Mimic Men In-Class Exercise--Excerpts from Naipaul's travel narrative of the Caribbean, The Middle Passage (1962)Your first challenge, before you can begin thinking about your passage's relationship to the themes, characters, and/or events of The Mimic Men, is to make sure you understand what Naipaul is scorning or complaining about. I've included some suggested glosses in parentheses: Excerpt #1 (the "squalor," cynicism, and fickleness of popular politics
in postwar Trinidad):
This was an ugly world, where the picaroon hero...was beaten almost to death when found out, and had therefore to get in his blows first whenever possible; where the weak were humiliated; where the powerful never appeared and were beyond reach; where no one was allowed any dignity and everyone had to impose himself; an uncreative society, where war was the only profession. (72-3)
Excerpt #2 (Trinidadians' propensity to look to America as its cultural
standard of reference, even as they decry the British cultural imperialism
under which they suffered during the colonial era):
Modernity in Trinidad, then, turns out to be the extreme susceptibility of people who are unsure of themselves and, having no taste or style of their own, are eager for instruction. (46-7) To the Trinidad mind...no absurdity attaches to the pretence of being American in Trinidad; and while much energy has been spent in the campaign against Wordsworth ["because daffodils are not flowers Trinidad schoolchildren know"], no one has spoken out against the fantasy which Trinidadians live out every day of their lives. (65)
Excerpt #3 (what he sees as the "dead end" of race-based cultural nationalism
and "protest literature,"
à la the African-American "Black Arts Movement" of the 1960s):
The involvement of the Negro with the white world is one of the limitations of West Indian writing, as it is the destruction of American Negro writing. The American Negro's subject is his blackness. This cannot be the basis of any serious literature, and it has happened again and again that once the American Negro has made his statement, his profitable protest, he has nothing to say. With two or three exceptions, the West Indian writer has so far avoided the American Negro type of protest writing, but his aims have been equally propagandist: to win acceptance for his group. (68-9) For the uneducated masses, quick to respond to racial stirrings and childishly pleased with destructive gestures, the protest leader will always be a hero. The West Indies will never have a shortage of such leaders, and the danger of mob rule and authoritarianism will never cease to be real. The paternalism of colonial rule will have been replaced by the jungle politics of rewards and revenge, the text-book conditions for chaos. (231)
Excerpt #4 (the need for an artist who can deflate, rather than flatter,
the narcicsssm of the West Indian middle class):
In fact there is a good deal of West Indian writing about the middle class, but the people tend to be so indistinguishable from white and are indeed so often genuinely white that the middle class cannot recognize itself. It is not easy to write about the middle class. The most exquisite gifts of irony and perhaps malice would be required to keep the characters from slipping into an unremarkable mid-Atlantic whiteness. They would have to be treated as real people with real problems and responsibilities and affections--and this has been done--but they would also have to be treated as people whose lives have been corrupted by a fantasy which is their cross. Whether an honest exploration of this will ever be attempted is doubtful. The gifts required, of subtlety and brutality, can grow only out of a mature literature.... (68-9)
Excerpt #5 (his profound disregard for Trinidadian popular culture):
Port-of-Spain is the noisiest city in the world....[T]he radios and the rediffusion sets do the talking, the singing, the jingling; the steel bands do the booming and the banging....In restaurants...[s]tunned, temples throbbing, you champ and chew, concentrating on the working of your jaw muscles. In a private home...[i]f there are more than three, dancing will begin. Sweat-sweat-dance-dance-sweat. Loud, loud, louder....Jump-jump-sweat-sweat-jump.... ...All through the night the dogs will go on, in a thousand inextricably snarled barking relays, rising and falling, from street to street and back again, from one end of the city to another. And you will wonder how you stood it for eighteen years, and whether it was always like this. (54-6) |