prendrelemick
08-10-2016, 10:18 AM
Kim. By Rudyard Kipling
A wonderful read, exactly the kind of thing I like. A book that takes you on a journey through exotic lands and peoples, written with a loving and unfussy hand.
Rudyard Kipling is very much out of favour these days because of his unabashed imperialism. Poems like “The White Man's Burden” terms like “Jingoism” and stories of pipe smoking, plucky Brits outwitting hostile foreigners, have stuck to his reputation. But whatever his political views, he was a writer of great skill and suppleness. He remains the youngest ever English speaking winner of the Nobel prize for Literature – a recognition of his outstanding contribution to the short story in particular. Kim is one of the very few full length novels from his enormous body of work.
The First Plot
Kim is an Irish bred streetwise orphan boy, known throughout the bazaars and markets of Lahore as "Friend of all the world". He falls in with an old Lama who is searching for the mystical River of the Arrow where he can wash away his sins and free himself from the wheel of life.
They travel the Highways and byways of Northern India together. With his quick wits and old head on young shoulders, Kim becomes the Lama's Chela (disciple) looking out for him and allowing people to “ gain merit” by feeding and sheltering the Holy man as they go.
Kipling's regard for India, its landscapes, it's people, it's traditions, shines strongly through each passage, it is a work of love. His knowledge seems deep and intimately detailed. He is able to give people of different tribes and different trades their own regional personalities and speech patterns. His descriptions give life to the landscape too. From the hustle and bustle of the teeming cities to the majestic mountains of the Himalayas. He paints them with his heart into our minds eye.
~
Behind them an angry farmer brandished a bamboo pole. He was a market-gardener, Arain by caste, growing vegetables and flowers for Umballa city, and well Kim knew the breed.
'Such an one,' said the lama, disregarding the dogs, 'is impolite to strangers, intemperate of speech and uncharitable. Be warned by his demeanour, my disciple.'
'Ho, shameless beggars!' shouted the farmer. 'Begone! Get hence!'
'We go,' the lama returned, with quiet dignity. 'We go from these unblessed fields.'
'Ah,' said Kim, sucking in his breath. 'If the next crops fail, thou canst only blame thine own tongue.'
The man shuffled uneasily in his slippers. 'The land is full of beggars,' he began, half apologetically.
'And by what sign didst thou know that we would beg from thee, O Mali?' said Kim tartly, using the name that a market-gardener least likes. 'All we sought was to look at that river beyond the field there.'
'River, forsooth!' the man snorted. 'What city do ye hail from not to know a canal-cut? It runs as straight as an arrow ' and I pay for the water as though it were molten silver. There is a branch of a river beyond. But if ye need water I can give that - and milk.'
'Nay, we will go to the river,' said the lama, striding out.
'Milk and a meal.' the man stammered, as he looked at the strange tall figure. 'I - I would not draw evil upon myself - or my crops. But beggars are so many in these hard days.'
'Take notice.' The lama turned to Kim. 'He was led to speak harshly by the Red Mist of anger. That clearing from his eyes, he becomes courteous and of an affable heart. May his fields be blessed! Beware not to judge men too hastily, O farmer.'
'I have met holy ones who would have cursed thee from hearthstone to byre,' said Kim to the abashed man. 'Is he not wise and holy? I am his disciple.'
And according to Kipling's memoirs, that was going to be that. He was going to write an Indian Don Quixote, a physical, allegorical and spiritual journey set in India, without much plot, until his Mother said to him “Don't you hide behind Cervantes, You know you couldn't write a plot to save your life!” And so we have a plot. (You should always listen to your mother).
The Second Plot
Kim's ancestry is discovered by his father's old regiment and he is recruited into “The Great Game” by a British spy-master - a role he is eminently suited to - intercepting letters, passing messages, facing danger, thwarting Russian ambitions and so on. To be honest it fits in well with the wanderings of Kim and the Lama. It also gives the story some marvellous characters of depth, and the juxtaposition of the Lama's philosophy – to reject and rise above trivial worldly concerns - and the low down worldly machinations of The Great Game, is I think the major theme of the book.
At the end Kim is sat under a tree with the Lama. He is aware of two paths, the spiritual and the secular, he thinks both are attractive. We don't know which he will choose – it could go either way.
A wonderful read, exactly the kind of thing I like. A book that takes you on a journey through exotic lands and peoples, written with a loving and unfussy hand.
Rudyard Kipling is very much out of favour these days because of his unabashed imperialism. Poems like “The White Man's Burden” terms like “Jingoism” and stories of pipe smoking, plucky Brits outwitting hostile foreigners, have stuck to his reputation. But whatever his political views, he was a writer of great skill and suppleness. He remains the youngest ever English speaking winner of the Nobel prize for Literature – a recognition of his outstanding contribution to the short story in particular. Kim is one of the very few full length novels from his enormous body of work.
The First Plot
Kim is an Irish bred streetwise orphan boy, known throughout the bazaars and markets of Lahore as "Friend of all the world". He falls in with an old Lama who is searching for the mystical River of the Arrow where he can wash away his sins and free himself from the wheel of life.
They travel the Highways and byways of Northern India together. With his quick wits and old head on young shoulders, Kim becomes the Lama's Chela (disciple) looking out for him and allowing people to “ gain merit” by feeding and sheltering the Holy man as they go.
Kipling's regard for India, its landscapes, it's people, it's traditions, shines strongly through each passage, it is a work of love. His knowledge seems deep and intimately detailed. He is able to give people of different tribes and different trades their own regional personalities and speech patterns. His descriptions give life to the landscape too. From the hustle and bustle of the teeming cities to the majestic mountains of the Himalayas. He paints them with his heart into our minds eye.
~
Behind them an angry farmer brandished a bamboo pole. He was a market-gardener, Arain by caste, growing vegetables and flowers for Umballa city, and well Kim knew the breed.
'Such an one,' said the lama, disregarding the dogs, 'is impolite to strangers, intemperate of speech and uncharitable. Be warned by his demeanour, my disciple.'
'Ho, shameless beggars!' shouted the farmer. 'Begone! Get hence!'
'We go,' the lama returned, with quiet dignity. 'We go from these unblessed fields.'
'Ah,' said Kim, sucking in his breath. 'If the next crops fail, thou canst only blame thine own tongue.'
The man shuffled uneasily in his slippers. 'The land is full of beggars,' he began, half apologetically.
'And by what sign didst thou know that we would beg from thee, O Mali?' said Kim tartly, using the name that a market-gardener least likes. 'All we sought was to look at that river beyond the field there.'
'River, forsooth!' the man snorted. 'What city do ye hail from not to know a canal-cut? It runs as straight as an arrow ' and I pay for the water as though it were molten silver. There is a branch of a river beyond. But if ye need water I can give that - and milk.'
'Nay, we will go to the river,' said the lama, striding out.
'Milk and a meal.' the man stammered, as he looked at the strange tall figure. 'I - I would not draw evil upon myself - or my crops. But beggars are so many in these hard days.'
'Take notice.' The lama turned to Kim. 'He was led to speak harshly by the Red Mist of anger. That clearing from his eyes, he becomes courteous and of an affable heart. May his fields be blessed! Beware not to judge men too hastily, O farmer.'
'I have met holy ones who would have cursed thee from hearthstone to byre,' said Kim to the abashed man. 'Is he not wise and holy? I am his disciple.'
And according to Kipling's memoirs, that was going to be that. He was going to write an Indian Don Quixote, a physical, allegorical and spiritual journey set in India, without much plot, until his Mother said to him “Don't you hide behind Cervantes, You know you couldn't write a plot to save your life!” And so we have a plot. (You should always listen to your mother).
The Second Plot
Kim's ancestry is discovered by his father's old regiment and he is recruited into “The Great Game” by a British spy-master - a role he is eminently suited to - intercepting letters, passing messages, facing danger, thwarting Russian ambitions and so on. To be honest it fits in well with the wanderings of Kim and the Lama. It also gives the story some marvellous characters of depth, and the juxtaposition of the Lama's philosophy – to reject and rise above trivial worldly concerns - and the low down worldly machinations of The Great Game, is I think the major theme of the book.
At the end Kim is sat under a tree with the Lama. He is aware of two paths, the spiritual and the secular, he thinks both are attractive. We don't know which he will choose – it could go either way.