Just as last year provided me with the ideal opportunity to rediscover Stevenson's "Kidnapped" - another beloved adventure that I had first read and savoured back in my boyhood, albeit in its adapted format - this year, it had to be "King Solomon's Mines" and for a few more similar reasons as well. It was reportedly the favourite adventure novel of my favourite writer Graham Greene and indeed, one can sense just how much Greene owed to Haggard, as much as to Stevenson, Conrad and other writers, in capturing every possible colour and hue of an exotic landscape, even as he himself substituted Haggard's wide-eyed wonder with a more discerning, probing skill at realism. And just as "Kidnapped" helped me to understand just from where did Greene acquire his real mastery at orchestrating action and peril, this beautiful, stirring, heroic, even poignant adventure is also a wonderful piece of effortlessly entertaining, mesmeric storytelling, something for which it does not quite get its due credit.
And by that last line, I mean all those pointless allegations that are made at the novel of being "racist" and "offensive". Bah, as if by attacking a book, written nearly a hundred and forty years years ago, one can solve the still prevalent problem of racism overnight. Hogwash. Read a novel first for its real merits - storytelling, characters, prose, excitement, emotions - and then judge it for what attitudes its characters or author had. And in this particular case, some of these allegations are even ill-founded for reasons that a novice should discover for himself.
But even all these considerations, as I said, are unimportant. What cannot be denied is Haggard's robust and lively style of storytelling. The narrative, as many of you must be already aware of, is a simple wild-goose hunt for the legendary and even mythical diamond mines in the fabled Suleiman Mountains out into the wilds of South Africa, a hunt spearheaded by our three charismatic and more or less chivalrous Englishmen - the formidable Sir Henry Curtis (and the novel's real hero but I will leave him for you to discover), the dainty and wise Captain Good and, of course, the seasoned game hunter and ivory trader Alan Quatermain. These three Englishmen set out into this wild, even dangerous adventure not only to discover the said diamonds but also, in case of Mr. Curtis, to try and find his brother George who had attempted the same journey before and had been lost in the process.
It is a story that has been told repeatedly on the screen in different ways, Quatermain has become something of a household name for today's generation thanks to Alan Moore's revisionist but still respectful graphic novel series of "The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen" (and not, of course, the awful cinematic adaptation of the same even as it starred an ageless Sean Connery as the same character) and I could foresee everything that was about to happen, having read it already at boyhood. But what really caught me off guard was, as I said, Haggard's writing. There is a gentle wit, a lightness of hand and a flexibility of opinion and attitude to be found in this tale which is normally not to be found in other adventures of its time and even of today. The prose is both economical and elegant, wise and wry in equal turns and in between the mesmerising portrait of the landscape, furnished with an unexpected depth of neat detail and the absorbing scenes of excitement, peril, suspense and even warfare, there are also enough tender, even thoughtful beats throughout the narrative. There is Quatermain's voice as the story's narrator, tinged occasionally with his singular opinions and yet also frequently enlivened by his gently droll sense of humour and his uncanny gift of empathy and even compassion. There is also an unmistakable sense of a natural and never exaggerated camaraderie among him, his fellow enterprising English adventurers and even their African counterparts - the enigmatic Umbopa, the dignified Infadoos and the heroic Foulata - are far from empty stereotypes and are instead fleshed out convincingly. Why, even at one point, we and Quatermain even feel a stab of sympathy for the arch nemesis of the narrative itself.
And yet all this subtlety comes to the fore only because Haggard never falters when it comes to orchestrating the superb and still effectively immediate scenes of adventure, danger and classic English stiff-upper-lip in full flow. "King Solomon's Mines" never forgets that it is a first-class adventure novel in the first place and along with the heady servings of excitement and action, it also presents welcome shades of both humour and darkness to enrich the narrative further. There is both warm, gentle hilarity and an unrelenting sense of dread and even impending death to be found in the book and most crucially, the writer grounds both the drama and the fantasy into realism with his peerless ability to focus on details, both whimsical and compelling.
For this is a book that will amuse the boy inside you with the subtle differences among antelopes and the nutritious qualities of elephant meat, a tale that describes at length the strategic tactics employed in that breathless battle scene and takes care to portray the villains with the same capacity of intelligence and cunning as our heroes. It is this seamless balance that he achieves in this novel that established him and this work as the rightful harbinger of a whole new genre of entertaining but intelligent adventure.