The Glass Palace by Amitav Ghosh

Set in Burma during the British invasion of 1885, this masterly novel by Amitav Ghosh tells the story of Rajkumar, a poor boy lifted on the tides of political and social chaos, who goes on to create an empire in the Burmese teak forest. When soldiers force the royal family out of the Glass Palace and into exile, Rajkumar befriends Dolly, a young woman in the court of the Burmese Queen, whose love will shape his life. He cannot forget her, and years later, as a rich man, he goes in search of her. The struggles that have made Burma, India, and Malaya the places they are today are illuminated in this wonderful novel.

The Glass Palace by Amitav Ghosh is probably the best book I could have read at this point in my trip. The novel spans over a century of socio-political history and travels all over South East Asia, from Calcutta to Mandalay, from Rangoon to Malaya.

It's an ambitious project for Ghosh, taking him 5 years writing and researching  all the tiniest details but it's paid off massively. What a feat of writing. Everything comes alive in this novel - who knew I could learn so much, and be genuinely made interested in, teak and rubber plantations?? I often find that Asian writers have a particular, more floral style that I'm not always used to and struggle with but Ghosh doesn't do that. He writes clearly and fluidly, while weaving in the vital historical and cultural detail with subtlety, rather than showing off his wealth of knowledge. 

This book has a story to tell certainly, but in comparison to Burmese Days, I don't think Ghosh's primary intention is to make a political/cultural statement. He does address difficult issues explicitly, but does so admirably fairly and without, I think, losing the facts. Subjects include the treatment of the Indian communities in Malaya and Burma, their relationship with the British army and Gandhi's crusade, the violence inflicted on Asia by the British and the Japanese during World War 2, class climbing, and more domestic issues such as marriage, grief and infidelity across the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.

For anyone travelling in South East Asia, this is a must read, but you should read it anyway.

8.5/10

The Campaign to Save Orwell's "Burmese Days" House

As I've already explained, Orwell wasn't exactly a champion of colonial Burma, but the novel is absolutely everywhere. I mean, there aren't that many books set in Burma / Myanmar, let alone include the country's name in the title. Every time you walk into a market or the grounds of a temple, there's always a woman with a basket selling you jewellery, thanaka for your face, and copies of Burmese Days.

The thing is that, regardless of the message, Burmese Days is an incredibly important book, and brilliantly written of course. And when a place becomes immortalised in writing, we become even further reluctant to destroy memory of it - whether that's taking the book out of print or, in the case of Burmese Days, knocking down the house that provided the inspiration for the novel.

Set amongst trees in the small Sagaing town of Katha, 150 miles north of Mandalay, the rust-red wooden house looks like it's almost falling down itself to be honest, but having read the book, you can as good as see the sweat-soaked colonial soldiers reclining out front. 

Now that the country is open, tourists finally feel its okay to visit once again, and the Myanmar people know that after years of the country being out of the news, the images Westerners in particular have of their country is through the likes of George Orwell and so destroying these modern tourist sites is not going to help their influx of travelers, and the consequent rejuvenation of the Myanmar economy. Of course it's not all about money, there's culture and history at stake here too. Popular culture, literary and colonial history, be it positive or negative.

I recently read an article in the Independent newspaper that quoted artist and campaigner Nyo Ko Naing, who told the AFP (Agence France-Presse), "I am trying to do what I can to restore all the buildings in the book and to attract attention to the country and the town." As a fan of literature in all its forms, I can only support that.

                      

The Irrawaddy Literary Festival - Aung San Su Kyi!!

I think today could be described as the most ridiculous and most exciting coincidence of my trip so far, if not my entire year. Arriving at our hotel in Mandalay, we became aware of a debut literary festival in our back garden. Literally. Outside in the grounds of the hotel with Mandalay Hill as a backdrop, are a number of tents for a literary festival programme with a big line up of names, Burmese but also Western with Louis De Berniers, Joan Bakewell, Martha Kearney and others.

The festival being there at all makes this a lucky coincidence in itself! Made even more of a coincidence by the fact the festival should have passed us by because the government at the last minute had forbidden use of the original hosting location, hence the move to our hotel. Then I catch sight of a literary agent I've met in London - weird.

The final, most exciting coincidence, though - the Lady, Daw Su herself, Aung San Su Kyi was going to be there. I think this is the only time it is actually acceptable for me to use the term 'Oh Em Gee'.

To get into the tiniest room for Burma's Nelson Mandela seemed as good as impossible but we decided to camp out there by going to the first talk of the day - Are the West interested in Asian Literature?

The debate was chaired by Hong Kong literary agent Kelly Falconer, who acknowledged that her session had unfortunately been transformed into the mere preamble to 'the main event', and was unfairly having to battle the hustle and bustle of a very excited crowd waiting for The Lady. The talk was actually quite interesting. Kelly shared the stage with Michael Vatikiotis, a writer and journalist based in South East Asia and writing Asian-centric fiction and non-fiction titles. Alongside him was Thant Thaw Kaung, the CEO of the Myanmar Book Centre. The main point that was made, initiated by Vatikiotis, was that yes, the success Asian literature in the West still relies on heavy stereotypes (slogans like "the Harry Potter of Asia" etc), but that the debates main question was pretty arrogant and that really we should be asking, "is Asia interested in Western literature?"

"The question is almost out of date. The whole concept of 'East' and 'West' has become rather blurred, and the idea of literature and culture being joined at the hip is long gone. Whether you're writing literature from an Eastern or Western perspective is no longer relevant," said Vatikiotis, " citing Indian author Amitav Ghosh's convincing treatment of Myanmar in his 2000 novel, "The Glass Palace".

Despite our ambitious plans of saving our front row seats early and waiting it out for Aung San Su Kyi (the Patron of the Irrawaddy Literary Festival it turns out), we are told no one must remain in the room for secuity reasons and so after all that, we are chucked out of the room. There is no way we are going to get in, let alone get a good seat... There are now thousands of people crowded outside, all dressed up in NLD attire.

Then suddenly, after half an hour of standing outside and refusing to move, we here a call - 'all international authors first, please'. Suddenly we find ourselves in a group of 'convenient' writers... Aka westerners who want to catch a glimpse but don't have a pass... So we rode the wave... And in we got. Not just in either, three rows back from AUNG SAN SU KYI with hundreds of surging fans all around us with iPads and camera phones going mental. Interviewed by Dame Joan Bakewell, we listened to her talk on everything from her years of imprisonment, to the death of her husband, to the state of democracy in the world and in Myanmar, right down to her flare for home cooking!

I'm still buzzing. Wow.

On the Road to Mandalay - from Rudyard Kipling to Daphne Du Maurier

Without realising it, the first time I heard of a distant place called Mandalay was when I was about five years old:

The head of the herd was calling

Far, far away

They met one night in the silver light

On the road to Mandalay

It seems Nellie the Elephant, made famous by this nursery rhyme, packed her trunk and traveled all over flipping Asia and back again when I look at these lyrics now, Bombay - Hindustan - Mandalay - where next?

Aside from the irresistible nostalgia sesh, my reason for bring up Nellie is that Mandalay for some reason over the years has become, through literature, this romanticised city. The 'silver light' of Burma.

Most famously, Rudyard Kipling wrote his famous poem, 'On the Road to Mandalay' which was subsequently put to music , most notably by Frank Sinatra:

By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastward to the sea,

There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;

For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:

"Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!"

So I think, as much as I love Nellie, Rudyard Kipling is probably the main culprit when it comes to the romanticising of Mandalay. When we drove into the ex-Burmese capital, I was on the lookout to see whether or not there was anything in what Kipling had to say.

"Everyone comes to visit," our guide was telling us, "expecting to find a beautiful old Asian city. But it's not! It's a big modern city with a lot of cars!" And he was right. It is a busy modern city with lots of cars, but then it occurred to me - Kipling this whole time has been writing about the ROAD to Mandalay, not the city itself. Even Nellie only headed out in the direction of Mandalay. Who knows if she ever got there. And the road to Mandalay really is beautiful. A basin between two mountain ranges, the land is flat, lush green farm land with idyllic lakes and the iconic teak bridge, an image used in numerous depictions of Burma and on the front of Amitav Ghosh's The Glass Palace.

I think, though, that the main reason for the continued romanticising of the city is wrapped up in its mystery. For decades Myanmar has been cut off from the world. Even before that, the city itself is built around the last royal palace of the Burmese monarchy and it is vast - 413 hectres to be precise, and 2km square, with huge towering walls and a 64 metre wide moat separating it from the rest of the city. The last king never once left the palace walls until he was sent into exile, enforcing a sense of mystery at the literal centre of the city.

This sense of mystery is, perhaps, epitomised in Daphne Du Maurier's appropriation of the name, Mandalay (or Manderley, as she writes), for the ghostly manor in her novel, Rebecca.

I don't even know if Kipling went to Mandalay, perhaps he only made it to the road on its way there? But the surrounding countryside really is beautiful, and the city, which yes, has some traffic, don't they all?, was actually great. I got to walk around the different working districts - marble carving, gold leaf making, silk weaving - and climb to the top of Mandalay Hill at sunset to see it all from a distance. It's a great city, so maybe now that the country is open again, Kipling's poem will bring more curious people to its gates?

Burmese Days by George Orwell

Based on his experiences as a policeman in Burma, George Orwell's first novel presents a devastating picture of British colonial rule. It describes corruption and imperial bigotry in a society where, 'after all, natives were natives - interesting, no doubt, but finally ... an inferior people'. When Flory, a white timber merchant, befriends Indian Dr Veraswami, he defies this orthodoxy. The doctor is in danger: U Po Kyin, a corrupt magistrate, is plotting his downfall. The only thing that can save him is membership of the all-white Club, and Flory can help. Flory's life is changed further by the arrival of beautiful Elizabeth Lackersteen from Paris, who offers an escape from loneliness and the 'lie' of colonial life.

As some of you will know, I have taken three months out to do some travelling. One of the many luxuries is reading whatever I want! I'm trying, though, to at least read some books that are geographically appropriate. After a brief stop in Kuala Lumpur, I am now in Myanmar, or Burma - hence my first read, Burmese Days by George Orwell.

Burmese Days is, as expected, brilliantly written. It is also incredibly interesting as it provides a genuine insight into what it might have been like in Burma under British rule as Orwell himself had been a police officer out there in the 1920s. For anyone who hadn't read Emma Larkin's intro, or indeed her book on the subject, you might assume the novel would be more sympathetic to the colonisers rather than the native people. I noticed from the copyright page that the novel was first published in the States, not the Uk, which surprised me so I did a brief google (made briefer by the precarious wifi..). The book had apparently caused an uproar in Britain for painting such a negative image of colonialism and so was not published until a year later.

It is extremely clear that Orwell bad become disillusioned by British colonialism in Myanmar but, saying that, the Burmese people do not come across brilliantly either. In fact, there is a distinct lack of likeable people in the whole novel. Flory, Orwells protagonist, is the closest you'll get to rooting for someone but even he is a little too wimpy and pathetic to be truly 'liked'. The women are grim, both the British and the Burmese, and the men are mostly painted as sex and money obsessed, bigoted and supercilious alcoholics.

Orwell focuses a lot on the contradictions, the love hate relationship between Flory and Burma and how he hates it but can't imagine wanting to live anywhere else. Orwells descriptions also ooze heat, the decadent, sweat inducing humidity in the forests and rural villages outside Rangoon. 

Despite it's distinctly negative and depresssing tone, it's been great reading something set where I am - you can really sense what it might have been like, whether it an exaggerated version or not. It reminded me a little of Hemingway's explorations of people and places in his short stories in particular. 

7.5/10

Wolf Hall at RSC Stratford

When it was announced that Hilary Mantel's Booker-winning Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies were going to be adapted into a stage production by the Royal Shakespeare Company, there was never a doubt in my mind that it would be brilliantly done. Mantel's intelligent and vivid re-imagining of Thomas Cromwell and Henry VIII's Tudor court was made for the stage.

The only thing was that the books were so long, weren't they? and I'm not sure we could call them the lightest reads either... so the plays were bound to be hideously long and a little 'heavy'. I wasn't convinced the more political side would translate that well - potentially a little dry... When I went to see Wolf Hall in Shakespeare's birth-town of Stratford last week, though, I'm pleased to say that I was completely and utterly wrong.

What I should have remembered was when I heard Hilary Mantel reading from Bring Up the Bodies at the Southbank Centre a couple of years ago. She brought out all the humour in her writing that I had embarrassingly missed somehow when reading it myself. It was clear from the moment the play started that Mantel was written all over the screenplay. Her heavy involvement in the production has resulted in a play that was both clever and accessible, and really very funny from start to finish. Be it Cromwell's crafty wit or his Shakespearean clown-like servant Joseph, the whole Swan Theatre regularly erupted into laughter. One of them so much that they seemed to be quietly dying of a coughing fit in the third row... 

On the subject of the audience, it was a little, umm, predictable shall we say. I'm pretty sure I brought the average age down by about 40 years for starters. Admittedly it was a matinee in the middle of the week in Stratford but I do hope when the plays move to London later in the year that everyone goes to see it.

The only criticism I had, and to be honest it's more of a question mark than a criticism, was that I felt there could have been a bit more of Cromwell's brutality. Even though one of the main ambitions of Mantel's trilogy is to change our perspective on Cromwell a little bit and imagine him from a different perspective, there is no doubt that Cromwell could be a cruel bully sometimes, whether his actions were understandable or not. I felt that this was slightly underplayed, not absent, but perhaps too subtle in places. Perhaps Bring Up the Bodies grows this side of his character a bit more. And maybe make him a bit uglier... Ben Miles is very nice on the eye - pretty sure Crommers was not...

Anyway, it's really really good. So go see it. Do it. Go. And if you're really keen and, you know, rich - book Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies back to back! I wish I had. Historical inaccuracies aside, there really are worse things than a double-bill of Ben Miles...

Other related posts:

Review: Giving Up the Ghost

Hilary Mantel Makes History...

RSC To Stage Wolf Hall

Review: A Place of Greater Safety

Hilary Mantel at the Southbank Centre

Review: Bring Up the Bodies