American Literature: Romanticism
 
Student Midterm Samples 2015

midterm assignment

2b. Short Essay: 2b. Choose a previously-read literary text . . .

Hanna Mak

2b. Short Essay: The Postmodern Byronic Hero in Mohsin Hamid’s Moth Smoke

As Salman Rushdie once said, “Vertigo is the conflict between the fear of falling and the desire to fall.” The enduring appeal of the gothic and the Byronic hero archetype is the product of this almost inexplicable conflict within ourselves; a primal attraction to elements within a story that are dark, enigmatic and oftentimes profoundly disturbing. Through the tragic figure of the Byronic hero, the reader is able to safely indulge this predilection. While the character is often brilliant or resourceful, he or she is also frequently a self-destructive, disillusioned iconoclast, and often guards some terrible secret or forbidden love. Daru, the protagonist of Mohsin Hamid’s Moth Smoke, encapsulates all of these traits perfectly—despite their tincture through the updated lens of a Postmodernist Pakistani-American author, who aims not to simply reuse old tropes, but to evoke and play with them deliberately.

The author prepares the reader to anticipate the arc of the Byronic hero almost immediately. Beginning the story with a trial, Daru is implicated in the killing of a child, and our first introduction to the character is as follows: “A hard man with shadowed eyes, manacled, cuffed, disheveled, proud, erect. A man capable of anything and afraid of nothing. Two guards accompany him, and yes, they are brutes, but they would offer scant assurance if this man were not chained. He is the terrible almost-hero of a great story. Tragic, powerful, and dangerous. He alone meets your eyes.” This description occurs in the only section of the book that comes from the perspective of an omniscient narrator; every other chapter is from the perspective of a handful of different characters, including Daru himself. Ultimately, it represents the perspective of the public eye, and differs greatly from the inner knowledge we gain of the main character through the eyes of his friends, his lover, and of himself. In its description, it encapsulates the Byronic hero’s dark, haunted appearance and capable nature, but it fails to represent Daru as he actually is—only with elements of truth. It is an imperfect projection of a criminal that could easily be gleaned from a news outlet or the word-of-mouth condemnation of a stranger that vastly exaggerates his physical strength and savagery. Therefore, while this aspect of the narrative serves to evoke the powerful, culturally recognizable image of the Byronic hero, it also becomes a critique of its accuracy and real-world application.

The novel does not only offer a critique, however. It also deliberately acknowledges the inexorable force of cultural imagery, and subsequently the place that the Byronic hero trope has within the reader’s collective consciousness. For example, somewhat ironically, through the act of emphasizing the discrepancy between public opinion of the hero and the “reality” of the hero that the reader gradually constructs throughout the novel, the Byronic hero archetype is still ultimately reinforced, because it emphasizes Daru’s status as a deeply misunderstood pariah. While the context is changed because the reader knows substantially more about the character’s motivations and his back story than his Romantic predecessor of Magua in the Last of the Mohicans, and must also contend with the Postmodernist dilemma of the chronically unreliable narrator, the characterization still remains intact. Daru further fulfils the archetype because he can readily be characterized as highly intelligent, but self-destructive. Julius Superb, his former economics professor, relates his opinion in an interview: “Daru? Brilliant. Though a bit of a seat-of-the-pants economist. Liked to assert rather than prove. And not the best at handling criticism. …From my experience, Daru is completely crazy. Quick-tempered, oversensitive, inconsistent. But so am I, and I haven’t killed anyone yet.”

Lastly, as further evidence of the Byronic hero archetype, the element of forbidden love is strongly present in the novel—Daru’s affair with his best friend’s wife, the articulate and brutally honest Mumtaz, ultimately plays a major role in his undoing. After being fired from his job at the bank, Daru never manages to find a new job, and gradually loses everything that he has—all while watching his childhood friend, the arrogant yet extremely charismatic Ozi, enjoy every trapping of success due to his powerful family connections. He finds himself connecting with Mumtaz, becoming increasingly obsessed with her in direct proportion to his gradual loss of status. After Ozi discovers them through an open window, however, he frames Daru for the hit-and-run killing of a young boy—a crime for which Ozi was responsible, with an abundance of witnesses—and the trial from the scene at the beginning of the novel concludes at the end with Daru’s conviction and imprisonment.

Where the example of Daru possibly stands apart from his Romantic predecessors is the fact that he has no exemplary foil with whom to contrast his darkness, as did Magua in Last of the Mohicans. Ozi is Daru’s foil only in terms of success and fortune, which he only has access to because of his connections. In fact, true to the novel’s Postmodernist classification, all of the characters are seriously flawed and duplicitous. Ultimately, the novel does portray Daru as a Byronic hero, but does so to the effect of highlighting the structural injustices in Lahore society. The effectiveness of this symbol as a conduit for the message of the author, however, demonstrates the enduring power that it continues to wield within the modern imagination and across multiple cultures.