I first read E. M. Forster’s A Passage to India after seeing the David Lean movie in 1984, just eight years after the appearance of Edward Said’s groundbreaking book Orientalism. I recently did the works in reverse order—I read the book, then saw the movie. Almost four decades from the first appearance of Said’s book, I am a little embarrassed to say that I still enjoyed a novel about the “Exotic East.” Written in 1924, during the waning years of the British Empire, A Passage to India argues for the impossibility of dialogue between colonizers and colonized. The religion of each reflects insurmountable national, cultural, and ethnic differences. Forster contrasts the exuberance and passion of Hinduism against the dry, sterile religion of the English.
He seems to see English Anglicanism as empty formalism. Most of the British are either explicit atheists or implicit nonbelievers. “God save the King” appears to be the most religious sentiment the Anglo-English hold. At the same time, the moral sensibility of the English—at least so far as truth-telling is concerned—trumps the instinctive prevarication practiced by all native Indians. Forster’s racist descriptions of the “natives” made me cringe, though at times it was clear he was reflecting the attitudes of those he was criticizing and not his own. The friendship between Mrs. Moore (no relation!) and Dr. Aziz, however, indicates the possibility of transcending religious and ethnic differences. They meet in a mosque, in which Mrs. Moore demonstrates her sensitivity to religious practice by removing her shoes. During the trial of Dr. Aziz, her name is invoked by the barrister for the defense, and the crowd begins chanting “Esmiss Esmoore, Esmiss Esmoore,” attributing some type of spiritual power to the elderly woman. Mrs. Moore is an idealization of the inherently religious individual, an orientalized Brit. Dr. Aziz is more interesting. As a Muslim, he understands Hindu festivals no better than the English; as an Indian, he feels the injustice of prejudice and the sting of the demand for servility. What does all this say about religion? Forster seems to find no meaning in religion, neither the dry Anglican kind nor the passionate Indian kind. People are base and noble with or without religion, he seems to be saying. It makes no difference. And what does this say about Orientalism? I fear losing Hermann Hesse’s Siddhartha, Rumor Godden’s Black Narcissus, Somerset Maugham’s The Razor’s Edge, and other delightful novels because they are Euro-centric creations. The only way around this dilemma is to admit that the problem of Orientalism persists: could they not find an actual Indian actor to play Dr. Godbole in the movie version of A Passage to India rather than put Alec Guinness in brown-face? And if you feel guilty enjoying orientalist pleasures, I recommend reading Odysseus Abroad by Amit Chaudhuri (Knopf 2015). The adventures of Ananda Sen in Margaret Thatcher’s London are every bit as exotic to the native Indian as the exploits of Adela Quested in the fictional Chandrapore. E. M. Forster. A Passage to India. First published 1924.
Rick Freeman
9/4/2015 07:10:33 pm
Dear Becky:
Rebecca Moore
9/6/2015 02:48:15 pm
Kipling, eh? Right-o! And I'm always reading antidotes to the British Raj, e.g., just finished "Chef" by Jaspreet Singh, about the Indian-Pakistan border conflict (*after* Partition). Comments are closed.
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Author Rebecca Moore is Professor Emerita of Religious Studies at San Diego State University. She is currently Reviews Editor for Nova Religio: The Journal of Alternative and Emergent Religions and Co-Director of The Jonestown Institute. Archives
December 2021
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