The Quiet American by Graham Greene

A few months ago, I attended my cousins wedding reception at a lake side resort in Kochi. The guests included many well-heeled Indians and their American friends of different colors. The liquor flowed freely. Prawn and beef balls were being fried. But the bar was to be closed at exactly 10 pm. Kerala is under partial prohibition and the government does not allow alcohol consumption beyond that hour. My uncle had to pay thousands of rupees for an alcohol license that would be valid only for that evening. When I arrived at the party, I was told that there was a long queue for drinks at the bar when it opened. But after the initial rush the guests had moved towards the dance floor with their drinks. But I sensed an anxiety and restlessness in the air as the clock ticked. As if civilization would end at 10 pm when the bar closed. That was the extent of personal freedom permitted by the new religious fundamentalists and ambitious politicians of the emerging nation that is India. The frontier for the Indians who looked towards the West and the tourists ended at 10 pm. Beyond 10 pm, the conservatives and moralists were in control. They had taken over in a state where even the Brahmin and Muslim owned restaurants would serve alcohol during my father’s youth.

The Quiet American is set during a time when British control over the rest of the world is on the wane. Its frontiers are shrinking. New frontiers emerge every day. Thomas Fowler, the novel’s narrator is an ageing hard drinking, opium smoking British reporter based in Vietnam. His future is uncertain. Pyle the American is trying to steal his pliant Vietnamese girlfriend Phuong. Pyle represents a young America taking over the reins from a tired Britain, represented by Fowler. Fowler’s plight and his metaphysical musings reminded me of the socially liberal people of Kerala who have been silenced and are unable to fightback in the decaying civilization that is India. In his inability to take sides, Fowler is a lot like Mr.Brown in The Comedians. He is on a downward spiral, keeping his melancholy at bay with alcohol and opium.

The Quiet American is vintage Graham Greene. His evocations of Vietnamese evenings fill you with longing. The similes and metaphors are pertinent and at times devastating. Yet, it is filled with action. It is erotic and intriguing. It is a relentlessly bleak little novel about ageing and the feeling of being alienated in a rapidly changing world where the old certainties cannot be taken for granted anymore.