Review of "The Quiet American" by Graham Greene

Graham Greene may be one of the godfathers of the modern international spy novel.  But beyond entertainment, what allows his work to still be read today is the degree to which the personal and spiritual are tied into real-world political situations.  Prophetic beyond perhaps even he imagined, Greene’s 1955 The Quiet American is the story of the United States government poking its nose into the political affairs of Vietnam—a situation already fraught with French occupancy.  Many Americans were incensed upon the book’s publishing in the US, but Greene’s crystal ball vision has only come into sharper focus in the time since.  His portrayal of a flawed individual involved in this circumstance only makes the affair more poignant.

The Quiet American is the story of an ageing British journalist, named Thomas Fowler, living in Saigon and covering the war between the French and Vietnamese.  Despite being dedicated to his job, he is an opium user and keeps a young Vietnamese woman named Phuong as a lover unbeknownst to his wife in Britain.  In the course of reporting, Fowler runs across a young American living in the city.  An upper-class intellectual, Pyle seems innocent enough on the surface, but mysterious events soon begin taking shape, and when Pyle lays claim to Phuong, Fowler decides to use his credentials to dig deeper into the deepening political tension surrounding the man.  What he finds does not make the decisions that come any easier.

Though the novel operates in the mode of international thriller, Greene keeps the story at a personal level.  Fowler’s life is not easy, and his personal choices don’t help.  The uncertainty of having a job, drug use, adultery, and the chaos of war hanging on the fringes serve to weight his shoulders more than the average man’s—even basking in his own dark mood at times.  The novel’s conclusion nothing of the happy-go-lucky type, Fowler does find a measure of peace, but not without the addition of new problems.  Greene’s ability to mix this personal with the political has rightfully kept the novel’s head above water in the half-century that has passed since its publishing and is ultimately the reason its political commentary impresses both the reader’s heart and brain.

Greene’s portrayal of Pyle is not exactly the aristocratic, Harvard-educated person the average American envisions.  His motives set at a fundamentally ideological level, the reasons behind his existence in Vietnam exemplify the idea of morally gray.   Fowler himself not the most virtuous of people, the two characters’ storylines intertwine and evolve in wholly realistic fashion.  Knowing their exploits have not been idealized to manipulate reader’s emotions, the reading thus becomes a more engaging experience.  

In the end, The Quiet American, though short, has everything a good novel should.  Realistic main characters motivated by an equally realistic plot (especially given the history that has transpired since), all in lean, focused, well-written prose.  That Greene is able to effectively mix personal values with commentary upon the political motivation of an ambitious government pushes the novel toward being one of the best of the 20th century.  It is Vietnam War discussion before there was a war, and commentary on every major war in the Middle East that has occurred since, and worth a read.

(As a side note, Phillip Noyce’s 2002 film adaptation of The Quiet American is commendable.  While some plot elements are changed to fit the medium, the quality of Michael Caine’s performance is stunning.  Brendan Fraser’s role as Pyle may not win any awards, but the film’s overall cinematographic mood well captures the feel of Greene’s novel.  Worse adaptations existing, this one comes recommended, just not as a pure version of the novel.)

Review of "The Calcutta Chromosome" by Amitav Ghosh

A dabbler in genres, Amitav Ghosh seems to continually be trying a new style of writing.  His debut A Circle of Reason is a great sample of magic realism; The Shadow Lines remains realist through and through; and his ongoing Ibis trilogy is the purest of historical fiction.  The Calcutta Chromosome finds the author trying on his fantasy/horror/sci-fi shoes.  Not an awkward mix of the three, the book won the Arthur C. Clark award in 1996 for its extrapolation upon the history of discovering malaria’s cure and its possibility today.  The resulting informative thriller is a worthwhile offering to the speculative fiction market by a jack-of-all-trades author.

Ghosh possesses a PhD in social anthropology, and the research background shows: a significant portion of The Calcutta Chromosome relates the history and unusual circumstances surrounding the discovery of the cure for malaria by the Nobel prize winning Ronald Ross at the end of the 19th century in Calcutta.  Only occasionally disaffecting, the info is broken into chunks, and when related by the gregarious Murugan, is not dry in the least.  As not all the accounts of the great discovery line up, Ghosh takes the loop holes among the various journal and research notes surviving the decades as the premise of the novel.  The answers filling these holes not always synchronous, a strange and mysterious situation arises.  Beyond paranormal, secrecy survives until today.

The story character driven, there is no single viewpoint driving The Calcutta Chromosome.  Antar is a computer archeologist living a dead-end life; Murugan is an eccentric with a PhD in immunology; Mangala is a voodoo woman/cleaning lady whose role in the story reveals itself one mysterious puzzle piece at a time; Lutchman is an all too auspicious volunteer for research; and Urmila is an out-of-luck journalist unwittingly swept up in the present day revelation of malaria’s role in society.  These and a few other important characters receive stage time toward unveiling the strange circumstances surrounding the cure for malaria’s discovery. 

The timing of the novel its strongest point.  Ghosh surprisingly seems well versed on what makes a plot suspenseful for this, his first thriller.  By revealing a little here, introducing an unfamiliar and therefore mysterious element there, the pages fly by.  Implications testing the limits of reality, Ghosh keeps readers hanging by a thread; the reader never knows what will happen next but desperately wants to.  Only occasionally lyrical, Ghosh writes in taut, declarative sentences that guide the narrative infallibly.  Often using the motif of introducing an idea, then jumping back in time to backfill the history to that point, the transition points between characters rotate seamlessly, proving Ghosh as flexible in style as subject.

As the pages turn, the reader comes to an understanding of not only the research and immunology behind malaria’s cure, but also the singular and yet unknown potential of the malaria virus.  The reason the novel won the Arthur C. Clarke award is undoubtedly due to the occasionally creepy, often profound speculation Ghosh performs on malarial cell generation and its potential within human DNA.  The topics of medicine and pathology not often tackled in spec-fic, it’s great to see the possibilities intertwined in a thrilling yet interesting story.

In the end, The Calcutta Chromosome is a highly readable and informative book that will have the hairs on the back of your arm standing up as Ghosh explores the history of malaria from a present day perspective on history.  Knowing exactly what little morsels and tidbits will lead the reader on, Ghosh unveils the state of India and immunology at the end of the 19th century, as well as a few mysteries of his own, with finesse.  Readers of Michael Crichton will certainly wanting to have a go.  One hopes this isn’t the last time Ghosh visits the sf genre.