Aravind Adiga’s The White Tiger: From Zoo to Jungle Lecture 4 Presentation E-mail – john.masterson@wits.ac.za Office - SH3011 How to access these presentations •Access the English 1 Blog via the following weblink •http://witsenglishi.word press.com Representations of Space in The White Tiger Literal and Figurative Significance Power and the Policing of Borders Consider potential links with South Africa … Representations of Space in The White Tiger • Literal and figurative significance of particular buildings – malls, apartment blocks, call centres, tea-shops, restaurants. • Politics of inclusion/exclusion? Space as hierarchical. • The White Tiger and South African resonance? • Representations of micro and macro spaces in text? • Collisions of the local and global. SPATIALITY = absolutely key concern throughout the novel. Colonialism, Postcolonialism, Neocolonialism? Representations of the Nation Space (pp.21-22) • (For this land, India, has never been free. First the Muslims, then the British bossed us around. In 1947 the British left, but only a moron would think that we became free then). Now the foreigners have long abandoned the Black Fort, and a tribe of monkeys occupy it. - From Macro to Micro Spaces in The White Tiger … Laxmangarh Fort Space and Segregation – critical preoccupation throughout The White Tiger (pp.23-24) • The rickshaw-pullers parked their vehicles in a line outside the tea shop, waiting for the bus to disgorge its passengers. They were not allowed to sit on the plastic chairs put out for the customers; they had to crouch near the back, in that hunched-over, squatting posture common to servants in every part of India. My father never crouched – I remember that. He preferred to stand, no matter how long he had to wait and how uncomfortable it got for him. I would find him shirtless, usually alone, drinking tea and thinking. Rickshaw Pullers in Delhi Buildings and/as Taxonomies of Power (pp.129-130) • I don’t know how buildings are designed in your country, but in India every apartment block, every house, every hotel is built with servants’ quarters – sometimes at the back, and sometimes (as in the case of Buckingham Towers B Block) underground – a warren of interconnected rooms where all the drivers, cooks, sweepers, maids, and chefs of the apartment block can rest, sleep, and wait. When our masters wanted us, an electric bell began to ring throughout the quarters – we would rush to a board and find a red light flashing next to the number of the apartment whose servant was needed upstairs. • Underground histories? The “worm’s-eye view”? Taxonomy 1. The science of classification, esp. of living and extinct organisms 2. A scheme of classification Representations of the Landlords in The White Tiger (p.24) • The Buffalo was one of the landlords in Laxmangarh. There were three others, and each had got his name from the peculiarities of appetite that had been detected in him. The Stork was a fat man … He owned the river that flowed outside the village, and he took a cut of every catch of fish caught by every fisherman in the river, and a toll from every boatman who crossed the river to come to our village. Landlords and The Ordering of Space (p.25) • All four of the animals lived in high-walled mansions just outside Laxmangarh – the landlords’ quarters. They had their own temples inside the mansions, and their own wells and ponds, and did not need to come out into the village except to feed. Town View of Laxmangarh Dark Satire in The White Tiger (p.48) • There were three black goats sitting on the steps to the large, faded white building; the stench of goat faeces wafted out from the open door. The glass in most of the windows was broken; a cat was staring out at us from one cracked window. A sign on the gate said: LOHIA UNIVERSAL FREE HOSPITAL PROFOUNDLY INAUGURATED BY THE GREAT SOCIALIST A HOLY PROOF THAT HE KEEPS HIS PROMISES Welcome Home (p.85) • Kishan had a lot of news for me – and since this was the Darkness, all of it was bad news. The Great Socialist was as corrupt as ever. The fighting between the Naxal terrorists and the landlords was getting bloodier. Small people like us were getting caught in between. There were private armies on each side, going around to shoot and torture people suspected of sympathizing with the other. Representations of the Great Socialist in The White Tiger (pp.103-104) • The great man folded his palms and bowed all around him. He had one of those either/or faces that all great Indian politicians have. This face says that it is now at peace – and you can be at peace too if you follow the owner of that face. But the same face can also say, with a little twitch of its features, that it has known the opposite of peace: and it can make this other fate yours too, if it so wishes. Space and Delineations (p.82) • On the road to Laxmangarh – Everyone stared at us. Some children began running alongside the car. Mr Ashok waved at them, and tried to get Pinky Madam to do the same. The children disappeared; we had crossed a line they could not follow us beyond. We were in the landlords’ quarter. Indicators of ‘Progress’? Politicians and Their Priorities (p.96) • If I were making a country, I’d get the sewage pipes first, then democracy, then I’d go about giving pamphlets and statues of Gandhi to other people, but what do I know? I’m just a murderer! Balram outside the President’s House (pp.135-136) • Somewhere inside those domes and towers that were all around me, the big men of this country – the prime minister, the president, top ministers and bureaucrats – were discussing things, and writing them out, and stamping papers. Someone was saying, ‘There, five hundred million rupees for that dam!’, and someone was saying, ‘Fine, attack Pakistan, then!’ Gurgaon – an American Oasis (pp.121-122) • Ten years ago, they say, there was nothing in Gurgaon, just water buffaloes and fat Punjabi farmers. Today, it’s the modernest suburb of Delhi. American Express, Microsoft ,all the big American companies have offices there. The main road is full of shopping malls – each mall has a cinema inside! So if Pinky Madam missed America, this was the best place to bring her. • Mall as exclusionary space – South African resonance? “We – a dozen or so chauffeurs – were waiting for our masters to finish their shopping. We weren’t allowed inside the mall, of course – no one had to tell us these things.” Sigma Mall - Bangalore Space and Ecology. The Road as Defining Symbol? (pp.137138) • A man driving a buffalo cart had stopped in front of us; a pile of empty car engine oil cans fifteen feet high had been tied by rope to his cart. His poor water buffalo! To carry all that load – while sucking in this air! The autorickshaw driver next to me began to cough violently – he turned to the side and spat, three times in a row. Some of the spit flecked the side of the Honda City. I glared – I raised my fist. He cringed, and namasted me in apology. ‘It’s like we’re in a concert of spitting!’ Mr Ashok said, looking at the autorickshaw driver. Well, if you were out their breathing that acid air, you’d be spitting like him too, I thought. An Autorickshaw The White Tiger Modes of Transport and Taxonomies Delhi, Pollution and the Car as ‘Egg’ (pp.133-134) • The pollution is so bad that the men on the motorbikes and scooters have a handkerchief wrapped around their faces ... as if the whole city were out on a bank heist that morning. There was a good reason for the face masks; they say the air is so bad in Delhi that it takes ten years off a man’s life. Of course, those in the cars don’t have to breathe the outside air – it is just nice, cool, clean, airconditioned air for us. With their tinted windows up, the cars of the rich go like dark eggs down the roads of Delhi. Every now and then an egg will crack open – a woman’s hand, dazzling with gold bangles, stretches out of an open window, flings an empty mineral water bottle onto the road – and then the window goes up, and the egg is resealed. Policing Space (p.148) • The [mall’s] glass doors had opened, but the man who wanted to go into them could not do so. The guard at the door had stopped him. He pointed his stick at the man’s feet and shook his head – the man had sandals on his feet. All of us drivers too had sandals on our feet. But everyone who was allowed into the mall had shoes on their feet. Instead of backing off and going away – as nine in ten in his place would have done – the man in the sandals exploded, ‘Am I not a human being too?’ Construction and Globalization (p.158) • There is construction work in any direction you look in Delhi. Glass skeletons being raised for malls or office blocks; rows of gigantic T-shaped concrete supports, like a line of anvils, where the new bridges or overpasses are coming up; huge craters being dug for new mansions for the rich ... ‘The city is going to be like Dubai in five years, isn’t it?’ ‘Five?’ I said contemptuously. ‘In two years!’ ‘Look at that yellow crane. It’s a monster.’ It was a monster, sitting at the top with huge metal jaws alternately gorging and disgorging immense quantities of mud. Like creatures that had to obey it, men with troughs of mud on their heads walked in circles around the machine; they did not look much bigger than mice. Even in the winter night the sweat had made their shirts stick to their glistening black bodies. Reification The process by which you convert a person, abstraction etc. mentally into a thing. In The White Tiger – where does animal end and human begin? Where does human end and machine begin? Bangalore Hotels as status symbols, pp.199-200 • Now, Delhi is full of grand hotels ... but the five-stars of Delhi are things of mystery to me. I’ve been to all of them, but I’ve never stepped past the front door of one. We’re not allowed to do that; there’s usually a fat guard at the glass door up at the front, a man with a waxed moustache and beard, who wears a ridiculous red circus turban and thinks he’s someone important because the American tourists want to have their photo taken with him. If he so much as sees a driver near the hotel, he’ll glare – he’ll shake a finger like a schoolteacher. That’s the driver’s fate. Every other servant thinks he can boss over us. Space and Class, pp.203-204 • Now, PVR Saket is the scene of a big cinema, which shows ten or twelve films at the same time, and charges over a hundred and fifty rupees per film – yes, that’s right, a hundred and fifty rupees! That’s not all: you’ve also got plenty of places to drink beer, dance, pick up girls, that sort of thing. A small bit of America in India. Beyond the last shining shop begins the second PVR. Every market in Delhi is two markets in one – there is always a smaller, grimier mirror image of the real market, tucked somewhere into a by-lane. This is the market for the servants. I crossed over to this second PVR – a line of stinking restaurants, tea stalls, and giant frying pans where bread was toasted in oil. The men who work in the cinemas, and who sweep them clean, come here to eat. The beggars have their homes here. PVR Saket The ‘Other’ PVR Saket Policing Borders – South African Resonance? (p.222) • Coloured pieces of glass have been embedded into the boundary wall of Buckingham Towers B Block – to keep robbers out. When headlights hit them, the shards glow, and the wall turns into a Technicoloured, glass-spined monster. To what extent is The White Tiger all about boundaries/borders and the crossing of those borders? Examples – Animal/Man Darkness/Lightness Rural/Urban Regressive/Progressive Local/Global Immoral/Moral Those excluded by walls/Those protected by them Space, Exercise and the Absurd, p.225 • See, with all these late-night parties, all that drinking and munching, the rich tend to get fat in Delhi. So they walk to lost weight. Now, where should a human being walk? In the outdoors – by a river, inside a park, around a forest. However, displaying their usual genius for town planning, the rich of Delhi had built this part of Gurgaon with no parks, lawns, or playgrounds – it was just buildings, shopping malls, hotels, and more buildings. There was a pavement outside, but that was for the poor to live on. So if you wanted to do some ‘walking,’ it had to be done around the concrete compound of your own building. Less is More in The White Tiger, p.220 • A rickshaw-puller drove up next to me, a small, unshaven, stick-thin man, who looked dead tired as he wiped his face and legs clean with a rag, and went to sleep on the ground. On the seat of his rickshaw was a white advertising sticker: IS EXCESS WEIGHT A PROBLEM FOR YOU? CALL JIMMY SINGH AT METRO GYM: 9811799289 The mascot of the gym – an American with enormous white muscles – smiled at me from the slogan. The rickshaw-puller’s snoring filled the air. The Rooster Coop Why such an important motif in The White Tiger? The Rooster Coop – from the literal to the figurative, pp.173-174 • Go to Old Delhi, behind the Jama Masjid, and look at the way they keep chickens there in the market. Hundreds of pale hens and brightly coloured roosters, stuffed tightly into wiremesh cages, packed as tightly as worms in a belly, pecking each other and shitting on each other, jostling just for breathing space’ the whole cage giving off a horrible stench – the stench of terrified, feathered flesh. On the wooden desk above this coop sits a grinning young butcher, showing off the flesh and organs of a recently chopped-up, still oleaginous with a coating of dark blood. The roosters in the coop smell the blood from above. They see the organs of their brothers lying around them. They know they’re next. Yet they do not rebel. The do not try to get out of the coop. The very same thing is done with human beings in this country. The Rooster Coop (pp.175-176) • Why doesn’t that servant take the suitcase full of diamonds? He’s no Gandhi, he’s human, he’s you and me. But he’s in the Rooster Coop. The trustworthiness of servants is the basis of the entire Indian economy ... Never before in human history have so few owed so much to so many, Mr Jiabao. A handful of men in his country have trained the remaining 99.9 per cent – as strong, as talented, as intelligent in every way – to exist in perpetual servitude; a servitude so strong that you can put the key of his emancipation in a man’s hands and he will throw it back at you with a curse. “can a man break out of the coop?” pp.176-177 • Only a man who is prepared to see his family destroyed – hunted, beaten, and burned alive by the masters – can break out of the coop. That would take no normal human being, but a freak, a pervert of nature. It would, in fact, take a White Tiger. You are listening to the story of a social entrepreneur, sir. Foreshadowing in The White Tiger • Consider how and why Adiga plays with the genre of detective/crime fiction … • “Once you walk into the house, you will see – if any of them are still living, after what I did – the women. Working in the courtyard” (p.21) • Impact on reader? The White Tiger, p.320 • I think the Rooster Coop needs people like me to break out of it. It needs masters like Mr Ashok … to be weeded out, and exceptional servants like me to replace them ... I have switched sides: I am now one of those who cannot be caught in India. At such moments, I look up at this chandelier, and I just want to throw my hands up and holler, so loudly that my voice would carry over the phones in the call-centre rooms all the way to the people in America: I’ve made it! I’ve broken out of the coop!