Colonizer vs. Colonized: Where Are the Battle Lines Really Drawn? The great 20th century writer Joan Didion once stated, “We tell ourselves stories in order to live” (185). Even more pronounced than the fascination of a narrative, are the characters that make up that narrative. It is my belief that much can be learned from the characters authors create and many times, after careful analysis, we find ourselves strangely attracted to these characters because of the common beliefs and ideals we share. Coming into my first semester of Graduate classes, my working knowledge of Colonial and Post Colonial literature has been limited, but in a short time I have become intrigued by the knowledge I have garnered about the subject. Throughout our discussions of Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe, Jamaica Kincaid’s “A Small Place” and Lucy, and Rudyard Kipling’s “The Man Who Would Be King”, I have come to discover how each of the protagonists in these stories epitomize our course objectives through the similarities and differences they share. While the authors who created these texts wrote generations apart, their beliefs, ideals, and storylines do not clash as much as one would expect. While there are connections to be made between the colonizer and the colonized, this course has enabled me to realize how incredibly arrogant and naïve I have been in the understanding of America as a world “Empire”. Based on the knowledge I have been exposed to in a few short weeks, my predominant struggle has been identifying how America fits into the context of the discussion as a world Empire, and where this leaves me as a 21st century American. In looking at each of these texts individually, one will find that they come into dialogue together. In Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe, we find a character whose passion lies in the heart of adventure. Much like the English rule he descended from, Crusoe shares the desire to “see the world”. While he seemingly would be content and happy living the middle class lifestyle his parents desire of him, Crusoe comments that, “I could not be content now, but I must go and leave the happy view I had of being a rich and thriving man in my new plantation, only to pursue a rash and immoderate desire of rising faster than the nature of the thing admitted; and thus I cast myself down again into the deepest gulp of human misery that ever a man fell into, or perhaps would be consistent with life and a state of health in the world” (58). This lack of contentment ultimately leads to Crusoe’s predicament on the island. While he has numerous opportunities to repent and rebuke his adventuresome lifestyle, he neglects to do so and, in turn, takes his “colonizing” spirit abroad. What Crusoe finds, on two separate occasions, is that the life he builds is not unlike the lifestyle that his parents originally desire for him. He owns crops, cattle, and is in charge of his own little piece of the world. The only thing missing is the comfort of his friends and family. Crusoe’s choices help us to identify him as a cutting edge, modern protagonist. Defoe was able to create in Crusoe a character that we in the 21st century can still relate to. How many individuals in their younger years (at age 18 like Crusoe) do not desire to set out on their own and create a new life, a life that is their own? It is human nature to rebuke our parents and desire the creation of something made entirely of our own being. In doing so, we typically find ourselves doing precisely what our parents desired of us in the first place. While we love to be “modern” in the sense that we seek out our fortunes in the world, we tend to resolve to become traditional again as we default to the values and principles instilled in us by our parents. Crusoe comes to this realization as well: “I was coming into the very middle station, or upper degree of low life, which my father had advised me to before; and which if I resolved to go on with, I might as well ha’done this as well in England among my friends, as ha’gone 5,000 miles off to do it among strangers and savages” (56). We find that while Defoe published his novel in 1719, his protagonist is not unlike Jamaica Kincaid’s in her 1991 novel Lucy. The character (modeled largely after Kincaid herself while growing up in the Caribbean) shares the “rebel” instincts of Crusoe; she desires to rebuke parental control and authority and pursue her own way in the world. While some may argue that Lucy’s circumstances and relationships with her parents are vastly different, we find that the colonizer (Crusoe) and colonized (Lucy) share a striking similarity in their quests for “freedom”. Both characters initially feel that their parents are hindrances to their future. Crusoe’s parents desire to trap him in an upper middle class lifestyle, while Lucy’s parents send her into a state of rage through the decisions they make. Crusoe cannot fathom his family’s contentment with being “average”, not unlike Lucy who cannot fathom her mother marrying a man like her father, whose only desire appears to be “planting his seed” in as many women as he possibly can. While Lucy despises her parents and her past, she makes numerous references to how similar she is to her mother. She comments, “I had spent so much time saying I did not want to be like my mother that I missed the whole story: I was not like my mother-I was my mother” (90). As Crusoe has returned to his “traditional” roots, Lucy finds that establishing her own identity involves being directly tied to her traditional roots; both Crusoe and Lucy eventually pursue dreams of a “better life” in another country, Crusoe on the sea, and Lucy in America. What both protagonists ultimately find is not entirely different: both appear lonely, isolated, and angry about the lack of unfulfilled dreams when their illusions do not become reality in faraway lands. Both the oppressor and the oppressed share a common journey: the quest for freedom. In Rudyard Kipling’s protagonists Daniel Dravot and Peachy Carnehan, we find hints of both Crusoe and Lucy. Dravot and Carnehan are not suppressed by their parents (as they are older, grown men) but rather by the government that used to employ them. We find that even the colonizer can feel “colonized” by the very own government it belongs to. We find this metaphor extends to the British living in America (during the American Revolution) as even they attempt, and ultimately gain, their freedom from the British Empire. Britian’s own people many times want to escape the rule of the crown. Dravot and Carnehan are loveable characters in the sense that we can relate to their desire for something better (much as we can symphonize with Lucy and Crusoe). They are middle class, former British soldiers, who are left with nothing after the government that formerly employed them leaves them for dead when their service is concluded. When Dravot uses the powerful words “We are not little men, and we have decided that India isn’t big enough for such as us” (58) he is expressing his desire for escape. India is not small by any stretch of the imagination (in terms of land mass), but we find that even large terrain can feel like a cage when one’s imagination and desires are not allowed to roam free. The contrast is that when these two characters finally reach Kafiristan, they ultimately use the foundation and traditional values instilled in them by “mother” England to set up and ultimately rule (for a brief time) their “kingdom”. The training of the army, the tactical approach to war, and the desire to be “kings” are relative to Dravot and Carnehan’s experiences as sons of England. Just like Lucy and Crusoe, these protagonists resort back to their “parentage” to establish their own identities. These protagonists find life coming full circle. Each demonstrates his modernity in the pursuit of his own way of life before each becomes what he once attempted to escape from. We come to relate to Paul and Lucy’s conversation in which they establish, “this search for freedom was part of the whole human situation…on their way to freedom some people find riches, some people find death” (129). Each of these characters exemplifies the Oedipal Conflict of “killing the parent, but honoring them at the same time”. On their journeys, each of these characters “learn the lesson” on his own after denying parental advice and instruction. While many attempt to argue that the colonizer and colonized are vastly different, the dialogue between texts seems to suggest that they are very similar. While there are universal similarities in the characters, we find that differences come to light through their relationships with other people. Crusoe tends to assume he is “king and master” of his new domain simply because he is who he is (an Englishman). “I was Lord of the whole manor; or if I pleased, I might call myself king or emperor over the whole country which I had possession of” (139). Crusoe’s dialogue with Friday is anything but humanizing in many ways. It is naturally assumed that Friday, due to Crusoe saving him, is instantly obliged and endeared to Crusoe for the rest of his life. Friday plays into this assumption through his subjective actions “And then he laid down again, kissed the ground, and laid his head upon ground, and taking me by the foot, set my foot upon his head; this it seems was in token of swearing to be my slave forever” (207). Friday’s actions could have merely been his way of saying “thank you” to Crusoe, but Robinson immediately makes the assumption that Friday desires to serve him FOREVER. Furthermore, Crusoe immediately takes the liberty of naming Friday after the day on which he saved him; he never stops to consider asking Friday if he has a name, he immediately assumes the freedom of naming him. It is in this way that we see the self and other displayed; Crusoe tends to treat Friday more like his object than his friend. I am not resolved, however, to believe that this is the only relationship the two shared. In a sense, I am not prepared to make the statement that the colonizer can only be seen as a “villain”. Crusoe constantly refers to Friday as “my man” (210) which can be construed to mean his “servant”, or it could potentially be a reference to Friday being Crusoe’s companion. One might consider the words as a form of endearment rather than a term of possession. Crusoe states on the same page, “We came back to our castle” (210). Crusoe has extended his possession of the castle to include ownership by Friday. It is not customary that servants in England had the privilege of being extended co-ownership of the castle by the king. I believe this is a classic example of Crusoe desiring to be an equal to Friday in the only way he knows. Because of his traditional European upbringing, he extends a hand of fellowship in the only subtle way he knows how. Later in the novel, Crusoe even comes to be jealous at the thought of Friday leaving him “While my jealousy of him lasted…I found everything he said was so honest and innocent, I could find nothing to nourish my suspicion” (225). Moreover, we find Crusoe commenting, “I would never send him away from me, if he was willing to stay with me”. Crusoe demonstrates that Friday’s relationship to him is a mutual one and that he is under no obligation to stay; it suggests that Crusoe would be willing to allow Friday to depart from him, though he would always desire to be in constant companionship with him. While Crusoe is arrogant and demeaning in many aspects of his relationship with Friday, he is not entirely reducing the relationship to a dehumanizing one. Crusoe exhibits more love toward his companion (as much as he is capable of feeling), than he exercises toward his wife later in the novel. Peachy Carnehan and Daniel Dravot display the same European ignorance in their attempts to become kings of Kafiristan. They believe they have a certain entitlement because they are who they are. It is assumed, by both parties, that they will “have their way” with the natives because they are British. They assume that they will have to teach the Kafir people the ways of warfare and to “become an army”. It is never thought that these individuals might already possess the knowledge and understanding of fighting. It is ironic that these individuals (Kafirs) already possess the knowledge of the Freemasons, which, in reality, places them on an equal playing field with the two British soldiers. Daniel and Peachy fail to make the comparison of equality however, as we see their demeanor, attitude, and language to be very condescending towards the natives. In the end, Peachy and Daniel are discovered and ultimately “kicked out” of Kafiristan (one through death; the other through exile). We have the ultimate experience of colonization (the first wave of migration) meeting post-colonization (the second wave of migration) in the same story. If we press the issue further, we even come to realize the third and final wave of migration is exemplified in the character of Rudyard Kipling. While Kipling was born in India, he spent his entire life searching for a national identity. This search ultimately leads us to brand him a cosmopolitan, or “citizen of the world”. While we have the relationship of the colonizer and colonized in this story, I cannot believe the relationship that exists between Carnehan, Dravot, and the Kafirs is entirely dehumanizing. While there are degrees of self and other, and the British soldiers do, at times, treat these individuals like objects, there is the attempt by Dravot to marry a Kafir girl. If he were to do this, he would be erasing certain aspects of the relationship between the colonizer and the colonized by making a Kafir equal to him through the mixing of bloodlines. Dravot is willing, partly out of greed and partly out of desire, to erase part of the boundaries that are drawn between his kingship and his people by marrying a native girl. The view of the oppressed (the colonized) is slightly different, though not entirely. Lucy desires her freedom from British and parental rule, but still manages to establish a relationship with her employer Mariah, a relationship that eventually turns into a friendship. There are moments of turmoil in the relationship between the two, but ultimately they realize their interdependency. While Mariah would be deemed the “colonizer” in their relationship (thus representing the enemy), Lucy grows to learn that Mariah is a highly ignorant colonizer; she does not necessarily view their relationship through the lens of “master-slave”. Mariah attempts to treat Lucy with respect and dignity, though she many times offends her because she is naïve to the pain Lucy has experienced. Initially, Lucy views this naivety with anger and hostility, but comes to love Mariah for her willingness to view her as an equal individual. In time, Lucy comes to view their relationship outside the scope of “master-slave”. In time, she learns that life is not always about being suppressed by those in positions of power. She discovers independence and learns to find contentment in her freedom. Lucy’s initial rage is, in my mind, entirely excusable. She grows up in a country where there is no freedom and no opportunity to learn and grow; we can understand entirely why she would demonstrate the same rage her author felt when writing the essay “A Small Place”. Jamaica Kincaid was certainly angry in her writing and this anger is felt, in small degrees, through the character of Lucy. Kincaid states that she “Met the world through England, and if the world wanted to meet me, it would have to do so through England” (94). Needless to say, I can understand the pain and anger felt by the colonized and have come to discover a newfound respect for the character of Lucy as she overcomes this emotional rage to create a new life in a new place. As a protagonist, it can be argued that Lucy can be compared to the bildungsromans of Victorian literature as she transitions from a young adolescent to a woman in the course of 164 pages. Analyzing each of these novels, as well as their protagonists, leads me to my ultimate question, is America an “empire in denial”? How do we as Americans relate to the terms of colonizer and colonized? I have tossed and turned with these questions in my first few weeks of this course. How could I possibly be related to a group, like the British, who would take over one quarter of the world’s land mass? How can I be discussed in the same sentences with people like Alexander the Great, or Hitler who desired to build massive empires at the cost of destroying any race of people who stood in their way? I have been looking for black and white in a place that black and white fail to exist; there is simply gray. In analyzing Crusoe, Lucy, Daniel and Peachy, we find that the lines tend to blur when discussing colonialism and post-colonialism. We find that levels of ignorance and naivety exist in the colonizer, but that the colonizer is not without feeling or emotions for those he is colonizing. Many times there is a sincere desire for a relationship between the colonizers and colonized outside the obvious fact that without someone to exercise dominance over, it is unfulfilling to be “king”. We are also able to discover that the colonized can overcome the rage and anger experienced by years in “captivity”. Lucy manages to become a heroine in the sense that she is not bound or restricted by the oppresser and comes to understand that not all “white” people fit the image of a colonizer. While degrees of ignorance exist in all who have never felt the sting of oppression, not all individuals who fall into the category of the oppressor actually possess the desire to oppress. Where does America as a nation fit into the context of this discussion? Am I, as an American, guilty of being a “colonizer”? We are charged guilty in both regards. Somewhere between the “black” of guilt and the “white” of innocence, we find ourselves. As we engage in daily battles in Afghanistan and Iraq, just as we fought English rule during the American Revolution, we fall in the middle. Our desire to create a harmonious world exists in our portrayal of everyone being “like us”. While our desires are respectable and commendable, we fail to see that they do not fit into the context of the dreams and desires of the people we are trying to help. Much like the British were under the impression they were helping the world by bringing structure and rule to “wild lands”, we feel we are doing the same by bringing democracy and peace to the Middle East. There has been the Roman Empire, there has been the British Empire, and there is the American Empire. Where technology and new ideas exist, there will constantly be front-runners attempting to plant and cultivate these new ideas in places they hope they will grow and flourish. This is not necessarily a bad thing, as many times the people we are attempting to help receive opportunities they might otherwise not have received. Would Lucy have become who she is at the end of the novel had she stayed in the Caribbean? Probably not. Would the Kafirs have regained their independence and identity had Peachy and Daniel never wandered into Kafiristan? Probably not. Is this a way of justifying their actions? Most definitely not. The truth is that, inevitably, both good and bad comes out of a colonizer/colonized rule. Many times it is necessary for a country to become colonized for them to realize who they are and who they desire to be. There are no simple answers and no way to assert what is fair. At the end of the day, I am an American who desires equality and the “American” dream for all, but who am I to say that everyone wants my “American” dream? Who am I to say that what would make me happy would make everyone else happy? If I were to force this dream on others they would accuse me of being a colonizer. If I were not to offer the opportunity of the “dream” would I still be considered a colonizer for “repressing the dream”? It almost always appears that in the end, we are left with more questions than answers. We are simply left with the statement, “It is what it is”. It is America’s responsibility to help in the world in whatever ways we can because of the wealth, technology, and resources that we have garnered over the past century. Doing that in a way that is deemed acceptable is the difficult part. We have failed in this department by falling under the assumption that everyone desires our help, when in fact they do not. Taking this course has opened my eyes to where America fits into the context of being an “Empire”; I only hope it will help, in time, establish how much of a good or bad thing that is. At this time I do not know the answers, simply the facts: I am proud to be an American, I am guilty of being a Robinson Crusoe, a Daniel Dravot, a Peachy Carnehan, and a Lucy Potter, but in the end, I cannot say whether being any of these characters is good or bad. In the end, I am what I am.
Works Cited Defoe, Daniel. Robinson Crusoe. London: Penguin Books, 1965. Print. Joan., Didion,. We Tell Ourselves Stories in Order to Live Collected Nonfiction (Everyman's Library). New York: Everyman's Library, 2006. Print. Kincaid, Jamaica. A Small Place. London: Virago, 1988. Print. Kincaid, Jamaica. Lucy. New York: Plume, 1991. Print. Kipling, Rudyard. The Man Who Would Be King. Iowa: Perfection Learning Corporation, 1980. Print
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