Tuesday, April 10, 2012

The Comedians

The Comedians. Greene, Graham. New York: Bantam, 1966.

My seventh Greene novel and, with two exceptions (The Human Factor and The Ministry of Fear), this one like the others does not take place in England. On the surface this novel is typical Greene. We have a world weary protagonist with hazy ties to Britain who lives in a moderately decrepit and unstable country in the tropics. That sentence can apply to both Our Man in Havana and The Heart of the Matter.

However the themes of these three books are distinct. HOTM is more so about the fatal consequences of being unable to distinguish between love and pity and how both concepts are embedded in Catholic doctrine. OMIH is lighter fare that concerns how the cold war can manifest itself as a farce. Both of these novels also dabble in the common theme of exposing the cruelty and oppression of the respective governments. But the incision is blunt. Greene has too much to say about Catholicism in HOTM. In OMIH (one of his “entertainment” class of novels) the intention is to provide humor. It is important to note that OMIH takes place about a year before Castro’s revolution so the criticism leveled toward the government refers to that of Fulgencio Batista. Overall though, Greene’s intention is not in castigating that regime, which led some readers (including Fidel Castro himself) to point out how Greene had essentially ignored the less than noble characteristics of Batista’s regime. Perhaps the proof is in the very disclaimer: OMIH is an entertainment, not a novel as far as Greene is concerned. Then again, so too is The Ministry of Fear, a novel so entrenched in espionage and government deception that it borders on frightening.

The difference between those novels and The Comedians lies in the direct attack on the government of Duvalier. HOTM is more about moral corruption and how empathy can have tragic consequences. The government in that novel is colonial (the narrator Scobie is a British police officer in Sierra Leone), and necessarily unfair, but Graham Greene is not writing an expose on African governments and their internal problems. In The Comedians he is doing nothing short of that except this time the target is the Haitian government of “Papa Doc” Duvalier.

One of the main points of this novel is to suggest that the labels associated with government are only as flexible as their leaders allow them to be. Haiti is a country with a democratic government in this novel (I believe it still is today). Greene presents it as a dictatorship. Duvalier rules the country by fear. He’s a phantom in this novel. No one can see him because he encloses himself in the royal palace. His henchmen, the Tontons Macoute’, haunt the country and use intimidation and violence to keep the people in order. There seems to be no system of law and civilians are not allowed to bear arms.

The irony of all this is that, on paper, Haiti is a democratic country that is devoted to capitalism and opposed to totalitarianism. The reality is that almost no one seems to profit from this supposed free market economy. Almost everyone in Haiti (besides bureaucrats, foreigners and royal sycophants) is destitute and hungry. The Haitian government keeps presenting itself as a vital force in opposition to Cuba (which by 1966 is under Communist rule unlike in OMIH), which justifies American aid until it stops due to (it is implied) human rights violations. Haitian society is segregated; Haitians are allowed no voice of opposition toward the government and their thugs while foreigners can only hide in their respective embassies. Port-au-Prince is under curfew and electricity is cut off for half of the day. The implicit message here is that, bad as things may be in Cuba, they most certainly cannot be worse than in Haiti, regardless of the respective political ideologies of each nation.  Greene seems to explain as much beautifully by means of Dr Magiot who claims to be "a supporter of Communism" in a country in which the idea of being Communist is basically illegal.

The back cover of my edition suggests that the three main characters in the novel (Brown, Smith and Jones) are secretly working together to overthrow Duvalier. This is entirely untrue. It is made evident throughout this novel that Duvalier and his troops hold all the cards. This book is more so about three foreigners and their experiences in Haiti. The end result is that one dies and the other two flee to the Dominican Republic; a destination simply dripping with irony since geographically that country is the other side of Haiti (or more accurately Hispaniola) but in actuality it is entirely different (read: tolerable, decent).

Of all the Greene novels that I have read so far, this one best shows Greene's remarkable imagination regarding character. Brown is the narrator, a man who seems an enigma and it's no wonder; even his name is in doubt. He was born in Monaco, that much is certain but who his parents are is harder to place. His mother's nationality is never revealed (since Brown himself does not know it) and even on her deathbed Brown's mother does not reveal whether her supposed royal name is a farce or not. The father is supposedly an Englishman named Brown but all knowledge about him stops there. Brown is raised by Jesuits after his mother essentially drops him off there and they, such morally bound men, keep him around until he skips school to gamble at Monte Carlo and they decide that it is time to emancipate him from his religious upbringing. What's really interesting about the way Greene describes Monte Carlo is the way in which it is a transitory place in which almost no one is actually from there. Brown is a man with little connections to Monaco, France or England even though he spends time in all three countries. His detachment from his homeland is almost American in its emptiness. Part of this is certainly due to his being essentially an orphan (even though he meets his mother again briefly before her death), but there is certainly a statement being made about Monaco by Greene. It's uncanny to read about a European city that seems to lack that sense of place that we so commonly expect of places founded centuries ago.

And then you have Smith the American idealist. Smith seems to be comedic relief in the beginning of the novel due to his obsession with vegetarianism and the belief that foregoing meat would somehow limit the viciousness of man if only more would adopt that practice. Yet despite his quirks Smith is truly "salt of the earth." He is miles ahead of his contemporaries in terms of civil rights and genuinely expects the best of mankind. No wonder then that Haiti ultimately disappoints him. His plan was originally to install a kind of vegetarian institute in the yet to be built city of Duvalierville. Brown sees the project as doomed from the start but the incredible patience of Smith (who once ran against Harry Truman as a kind of vegetarian political statement) eventually wavers and Haiti breaks his American optimism. In a way Smith is a stereotypical sort of American; no talent for foreign languages, always ready to preach and stick his nose in foreign affairs, firmly resolved in his belief that democracy causes a perfect union among peoples, etc. But there is little denying that he is as saintly as they come and Brown admits as such.

I have done this novel a disservice upon focusing on only two of its characters given that there is a large supporting cast and Greene, as is typical of great writers, makes them each memorable in some way. Funny, enlightening, and piercingly aware of the fierceness of totalitarianism and authority. Typical Graham Greene. Woe betide readers of this novel who believe in the "republic" of Haiti. 

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