Burmese Days (Penguin Modern Classics)

published	November 29th 2001 by Penguin Books Ltd
first published	1934
binding	Paperback
isbn	0141185376 (isbn13: 9780141185378)
ebook
pages	320
description	Imagine crossing E.M. Forster with Jane Austen. Stir in a bit of socialist doctrine, a sprig of satire, strong Indian curry, and a couple quarts of g...more [close] Imagine crossing E.M. Forster with Jane Austen. Stir in a bit of socialist doctrine, a sprig of satire, strong Indian curry, and a couple quarts of good English gin and you get something close to the flavor of George Orwell's intensely readable and deftly plotted Burmese Days. In 1930, Kyauktada, Upper Burma, is one of the least auspicious postings in the ailing British Empire--and then the order comes that the European Club, previously for whites only, must elect one token native member. This edict brings out the worst in this woefully enclosed society, not to mention among the natives who would become the One. Orwell mines his own Anglo-Indian background to evoke both the suffocating heat and the stifling pettiness that are the central facts of colonial life: "Mr. MacGregor told his anecdote about Prome, which could be produced in almost any context. And then the conversation veered back to the old, never-palling subject--the insolence of the natives, the supineness of the Government, the dear dead days when the British Raj was the Raj and please give the bearer fifteen lashes. The topic was never let alone for long, partly because of Ellis's obsession. Besides, you could forgive the Europeans a great deal of their bitterness. Living and working among Orientals would try the temper of a saint." Protagonist James Flory is a timber merchant, whose facial birthmark serves as an outward expression of the ironic and left-leaning habits of mind that make him inwardly different from his coevals. Flory appreciates the local culture, has native allegiances, and detests the racist machinations of his fellow Club members. Alas, he doesn't always possess the moral courage, or the energy, to stand against them. His almost embarrassingly Anglophile friend, Dr. Veraswami, the highest-ranking native official, seems a shoo-in for Club membership, until Machiavellian magistrate U Po Kyin launches a campaign to discredit him that results, ultimately, in the loss not just of reputations but of lives. Whether to endorse Veraswami or to betray him becomes a kind of litmus test of Flory's character. Against this backdrop of politics and ethics, Orwell throws the shadow of romance. The arrival of the bobbed blonde, marriageable, and resolutely anti-intellectual Elizabeth Lackersteen not only casts Flory as hapless suitor but gives Orwell the chance to show that he's as astute a reporter of nuanced social interactions as he is of political intrigues. In fact, his combination of an astringently populist sensibility, dead-on observations of human behavior, formidable conjuring skills, and no-frills prose make for historical fiction that stands triumphantly outside of time. --Joyce Thompson [close]
date added	06-01-07 edit book

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Patricia rated it:

(review of isbn 1421808307)

07/25/08

Read in June, 2008

In George Orwell's essay "Why I Write," he says that his first published work of fiction, Burmese Days (1934), is the kind of book that he aspired to write at the age of sixteen when a passage from Milton's Paradise Lost sent "shivers down [his:] backbone." Specifically, Orwell says that he wanted to write "enormous naturalistic novels with unhappy endings, full of detailed descriptions and arresting similes, and also full of purple passages in which words were used part...more In George Orwell's essay "Why I Write," he says that his first published work of fiction, Burmese Days (1934), is the kind of book that he aspired to write at the age of sixteen when a passage from Milton's Paradise Lost sent "shivers down [his:] backbone." Specifically, Orwell says that he wanted to write "enormous naturalistic novels with unhappy endings, full of detailed descriptions and arresting similes, and also full of purple passages in which words were used partly for the sake of their sound." Well alrighty, then; Go 16-year old Orwell!! I'm not sure that I agree with Orwell's implication that one finds the same kind of descriptions, similes, and "purple passages" in PL to which he aspired; however, I do agree with him in saying that he achieves his teen-aged aspiration in Burmese Days. This isn't the best book I've ever read; it isn't even on my top 10 list, a telltale sign being that I am not gushing on and on about it to whomever will listen like I do with any work by Sebald, but Burmese Days certainly kept me interested and thinking the entire time I was reading it.

Before I get into a discussion of the book itself, let me just say in an aside that one of the nice things about reading Orwell's non-fiction writing in The Collected Essays, Journalism, & Letters (Nonpareil Books – go to www.godine.com for more information or to purchase – comeon, it's an independent publisher – GO!!) from the time he is working on a particular fictional work is that, as I read the result of his efforts, I also am reading about the effort itself. As a writer and as an instructor of English composition, of course, I know that there is no such thing as a perfect first draft or really that any work is really ever finished, for that matter; deadlines are the only thing that really makes a writer stop. Reading through Orwell's correspondence during 1933 and '34, one sees Orwell vacillate between love and hate for this novel—typical of most writers, he is fairly pleased with what he just wrote and hates what he wrote last week. Additionally, any artist trying to get his work out to the public will appreciate Orwell's frustration as he attempts to jump through the various (and namely political) hoops of the publishing world to get his work published (or not published for fear of libel, as was the case with the one British publisher who was the first one to hold Burmese Days only to pass on it).

As for the novel itself, as I was reading Burmese Days, I kept thinking of E. M. Forster's A Passage To India (1924), for Orwell's work takes a similar look at the British attitude towards India during the British Raj. Both Forster and Orwell knew firsthand about the attitude of the English towards the Indians—the way they constantly compared cultures and sneered, covertly and openly, at the natives for allowing themselves to be governed by the Empire while there was also a constant nervousness lest the native culture overtake the Brits in some form. Although it's been years since I read A Passage, I seem to remember the Indian Dr. Aziz as the more developed character than is Dr. Veraswami in Orwell's book, but both characters serve the same function—as evidence of an intelligent man who can see the laudable aspects as well as the imperfections of both cultures as well as of the political situation of colonization. It is because of their intelligence and objective view, however, that both Dr. Aziz and Dr. Veraswami are most at risk of becoming the victim when the two cultures clash.

Another book this brought to mind is one I read the summer before last called The Missionary by Sydney Owenson (Lady Morgan), which is set in early seventeenth-century India rather than the early twentieth century setting of Burmese Days. The heroine in The Missionary is much stronger and more likeable than the heroine in either Forster's or Orwell's novel (dare I suggest this may be because a woman wrote The Missionary?). I think the similarities between Orwell and Owenson are not as strong, although again both works examine the aspects of cultural intolerance (with the focus in The Missionary being more on religious intolerance) that are often present with imperial rule. However, I think the reason that I remembered Owenson's book while reading Orwell was because of the futility of the love affairs in both works. Both authors give hints to the reader that the affair is doomed from the beginning. Ultimately, we root for the hero, Flory, to finally win Elizabeth because he wants her more than because we think love will win, for it's difficult to imagine Elizabeth is capable of the kind of love Flory envisions. But what struck me as I read this doomed love affair is how sometimes we fall in love with an image of a person that somehow gets into our heads rather than the real person. Orwell writes this of Flory's thoughts of Elizabeth:

For somehow, he had never been able to talk to her as he longed to talk. To talk, simply to talk! It sounds so little, and how much it is! When you have existed to the brink of middle age in bitter loneliness, among people to whom your true opinion on every subject on earth is blasphemy, the need to talk is the greatest of all needs. Yet with Elizabeth serious talk seemed impossible. It was as though there had been a spell upon them that made all their conversation lapse into banality: gramophone records, dogs, tennis racquets—all that desolating Club-chatter. She seemed not to want to talk of anything but that. He had only to touch upon a subject of any conceivable interest to hear the evasion, the 'I shan't play' , coming into her voice. … Later, no doubt, she would understand him and give him the companionship he needed. Perhaps it was only that he had not won her confidence yet.

I like that passage for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that I think this is the way those who justify imperial rule think about the colonial subjects. If only they would see the benefits of being in love with Empire, of having another culture usurp theirs—it would be a match made in heaven—if only …

Of course, politics notwithstanding, each of these books work as a good summer read for the plot and the characters alone. Owenson creates a strong female character at a time when strong female characters were not a matter of course, Orwell creates a great villain in U Po Kyin, or "The Crocodile" as Dr. Veraswami calls him, and with all three books, you get to travel to far away lands without spending a fortune on fuel. Happy Reading and Bon Voyage!
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Ann rated it:

(review of isbn 1421808307)

06/18/08

Read in June, 2008

I'd like to offer, as a sort of disclaimer, that it's a little weird for me to say whether or not I "like" a book, or worse still, to be the judge of how "good" it is. As a dutifully relativist English major, I'm wary of these terms, and especially of a star scale. I fall into all sorts of relativist angst over what "good" really is, who can say a book is "good," what these stars signify, and who am I to pick a number of stars...

That said (and I supp...more

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