I’m not fond of war novels and tend to avoid them altogether like a plague not so much because of the bloody killings of hundreds of thousands of innocent people but … yeah that’s precisely why. It’s so bad that the copy of “All Quiet on the Western Front” by Erich Maria Remarque that I bought but never got enough courage to open has been sitting there gathering dust for more than 10 years now. That’s why, if it’s not for the only book club that I have, I wouldn’t have picked “An Ice-Cream War” by William Boyd.
It’s summer 1914: the news of the assasination of Archduke Francis Ferdinand has just broken out, sending the whole western civilization into pandemonium and proceeding to a stage of worldwide crisis. However, the book shifted focus of the war far away from France, the epicenter of World War I, into the heart of African jungle, where the British and German colonies there faced each other across the border of present-day Kenya and Tanzania.
Through his lush vocabulary and rich choice of words, Boyd guides us through a multitude of episodes and varied characters, portraying their intertwined fates in the midst of an absurd, wasteful war. Each character, who initially has strong resilience and palpable mindset, found themselves at the mercy of the circumstances and being hopeless in the face of the stronger current of events. Not one has even barely succeeded in achieving their initial goal: Gabriel Cobb is enthusiastically preparing for the war that he forgo the rest of his honeymoon altogether only to find himself annihilated by the boredom of prolonged sea travels, incapacitated in the sweltering African heat and savored the bitter taste of defeat on the first day of battle; Felix is similarly engaged in the idea of attending Oxford and its promising day of insightful intellectual discussion with mental giants only to find the lackluster academic scene and humiliating social engagements; Charis who welcomes her matrimonial bliss with open arms has stood by when the war foiled her marriage and disheartened her with acute lonesomeness; Von Bishop who saluted his patriotic duty with favorable reception got overwhelmed with the unprecedented problems of commanding men whose culture he does not understand and whose language he does not even speak, and eventually ended his life not on the tip of an enemy’s bayonet like one would be prepared for in the battlefield, but by the unstoppable spreads of Spanish Influenza. It is, essentially, a story of where everyone failed successfully.
It presents a lot of viewpoints and characters, allowing us to witness how the story unfolds from different perspectives. In doing so, it gives the otherwise flat narrative a layered reality and perceptible richness that was possibly hard to accomplish by a single narrator. Unfortunately, Boyd does not share a lot of rooms in which the complexity and details of each characters’ psychological turmoil could be focused on. Felix and Charis’ infidelity, for one, is not well-reasoned as their individual motivation was not quite explained, leaving this part of the novel and their supposedly grave decision only presented to serve as a plot device to catapult Felix into the middle of African war.
It is always refreshing to observe the way human existences are dwarfed by the history through which they live and see how the man-made war has thwarted their own endeavor in an utterly ridiculous, comic way —up to the point we realize that it came solely from a white perspective of colonized countries, where the caucasian thrives on the misery of the colored people. We were spoonfed with the inconvenience the privileged characters experienced in this unfamiliar, alien territory: they complained of the unbearable high temperature, whining about diminishing financial prospects as a result of the war, or disappointed because they couldn’t achieve any sort of glory they thought they deserve. It is an entirely selfish, whitewashed view as it’s blissfully forgetful of the fact that not only the whites who were at disadvantage at that time, but most importantly, the indigenous people of Africa. Most of the African soldier were forcibly recruited and treated in horrible discrimination. They were commanded to carry out the task that were deemed too difficult for regular soldiers, such as bringing army supplies which could not be moved by conventional methods like road, rail or packanimal. The war has also caused more than 150000 of civilians casualties, not to mention those who survived but ended up disabled and wounded —physically and psychologically. To be frank, the title itself could be interpreted on so many levels: is it because the white, like ice-cream, could dissolve easily under the sun that their war would turn into a messy meltdown on the Dark Continent?
Debatably, Boyd purported Temple Smith (Walter in US version) as a character who somewhat shows ‘woke’ qualities, as he inwardly condemned Wheech-Browning of heartless judgment against a colored person but at the same time he could happily subjected his own farmhands to physical abuse and never see them as people with fundamental rights —not so much for a picture-perfect righteous character everyone could root for. I’m not sure why Boyd forgoes the Black perspective entirely even though he recounted the part of war that happens exclusively on African soil, but I conclusively blame on him being white.