J.G. Farrell The Siege of Krishnapur. (1973)

Sieges are often thought of as events that took place long ago and far away, in Medieval castles in foreign lands.  The Siege of Krishnapur is certainly geographically remote from Farrell’s own birthplace of Liverpool, set as it is in the fictional town of Krishnapur in the British Indian empire, but it is not historically removed from the present day.  Having based the fictional tale upon the very real events of the Indian Rebellion of 1857, Farrell explores the concept of the siege and uses the novel as a metaphor for the assault on the ideology of colonialism, which was well advanced by the time he was writing. 

Krishnapur is a quiet outpost of the British Indian Empire, where the class system is rigidly enforced and the British subjects attempt to recreate a “Little Britain” in India.  The Collector is the de facto chief of the colony and becomes concerned that the Indian sepoys may be planning a mutiny, much to the ridicule of the British military around him.  The Collector’s fears are proven to be justified however and the residents of the garrison quickly barricade themselves in to the compound.  They have to cope with ever increasing privations, as a result of dwindling food and other supplies, which leave them squabbling among themselves as they attempt to maintain their petty social hierarchies.  It isn’t just the residents who are under siege – the British class system is as well.  Farrell ridicules his characters for trying to preserve their class structures while they have nothing to eat but at the same time displays little sympathy for alternative societal structures: he portrays the Chartist Magistrate as unsympathetic and callous towards his fellows.  Farrell seems to convey little in the way of empathy for any of his characters and consequently it is hard for the reader to like them; Fleury the poet is uselessly detached from reality, Dr Dunstaple is more concerned about his professional rivalry with Dr McNab than he is with curing his ever-increasing list of patients and Lucy, the colony’s “fallen woman” is ridiculous as she holds a tea salon in the rubble of the garrison’s dining room. 

There are a number of metaphors for the destruction of supposed progress; the Great Exhibition at the Crystal Palace in London is frequently mentioned as a beacon of civilisation and modernity.  The Collector owns a number of gadgets and prototypes that he acquired there of which he is extremely proud; however these all ultimately end up being used as ballast to shore up the siege defences or as ammunition for the garrison’s cannons.  In this Farrell suggests that for all the supposed intellectual superiority of the British and for the technological progress that they attempted to impose on their Indian subjects, none of this would ultimately leave a meaningful legacy.

Farrell’s war saga is darkly humorous in places; the ridiculousness of the women of the garrison fighting over where they will sleep in the former billiard room, the absurdity of Fleury attempting to demonstrate his military prowess in order to impress the attractive Louise Dunstaple and the description of the ephemera loaded into the cannon would be inherently ridiculous if the situation for the garrison wasn’t so bleak.  Farrell revels in the absurd processes and protocols of the Empire, exposing its pretensions and making them appear ridiculous.  Even the ending demonstrates just how ignorant and out of touch the British are in their rule over their Indian subjects.

Farrell was posthumously awarded the Lost Booker Prize for Troubles  in 2010, a novel that was published three years prior to this one, and The Siege of Krishnapur can be seen as another work that discusses the disintegration of empire.  Farrell wrote at a time when many former British colonies had either gained their independence or were emerging from postcolonial struggles and the novel is undoubtedly a product of a time when the British Empire was being thoroughly re-examined by people who were uncomfortable with its questionable past.  The Siege of Krishnapur is, for me, shocking in the portrayal of the complete confidence of the British protagonists in their right to oppress and rule over their Indian subjects; the Magistrate, for example, although a Chartist and sympathiser with the rights of Workers, does not believe that these rights should be extended to Indian citizens.

As a novel, The Siege of Krishnapur is gripping and entertaining in equal measure, a good war yarn for those who like that sort of thing, but is also a darkly humorous and very sad story with a strong message.  Like a number of the other Booker winners I’ve read so far, it demonstrates the dreadful consequences of one people’s attempt to subjugate another and the unravelling of imposed social structures as these consequences play out.  The novel uses the siege as a microcosm of the besieged concept of empire and the notion that it is acceptable for one people to impose their norms, values and beliefs upon another.  As we continue to see British troops dying in far-flung corners of our world, Farrell’s message is as relevant today as it ever was.

Gay Marriage

Cardinal Keith O'Brien's article in today's Daily Telegraph is another sad example of how some senior members of the UK's religious establishment wish to prevent LGBT people from gaining the same rights as our heterosexual counterparts.  Whether one holds religious views or not, it is impossible to deny that religious leaders hold positions of intellectual authority for some in contemporary society. As such, I believe that they have a responsibility to ensure that any publicly expressed views are not damaging to any particular person or group.  In continuing to deny that LGBT people deserve the right to get married, some religious leaders are effectively legitimising homophobia, by telling their adherents that it is acceptable to discriminate against LGBT people.  By saying that civil partnerships are enough for us and by denying us the right to full civil marriage, O'Brien is saying that LGBT people deserve to be treated as second class citizens.

When civil partnerships were first introduced in 2004, these were a tentative step in the right direction but the legislation did not go far enough.  There is a division of church and state in the United Kingdom so all weddings must have a civil ceremony included (whether or not a religious ceremony is also conducted).  Whether people want LGBT people to be able to have religious marriage ceremonies or not (which is a separate but related argument), it is hard to understand why the previous Labour government baulked at introducing full civil marriage for LGBT people and instead permitted the introduction of a watered down "civil partnership" instead.  If they intended to give us civil partnership rights, why not call it civil marriage?  Because the religious lobby in the UK believe (unjustly) that they possess the monopoly on marriage.  The fact that a religious ceremony is not a requirement for marriage shows this to be untrue.  Civil partnerships ARE civil marriages in all but name, but the name is the most important part of all.  By not allowing us to get married, we have been told that we deserve equality but not the same equality as straight people.  You can get civil partnered, but you can't get married, say the religious establishment.  This is discrimination of the worst kind.  LGBT people should be allowed the full rights to marry one another and heterosexuals should be allowed to civil partner one another if they so wish.

Cardinal O'Brien's other arguments show that he doesn't even believe that we deserve civil partnership.  His statement that civil partnerships are "harmful to the physical, mental and spiritual wellbeing of those involved" is patronising and deeply offensive.  Has he asked any of those people in civil partnerships whether they feel harmed as a result of being able to publicly register their relationship and love for one another, as well as being able to gain all the legal, tax and pensions rights that straight couples had always held and which had been denied to us for so long?  He is also eager to maintain the promotion of institutionalised homophobia in schools.  School is a terrible time for many young LGBT or questioning people, with many suffering terrible bullying and some even committing suicide as a result of this.  Despite this, O'Brien shows a singular lack of Christian compassion by stressing his opposition to teaching children that homosexuality is, shock horror, normal (I realise that no-one is truly "normal", I use it here to define homosexuality as not being deviant).

His question "what will happen to the teacher who wants to tell pupils that marriage can only mean - and has only ever meant - the union of a man and woman?" further exposes his deeply homophobic rhetoric.  For starters, the concept of marriage does not inherently imply that it has to be between a man and a woman.  There are other forms of marriage practised in societies around the globe, so that argument falls down immediately.  Secondly, and more importantly, no teacher should be expressing prejudiced personal views on these matters to their impressionable young charges; they should be challenging all forms of bigotry and prejudice and allowing their pupils to learn in an environment of mutual respect for all, regardless of race, gender, sexuality, religion or other difference.  Any teacher who is teaching their pupils that marriage is, and can only be, between a man and a woman is perpetuating homophobic stereotypes and has no place in a classroom.

O'Brien subsequently hypocritically invokes the UN Convention on Human Rights to defend his homophobia, stating that it defines marriage as being between a man and a woman and that denying this would be "a grotesque subversion of a universally accepted human right".  The fact that this definition is not "universally accepted" does not appear to matter to him.  Not only does he refuse to acknowledge the possibility that this document should be changed to reflect a more modern reality, he also effectively defends the rights of heterosexual couples to marry at the expense of denying the same right to LGBT people.  In my view, when one group invokes human rights to deny another group the same rights, their hypocrisy has cost them the argument.  The idea that "marriage has always existed in order to bring men and women together so that the children born of those unions will have a mother and a father" is also out of step with current social trends. More and more families are having children out of wedlock.  These children still have a mother and a father - does O'Brien believe that their familial relationship is worth less because they're not married?  What about married couples without children - is their marriage worthless as a consequence of being without issue?  Who says we need a mother and a father anyway?  Families come in all shapes and sizes - single-parent, two fathers, two mothers and more, as well as the standard nuclear family which O'Brien believes to be the norm.  I do not believe that these familial relationships are worth any less because the parents involved are not one man and one woman who are married, and it is downright offensive to them to suggest otherwise.  O'Brien's belief that "the stability and well-being which this [marriage] provides... cannot be provided by a same-sex couple" is also wrong.  Ask Dan Gillespie-Sells (from the band The Feeling) whether he had a happy childhood with his two mothers, ask Charlie Condou and his male partner whether they are bringing up their children in a loving, stable environment, ask the same of Elton John and David Furnish and their son Zachary and I am sure they will all tell you that the idea that LGBT couples cannot bring up children is as ridiculous as it is offensive.

O'Brien continues in his homophobic vein throughout the article, criticising primary schools for having "homosexual fairy stories" (offensive pun intended?) "such as King & King" in their libraries. Giving children access to such sensitively written stories (I love King and King!) which portray loving homosexual relationships shows them at an early age that being gay is normal, and hopefully this will lead to them growing into respectful and loving human beings, who won't differentiate between anyone on the basis of any label.

Cardinal O'Brien has clearly set out his belief that being gay is not normal, that LGBT people do not deserve the same rights as straight people, that children must have a mother and a father if they are to have any hope of growing up happy and that teaching children to show love and respect towards LGBT people is wrong and must be stopped.  By stating at the end of his article that the British government is attempting to "demolish a universally recognised human right" in introducing gay marriage, and that their "intolerance will shame the United Kingdom in the eyes of the world", O'Brien has fundamentally misinterpreted the direction in which that world is headed.  American Secretary of State Hillary Clinton's speech at the United Nations Human Rights Council in December 2011, when she stated that "Gay rights are human rights", which was applauded, would suggest that there is scope for the UN to change its definition of marriage as stated in Article 16 of the Universal Declaration on Human Rights.  Gay marriages are now performed in 10 countries and are legal in parts of others and this number is growing all the time.  Cardinal O'Brien must realise that the world is changing and that it is now time for him and other senior religious leaders to change with it, or risk losing an entire generation of younger adherents who will no longer see religion as being socially and culturally relevant.

John Berger G. (1972)

As I look over my entries for this blog so far, I don’t believe that enough of my reviews have shown a personal touch.  As a New Year’s resolution I intend to remedy this for all future entries.  I hope that you will enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing them (and hope that I encourage you to read the original books).

I find it very difficult to adequately summarise John Berger’s G.  This may partially be due to the difficulty in categorising John Berger, who can at once be described as a painter, art critic, novelist, essayist and sociologist.  Berger has contributed much to a number of varied fields and his knowledge of multiple subject areas imbues his work.  G. is a sweeping novel that spans genres and at times appears to blur the lines between fiction and fact.

The novel begins in Italy in 1898 and follows the life of the eponymous G. across Europe, as he loves then leaves a succession of women.  Written in the picaresque genre (by definition a novel which follows a rakish character in his or her exploits, such as Don Juan or Daniel Defoe’s Moll Flanders), the narrative at times backs away from G. to focus on the historical or political situation in Europe at the time.  Berger also sometimes breaks from the story completely to discuss abstract concepts with the reader, such as the appreciation of the female form or the expression of love.  At times he uses ‘I’ to break down the barrier between himself and the reader and bring himself into the tale, rather than being a purely incidental third person narrator.  I confess that I found these forays into Berger’s philosophy to be quite distracting from the development of the narrative.  Whether Berger intended for this to be the effect is unclear, but I feel that rather than adding an extra layer of meaning to the work this comes across as baffling in its pretentiousness.

This is an accusation that I would level at the novel as a whole.  The lack of coherence between these breaks and the central tale render the narrative disjointed and unfocussed.  Perhaps if I knew more about artistic theory I might appreciate some of these abstract meditations, but they are incomprehensible to the layman and make the novel seem opaque and inaccessible. 

Other elements of Berger’s story are disappointing.  G.’s tale unfolds at unerringly different paces; Berger at times spends pages describing a single afternoon, building up a truly beautiful descriptive picture of a scene, but then spoils it by rushing crucial elements of the story (G.’s death in particular feels like an after-thought that was hurried along in order to meet a publisher’s deadline).  The sweeping historical viewpoint, while at times interesting, has a didactic air about it which gives Berger the feel of a lecturer attempting to impose his views on his readers rather than independently presenting the narrative.  At times I felt that Berger was attempting to tell me how to think, to convince me that only his world view was the correct one.  I didn’t understand elements of what he was trying to say but I am not the type of person who enjoys having views imposed upon me!

G. is not an unsatisfying read.  If one ignores the frequent deviations from the plot and takes the story at face value, it is fairly entertaining.  I doubt however that this is all that Berger intended for his work and, given the number of awards that it won, I suspect I may have missed something important that critics with greater knowledge than I were able to interpret.  I think that it has all the charm of an epic blockbuster movie; it may be massive in scope and may have won lots of plaudits, but I found it impossible to warm to in the same way as other novels.  G. is not the kind of book that one can curl up with and enjoy; it sees itself as being far too grand for that.