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- <text id=92TT2479>
- <title>
- Nov. 02, 1992: Reviews:Books
- </title>
- <history>
- TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1992
- Nov. 02, 1992 Bill Clinton's Long March
- </history>
- <article>
- <source>Time Magazine</source>
- <hdr>
- REVIEWS, Page 71
- BOOKS
- Magic Carpet Ride
- </hdr><body>
- <p>By PICO IYER
- </p>
- <p> TITLE: THE ENGLISH PATIENT
- AUTHOR: Michael Ondaatje
- PUBLISHER: Knopf; 307 pages; $21
- </p>
- <p> THE BOTTOM LINE: A hauntingly beautiful tale weaves myths
- and metaphors around the end of Empire.
- </p>
- <p> Four figures move like shadows through an abandoned villa.
- All four of them have converged on this Tuscan space, without
- lives or real identities, in the limbo at the end of war. All
- four pass in and out of consciousness, half-daydreaming in a
- crumbling palace "lit only by candlelight and now and then light
- from a storm, now and then the possible light from an
- explosion." One of them is an "English patient," tarred black
- by burns and lost now in his memories of map-making explorations
- in the deserts of North Africa. One is a morphine thief named
- Caravaggio. The third is an Indian Sikh, called Kip, working for
- the English as a bomb defuser. And the sun around which all
- these "planetary strangers" turn is a 20-year-old female nurse
- from Canada.
- </p>
- <p> Out of these ghostly materials Michael Ondaatje has
- fashioned a magic carpet of a novel that soars across worlds and
- times. Ondaatje, a Sri Lankan poet who lives in Toronto, has
- gained considerable acclaim before, most notably for his
- one-of-a-kind memoir of colonial Ceylon, Running in the Family.
- He has also established himself as one of the most inspired
- chroniclers, and exemplars, of the new cross-cultural mix taking
- shape all around us, able to light up Salman Rushdie-land with
- a visual daring that must have moviemakers salivating. Two weeks
- ago, The English Patient won England's prestigious Booker
- Prize, sharing the award for best novel of the year with Barry
- Unsworth's Sacred Hunger.
- </p>
- <p> The heart of the book is the slow unraveling of the
- faceless patient's life, educed by morphine and haunted by
- scenes from Cairo nights when it was necessary "to proceed into
- the plot of the evening, while the human constellations whirled
- and skidded around you." That is very much how Ondaatje
- proceeds. One by one he introduces his characters, and slowly
- he unlocks their secrets, leading us through their lives as
- through the darkened corridors of a huge and secret house. Loves
- flicker, footsteps echo, lines of poetry recur. All four feel
- their way through darkness, by hand and memory, and with all the
- phantom sensuousness that darkness brings. The effect is a
- little like Borges on a love-potion.
- </p>
- <p> What makes it shine is that Ondaatje alchemizes these
- abstract spaces with a poet's fluent radiance. Scene after scene
- shimmers with the jeweled brilliance of Arab poetry. The Indian
- alone, in the course of his wanderings, walks through cities
- where corpses are strung from trees and sleeps beside angels in
- deserted churches. He sees the Virgin Mary emerging from the sea
- (until her batteries give out), and he finds himself one of 12
- defusers alone in a city without lights. Woven through such
- flights are colorful threads of historical arcana: richly
- researched evocations of the "desert Englishmen" of the '30s,
- lilting allusions to Herodotus and Kipling, catalogs of the
- winds that blow across the sands. The result is a realism that
- could not be more magical: "I carried Katharine Clifton into the
- desert, where there is the communal book of moonlight. We were
- among the rumour of wells. In the palace of winds."
- </p>
- <p> In time, it begins to become clear that the bandaged
- European, on his sickbed in 1945, stands for many things that
- are lost and wounded. And in the dying light of Empire, Ondaatje
- shows us the end of one world and the birth of another --
- deracinated, post-national -- where people must be mapmakers in
- a different kind of desert. Kipling has been eclipsed by Kip.
- Occasionally, the author's design becomes almost too insistent,
- finding in Hiroshima and Nagasaki not only the explosion of the
- whole world of nation-states, but also the final cruelty of the
- West upon the East. By then, however, he has thoroughly
- enveloped the reader in as rare and spellbinding a net of dreams
- as any that has emerged in recent years.
- </p>
-
- </body></article>
- </text>
-
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