NOSTALGIA OF THE DISPLACED COLONIZER IN A. ALBERTS’S THE ISLANDS
A thesis presented to the Graduate Program in English Language Studies in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirement for the Degree of Magister Humaniora
(M. Hum) in English Language Studies
by Rini Susriyani
03 6332 011
SANATA DHARMA UNIVERSITY YOGYAKARTA
A thesis
NOSTALGIA OF THE DISPLACED COLONIZER IN A . ALBERTS’S THE ISLANDS
by Rini Susriyani
A thesis
NOSTALGIA OF THE DISPLACED COLONIZER IN A. ALBERTS’S THE ISLANDS
Presented by Rini Susriyani / 03 6332 011
Statement of Originality
ABSTRACT
Rini Susriyani, 2007. Nostalgia of the Displaced Colonizer in A. Alberts’s The Islands. Yogyakarta: English Language Studies. Graduate Program. Sanata Dharma University.
There is an assumption that writings written by the Westerner about the non-West are often implicated in Orientalism, a concept propagated by Edward Said as the West’s discursive methods to dominate the non-West. This discourse is assumed to be most evident in colonial writings, in which the Western authors are members of the colonizing society dominating peoples regarded as different and thus inferior.
ABSTRAK
Rini Susriyani, 2007. Nostalgia of the Displaced Colonizer in A. Alberts’s The Islands. Yogyakarta: English Language Studies. Program Pascasarjana. Universitas Sanata Dharma.
Teori poskolonial, terutama teori-teori mengenai Orientalisme dan diskursus kolonial, menyatakan bahwa literatur Barat mengenai bangsa dan kultur non-Barat cenderung menggambarkan bangsa non-Barat sebagai sosok yang tidak semaju dan selogis masyarakat Barat, bahkan sebagai bangsa yang kurang beradab. Gambaran ini lebih nyata lagi dalam tulisan-tulisan mengenai masa kolonialisme, dimana penulis Barat yang sekaligus adalah bagian dari bangsa yang menjajah dan menguasai bangsa lain tentunya lebih punya alasan untuk menggambarkan bangsa terjajah tersebut sebagai lebih rendah dan kurang maju dibandingkan bangsa penjajah.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
To God, my parents, and everyone else who have helped me through all this, and who have put up with me.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Title page...
Approval page...i
Acceptance page... ii
Statement of originality... iii
Abstract...iv
Abstrak...v
Acknowledgement... vii
Table of contents...viii
Chapter I: Introduction... 1
1. Background of study...1
2. Objective of study...5
3. Research questions...6
4. Chapter presentation... 7
5. Benefits of the study... 8
Chapter II: Literature Review... 9
1. Three interpretations of A. Alberts’s The Islands... 9
2. Said’s Orientalism, colonialism, and literature...13
3. Theoretical framework...20
4. Research method...21
1. The superior Westerner...23
2. The desiring Westerner... 43
3. The threatened Westerner... 48
4. Chapter conclusion... 52
Chapter IV: Portrayal of Native Characters...54
1. The native as inferior Other... 55
2. The native as unreadable Other... 62
3. The native as appalling/appealing Other... 68
4. Miscellaneous portrayals... 74
5. Chapter conclusion... 78
Chapter V: Continuity and Discontinuity of Orientalism... 80
1. Continuity of Orientalism... 80
2. Discontinuity of Orientalism... 87
3. Chapter conclusion... 100
Chapter VI: Conclusion... 101
CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION
1. Background of Study
The text chosen for this study is A. Alberts’s The Islands (1999), a collection of eleven short stories recounting experiences in colonial Indonesia. Part of the choice is due to the author’s reputation: Albert Alberts (1911 – 1995) was a notable literary figure in Netherlands, being rewarded five literary awards during his lifetime (source: web.inter.nl.net/hcc/Her.Jansen/alberts.htm). He had been in Madura as a colonial official from 1939 to 1942. The short stories which make up The Islands were written sometime after his return to the Netherlands in 1946 and were published together in 1952 under the collective title De eilanden (The Islands in Dutch). The text examined in this study is the 1999 English language edition.
The other part of the choice is due to the overall impression conveyed by the text itself. On the text’s back cover this promotional line can be found: “a masterpiece of Dutch colonial fiction from one of the most important writers of modern Dutch literature”. Comprising this “masterpiece” are stories set in mostly unnamed colonial islands where the unnamed Western narrators interact with other Westerners and the frequently unnamed native characters. Despite strong implications that the stories’ setting is colonial Indonesia, clear indications of the setting and identity of the native characters are practically non-existent. Several native characters with significant roles are given Western-sounding names. Nevertheless the introductory chapter by E. M. Beekman, editor of the English edition, confirms that Alberts based his stories on real places and real people he had known in Madura (Alberts, 1999: 3)1. The vagueness with regard to the Indonesian setting and characters may as well be the author’s
1 Introduction by E. M. Beekman, A. Alberts, The Islands, 1999: 3; from this point on all references
characteristic style; nonetheless this treatment of the native raises the question on what kind of a picture this purported “colonial fiction” draws of colonial Indonesia, especially given the author’s background as a once active participant in colonial maintenance.
In the light of postcolonial studies, Western texts about non-Western cultures, principally cultures subjected to Western imperialism, are often perceived as being implicated by the practices of “Orientalism” which emphasize the distinction between the West and the non-West, and in which the former is usually privileged over the latter. In the case of cultures subjected to Western imperialism the texts would have located the opposition between the dominating West and the subjugated locals, resulting in the condescending attitude towards the native. All Western colonial texts are not necessarily affected by this attitude, but due to “colonial discourse” which distorts the reality of colonial relationships authors might accept the disparity between the colonizer and the colonized as the way the relationship should have been. Even if they claim to be impartial and give detailed and possibly sympathetic account of the colonial landscape and culture, their claim “simply serves to hide the imperial discourse within which they are created”. Hence, to read colonial texts entails paying attention to their underlying colonialist (as in assuming the superiority of the colonizer at the cost of the colonized’s rights) ideologies and processes (Ashcroft et al, 1998: 42, 192, 1989: 5; Said, 1979: 7).
Therefore the starting assumption of this study is that Alberts’s The Islands
ex-colonizer. Yet to claim a text to be automatically colonialist simply because it is written by a Westerner and about a colonized non-Western land will be too generalizing. As stated by Elleke Boehmer in her book Colonial and Postcolonial Literature, colonial literature “was never as invasively confident or as pompously dismissive of indigenous cultures as its oppositional pairing with postcolonial writing might suggest” (Boehmer, 1995: 4). In other words, the so-called colonial literature is not as two-dimensional as the postcolonial assumption may suggest. The Islands itself is presented in Beekman’s introductory chapter as projecting an attitude which is not so colonialist to the local Indonesians and it can be viewed as an exploration of the Westerner’s loneliness in and out of the colonial territory. The Western characters are isolated from any human contact, echoing the dilemma of the colonizers who were unable to fit into life in the European centre after spending many years in the colony (TI, p. 6). The expressions of loneliness and yearning constituting the principal mood of the stories can be related to the author’s being, in a sense, a displaced ex-colonizer and through his writing is reaching out to the already distanced colonial home. Something of this can be traced in Alberts’s own words where he said that he wrote “from nostalgia, that is to say, in order to be imprisoned again” (TI, p. 9).
possibility that The Islands, despite being written by a person who had been an active participant in the colonial system, may not entirely be condescending to the native. Nonetheless this possibility is practically based on the statements made by a Westerner (i.e. E. M. Beekman), who through the aptly titled “introduction” chapter is primarily trying to introduce A. Alberts and his work to the reader and do not touch the text’s representations of the native Indonesia in detail. Thus this study takes into consideration both the possibilities that Alberts’s The Islands may still be affected by Orientalist discourse and that it may provide a counter-hegemonic voice to the discourse.
2. Objective of Study
This study’s objective is therefore to examine how the relationship between the locals and the Westerners is presented in the text. This is to find out about the extent of Orientalist attitude in the text and the possibility of contradictions to the discourse in it. My assumption is that this text is not entirely Orientalist and this can be proved through analysis of the portrayal of the characters, both native and Western. My study is not meant to be an apology for A. Alberts or The Islands, but rather to reveal the text as a multi-layered work in which Orientalist attitude is possibly fissured with expressions that counter the discourse.
this problem is that Western writings of the post-colonial era are considered not immune to the effects of the discourse that privileges the West over non-Western cultures. The persistence of that discourse is explored by Edward Said in his influential work Orientalism (1978). Orientalism is a Western way to “know” the “Orient” and as a way of knowing it becomes the West’s way of maintaining power over the East by authorizing their statements and views of it. The discursive influences of Orientalism persist into beyond colonial times in various textual representations of the non-Western, including literature. During the period of imperialism Orientalist discourse informed the ways the colonizers used to deal with the colonized, and therefore it was part of the colonial discourse or the system in which colonial relationships were defined (Ashcroft et al, 1998: 167-8). Hence although The Islands is not a true colonial text it can be suspected of containing Orientalism, given that it is a Western writing about a non-Western territory that the West once colonized. Furthermore, it was written after Alberts’s return to the Netherlands due to decolonization. I am not saying that Alberts had a grudge against Indonesians, but to some extent the displacement might have shaped the execution of his stories.
3. Research Questions
to be detected in the representation of the relationship between the two. Analysis on the portrayals is hoped to reveal not only the effects or continuity of Orientalism in the text, but also how this continuity is “discontinued” or disrupted by portrayals which may diverge from expectations of a thoroughly Orientalist text. I am using the term “native” here as the most common and, in my opinion, the most understandable term when talking about relationships between Westerner and non-Westerner, particularly in the colonial sense. Although it may seem that my use of the term is based on the dichotomy of Westerner/colonizer versus non-Westerner/colonized, my study is not meant to further emphasize the dichotomy but rather to see how interactions between the two groups affect the Westerner group.
The questions this study seeks to answer are therefore:
1. How are the Western characters portrayed in the stories? 2. How are the native characters portrayed in the stories?
3. What do the portrayals reveal about the continuity and/or discontinuity of Orientalism in the text?
4. Chapter Presentation
studies portrayals of the native characters. And chapter V studies how these portrayals counter or confirm the concept of Orientalism and the probable reasons for them to turn out so. The last chapter is an overall conclusion of the study.
5. Benefits of the Study
CHAPTER II LITERATURE REVIEW
1. Three Interpretations of A. Alberts’s The Islands
This section presents three studies or interpretations of Alberts’s The Islands
that act as the texts to which I may compare my own interpretation. Texts written in English about The Islands are very rare, either in book form or as online articles, whereas articles in Dutch are simply inaccessible to me. Due to this limitation I found only three interpretations which I regard as helpful. The first interpretation is E. M. Beekman’s introductory chapter featured in The Islands; the second is a short analysis by Rob Nieuwenhuys, an authority on Dutch colonial literature; and the third is a reader’s commentary on the Amazon website.
Beekman was the editor of the translation project of which Alberts’s The Islands was included, as well as a noted scholar of Dutch colonial literature. In his introductory essay he focuses on Alberts’s use of images and writing style to explore the theme of isolation. The island setting stands as an image of the (Western) characters’ loneliness and Alberts’s indirect and vague writing style helps in establishing the sense of remoteness. Beekman finds the theme of isolation in most of the short stories: it is most evident in stories like “Green” and “The Swamp”, and is insinuated in stories like “The House of the Grandfather” and “The Unknown Island”.
to another work of Alberts’s in which the lead character seems to have found strength in his isolation by bonding with nature. Beekman believes that some of the characters in The Islands—particularly the characters in “Green” and “The Hunt”—are presented as suffering because of their disregard of the (colonial) nature and thus in a way denying their own selves. Eventually it can be said that The Islands depict a “journey back to one’s own self”, where characters either have to find non-material meaning to their “journey” in the colonial world or suffer loneliness and dissociation from their true nature (TI, p.16). The second side is more depressing: the characters are too attached to the islands and upon returning to their home country consequently feel like “strangers” among their own people. In addition to being an image of physical and emotional isolation, Alberts’s islands also serve as an ambivalent “haven for [Westerners] who feel the desire to escape the mainland” (TI, pp. 6-7). This “ambivalence” is present in the plight of the characters that become alienated in both the colony and their home country. The same feeling apparently was also experienced by Alberts who admitted in an interview that his writings were means for recapturing his past (TI, p. 9). For characters set in this second side there is practically no escape; even friendships cannot be depended upon to ease the loneliness caused by separation from the islands (TI, p. 17).
seems to be interested in Alberts’s technique in executing peculiar effects in his work, although he does mention Alberts’s use of several motifs which he associates with the author’s personality. He discusses a great deal of Alberts’s use of ironic tone and compressed, repetitive sentences. Nieuwenhuys believes that this style expresses Alberts’s own alienation from reality which is extended into his theme (Nieuwenhuys, 1999: 290-1). The major theme Nieuwenhuys discusses is communication problem, although in his analysis this implies loneliness as well. Almost similar to Beekman, Nieuwenhuys states how this communication problem exists only between humans but not between human and the “mute nature” (Nieuwenhuys, 1999: 293). Two stories that Nieuwenhuys analyzes a bit more extensively are Alberts’s first story “Green” and seventh story “The Hunt”. He nonetheless pays attention only to Alberts’s technique in executing these stories. But in “The Hunt”, Nieuwenhuys particularly marks the ending, in which the narrator cremates the body of the fugitive Florines, as indicating how Alberts made himself present in the story and his feelings of being connected with the hunted man (Nieuwenhuys, 1999: 294).
The third interpretation I found is not much of an analysis than a short commentary, but I think it is helpful as an example of what readers may think of The Islands. As mentioned earlier, there are practically no English articles on The Islands
and altered identity as he interacts with the locals and native nature that is “as fertile as a womb of a young woman”. The reviewer assumes that The Islands is Alberts’s form of reminiscence of his life in colonial Indonesia, basing the assumption not only on the content of Alberts’s narratives but also on his vague and indirect writing style which forces the reader to freely interpret the context. Hence, according to the reviewer, it is necessary to Beekman as the editor to provide explanatory preface, introduction and endnotes (from www.amazon.com).
These three interpretations reveal the common thread of seeing Alberts’s The Islands as a reflection of the author’s personal issues, either issues arising from his experiences as a colonizer or from his own personality, emphasizing the text’s theme of loneliness, and noting its vague wording. The interpretations nonetheless do not talk about how Alberts presents Indonesian characters in his stories and how the Western characters interact with them. Although the Indonesian reviewer above talks about the change the Western character undergoes from his interaction with the “fertile” native, she does not explain what that change is and how it happens.
The interaction between the native and the Western characters in The Islands,
2. Said’s Orientalism, Colonialism and Literature
Orientalism does not always have negative connotations as today’s impression suggests. Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary defines Orientalism as “a trait, custom, or habit of expression characteristic of oriental peoples”, and “scholarship or learning in oriental subjects” (1990: 832). Similar definition can be found in a number of online sites. One website, for instance, defines Orientalism as “the study and exploration of the Orient by Occidentals”, resulting in “dictionaries, encyclopedias, translations, travel accounts, novels, and paintings” which focused on “real and imaginative scenes of [Eastern] exocticism” (from answers.com). These definitions characterize Orientalism as an academic and aesthetic study on Eastern cultures which is mainly taken up by Westerners. As such, Orientalism acquire negative connotations as prejudiced outsider interpretations of the East, which is the viewpoint articulated and propagated by Edward W. Said in his 1978 book
Orientalism.
dominating, restructuring, and having authority over the Orient” (Said, 1979: 3). As a discourse Orientalism is more pervasive than it is as an academic study. Its practitioners—the Orientalists—comprises not only scholars but also artists, writers, philosophers, and politicians. Orientalism acts on them as a style of thought based upon the ontological and epistemological distinction made between “the Orient” and “the Occident”, giving rise to reports, stories and theories which highlight this perceived distinction (Said, 1979: 2).
As a style of thought Orientalism is latent or remains dormant within the mind until given an outlet as physical expression. Latent Orientalism is the unconscious certainty about the Orient, which contains all the stereotypes of the Orient seen as the opposition of the West. These include views of the Orient as backward, sensual, and passive. The noticeable expressions of Orientalism in texts, speech, and actions are the manifestation of latent Orientalism, and therefore these expressions are called
manifest Orientalism (Said, 1979: 206).
Despite his goal to expose the superior and oppressive attitude underneath the seemingly objective texts on the non-West, Said nonetheless asserts that Orientalism is not a Western plot to hold down the Oriental world but rather a rendition of the distinct Orient into scientific and aesthetic texts. This act of construing the non-West is in itself an elaboration of “a certain will or intention to understand, in some cases to control, manipulate, even to incorporate, what is manifestly different (or alternative and novel) world” (Said, 1979: 12).
particular—in part due to the land’s importance as colonial territories. Since Europe approached the Orient as its conqueror and superior, its views of the land were affected by this attitude. It justified its colonization of the non-Western cultures by representing them as depraved and uncivilized, thereby in ‘need’ of the West’s control and guidance (Said, 1979: 95; Ashcroft et al, 1998: 41). This justification and ‘beautifying’ of an otherwise sordid practice is part of colonial discourse, a system of knowledge and beliefs which ensures the superiority of the West vis-à-vis the colonized non-West. This discourse made statements specifically about colonies and colonial peoples, about colonizing powers and about the relationship between these two, based on assumptions about the centrality and superiority of the colonizing West. This was often achieved through the process called “the othering”, whereby the colonizer and the colonized were constructed in oppositional position to each other as “self” and “other” respectively. The colonized gained the identity of and was characterized as “other” through discursive constructions which emphasized their racial and cultural differences from the colonizer. The privilege was obviously given to the colonizing “self” (Ashcroft et al, 1998: 169-172).
was explored by Said with regard to texts deemed as objective or transcending the material world, such as scientific and aesthetic texts. This is what Orientalism is about: the effects of colonial discourse expressed in texts, including literature.
Imaginative literature to Said is not free from ideological influences such as that of colonial discourse, since as an individual living in and influenced by his or her societal circumstances an author cannot escape his or her actuality. Therefore a Western author writing about the Orient would approach his or her subject as a Westerner would; if the author lived in the period of colonialism, he or she would have been aware of the power his or her nation held over the Orient and would have had definite views on other cultures, races, and these others’ position within the colonialist relations. Even if the author was not interested in colonial relationships and tried to be impartial, the discursive beliefs of what the non-West should be imposed limits on what the author was saying about the land, especially regarding the differences between the Western “us” and the Oriental “them” (Said, 1979: 2, 9-11, 43, 158).
practices which described their Western protagonists as being threatened or already damaged by their encounters with the untamable native land; thus indicating the fear which accompanies confrontations with the non-European and the unknown, often perceived as savage and harmful due to its “otherness” (Boehmer, 1995: 50).
Since this study examines a text purported to be a “colonial” text, it is important that we comprehend what colonial literature is. While in its general meaning colonial literature invokes the image of texts about colonial periods, Elleke Boehmer divides the term into “colonial” literature from “colonialist” literature. “Colonial literature” to her means writings concerned with colonial perceptions and experience, written mainly by European metropolitans, but might also by creoles and natives, during colonial times. On the other hand, “colonialist literature” comprises writings that were specifically concerned with colonial expansion. On the whole, colonialist literature was literature written by and for colonizing Europeans about non-European lands dominated by them and which embodied the imperialists’ point of view. It was informed by theories concerning the superiority of European culture and the rightness of empire, and therefore its distinctive stereotyped language was geared to mediating the white man’s relationship with colonized peoples (Boehmer, 1995: 2-3). Boehmer, however, warns that the unit known as colonial literature (which is the umbrella term including “colonialist literature” as well) should not be viewed as the adversary of the native. Colonial/ist literature need not always signify texts rigidly associated with ideas of native oppression: “Colonial, or even colonialist writing was never as invasively confident or as pompously dismissive of indigenous cultures as its oppositional pairing with postcolonial writing might suggest” (Boehmer, 1995: 4).
colonialist literature into “the imaginary” and “the symbolic”, and further divides the latter into two sub-categories. What he means by imaginary colonialist literature are texts that represent the native as the negative reflection of the imperialist self. This type of literature is automatically more saturated in Western hegemony. On the other hand, symbolic texts are more aware of the mechanisms of this hegemony and are willing to examine the problems of colonialist mentality and its encounter with different cultures. Symbolic literature is divisible into texts that appear “symbolic” on the surface but are actually “imaginary” on emotional level, and texts that focus on rigorous examination of the “imaginary” mechanism of colonialist mentality (JanMohamed, 1997: 18-23).
words, it is a nostalgic literature. Being a professor in American academic surroundings, Beekman proceeds to compare Dutch colonial literature to that of the American South. He claims that the two genres are similar in that both are “as much aware of its demise and yet, not defiantly but wistfully, determined to record its own passing, the inevitable defeat of the more recent masters, a faith in more traditional virtues, and that peculiar offbeat detail often called ‘gothic’ or grotesque’”. In both literatures the major theme is loneliness (Beekman, 1999: xii-xiii).
3. Theoretical Framework
As mentioned earlier, the three interpretations of The Islands are used to compare my study with. Theories of Orientalism and colonial discourse are used as the basis for the examination of The Islands in its portrayals of the Westerner and the native. The emphasis is on the theories’ concept of separation between the Westerner and the non-Westerner, as in how the latter is represented in the discourse and what the Westerner gains of the representation.
4. Research Method
CHAPTER III
PORTRAYAL OF WESTERN CHARACTERS
This chapter examines portrayal of Western characters in the short stories, which I classify into portrayals of the Westerner as superior, desiring, and threatened. The classification is not really based on any theoretical concepts since it is based on my own perception of the portrayals, but nevertheless one may link the classification to some postcolonial concepts. By “superior” I mean Western characters portrayed in the stories as treating or perceiving the local Indies (people or land) as their inferiors. This “superior” portrayal has the connection with Orientalism as a style of thought which basically paints the non-West as inferior as a mode to ensure the West’s authority (Said, 1979: 7). By “threatened” I mean the characters portrayed as feeling threatened (real or imagined) by the local Indies (people or land). This portrayal is akin to Boehmer’s idea of the “fear” on the side of the Western colonizers due to confrontations with the unfamiliar and potentially dangerous Other (Boehmer, 1995: 50, 69). By “desiring” I mean portrayal of the Western characters as showing strong interest in the local Indies (people or land), sometimes to the point of obsession. The use of the term “desiring” will make it seem that I am using Robert C. Young’s concept of “colonial desire”2; but my usage of the term does not mean sexual interest in the native. Rather, I use the term in its broadest sense as a strong attraction to something which does not necessarily involve sexual attraction.
2
My classification of the portrayals is not very neatly divided; they often overlap as the Western characters may be portrayed in more than one ways.
1. The Superior Westerner
As a text about life in colonial territory which was written by an ex-colonial official, the assumption is that in The Islands the Western/colonizing characters will most likely be presented in more positive light as opposed to the non-Western/colonized characters. This is due to Orientalist discourse which in this text might have also taken the route of colonial discourse. In colonial discourse the separation is between the colonizer and the colonized, in which the difference and depravity of the latter is emphasized in order to maintain the authority of the former. As a discourse, this tendency to give emphasis to the colonizer’s superiority might even present despite the author’s genuine empathy with the colonized and/or antipathy toward the atrocities of the colonial system (Ashcroft et al, 1998: 42).
In The Islands there are seven stories in which the Western characters are presented as regarding themselves as more superior to the native characters. It is first found in the first story “Green”, in which the reader is introduced to two Dutch officials assigned to a remote island covered in its most part by a dense forest. One of the Dutchmen, the narrator, became obsessed with finding the edge of the forest while the other was so broken by his isolation that he finally committed suicide. The main problem of these characters is isolation, but accompanying this isolation is contempt for the locals.
protagonist. As a narrator, his interpretations of the story’s events become the only angle available to the reader. As a protagonist, his problem—finding the edge of the island’s forest—is the main drive of the plot. Peartree is a secondary character who functions first as a ‘catalyst’ for the narrator’s ‘conflict’ with the native setting, since it is he who first shows the narrator the prospect of finding an edge to the forest and later goads him to pursue his desire. His second function is as a foil to the narrator: his struggle against the forest mirrors the narrator’s own conflict but with more intense emotions, as shown by his nervous break-down and eventual suicide. It can also be said that his emotional problem serves as a foretelling of what may happen to the narrator after his failed conquest of the forest. This character’s name, Peartree, suggests another function which is identified by Beekman in his introductory essay: as an aspect of nature and of the narrator’s subconscious which the narrator denies and subsequently damages, therefore resulting in his own ruin (TI, p. 13).
Although the narrator is obsessed with the native forest, he also looks down on it. His obsession consists of finding the forest’s edgeor its end; therefore, it is as if he is trying to end the dominance of the forest and replace it with his own. He in fact calls this plan as a “conquest” of the forest; so his next step after reaching the edge is to turn around, face the forest, and laugh at it (TI, p. 34). And in a manner recalling that that he uses on the villagers, he plans to show “benevolence” to the forest after conquering it by building a round house which “has no preference for the forest or the open plain” (TI, p. 42).
But the narrator’s characterization suggests a self-centered person who can hardly feel empathy for others, not even for his European colleagues. This is first shown in a scene where he is seeing off the captain of the ship which took him to the island. The captain is carried by two bearers to the ship, just like the narrator beforehand. The narrator is satisfied to see that the captain’s bearers do not include the village chief, since this means he is regarded as more important than the captain (TI, p. 27). His obsession in the forest is also buttressed by his desire to control it and turn it into a private fantasy. He is only obsessed with ‘his’ forest section, which is the northern section. At the first stage of his obsession he believes that everything has its place and fears that people may trespass into his place (TI, p. 31). He even considers his visits to Peartree as an annoying obligation and the other man an ‘intrusive’ threat to his personal fantasy (TI, pp. 39, 41).
reputation and because he needs the man’s help (TI, pp. 29, 34, 40). There is a suggestion that he feels a bit guilty for having used the native man for his own selfish purposes; a guilt which apparently stems from his growing respect for the man (TI,
pp. 33, 40). However, any guilt he feels does not deter him from taking advantage of the village chief and at some point intentionally (and openly, for that matter) ‘forsakes’ him for the sake of getting information from another village chief (TI, p. 33). The narrator feels more comfortable with village chiefs that look like “typical innkeeper” of his country of origin and therefore are assumed to be more trustworthy with regard to the information he needs to fulfill his obsession (TI, p. 32). It is implied that he erases his guilt by telling himself that his village chief admires him for being more considerate than other officials (Peartree), because he does not start “barking” orders at the very point of his arrival (TI, p. 40). And afterwards he believes he is doing the village chief a ‘favor’ by reducing the number of the settlements he has the villagers to build.
To some extent the narrator is more considerate than Peartree. At least he feels some guilt and shows some respect to the village chief (bowing “politely” in his direction) when he detects the other man’s sadness for his persistent inquiries on the northern forest (TI, p. 33). But all these redeeming traits seem to be made into his characterization to emphasize his later fatal mistake in exploiting nature and mistreating his fellow European; since he actually has the capacity to sympathize with others and yet chooses to egoistically pursue his obsession.
for and manipulation of the native. The narrator’s motivation in driving the native to aid him in his quest is entirely for his own benefit and he fails to acknowledge their reluctance as something other than an annoying obstacle to his goal. He has moments of compassion and respect for at least one of the natives, but refuses to follow them up. But although the terror and near-insanity he finally suffers from can be viewed as a punishment for disregarding the native people, the way the plot is constructed suggests that the narrator is more at blame for ignoring his fellow European and mistreating the forest. The narrator’s most obvious ‘punishment’ is his defeat by the native forest and not by the people. The strongest blow delivered is the death of a fellow European, not through the sordid practices of the colonial system but through the narrator’s own insensitivity. In the end the native people are still there to be ordered around, as in making the coffin for Peartree and digging his grave (TI, p. 45).
This emotional problem induced by isolation is actually a re-creation of a real person’s. In Beekman’s notes, Alberts said that he based “Green” on a real incident in which a Dutch official suffered nervous breakdown because of his isolation in the dense Papuan jungle. The official would walk for days just to see a fellow European (TI, notes n. 1, p. 134). But Peartree’s affliction is made more unbearable by the ignorance of his fellow European. The severity of his condition is also attributable to his and the narrator’s characterizations: both men are unable to let themselves being comfortable around each other and to relate with each other. But while this characterization sets Peartree up as the convenient ‘victim’ of loneliness and another man’s insensitivity, his own insensitivity to the native villagers does not contribute into his victimization. It can be said that Peartree’s fall is accelerated by his disregard for the native, but similar to the narrator’s predicament, the native that truly factors in this fall is the setting, not the people.
The primary Western characters in this story are the narrator, and to some extent Taronggi III and his predecessors. While the narrator’s role is obviously as the narrating voice, the protagonist of this story is more likely Taronggi III—and by extension his father, Taronggi II—because it is the issues dealt by the Taronggi family that are the story’s main concern. The reader is not asked to pay more attention to the narrator’s problem in getting more kapok exported. Taronggi III, however, may not be a full-blooded European. His grandfather, Taronggi I, married on the island and his Tarragona house was at first thought by the narrator as belonging to a local islander because of the land it is on. However, the doctor, a recurring character, explains that although the land belongs to Taronggi III’s “nephew”, the house itself belongs to Taronggi III (TI, p. 53). Very likely this nephew is a native and that makes Taronggi III more of an Indo-Europeanor mixed-blood. Also in “The Treasure” Taronggi III and the native dignitary Mr. Zeinal are the only ones not drinking liquor, although in yet another story (“Beyond the Horizon”) it is stated that Taronggi III always has his guests’ preferred drinks ready (TI, pp. 103, 125). This may also prove that Taronggi III is not a full-blooded European and is likely following Islamic traditions.
Therefore their attachment to it is meaningless as they have no substantial relation with it.
The narrative reveals that Taronggi III and his father feel oppressed by the tyranny of their fathers and subsequently project their need for affection to their grandfathers. However, the grandfathers they adore are not the real persons. The two Taronggi (re)create their own images of the grandfathers, which is extended to the image of the European city of Tarragona whence Taronggi I came. Taronggi II creates a “fantasy” about living for sometime with the grandfather he never knew in a European town he also never knew. While his son creates a fantasy about a house his grandfather had left in Tarragona and which he tries to re-construct on the colonial soil. Unlike his father, Taronggi III cannot make up a story in which he lived with his grandfather in a European city because Taronggi I never returned to his home country and chose instead to settle and build a career in the colonial territory (despite sorrowfully since he was stranded, p. 53). Taronggi III manufactures a story in which his grandfather, instead of being marooned, was in love with the colonial islands, so much so that he refused to leave it. But rather than loving the islands like his grandfather allegedly did, Taronggi III seems ironically to be more attached to Tarragona.
creates fantasies about a man whom he actually knew well. In this sense Taronggi III’s fantasy is more unconnected to reality when compared to Taronggi II’s. At least the latter has (rather) valid reasons to fantasize about a grandfather he never meets. The possibility of having known his grandfather in person also suggests the intensity of Taronggi III’s ‘need’ to distance himself from the colonial territory which his beloved grandfather is reputed to have been in love with.
Since the grandfathers the two men love are re-constructed to fit as the object of affection, the Tarragona city and house they adore are not grounded in reality as well. It is clear in Taronggi II’s case; Taronggi III’s Tarragona house is sort of capturing the image of the town that his grandfather had left in reality. However, the house is built not after the real house but after a postcard picture. It is therefore an imitation of an imitation, in Plato’s words. The narrator observes that the house is empty; this seems like hinting at the emptiness of Taronggi III’s dreams of being re-connected with his European origin. Moreover, because Taronggi III does not know anything about the real Tarragona he has developed a feeling of insecurity. This is evident from his relying on the words of the narrator, just because the latter claims he has been in Tarragona. He keeps asking the narrator if anything of the house should be changed to make it really look like the houses in Tarragona. So deep is his insecurity that he misunderstands what the narrator says about his boss and thinks that the narrator’s boss can help with the changes as well (TI, p. 57).
Westerners for their longing, revealing how empty it really is. But the plot does not reveal which parts of the colonial territory that is worth the affection of the Westerners. The setting and the people are described as mere background, and only play significant role with regard to this ‘worthiness’ in a flashback about how Taronggi I came to the island and in Taronggi III’s fantasy about the reason his grandfather chose to stay.
If Taronggi III and his father, Taronggi II are seen as mixed-blood, there will be an irony in their problem. Taronggi II and Taronggi III are unable to relate to the land of their birth, which is part of who they are and from which they reap profit; instead they long for a re-connection with the European soil. They do not give the native land the same amount of adoration as they give to (the fantasized) Tarragona. This looks like hinting at the problem of being rootless on the part of people of mixed blood; a problem symptomatic of Indo-Europeans in colonial era, being unaccepted by both the European and local societies but trying to affiliate themselves with the former.
The success of the Taronggi family also hints at an understated issue in the story: the role of colonial trade system. It is tied closely to the plot, with Taronggi III’s reluctance to sell more kapok—and thus ‘sabotaging’ the system—being the catalyst for the narrator to narrate the story of the Taronggi family. Although the plot does not dwell in the colonial problem, it can be detected throughout. The story touches on the position of the colonial territory as an exploitable resource and the narrator’s problem is how to get this colonial business working again. Taronggi III’s action has convinced other merchants not to sell as well and this endangers the system. That is why when the narrator is assigned the job to solve this problem, his boss says: “They’re sitting on it… I am assigning you the task of checking the supplies and if need be to resort to seizure” (TI, p. 52). And the narrator himself is shown saying to the harbor master that “it would be in the interest of the islands to ship as much kapok as possible at all times” (TI, p. 52). Taronggi III, whether as a Westerner or an Indo-European, poses a threat to the colonial system by his wealth and social power, indicating at the vulnerability of the system for depending too much on the merchants.
acquaintance who used to be in his dream-town, is ready to give into anything the narrator—and his boss—wants as long his own problem of having ‘the right house’ is resolved (TI, p. 57). It is implied that the colonial system is safe by the end of the story, through the shrewdness of the narrator and Taronggi III’s attachment to an empty desire. The ‘resistance’ to the colonial system, if any, is resolved to both parties’ satisfaction.
Almost similar to “Green”, the Western protagonist(s) in “The Swamp” display a certain degree of contempt for the native people while being distressed by the land. In this story, the narrator went to see his friend Naman who had moved into a swamp. Soon the narrator found out that his friend had gone insane from the self-induced seclusion in the swamp. The Western characters in this story are the narrator, Naman, and—in a flashback—the European society including Maria Winters, a woman whom Naman desires but could not have. The narrator is the narrating voice that is also actively involved in the action of the story. But despite this he is not the real protagonist because the story’s main concern is Naman’s problems. It can be said that he ‘shares’ the leading man role with Naman since the narrator still has more action than being merely a witness, as well as being emotionally involved in Naman’s plight and in ‘danger’ of being affected by the swamp. The European society functions as the indirect cause of Naman’s self-exile, being unappreciative and derisive toward his exceptional attentiveness. This is figured more clearly in the Maria character, being the girl Naman adores but mocks him instead.
accompanying Naman in the swamp and which is encountered by the narrator. She functions in tandem with the native swamp, being a ‘creation’ of it and apparently evoked by Naman to ease his loneliness. For this reason, this character will be discussed in chapter IV, the portrayals of the native section.
Like Peartree, Naman is victimized by the indifference of Western society that he yearns for. His exceptional attentiveness has made him an object of ridicule among the European society. Most unbearable to him is very likely Maria’s disdain. When Naman moves out of the European society into a native village, he is still unable to find a place among the natives. According to him in the village there is “no one to talk to” (TI, p. 69). He then moves into the swamp where he is practically isolated from human companionship. The two native servants accompanying him do not count because they are obviously put in subordinate position to him. Unlike Peartree who still craves for (European) companionship, Naman becomes more comfortable with the lack of company and even shows dread when the narrator asks if there is a village behind his house (TI, p. 68).
might try to control the swamp and make it his, but the native swamp itself has been perceived as ‘evil’ since the beginning—through the narrator’s eyes. Nor is his downfall caused by his mistreating the native people; his retreating into the swamp can be perceived as a mistake since by rejecting the natives’ company he gives himself to the influences of the swamp, but this action is placed in the story in relation to Naman’s failure to connect to human society in general.
It is ironic that Naman’s attentiveness which makes him an outsider among the European society is a trait that is similar to that exhibited by native Indonesians. Attentiveness is part of Indonesian rituals of courtesy which, as stated by Rob Nieuwenhuys, must have been observed by Alberts himself (Nieuwenhuys, 1999: 291). But this trait in Naman suggests artificiality: “his cordiality is stylized” (TI, p. 67). He is actually accused of trying to “build up his career” through his politeness. His insisting on calling Rie Winters with her full name, Maria, reveals more of this artificiality. Perhaps this is not the intention of the story, but Naman’s trait suggests an unconscious similarity with the native people and which he rejects to his own ruin. This brings to mind “Green’s” narrator’s rejection of Peartree, and later on the affiliation the narrator of “The Hunt” feels for the native fugitive.
agreeable Maria. For Naman the native presence is divided into two aspects: the unwanted and the desired. The unwanted aspect is again the native people whose presence serves as an annoyance, although they are also needed to help fulfilling the Westerner’s desire. On the contrary, the native setting becomes the desired presence and even considered as a rescuer from loneliness. Nevertheless the consequence for his choosing the native nature is, as observed by the narrator, that he falls under its influence and driven into insanity. Beekman even goes as far as suggesting that Naman, like Peartree, will commit suicide (TI, p. 7).
The narrator, on the other hand, does not like the swamp; he is terrified by what he sees as the swamp’s corrupting power. But he agrees with Naman about his decision to distance himself from the villagers, although he apparently sees his friend’s decision in relation with human society in general—linking Naman’s reasoning with his failure to interact socially, which in the narrator’s opinion is not an oddity: “there was no one to talk to in the village, and that’s why Naman lived on an island in a swamp, where there was absolutely no one to talk to, where he saw absolutely nobody. Maybe it wasn’t all that crazy. Perhaps it was less bad to be alone than to live in a village where there was no one to talk to” (TI, p. 69). For the narrator, the native is divided into the annoying but harmless people and the dangerous nature.
recounted Naman’s advances on her, (TI, p. 66). The implication is that Naman’s hostility to the narrator is a sort of ‘revenge’ for this conduct and his eventual insanity is a ‘punishment’ for the European society—represented by the narrator—for mistreating one of their own, so much so that the mistreated man retreats to the dangerous native swamp and be taken over by it.
Olon of “The Last Island” also shows lack of respect for the native people. In the story, Olon and the narrator looked for an island which Olon believed to be inhabited by great swimmers. On every island they came about they asked the inhabitants about this island of swimmers, but the islanders never gave clear answers. Finally Olon remembered the island of Raäs on which he once had lived. He decided to sail to the island and stay there.
colonial theme of quest, with the swimmers’ ability representing the colonial riches sought by colonial adventurers.
In another scene the two Westerners stop on an island. It is late and most of the islanders have already retired. But Olon insists that they all be called for questioning, which suggests at both the extent of his determination and his disregard for the natives’ condition (TI, p. 107). And when he has an old man tells a story, he makes comments, or more precisely statements, which the old man obligingly affirms. This manner of getting information, in which the informant is given a number of affirmative statements that the informant will either affirm or deny, is used by many European characters in The Islands. But with Olon, he directs the old man’s story to validate his own assumptions (TI, pp. 109-10). In a sense, the old man’s story becomes Olon’s through this exchange and it is as if Olon is writing his own narrative over the locals’.
At the end of the story, Olon thinks he has found the island he is searching for and decides to stay there and starts a fishing business. There are two villages on the island but Olon does not want to live in either village; he wants to live in a place in between the villages because it is a must that the islanders know that “you are still a little different from them. The people themselves appreciate that sort of thing, too” (TI, p.111).
kind. These he explains as the “annoying idiots who’s gone berserk. For they always went berserk, those rebels, and not a little, either. They thought of themselves as little Messiahs, and the millenniums they offered were restricted to very small areas, where the inhabitants no longer would have to pay taxes. They gathered a number of disciples around them, they usually put on white clothes, and they fought until they died. There never was a happy ending to their revolts. Hence a sufficient reason to have someone say, damn it, when he hears on a Monday morning that such a revolt has broken out in his district” (TI, p. 79). It is clear that the narrator does not find the rebels as a real threat. Despite endangering the colonial system (“no longer would have to pay taxes”), the rebels are perceived as mere annoyance, a bother that would end in a mess due to their own incapability. Their cause for revolt (colonial oppression) is played down and attention is shifted to their ‘abuse’ of religious sentiments. This is echoed in Beekman’s notes that link the rebels to radically religious insurgents in Aceh, who were perceived as not only a threat to the Dutch colonizers but also to more ‘peaceful’ natives (TI, notes n. 2, p.136). As the story progresses the colonial system is never brought to question again; the ‘rebel’ Florines is, after all, not against the colonial authority and is more of a threat to the local people.
invisible, “almost as if apologizing” (TI, p. 91). His sympathy also stems from his conviction that unlike the gamekeepers, wild boars “belonged with the forest, the way the creaking of the trees belonged with the forest” (TI, p. 91). This siding with nature is a recurring trait in Alberts’s characters (TI, p. 10). But despite his sympathy for the native population in general, especially those who are his responsibilities, the narrator overrides this sympathy with a concern for his reputation. When the native soldiers he has engaged for the pursuit of Florines arrive, they are all standing up in their trucks. The narrator wants to stand up with them, but he notices that the soldiers’ commander is sitting next to the driver. He does not want to embarrass this commander and so he too sits next to the other driver. Arriving at the village Florines has burned down, the narrator feels guilty for not coming earlier but then he tells himself that the villagers are not “really looking, they just stood and stared. And I had to go back” (TI, p. 85).
Possibly the least obvious feeling of superiority is shown in “The King is Dead”, where a Western character has an interest in a native character’s ‘struggle’ with his impending death. That Western character is the narrator and although the story that he narrates is another character’s, he is likely the protagonist due to his active part in the story. Another Western character is the doctor, but he only appears briefly and seems to function only as a reliable source of information to ensure the narrator of the seriousness of Mr. Solomon’s (the native character) condition. This character is also a recurring character throughout the book and is supposedly the closest friend thenarrator has on the islands.
“subjects”, owing to of his knowledge how Mr. Solomon is called “King” in the village. But he also sees himself as a fellow king, deserving of a “cheer”. In the previous paragraph, he is telling Mr. Solomon’s wife that he is coming to her house. As the woman nods, the narrator thinks: “What did she understand? That her husband was King and that another kind of king would be visiting him?” (TI, p. 50). These scenes are minor, though, and the narrator is later shown as discarding his view of himself as a king in the face of Mr. Solomon’s death.
The narrator’s characterization also portrays him as being fond of and having respect for some native characters, such as for his clerk who, he admits, “actually knows everything much better” than he but chooses not to let his (the clerk’s) cleverness show (TI, p. 46). He welcomes the man’s opinions, although when it comes to Mrs. Solomon the narrator thinks that the clerk is no more than “textbook example”, therefore lacks the sympathy the narrator has for Mrs. Solomon (TI, p. 49). Yet the narrator feels guilty for being distrustful to Mrs. Solomon and therefore his feelings are apparently partial due to his already established sympathy for the woman’s husband.
colonial people are all automatically alcoholic (“the man…pointing at the four glasses: You people knew what to do with this stuff over there, I believe”; p. 126). This problem of alcoholism is referred to in most of the short stories, but in this story it is not merely a trait of Dutch colonizers but a sign of degeneration. For the narrator, drinking has become the mark of friendship, the means by which people in the colonial territory socialize. It is no coincidence that the doctor pours rum—his favorite drink—at the letter he sent to the narrator. It becomes an emblem of their relationship (TI, p. 127). Drinking is also the sign the narrator automatically thinks of when he remembers his friends in the colonial islands, including the native Mr. Zeinal and the supposedly Indo-European Taronggi III. In Mr. Zeinal’s case the drink is coffee, but it is still included in the context of drinking as the mark of friendship.
2. The Desiring Westerners
watching an interesting drama, albeit cheering silently for Mr. Solomon (TI, p. 49). Only late in the story he approaches the older man when he is already dying, and even then the communication is never established.
Although the narrator’s sympathy is mostly due to his witnessing Mr. Solomon’s life and death problem, there is an implication that he relates himself to Mr. Solomon as ‘kings’ who are about to perish. This is shown in the narrator’s melancholic reverie in the inevitable death when he hears the band playing the funeral march, and when he is shown as perceiving himself as a sort of another king (TI, pp. 47-48; 50). When he hears the band playing, and this is before he knows about Mr. Solomon’s struggle, he thinks: “there was something lugubrious about this music blowing by, something ghostly. A hundred years from now, I thought, someone will stand here and listen to this music and know that it is played by ghosts. By the ghosts of the members of a military band, who are all dead, but who once in a while rise from their graves and meet on the back road to practice for their Last March that will never be held. They are dead. They are all dead” (TI, p. 48). It can be said that the narrator’s interest in Mr. Solomon not only shows his sympathy for an old man fighting for his life, but also indicates recognition of a similar fate: as a colonial official the narrator is a representative of the system itself and this system is struggling to stay alive. By the time this story was written the said system had crumbled down, much like Mr. Solomon does.
swimmers who will aid him in his business. In “The Treasure”, the Westerners and the native person(s) search for a treasure only to abandon the cause lightly in the end. As stated by Beekman, the plot of “The Treasure” seems to state that real colonial treasure is not the material resources but more importantly is the friendship that can be used to ease loneliness. However, the friendship in the story remains to be shared between Westerners, in this case between the narrator and the doctor; the local dignitary Mr. Zeinal is too aloof to earn such friendship. The native dignitary deserves respect, even from Europeans, but that is it.
An obvious but strange interest is found in “The Hunt” where the narrator cares deeply for Florines through associating the fugitive with a boar he once saved. The narrator feels connected to both the boar and the rebel through some ‘similarities’. The narrator has already developed sympathy for things and people repressed by authoritative figures; he believes he understands Florines’s supposed dislike for bustling communities, which may symbolize human society in general (TI, p. 84). For the narrator, Florines and the boar are representations of authority-defying part of himself which he apparently has to repress due to his position. In the end though this desired native becomes repulsive; the moment the narrator sees Florines’s “mean and dirty face”, he kills the man. Afterwards, when he and his men cremates the body, he has the body laid with face down so that he does not see the face and pretend that the body still belongs to his “friend”, the boar (TI, p. 98).
his home country. As discussed before, the narrator sympathizes with Florines and the boars due to his own aversion to the established system. In the flashback it is shown that he first sympathizes with boars that are the opposite of gamekeepers who like to stop people and interrogate them. Then he helps a boar escape because it reminds him of his dog. Afterwards, he identifies himself with the boar when he thinks he is being hunted by a gamekeeper (who probably does not see him). While in hiding, the narrator believes he knows what the hunted boars must have felt. In the last scene of the flashback, the narrator recounts how he is mistaken for a boar while running away in disappointment because the girl he loves calls for another man (TI, p. 93). This last flashback scene is interpreted by Beekman as referring to the links between the boar, Florines, and the narrator’s jealousy, since the name of the narrator’s rival, Albert, has similar meaning with Florines’s name. The narrator’s killing of Florines is therefore interpreted as an unconscious vengeance on his rival in love (TI, p. 14). But this scene probably refers to the narrator’s anger towards society and how it leads him further in his identification with boars, since the intention of his love interest is to hunt boars (TI, p. 92).
In “Beyond the Horizon” the colonial islands become the object of affection and longing for the narrator who has to return to his own home country. He cannot relate anymore to his fellow countrymen and they cannot help him either with their prejudices for the colonial territory and the lifestyle it supports. Nevertheless, the narrator’s longing for the islands is more for the friends he has to leave there. Understandably, his nightmare consists of his coming back to the islands but the people there have all left.
The narrator’s longing for the islands is underlined by an awareness that he would never return to them. This feeling is made severe with the inability of the other characters to relate to or to ease his yearning. In the beginning of the story, however, the narrator has a kind of kindred spirit in the other passengers aboard his ship. All of them apparently feel unconnected to Europe centre but at the same time are aware that they cannot return to the islands. Once they land, however, each takes their own route and the narrator is alone.
Through a letter, we are presented with the doctor who shares the narrator’s loneliness despite still living on the islands. The reason is that all friends the doctor has have been transferred and he is as alone as the narrator in Europe is. But now that they are separated miles away they cannot console each other anymore. The narrator says that he cannot smell the rum poured by the doctor at his letter (TI, p. 127).
probably refers to the inevitable decolonization and therefore the permanent loss, but the narrator in this story is transferred back to Europe instead of being forced to return home by decolonization, and the signs in his dream all read Transferred. Indonesian independence does not appear here and the Westerners leave the colony as transferred employees, not as uprooted colonizers.
3. The Threatened Westerners
It is also common for Western colonial texts to describe their Western protagonists as being threatened or already damaged by their encounters with the untamable native land. This approach indicates the fear which accompanies confrontations with the non-European and the unknown, often perceived as savage and harmful due to its “otherness” (Boehmer, 1995: 50). This section discusses the portrayal of the Western characters as being threatened, whether physically or spiritually, by the native characters. There are only two stories where this sort of portrayal is obvious, all of which involve threat from native lands; the rest are subtle.
Once again, portrayal of this kind is most obvious in “Green”. For the narrator, the local forest is an appalling ‘avenger’. Peartree is broken by the forest from the very beginning of the story. He cannot stand its isolating denseness and therefore it has always been an appalling ‘trap’ to him, which in the end turns murderous after his supposed rescuer—the narrator—ignores him.
it, that really lures him. He twists this prospect into imagined “secrets” which he has to unlock. He becomes rather apathetic to his duty when he turns the forest from a resource to be exploited into his personal “fairy-tale sanctuary”, a “fairy castle with its entrances completely overgrown” (TI, pp. 38, 39), which he is not planning to share with anyone else. His plan to ‘conquer’ it is to force open that fairy castle in order to possess or overrule whatever mysterious wealth stored in it. But the plan ends in failure as the forest changes into an appalling entity.
This story presents the motif of the European going insane from being isolated in a non-European wilderness; a motif which is also explored in Joseph Conrad’s famous tale “Heart of Darkness”. But unlike Conrad’s tale, the European in “Green” does not go insane on account of the atrocities of the colonialist system. He does not perform any atrocity of Conrad’s criterion, either—unless his building unnecessary settlements in the forest, destroying a lot of trees, and manipulating the native islanders into doing all these can be considered atrocities. No obvious casualties on the side of the natives, even if they are forced into aiding the narrator’s ‘conquest’ of the forest. Their form of ‘resistance’ consists only of rather harmless reluctance and attempts on bargaining. The narrator’s fall into insanity is more like the punishment for threatening the tropical forest and neglecting his fellow European, rather than for oppressing the natives. And in Peartree’s case, the effect is more of the classic theme of a European trapped in u
