This book was written by my Great Grandmother based on stories told to her by her husband, my Great Grandfather. Growing up, there was a stack of these hard bound books on the shelf in the upstairs room of my Grandparent's house. For years, they were just a part of the background scenery. It took far too long for me to ask about them.
The story goes that my Great Grandfather had worked in the oil fields of Burma for British Petroleum in the 1920's. After he married my Great Grandmother she thought his stories from those days could be made into a fictional novel that would be their ticket to some success. They used a publishing house in Kansas City to self-publish. Based on the quality and the design of the covers it looks like they spent some good money to have these made. It was finally published in 1941.
But the book didn't sell and was a disappointment to my Great Grandmother. It's believed that she never wrote anything of length again.
A few years ago, when my Grandparents were downsizing and selling their house, I asked if I could have a copy. They said take as many as I wanted, they had been sitting on that upstairs shelf for fifty years. So I grabbed a couple as family keepsakes.
Last month I finally got around to reading the novel. I'm not sure why it took so long for me to delve in.
It's not a bad read. The writing is in the highly fraught and dramatized style popular in the pulp novels of the 20's and 30's. The dialogue does seem dated and stilted. But the story is compelling enough to keep your interest. Unfortunately, casual racism does persist throughout the book, reflecting common attitudes toward people of color by Americans and Europeans living in Burma in the 20's. The attitude of the protagonists is very colonial and dismissive of the Burmese natives. Those who are not white are often portrayed as greedy, scheming, and harboring malicious intent. At best, the indigenous peoples are described as simple minded and incapable of sophisticated thought.
At the same time, there are very progressive descriptions of Islam, Buddhism and Christianity. Native religions are treated with respect and tolerance. It's a strange contradiction to see the fairly enlightened and positive way Islam and Buddhism are treated in this book.
The highlights of the book are the landscape descriptions. Another contradiction, at times the writing seems contrived and cliche. But the landscape is described throughout the novel so impressively it reminded me of F. Scott Fitzgerald. How can one paragraph be so beautifully written and the next so clunky? The descriptions of markets, jungles, villages, fruits, vegetables, flora and fauna bring an air of authenticity to the story. This makes sense as my Great Grandfather had actually lived in Burma for a number of years.
So, it's doubtful I would recommend this book to someone outside the family. The value for me was it provided a small connection to my great grandparents. My Great Grandfather died long before I was born and my Great Grandmother died when I was very young. It's quite a feat to write a novel and I appreciate the effort involved. It has always been my goal to someday publish a novel. Seems to run in the family.
