A nameless prisoner stands naked, trembling with fear. The place is Guantanamo Bay, the question foremost in his mind: “How did it come to this?”.
While that is undoubtedly the question of our time, it’s one that been asked at many times and in many places before: Japan 1945, India 1947, Pakistan 1982, USA 2001. The four sections of Shamsie novel are devoted to the momentous events of those times and the fear and helpless fury of the innocent trapped in the anonymous tide of history. People are reduced to symbols or labels without reference to the details: a man in an orange jumpsuit, an atom bomb survivor, a partitionee, a Muslim, a mujahideen, a mercenary, a traitor ….
Shamsie, however, subverts that view with her story of Hiroko, the Japanese woman, who having survived the atom bomb at Nagaski, spends the rest of her life moving from country to country – Japan, India, Pakistan – fleeing the possibility of a repeat experience. Ironically she finally seeks refuge in the country that destroyed her life in 1945 and is about to do so again in the aftermath of 2001.
Make no mistake. Hiroko and the members of her post-war family will challenge the absolutes of the western world view, at times with a breathtaking deftness. A single sentence and I’m questioning the accepted wisdom re the atom bomb attacks on Japan. What about contemporary prejudices – have I been corrupted by anti-Islamic propaganda and if so, how far?
Which is not to say that the west is the empire of evil and the east its antithesis. Questions of both sides are raised, subtly through the story line, not through didactism. One of the most brutal scenes is when Raza, Hiroko’s son, is rejected by a Pakistani girl because he is of mixed-race; he’s not Pak (pure), and may be damaged-goods because of his mother’s nuclear past. Stamped as an outsider, this blow determines his life course and sends him rushing to the dangerous people who will accept him as one of their own …. even though he is not.
The novel is full of such paradox. Estrangements and betrayals as much as part of friendship as of emnity. The body language of a concerned father misconstrued and he is shot dead. The retrieving of a cricket ball interpreted as a signal to an assassin. This latter incident forcing me to put the book down for a couple of days as I was consumed with Hiroko’s fury at a world in which individuals cannot live untouched by its malign politics.
This same incident signals a change in pace and tone – the novel moving from literary fiction to political thriller as events accelerate towards the capture of the prisoner seen in the prologue. With no distance in time, argumentation becomes more overt and emotive as events remain raw and unresolved. Unfortunately the plotting becomes slightly unfeasible.
Since finishing the novel, I’ve heard that there’s an intertextual layer that eluded me on the first reading. The final section , entitled The Speed Necessary to Replace Loss, a nod at Ondaatje’s The English Patient; the character, Kim Burton, whose father grieves for his lost Indian childhood, is so named as a tribute to Kipling, and there are apparently Forstian elements in play.
Such intertextuality signalling Shamsie’s clear ambitions for the novel. Well-placed ambitions, I’d agree. Like the shadows burnt on Hiroko’s back, this novel will not be erased. Expect to be talking about it for years to come.
You enjoyed it then?
I’m afraid I didn’t think it was that great. I thought that Kamilia Shamsie tried to do too much in one novel, leading to a book that felt like she was just trying to squeeze an unrealistic number of historic events into one person’s life.
There were lots of important moral messages and symbolism in this book, but they were given precedent over plot and characterisation.
It’s probably a contender for the Orange prize this year though.
Having only read two so far, what do you think it’s chances of winning are?
“There were lots of important moral messages and symbolism in this book, but they were given precedent over plot and characterisation.”
That’s interesting – I’m of the opposing view but that may be because I came to this after a recent reading “Midnight’s Children”. I felt Shamsie’s touch in this regard was lighter andcertainly more lyrical. The novel always remained accessible.
The only time things went awry were in that last section when the thrillery elements stretched the plot past the point of credibility. Monkey suits? Soft toys as road kill?
Even so, it’s much better than past winners. I’m thinking particularly of Half of a Yellow Sun which I found mediocre. As for this year, no comment, I still have 4 of the shortlist to read.
I’ve just finished reading ‘Midnight’s Children’ today! Salman Rushdie is in another league when it comes to symbolism! Midnight’s Children was into the realm of fantasy, whereas I though Shamsie’s book was supposed to be based in reality. Her book was a lot lighter, but the fact it came across as more real meant that it had a lot less room to manoeuvre. She was trying to put across a message, but forcing the same woman to be present in Nagasaki and post 9/11 America just stretched it a bit too far – by doing this she lost credibility in her story. I also felt that most of the characters never really came to life. It was missing the detail, and warmth needed for me to empathise with them. Only the first chapter managed to capture any emotion for me.
I think we have very different taste in books – I’ve only just started Half of a Yellow Sun, but I think I’m going to love it. It’s great that we can analyse the same book in such different ways though!
Picador is sending me a copy anytime, and now after your review, I’m really anxious to read it!
I am inspired to read this both by your comments, Lizzy, and by the Jackie’s response above. I am also shallow enough to be inspired by an attractive cover!! I adored The English Patient, so will look out for connections with that – thanks for the advance info, I sometimes spot such things and sometimes need a nudge! Have added it to the TBR list, anyway. I like the idea of a survivor of Nagasaki being a sort of comment(ator) on 9/11 by way of the intervening years – I think that’s what fiction can do well, to explore responses to such events and the relationships between them, and challenge and fuel our thinking. I also like the idea that it changes pace and tone – Shamsie sounds from your review like a writer who is doing something creative and consciously literary, which is inspiring – too much contemporary writing is just ‘there’, it doesn’t do anything, and is mediocre as a result.
There’s nothing shallow about being seduced by an attractive dust jacket. It happens to me all the time!
Interesting that you mention Half of a Yellow Sun, which I really did not like at all. Burnt Shadows is much better than that but my least favourite of this year’s Orange Prize short list. I still need to come back to it (last two sections), and have half of The Wilderness yet to go, but Burnt Shadows comes quite far behind the rest for me. Perhaps the last two sections will save it, but from what I’ve read on the blogs, I don’t think they will.
Please view the new page of Kamila Shamsie on Facebook. Check this out:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Kamila-Shamsie/91849702726?v=wall&viewas=1017950542
Thanks, Kamila,
The novel is absolutely phenomenon. It has great message dealing with globalization. Being a passionate for Comparative study, I would like to compare the novel with Jane Austin so Human Relationship is concerned. So far thematic approach is concerned; this can be really compared with Mother Courage and Her Children
Thanks, Kamila,
The novel, Burnt Shadow is absolutely phenomenon. It has great message dealing with globalization. Being a passionate for Comparative study, I would like to compare the novel with Jane Austin so Human Relationship is concerned. So far thematic approach is concerned; this can be really compared with Mother Courage and Her Children