LITR / CRCL 5734: Colonial & Postcolonial Literature

Sample Student Final Exam 2003

Emily B. Masterson
Final Exam
LITR 5734
Dr. Craig White
June 30, 2003

Looking at Colonial and Post Colonial Texts: A Societal Desire for Purity

            In colonial and postcolonial literature, a complex desire for purity of all kinds (cultural, ethnic and national included) seems to be a natural progression in the struggle between the western self and the other.  Because the “self and other define each other and the self gets its identity from the other,” a sort of anti-contamination sentiment arises in both worlds (White 6/24/03). 

            Reconciling an invading culture with its colonized culture seems to cause a torrent of literature to spring forth from both sides.  Derek Walcott in his poem “Koenig’s River,” depicts Koenig, a confused missionary who is poling up a river “past the remnants of the previous colonizers,” and in his maddened state, questions the validity of his core beliefs (Petersen 1).  Walcott threads images of contamination through vivid descriptions:

Staying aboard, he saw/up in a thick meadow, a sand-coloured mule,/untethered, with no harness, and no signs/ of habitation round the ruined factory wheel/ locked hard in rust […].  Then on some sandbar, a mirage ahead:/ fabric of muslin sails, spiderweb rigging,/ a schooner, foundered on black river mud […].  (Walcott 380-381)

Walcott’s lament is the echo of a land whose innocence and cultural purity have been stripped, replaced with western culture’s ideas of progress, which coincidentally, lies foundered, ruined and discarded.  Walcott’s sentiments are not unique—the four textbooks discussed during the latter portion of this semester also address a desire for all forms of purity through a dialoguing of themes: that of social contamination, and so-called hybridity gatekeepers.  

            The fear of social contamination seems to be a natural one—because the self and the other draw identities from each other, a defined line of separation is a form of security for both sides.  Of course we must take into consideration that the self may become the other, depending on whether we study from the point of view of the colonizer or the colonized.  In A Passage to India, Miss Quested addresses the Collector, Mr. Turton:  “I only want those Indians whom you come across socially—as your friends” (Forster 26).  E.M. Forster cleverly pens Mr. Turton’s response:

“Well, we don’t come across them socially,” he said laughing.  “They’re full of all the virtues, but we don’t and it’s now eleven-thirty, and too late to go into reasons”  (26).  

Mr. Turton may represent the majority of colonizing forces who hold fast to concepts of social separation, but are unable or unwilling to rationalize such behavior.  The English must keep themselves apart from the other to maintain a clear identity reinforced by other westerners. 

            This same desire for social purity is also evident in the other, not just the English.  Towards the end of his book, Forster describes an animated Aziz whose declaration concludes the final chapter:

“India shall be a nation!  No foreigners of any sort!  Hindu and Moslem and Sikh and all shall be one!” And Aziz in an awful rage danced this way and that, now knowing what to do, cried: “Down with the English anyhow. […] We may hate one another but we hate you most. […] (361). 

While Aziz’s desire for social purity is derived from the oppressed state of his country, it is interesting to note that his own cultural and religious ideas of contamination within his own country of India are readjusted to combat the threat of the English.  It seems that nation-bound selves and others may become one when faced with an invasive cultural other, in this case, the English colonizers.  In this way, Aziz resists social contamination from outside invaders; this act is in direct opposition to God of Small Things’ “untouchables” (Roy 73).

            In Arundhati Roy’s novel, Paravan untouchable Vellya Paapen fears for his strange younger son, rationalizing that “it was nothing he had said or done,” but Velutha’s “lack of hesitation,” and “the quiet way he offered suggestions without appearing to rebel” (73).  In fact, Roy states clearly that these qualities “were perfectly acceptable, perhaps even desirable, in Touchables” but, “construed as insolence” in a Paravan (73).

According to April Davis’ 2003 dialogue, “Velutha does not allow his social status to completely determine his identity. Therefore, he does not act the way in which society expects him to act.”  April goes on to say that “this inspires strong emotions in all those he comes in contact with.”  Velutha, shows too many traits of the self, and so blurs the distinction between himself and his “betters.”  He walks a dangerous tightrope of social boundaries and inevitably, the self must curtail the other or risk a crisis of identity. 

For Roy, conflict does come as a result of colonizing influences, but the primary source of friction is between “Touchables” and untouchables within the same cultural boundaries.  Roy’s touchables are the selves who must diligently fight a battle to maintain their superiority on the hierarchical ladder, while denying their own similarities to the untouchables they despise.  Their quest for social purity is one of almost an individual nature—they are able to find comfort and security in their caste placement by continually reasserting the untouchables meager societal station.   

For Daniel Defoe’s character in Robinson Crusoe, social purity is just as vital.  Robinson Crusoe perhaps most closely resembles Mr. Turton in Passage to India, who enforces social rules and resists contamination, but does little to question the value of such a belief system.  Crusoe’s distaste for social contamination is evident throughout the entire work, but especially striking during his account of Friday’s appearance:

The colour of his skin was not quite black, but very tawny; and yet not of an ugly yellow nauseous tawny, as the Brasilians and Virginians, and other natives of America are; but of a bright kind of a dun olive colour, that had in it something very agreeable, tho’ not very easy to describe […]. (Defoe 208-209)

This is a rather strange assessment of a man whom Crusoe never allows to be an equal; yet, interestingly, Crusoe is pleased that Friday is not a hybrid—he respects Friday’s pleasing aesthetic qualities that are indicative of Friday’s purity.  As Crusoe’s relationship with his new companion progresses, it becomes obvious that this respect cannot bridge Crusoe’s greater issues against social contamination—almost immediately, Crusoe instructs Friday to call him “master” (209). 

            In yet another example of Crusoe’s social obsession, Crusoe sends English women to the English inhabitants of the island at the end of the story.  He seems concerned that though miles of ocean separates “his” men from their native England, the purity of his culture should be preserved by taking pains to discourage pairing of white westerners and those with darker skins.  For Crusoe, this sort of pairing would be equivalent to Roy’s pairing of “Touchables” and untouchables.

            In Jamaica Kincaid’s Lucy, Kincaid also weaves themes of social contamination throughout her novel.  Lucy tells readers:

I said goodbye to everything on month before we left.  I would not miss the lake; it stank anyway, and the fish that lived in it were dying from living in it.  I would not miss the long hot days, I would not miss the cool shaded woods, I would not miss the strange birds, I would not miss animals that came out at dusk looking for food—I would not miss anything, for long ago I had decided not to miss anything. (Kincaid 81)

Lucy aggressively resists everything that resembles the western world, Lucy’s other.  She seems afraid that this new world could penetrate her identity, that she might contaminate or further damage herself. 

Not only does Lucy stubbornly reject all things American, but she resists allowing her emotions to become entangled with anyone from America.  When Lucy’s boss Mariah takes Lucy to see daffodils for the first time, Lucy responds, “Mariah, do you realize that at ten years of age I had to learn by heart a long poem about some flowers I would not see in real life until I was nineteen? (30).  Lucy’s coldness toward those who show her affection symbolizes Lucy’s individualism, her bitterness, and her fear of becoming socially enmeshed with a culture that she has always distrusted. 

In all the texts, resistance to contamination is buffered by specific places, objects or people; they are hybridity gatekeepers, institutions or individuals who create distance between the self and the subjected other.  One of the most obvious hybridity gatekeepers takes the form of the Chandrapore Club in Passage to India.  Because Indians are not allowed in the club “even as guests,” the club serves as a physical barrier from social and cultural mixing, a way for the self to maintain a state of purity (Forster 21). 

Besides the club, there are other more subtle ways that the English attempt to remain untainted by the Indians.  On page 40, the Indians are referred to as “shop.”  Classifying the topic of a people group as “shop” allows the self to dehumanize the Indians and thereby keep a level of clean indifference.  Using business as a gatekeeper is also a familiar theme in Roy’s God of Small Things.

Inspector Thomas Matthew’s lack of respect for Ammu is way of keeping another culture at a distance because that culture, or that other, becomes objectified, thereby allowing the self to maintain its purity (Roy 9).  In another sense, morality serves a gatekeeping function because Thomas Matthew is no doubt aware of Ammu’s divorced state and her illegitimate children (9).  The inspector might be able to justify his behavior, using his moral, Christian ideals as a way of pushing Ammu into an untouchable, intolerable category.

Baby Kochamma might be the most developed character who uses her moral ideas as justification for her role as gatekeeper, allowing her to keep her pure notions of herself and other “Touchables:”

Over the din Kochu Maria shouted Vellya Paapen’s story to Baby Kochamma.  Baby Kochamma recognized at once the immense potential of the situation, but immediately anointed her thoughts with unctuous oils. […] She saw it as God’s way of punishing Ammu for her sins […].  She set sail at once.  A ship of goodness ploughing through a sea of sin.” (243)

Baby Kochamma’s past is littered with as many sinful desires as Ammu, yet Baby Kochamma must keep her distance even among another “Touchable,” by doubling the punishment on the “responsible” untouchable.  Sin must not get past Baby Kochamma, or she might not be able to keep her “pure” status in society and in her own mind. 

            On the other hand, much like Lucy, Crusoe is one self against many others.  Because he is only one man on an entire island, Crusoe himself is a kind of purity gatekeeper in his Eden-like environment, making judgements on the few humans he meets and keeping his island pure—out of the hands of cannibals or others unlike himself.  To do this, Crusoe must devalue everyone that is not a westerner; “he treats them all in terms of their commodity value” (Watt 69).  Crusoe’s function as purity gatekeeper is tied closely to the manner in which he perceives other humans who are in “the other” category. 

            According to Ian Watt in “The Rise of the Novel,” Crusoe sells Xury into slavery for sixty pieces of eight, and only regrets this exchange once it seems obvious that Crusoe might have benefited from Xury’s valuable manpower (Watt 69).  Unlike Baby Kochamma, Crusoe’s task as purity gatekeeper is fairly free of complication because of his island situation and because of the time period in which Defoe was writing this novel. 

            Perhaps Crusoe most closely resembles Lucy, who like Crusoe, is her own purity gatekeeper in her self-inflicted emotional isolation.  Lucy is a single other in a world of selves, attempting to maintain her emotional and cultural purity.  Lucy tells her readers, “My actions did not create a scandal; instead, my choir mistress only wondered if all their efforts to civilize me over the years would come to nothing in the end” (Kincaid 135).  Lucy’s resistance is as much to protect her world as to protect her identity from being corrupted by a colonizing influence. 

            Unlike Ammu, Lucy does not have a Baby Kochamma to protect her from contamination.  According to Natalie Martinez in a class discussion on June 24th, 2003, “Lucy demonstrates characteristics of modernity and individualism” (Martinez 6/24).  She must be her own protector, her own provider.  It is this individualistic-gatekeeping quality in Lucy that is so admirable, and as the book closes, so inevitably tragic. A self protecting itself from the other, or even an other protecting itself from the self, seems to be fighting the wrong battle, a battle that will eventually be lost in a melding of two separate parts.

In these bids for maintaining purity of identity, it seems that there is evidence that resisting change and hybridity is a fruitless endeavor.  At one point Robinson Crusoe acquiesces:    

As for my face, the colour of it was really no so moletta-like as one might expect from a man not at all careful of it, and living within nine or ten degrees of the equinox.  My beard I had once suffered to grow till it was about a quarter of a yard long; […] I had cut it pretty short, except what grew on my upper lip, which I had trimmed into a large pair of Mahometan whiskers, such as I had seen worn by some Turks who I saw at Sallee […]. (Defoe 158-159)

Defoe, who has mercilessly judged others by skin tone and appearance, seemingly admits that the gulf between self and other had shrunk by measures; until Crusoe has become a kind of hybrid himself, English by birth, but by wealth of island-given experience, a new kind of man who is less marked by his birthplace. 

            In other books, we have a sense that these issues of purity are not simply resolved; selves and others have pushed opposing sides away for centuries and will continue to do so; in turn, both sides will continue to provide us literature that may ease our transition into a culture marked by hybridity and difference.  It is our duty, to realize that our roles are of both selves and others.  As the world becomes smaller decade by decade, our phobia of hybridity and contamination should decrease as well as we learn more about those who seem so much different than us. 

 

 

LOG

start: 4:50 pm

stop: 5:30 pm

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40 min

 

start: 7:00 pm

stop: 9:40 pm

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2 hr. 40 min

 

TOTAL TIME: 3 hrs. 20 min.