’.

 

In the opening poem, “The Journey Begins,” the poetic persona poignantly states: “Colour doesn’t matter,/ What matters/ Is depth./ What’s there beyond/ The eternal riddle –/ Between a beginning/ And an end.” Reference to colour/depth binary brings into play the dilemma of living that separates what is visually available from what one experiences intuitively.

If, at times, the Sailor is lost in reveries and memories of abstractions, mythological figures in the guise of Lord Krishna and Arjuna make their appearance in “Memory Calls Back” to evoke the need for fighting against injustice and taking  up “the cudgel/ …To fight off the felonious opponents.” In a world fraught with fear, loneliness, boredom, anxiety, distrust, and ennui, the poem “Vignette of Relationships” offers the anodyne of verifying “all relationships/ On the touchstone of true love.”

Though engaged in contemplation of the divine, the Sailor cannot resist bringing in to play the sordid boon of “Facebook relationship” of the Cyber Age that celebrates galore the empty ritual of each day of the year: “Rose Day,/ Opening petals one by one/ Propose Day, Chocolate Day, Promise Day/ Teddy Day, Hug Day, Kiss Day/ It all ripens into Valentine’s Day.” Ironically, the Sailor views these day-oriented relationships as “the sandcastle/ Thriving at the mercy of sea waves.” (“Viewing Relationships from a Different Angle.”) Likewise, in “Wayside Wonders” the poet understands how “At the crossroads of/ Myth and reality/ Transience and eternity/ Life and death” what ultimately remains is “Emptiness,” reminding one of Mathew Arnold’s lines from the poem “To Marguerite”: “YES! in the sea of life enisl’d,/ With echoing straits between us thrown,/ Dotting the shoreless watery wild,/ We mortal millions live alone.” The Sailor, however, is not unaware of the fact that in a world torn by “Religious anarchism” and “mindless terrorism” the panacea lies in people coming out of the shell of their island-like indifference to embrace with humaneness the essential wisdom of “coexistence.” (“Wayside Wonders.”)

The fate of Man Alone comes up for elaborate consideration in the reflective lines of the poem “Lonely in Life, Lonely After Death.” Here, the soliloquy turns into the melancholy strain of the Sailor who is seen as a child reconciled to find amusement even in a “broken toy.” The poetic cadence gradually changes as, adrift like the boat, he begins to imagine himself as the prime mover until the realization of “How painful it is/ To be really left alone!” dawns upon him. Nevertheless, what urges him to continue his “mystic journey” are the sights and sounds of “the flowing water, blowing air/ Charming sunlight and soothing moonbeam” that offer him endearing companionship.

The poem “Voice of the River” gives ample evidence of the poet’s ability to think long and deep simultaneously about the mundane and the sublime. Pained to see “Hoodlums, terrorists and rapists/ Ransacking faith in microcosm,” the Sailor provides an instance of what true humanity is all about in: “I offer water/ To one and all,/ Call it life..../ Never draw a dividing line/ Between countries/ And community-centric entities –/ But alas!/ It’s the pride of human beings/ To demarcate territory,/ And mark their identity./ Nature has blessed all of us/ With everything – beneficial, healing and real.”

Like Ralph Waldo Emerson, the American Transcendent philosopher, Bakshi believes in the plentiful blessings that Nature offers to mankind in order to rid the individual as well as the collective craving for gross material pursuits. This can be seen prominently in the poem “Nocturnal Musings” where the focus is not on urban society but on the life of Tribals who inhabit different corners of the globe be it “The Onga of the Andamans/ Or, the Massai of Africa.” Living in direct contact with Nature, Tribal communities continue to cherish their inheritance of culture, music and song that blissfully spring from ancient durable customs that go hand-in-hand with the pristine glory of Nature. Bakshi observes in the said poem: “It’s no myth./ The tribals still believe/ Each object of creation/ Linked up with another” and goes on to assert how, bereft of “spiritual ecology/ Humanity is incomplete.” By clipping the wings of Nature man can only hasten his own extinction.

The philosophical strain of experiencing being and nothingness as a true seeker who has learnt to shed off his ego to ensure an affinity with the Supreme godhead is brought out very effectively in the following lines from the poem “The Shapeless Divine”:

           I’m nobody.

All is He – the Almighty.

He in me – an individual entity.

Detached – I’m nobody till lost in Him.

‘Soham’ – I’m He

An iota of the divine, shapeless infinite.

 Yet, knowing that the task of renunciation to “attain Moksha” is not everyone’s cup of tea, the seeker is caught in the ambivalence akin to that of Prince Hamlet in the “To be or not to be” soliloquy in Shakespeare’s play. As a fitting finale to the ruminations on the transitoriness of human existence and the inevitability of death, the concluding poem “The Realization Begins” ushers in the dawn of realization and ultimate wisdom:

 

Born an ordinary human being

I know not what’s incarnation,

Have only completed a circle –

Circle of being myself

With own sufferings, failures and success,

…   …   …   …

All around’s water

Endless and deep

A wandering self, a sailor myself

Awaiting the final dip.

 

The distinct gleam of hope and faith expressed in this poem reminds one of the existential vision of Samuel Becket’s Waiting for Godot where Vladimir and Estragon exclaim with certainty: “in this immense confusion one thing alone is clear. We are waiting for Godot to come.”

 

Apart from very few poems where one can see an effort being made to use some rhyme scheme, Manas Bakshi admirably succeeds in engaging the interest of the reader/audience who are drawn to listen with rapt attention to the symphony of existence which he sings with gay abandon. 

 

REFERENCE

 Soliloquy of a Sailor: Poems by Manas Bakshi. Authorspress, 2020. pp. 92. Rs. 295.


Dr. Nibir K. Ghosh, former Senior Fulbright Fellow 2003–4 at the University of Washington, Seattle, USA, is UGC Emeritus Professor of English at Agra College, Agra, India. He is Chief Editor of Re-Markings, an India-based international journal of English Letters in its twenty-second year of publication. He has authored/edited fifteen internationally books that include Calculus of Power: Modern American Novel, Multicultural America: Conversations with Contemporary Authors, W. H. Auden: Therapeutic Fountain, Rabindranath Tagore: The Living Presence, Gandhi and His Soulforce Mission, and Beyond Boundaries: Reflections of Indian and U.S. Scholars, among others. His most recent work includes Mirror from the Indus: Essays, Tributes and Memoirs and Republic of Words: Conversations with Creative Minds from Around the Globe (with Dr. Sunita Ghosh).

The Review was published in Creative Flight: An International Half-Yearly Open Access Peer-Reviewed E-Journal in English (ISSN 2582-6158), Vol. 3, No. 2 (October, 2022) pp. 193-197 and Boloji.com (USA).

 


Monday, 24 April 2023

Nibir K. Ghosh reviews Twilight of Torment: I. Melancholy by Léonora Miano - ASYMPTOTE

 

ASYMPTOTE


Nibir K. Ghosh reviews Twilight of Torment: I. Melancholy by LĂ©onora Miano

translated from the French by Gila Walker (Seagull Books, 2022)


Anyone familiar with the novels of the Francophone Cameroonian writer LĂ©onora Miano would not be caught unawares by the title of her recent work Twilight of Torment, translated from the French by Gila Walker. Following on the heels of Dark Heart of the Night (translated by Tamsin Black; Bison Books, 2012) and Season of the Shadow (translated by Gila Walker; Seagull Books, 2018), Twilight of Torment visibly enhances the terrain of Miano’s exploration of African diversity. As one flips open the first page of the book, the reader’s eye is immediately struck by an epigraph from the Black celebrity writer Sonia Sanchez’s poem “Present”: “there is no place for a soft/black/woman.” The opening line of the novel, “It’s suffocating like before a storm,” seems to suggest the anxiety that precedes a calamitous situation and prepares the reader for becoming acquainted with the “subterranean wounds” from which Black women “never recover.” The main protagonist, Madame, readily avers, “There’s no room for romance, for soppiness in the lives of women here. In these lands where the sky is neither shelter nor recourse, being a woman means deadening your heart.”

In providing this backdrop at the very outset of the novel, the author reveals her intent to confront head-on the predicament of women, especially of African women, for whom even day-to-day existence is fraught with the perennial torment of “deadening your heart.” Observing a stony silence rather than giving vent to the bottled-up anger, rage, and discontent stemming from the curse of being Black and a woman seems the norm. However, not content with being an accomplice in the conspiracy of silence, Miano allows her protagonists to believe that “being a woman in these parts means evaluating, probing, calculating, anticipating, deciding, and shouldering.” Consequently, Black women are free to realize what Virginia Woolf stated in her essay A Room of One’s Own (1929): “Life is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged. Life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope that surrounds us from the beginning of consciousness to the end.”

It is by delving deep into the consciousness and interiority of events, memories, desires, ancestral history, and tradition that Miano’s four protagonists are able to convey not only their agony and anguish but also their resolve to discover panaceas located beyond torment and torture.

The novel is spread into four distinct narratives that showcase the life and experiences of each of the significant figures—Madame, Amandla, Ixora, and Tiki. The blurb indicates how the four women speak to the same man, who is not there. He is the son of the first, the great-yet-impossible love of the second, the platonic companion of the third, the older brother of the last. Speaking to him in his absence, it is to themselves that these women turn, examining their own stories to make sense of their journey, from twilight to twilight, through a mysterious stormy night in the middle of the dry season.

Dio is the absent character addressed by the four women in turn. Their tales show how each one of them, in their complex relationship with him, have been affected by Dio's inexplicable approach to life and people. LĂ©onora Miano, as the blurb continues, skillfully brings together various stories to offer a panoramic view of “femininity, sexuality, self-love, and the intrusion of history into the intimate lives of people of African descent.” Through these interconnected narratives, Miano successfully creates a comprehensive picture of women caught in an intricate web of multiple relationships that governs the action the course of action that each may adopt to survive in a seemingly hostile world impacted by considerations of gender, patriarchy, masculinity, ancestry, lineage, superstition, and violence.

The Madame Mususedi’s narrative occupies significant space in Twilight of Torment, and she articulates the relationships with the other major characters in the novel. In marrying Amos, who carries with him the tag of royalty, she bargained her material resources for the reflected glory that she thought she would find in the union with him. The marriage took place in the north, against her parents’ wishes. Disillusionment soon follows, as the brutality of Amos’s domestic violence becomes a regular feature of her life. Amos’s sisters also play their part in taming her to keep her in her “place.” She exclaims wistfully: “Royalty is forged in women’s wombs, but the power that it confers is held by men.” She also accepts that “What I lived in this house is an atrocity.” It may be pointed out that the “North” figures quite a few times in the novel though there is no reference to any specific country. Perhaps, Miano is using the term to designate a space inhabited by black African women irrespective of nationality and culture.

Madame’s son Dio and daughter Tiki who constantly witness the spectacle of violence at home deeply resent Amos’s inhuman behavior and often encourage their mother to abandon her husband and live a life of freedom and dignity. She does give the prospect serious thought when she goes on a vacation with her children and meets a lady called Eshe. Through her brief but intense relationship with Eshe, Madame experiences the feeling of warmth and security that a durable association with her could provide: “A door opened, revealing an expanse within that I did not even know it existed. A territory so vast that I had no idea how to cross it. What I would find at the end of the road was visible from the threshold. All I needed to do was make the journey. Make up my mind to set out on one of the courses, all of which would bring me safely to harbor. I was free.” While she is contemplating going ahead with what her heart and soul earnestly desire, the ghosts of propriety, fear, and shame make their presence felt and dissuade her from giving free rein to her personal desire. As a result, she returns to her husband with her children.

In due course, Dio leaves for the North where he develops a deep friendship with an immigrant. Following the sudden death of his friend in an accident, Dio reaches out to the deceased’s family and takes on the responsibility of looking after his wife Ixora and son Kabral. He gets close to them and ultimately leaves the North and returns home to his mother with Ixora and her son. The return of Dio with the two newcomers greatly offends Madame, who takes an instant dislike to Ixora but gradually warms to her son. Madame scorns Ixora for her lack of a family lineage. She finds her ordinariness detestable. Madame’s narrative also includes a description of Amandla and her relationship with Dio, which somehow never matures into a union of any kind. In comparison with Dio’s ambiguous relationship with Ixora, Madame finds the relationship with Amandla more acceptable.

The three narratives that continue the novel poignantly bring into focus not only the experiences, trials, and tribulations of Amandla, Ixora, and Tiki with respect to their relationships with Dio, Madame, and other characters who appear in their lives, but also reveal the author’s concern with bringing into bold relief elements of African culture that were cast into oblivion and replaced with French culture through stratagems of colonial design. In this regard, the novel may be seen as in conversation with Gabriel Okara’s poem “The Piano and the Drums,” where he writes of the colonial strategy of overpowering the sound of the drums with that of “a wailing piano / solo speaking of complex ways / in tear-furrowed concerto.”

                                             Leonara Miano
Amandla’s story begins with the reference to her relationship with Dio, which began while she was a teacher at Heru School, an institution that she had founded with the avowed purpose of teaching the values of African culture and tradition to girls. She acknowledges that she had, by choice, taken responsibility for the preservation and propagation of African customs against the onslaught of what the colonial powers call modernism. She recounts:

I was a child when my mother taught me to reject the names used to trample on our identity. Words by way of which our humanity was denied. I knew very early on that the land where the human race was born was called Kemet. That we were Kemites. Not Blacks. The Black race was invented purely to cast us outside humankind. To justify the transatlantic dispersion. To make chattel of us to be bought in instalments.

She points out that the invaders never bothered to learn the language of the people they colonized. They, according to Amandla, prioritized material happiness over the love for life: “They disdain us for not always asking more of life than what it gives us. For not setting our sights on where they set theirs. Our civilization is at odds with all their conceptions. This is why they still know nothing of us. This is why modelling on their example would be suicide.” Amandla’s view echoes what Ralph Waldo Emerson, the American Transcendentalist philosopher, had warned his fellow Americans about blindly following the British in his essay “Self-Reliance”: “Imitation is suicide.”

Amandla attributes the failure of a union with Dio materializing to incompatibility arising out of his lack of concern for her as a person. He was there and yet not there. What seems to characterize Amandla is her faith in a relationship based on what D. H. Lawrence would call the “religion of blood.” The fulfillment of her desire comes to her in the form of her new lover, Misipo, an already married man. This is made apparent when she declares to the memory of Dio:

 

I don’t love him like I loved you but he gives me what you always denied me. What your body withheld. What I need more than anything. I can admit it now. I am a woman with him. It’s important to me. To be touched. To be taken . . . What happens between two people who surrender completely to each other is beyond the flesh. It’s a spiritual act . . . To discover too that desire is more than a craving. It’s a feeling.

Ixora’s account begins with her disclosing how she had been beaten violently by Dio and thrown out of his car amid a torrential downpour for breaking off her engagement with him. Even in such a perilous moment of agony, Ixora experiences a feeling of deliverance from her plight: “I don’t care, I feel free, even though I’m lying here in the mud, without the slightest idea how I’ll get out of this situation, I’m not in pain, you bashed me too hard for there to be any pain left, it hit me like a torpedo blast, causing numbness all over, such things happen it seems, when the pain is too strong, you feel nothing anymore.” What is evident from Ixora’s outburst is her resilience in fighting back against injustice without fear and anxiety about what the future has in store. She reminds Dio that they were an odd pair “that never mates, that never seeks warmth from each other’s bodies, a couple founded on the loss of a friend . . "

The epigraph from Audre Lorde’s poem “Who Said It Was Simple,” placed at the beginning of the fourth and final chapter of the novel, offers a glimpse into the consciousness of Madame’s daughter, Tiki: “There are so many roots / to the tree of anger / that sometimes / the branches shatter / before they bear.” Like the trees and people that face the ravages of the storm, Tiki is determined to “rebuild again.” She points out the importance of ancestral language in preserving and sustaining time-honored traditions that unite communities. Tiki calls it the folly of destiny that their mother, Madame, had to contend with “two lineageless women, two descendants of slaves” in her life. She makes a reference to Eshe, whom they had met on their vacation, and the letters from her to Madame that Tiki discovered in her mother’s closet: Letters that spoke of the pain of “having dreamed too brightly, of having to wake up and learn how to breathe again.” Accusing her brother Dio of not showing any concern, Tiki says, “You know nothing of the forces that have always oppressed her, you didn’t take enough interest in your parents to find out who they were, the kind of people they were.” She adds, “That’s the way it is for everyone in our community . . . we know we are the fruit of a tree that no one will take responsibility for cutting down.”

Towards the end of the novel Tiki muses over her relationships with various men and remarks how, in her conversations with her mother, she has cleverly avoided answering “specific questions on the thorny subject of my love life. The fact that she loved a woman will not enable her to understand my way of loving men. It’s my life, my affair.” It is obvious that Tiki assumes responsibility for her own future and mentions about her present companion that “Our sexual needs are in harmony, we like alternative medicine and we’re vegetarians. I’m a bit down in the dumps, but no one dies from that. You’re going to call, Big Bro, I’ll be here.”

Taken together, the four different, though interconnected, narratives provide a comprehensive foray into the issues and challenges that African women have to contend with in freeing themselves from the oppressive fetters imposed by social, political, and cultural mores that torment them ceaselessly. The hope of redemption lies in this connectedness despite their individual differences, a fact that is outlined by the epigraph from Ayi Kwei Armah’s novel Two Thousand Seasons (East African Pub. House, 1973) in the section on Amandla: “Our vocation / goes against all / unconnectedness. It / is a call to create the / way again, and where / even the foundations / have been assaulted / and destroyed, where / restoration has been / made impossible, simply / to create the way.”

It is pertinent to mention here that LĂ©onora Miano moved to France as a student in 1991, where she adopted the French language as a medium to give expression to her creative endeavors. In the manner of Chinua Achebe, Miano intuitively chose the language of the colonizer to ascertain her African identity. Going against the norms of assimilation that demanded forsaking one’s own cultural roots, Miano, unlike many Francophone-African writers, opted to ground her concerns in clearing the mist of anonymity that shrouded the “dark” continent. While African-American writers celebrate “Black is Beautiful”, it is heartening to see Francophone African writers beginning to proclaim to the world the innate beauty of Africa in terms of both natural and human resources.

Miano’s statement that she “thinks and writes” in French brings into the limelight the credit that must go to Gila Walker for translating Torment of Twilight into English with obvious expertise. The powerful and lucid passages cited from the translated version amply show that not much has been lost in the process of translation. On the contrary, Walker’s aesthetically beautiful renderings will win for Miano a hugely enlarged audience in comparison to those who read her in the French original. The context and the content of this novel are bound to draw both lay readers and scholars who agree with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., that “injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” 

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Nibir K. Ghosh was a Senior Fulbright Fellow at the University of Washington, Seattle, USA, in 2003–2004, and is currently UGC Emeritus Professor of English at Agra College, Agra, India. He is chief editor of Re-Markings, an India-based international journal of English Letters in its twenty-second year of publication. He has authored or edited fifteen books, including Calculus of Power: Modern American Novel (Creative Books, 1997), Multicultural America: Conversations with Contemporary Authors (Unistar, 2005), W. H. Auden: Therapeutic Fountain (Raj Publications, 2010), Rabindranath Tagore: The Living Presence (Author Press, 2012), Gandhi and His Soulforce Mission (Author Press, 2014), and Beyond Boundaries: Reflections of Indian and U.S. Scholars (iUniverse, 2007). His most recent works include Mirror from the Indus: Essays, Tributes and Memoirs (Author Press, 2020) and, with Dr. Sunita Ghosh, Republic of Words: Conversations with Creative Minds from Around the Globe (Author Press, 2022).

https://www.asymptotejournal.com/criticism/leonora-miano-twilight-of-torment-i-melancholy/