exit west (mohsin hamid)

It is noted with some amusement that the Obamas' production company has acquired the rights to Exit West. On imdb the putative film project, ‘in development’ is headlined by a pair of British tyros, one of whom is a friend of a friend. The presence of the Obamas is, these days, something of a double edged sword. On the one hand a badge of liberal consciousness in a world where the extremists are on the rise, on the other, a badge of compromise, a validation of a system, (US imperialism, with all that implies), which remains a dangerous and far-from-beneficial influence on the shape the world is and has been taking over the course of the last 50 years, or more.

Why would the Obamas be interested in Exit West? The novel opens in a Middle Eastern town, which might be Aleppo or Mosul, but is in fact a fictional space, where extremists are seizing power. The semiotics smell of Isis, (the ritual executions, the sense of lawlessness under the shroud of religious devotion). Nadia and Saeed find themselves falling in love against the backdrop of this turmoil. They know they have to flee, which they do, escaping through a magic door to arrive on a Greek island. From there they will hop to London and finally California. The complex process of flight and exile is reduced to a literary device, which, whilst convenient on an allegorical  level, might be accused of minimising the realities and risks of these migrations. However, this also reflects the way that the novel transforms from being a meditation on surviving the impact of religious extremism to a more spaced-out, opaque vision of the near-future, redolent of hypothetical dystopias such as the Parable of the Sower.

Clearly there’s a market for this kind of story, which in the end offers a positivist vision of a millennial future where religious fundamentalism, xenophobia and climate change have been overcome, laying the basis for a kinder, simpler civil society. However, this also means that the novel might be deemed open to charges of over-simplifying what are, in essence, seismic and perhaps intractable problems. The knottiness of these problems is skated over. You open a door and arrive on the other side. 

the wasted vigil (w. nadeem aslam)

Afghanistan. A few months ago, the word was on everyone’s lips. The country had fallen for a second time to the Taliban and the consequences, we were assured, were going to be terrible. Then the news cycle moved on and the consequences became almost invisible. So far as can be discerned from news feeds, the consequences have, indeed, proved to be terrible, but no-one is looking.

Nadeem Aslam, a British Pakistani writer, is probably an exception to that last phrase. In a search for literature about Afghanistan I was directed to his book, not knowing where the writer was from. But as a primer for how to understand the last thirty or indeed three thousand years of Afghan history, The Wasted Vigil is a vital starting point. It’s also a coruscating read, skilfully woven, full of portending dread. Which is entirely justified and, so far as we can discern, is even more justified today, 14 years after the book was published.

The book tells the story of four characters. Marcus, a British man who has converted to Islam, whose wife was killed by the Taliban. David, a former CIA agent who fell in love with Marcus’ daughter, Zameen, who was herself killed by an Afghan. Lara, a Russian woman who is searching for her brother, a Soviet soldier by whom Zameen had a child, who might still be alive. Lastly, Casa, a Taliban soldier, who finds himself holed up with these three foreigners in a remote but beautiful part of the country. Each character reflects a different element of Afghanistan’s recent history and their fate is constantly in jeopardy. A sense of dread lurks over the book and its characters: it feels as though none can possibly emerge unscathed.

Aslam peppers his tale with anecdotes and a vast knowledge of Muslim history and religion. Beside offering an insight into the Koran, it gives insights into Afghani history, gem stones, Buddhism, sacred art of the region and much much more. It is, in a way, a treasure trove of knowledge and information, albeit a Pandora’s box kind of treasure trove, one that once opens seems to send the world into a tailspin from which it will never emerge.

As is indeed the case. Even if the characters featured in the novel were to have survived, it seems impossible that recent events would not have now caught up with them and that their survival then was only postponing the inevitable. How the Americans and the British and the Russians and the Pakistanis and probably many others have managed to fuck up Afghanistan. Doubtless they have had help from Afghanis too, but The Wasted Vigil succeeds in harrowing style in showing how geo-politics impacts on individuals of all colours and creeds. 

the runaways (fatima bhutto)

Fatima Bhutto’s novel aspires to enter the minds of the young, enfranchised or disenfranchised, who headed out to participate in Jihad in the middle east. It follows three characters, Sunny, from Portsmouth, Monty, from Lahore, but an Anglicised Pakistani family, and Layla, a young woman from a poorer district of Lahore who has nevertheless found a way to an education in the same American school as Monty, where they meet and have a fling. A fling which drives Monty to follow Layla to Iraq when she becomes radicalised, where he finds himself paired with Sunny as they trek across the desert on a mission to Nineveh, where they will meet up with Layla. The novel is far stronger in the non-Iraqi sections. The writer’s understanding of Karachi and its social codes is evident. Sunny, with his confused sexuality and thwarted ambitions, is similarly a more interesting personality in his native Portsmouth. Once the novel hits Iraq, it starts to feel more speculative, less convincing. It’s never clear why Sunny and Monty are marching across the desert, nor why they get on so badly, something that seems to constrain the narrative, and the transformation of Sunny from a lost soul to ruthless psychopath feels forced, no matter how much it might be based on actual events. In the end, it feels as though the writer’s understanding of life in Iraq under ISIS is tentative at most and for all the book’s noble intentions there’s a slightly cynical air to the characterisation of these unfortunate figures who have become embroiled in a phenomenon which appears to be way beyond their understanding. 

the reluctant fundamentalist [moshin hamid]

Hamid's book is the kind of text you can read in a single sitting. I read it in two. The narrative is compelling, the style flows easily, and the book's remit appears to be bold and topical. I came across it via an article discussing why there's been no truly successful novel about the fall of the twin towers. One of the article's conclusions was that the event itself was experienced so profoundly by the world's public that fiction finds it hard to live up to the real thing. Hamid's novel, as the title suggests, at least offers a fresh perspective on the theme by adopting a narrator who's Pakistani, living in Lahore, talking to an American spook. The implication is that the narrator is the reluctant fundamentalist of the title and that his personal experience of 9/11 contributed to his radical politics.

The book follows the narrator's fortunes working for a Morgan Stanley/ McKinsey style organisation called Underwood Samson. His job is to value companies, presumably facilitating asset stripping or hostile takeover. He has secured his post in spite of his third world pedigree, and in order to ensure this does not handicap him he works harder than his peers and looks set for a golden future. The novel's description of the conflicts felt by the narrator as he seeks to realise the Western dream of affluence and power is acute. No matter how hard he tries he will always be an outsider. When he watches the towers go down from a Philippines hotel he cheers in spite of himself. Later on a trip to Valparaiso in Chile he crumbles, unable to participate in the deconstruction of a venerable publishing company. He quits and returns to Lahore.

As the novel restlessly trespasses over four continents in the course of its 200 pages it feels for a moment as if Hamid is the writer who will be capable of relating the East/ West; North/ South; Third/First world divide. His premise is perfect and his observations are meticulous. However, sad to say, the book kind of fizzles out. Firstly, the narrator's transformation into a cult political teacher in Pakistan (the fundamentalist of the title) is dealt with in the space of a few paragraphs, so cursory that they fail to investigate this essential stage in his development in any depth. Secondly, the conceit around which the tale is spun of the narrator talking to a US spook in a Lahore marketplace goes nowhere.

All of which leaves the reader with the impression that they've only really read half a novel. A strong, promising half a novel, but also, ultimately, a lazy one. Underneath the book's supposed examination of what might lead a man to become a fundamentalist (or even a terrorist), one cannot help thinking that this ends up being another contribution to the Orientalism debate. Hamid's book with its ferociously simple prose style and lack of any considered denouement seems tailor made for consumption by a 'Western' audience. There's no real subversion in the narrator's destiny; he doesn't shock or upset or alienate us. If there have to be "fundamentalists" in this world, (and the shortcuts the book takes as it addresses the narrator's transformation don't leave us much the wiser as to what this word really means), 'we' would probably want them to be just like him.