The author of the acclaimed Sour Sweet presents a sweeping historical novel about corruption and greed, class, race, love and treachery set in Macao and Canton before and during the Opium Wars of the 19th century. Nominated for England's prestigious Booker Prize.
I wonder how many readers, tempted by the laudatory blurbs on this Booker Prize shortlisted novel, fail to get beyond the first 100 of its 670 pages? It’s not until page 222 that anything of much significance happens, when in 1837 the American trading house Meridian in Canton decides to join the British-dominated illegal trade in opium. Until then, the narrative is largely concerned with the affairs and the abstrusely erudite conversation of two of its employees, Walter Eastman and his preternaturally bright protege Gideon Chase. Their language reminded me of Sir Walter Scott, who coincidentally died in 1832, the year in which the book opens. From there the story of the first Opium War up to the occupation by Britain of Hong Kong is told in a jumble of often conflicting narratives, largely in verbose articles in rival ruminative newspapers – the Monitor, voice of opium traders, and Eastman’s gossipy Bulletin, a more liberal publication given to articles explaining Chinese customs. The contrast between the two calls into question where truth is to be found in historical sources, an issue that finds a parallel in the debate between Eastman, an early pioneer of photography, and the artist Harry O’Rourke about the comparative reliabilities of their respective crafts in the representation of events – the former limited by time and space, the latter a product of creative sensibility. An early essay by Chase for the Bulletin compares Western and Chinese literature, the timeless character of the latter determined, he argues, by a grammar without a past tense. That helps to explain the unusual style of Timothy Mo’s novel which includes many passages – how to construct a Daguerreotype, the death of Pushkin, a new asylum in America for the insane – that have no significance for the progress of the plot. And after much of the first third of the book has described a blossoming romance between Eastman and the trader’s niece Alice Remington, she disappears almost completely. I found many of the digressions enlightening and interesting, giving a sense of the quotidian and irrelevancies of life among these expatriate communities, but the style is for the most part extremely long-winded. Eastman, Chase, O’Rourke and Alice apart, a few other characters emerge as distinct personalities, the rough-spoken New Yorker Ridley, the Portuguese priest Ribiero, but there is not a single native apart from brief appearances by the enigmatic Ow with his arcane beliefs. Mo is brilliant however in capturing the quality of water and rain, of the teaming life of the Pearl River leading to Canton, and the scenes of marine battle, of what was to become known as gunboat diplomacy, of the one-sided assault on Chinese forts and the cruelties imposed particularly by Britain’s Indian sepoys are easily the best in the book. Mo pitches his novel between history and fiction, blurring the distinction in a bogus appendix, supposedly from a 1935 gazetteer that mixes historically accurate biographies, Hong Kong founder Sir Charles Elliott for example, with his own inventions. Eastman does not appear, but Mo mischievously gives him the name of the founder of Eastman Kodak. Chase is a fiction – at least under that name – but is the closest we have to a reliable narrator. What was to be the long-term outcome of these events? Of the Chinese, he remarks, “once roused .. would constitute a most formidable foe” and he has the last word too, that all ends “with the death of all the actors, ourselves among the number.”
Brought this book on holiday with me to read by the pool. It’s been 15 days, I’m only on page 207 and can’t decide what to do with this worst book ever read in all of my 50 years on this planet, and I read all kinds of books constantly. If it weren’t for my love and respect for books I would drop this one in the pool or set it on fire to spare anyone else the pain and wasted brain cells of trying to get through it. If you love reading, don’t even try this one, watching paint dry is way more enjoyable.
I read this book at least 30 or more years ago and there are parts of it that are still with me, particularly the scenes describing events in and around the Opium Wars - and there are a lot of wonderful set pieces and descriptions that draw you into that time. That the historical period is one that I have always been interested in helps. My problem is I didn't love the book and if you are going to read 700+ pages you really need to become invested in a novel or at least one of its characters. But I never was. I can remember one or two but not in depth. I don't even remember how it ends - though I do remember that when I finished 'An Insular Possession' I kept thinking of the Peggy Lee song 'Is that all there is my friend' but instead of thinking 'let's keep dancing' I thought 'I should have gone dancing' instead of reading a novel that affected me so little.
When I sat down to write this review I kept saying to myself regarding my lack of emotional investment, 'Well every novel can't be 'Le Grand Meaulnes' (by Alain-Fournier)' but if you read and are left cold by 'Le Grand Meaulnes' you have only invested the time it takes to read 200 pages. But more importantly I couldn't help thinking 'would the world have lost something essential' if this door-stopper of a book was lost. Which led me to Sappho, the ancient Greek poet whose poems are known only from fragments, but what fragments! Apparently in the great Oxyrhynchus rubbish tip in Egypt they have found a copy of her poems but only as individual letters, not whole words or sentences. Maybe that is an urban myth.
But it made me think if I had to choose between the only copy of either 'An Insular Possession' or of 'Le Grand Meaulnes' being reduced to a pile of letters I would without doubt lose 'An Insular Possession'. That doesn't mean it isn't well written or engaging in parts, it is just too much. How much time do any of us have for 700+ page books? and have we read all the other massive novels out there? We all like to pretend a familiarity with Tolstoy, Mann and Joyce but should you really ignore them and read Timothy Mo?
I read it, I liked it, which is the equivalent of saying 'Let's be friends', it was not the beginning of anything, not even a real memory, only an ending.
First of all, this is ABSOLUTELY not for many readers. It's both long and dense and, in terms of the individuals we follow in extreme close-up, virtually plotless. The only "plot" is in the escalating historical events (around the First Opium War and the founding of Hong Kong) going on about this small, rather genial group of British and American residents. Various threads start only to reveal themselves as irrelevant or far less important than promised. So why did I feel compelled to keep reading it? The best explanation I can provide is Mo's absolute commitment to the world and period he is describing, which often takes the form of ersatz newspaper articles and official bulletins. Having dove in, he never comes up for air himself, but stays with the - often excruciatingly precise - details of this world. Certainly, many aspiring writers will want to follow him at least part of the way if only to admire his extraordinary skill at pastiche - reminiscent of Byatt's in "Possession". It helps that the central characters are all likeable and just different enough to provide variety. One interesting point is that Mo is part Asian himself and surely must have shared some of the indignation I felt at the self-assured assumption of power by the British over another group and culture - power imposed with casual and callous violence. Viewed from some distance, much of what happens is, historically, horrifying. But his presentation is so clear-sighted and free of judgement that the reader is left to consider the larger issues on their own. Tangentially, it is interesting to compare this with Clavell's "Taipan", which portrays an era just after this. It is only fair to say that this is a brilliantly executed book. But it is clearly not for all readers.
3.5 stars. An interesting, overly long, historical fiction novel about the founding of Hong Kong by the British in 1841, around the time of the Opium Wars, set in Macao and Canton. The novel describes in detail the period, landscape and historical facts about nineteenth century Hong Kong. The story is told from different characters perspectives and newspaper excerpts of two publications, the ‘Lin Tin Bulletin and River Bee’ and ‘The Canton Monitor’. There is not much plot momentum, particularly in the first two hundred pages. The main characters are well developed. They include Gideon Chase, a young American clerk and writer for the ‘Lin Tin Bulletin’. He becomes involved in the opium wars, mainly as a reporter, however he finds himself involved in the fighting. He criticizes British imperialist actions whilst at the same time enjoying its privileges. Walter Eastman, senior clerk and writer and editor for the ‘Lin Tin Bulletin’. He also comments negatively on British colonialism. Eastman keeps clear of being directly involved in the fighting. Harry O’Rourke is an old artist who has a jaded view of imperialism. Father Joaquin Ribeiro provides support to Gideon for Gideon’s actions. The novel does not explore in detail the Chinese perspective. None of the main characters are Chinese nationals.
Overall, a thought provoking read, that is a little too descriptive for the majority of the novel!
This book was shortlisted for the 1982 Booker Prize.
Based on historical events and real people, an excellent read from a talented writer. Mo mixes narrative with excerpts from local journals. He has clearly studied Victorian newspapers as the excerpts are all over- long, wordy and opinionated. One of the two journals is established, supports ‘The Company’, Britain and all they do including the mass selling of opium in China, while denigrating ‘Johnny Chinaman’ and all his efforts; the other is set up by a young American who detests the opium trade. There are many beautiful examples of how the same events appear totally different from their two different perspectives (just like journalism today). The book is about the opium wars and Britain’s acquisition of Hong Kong by military conquest. There is excellent description of action, society, Victorian prejudice; and some wonderful characters, including Harry O’Rourke,the old buffer of an artist, and Gideon Chase,the young American who matures as the story progresses. Both are based on historical characters. There is also a detailed study of the differences between painted art and the developing practice of photography. I had read Redundancy of Courage some years ago; and shall read more of this author.
As a foreigner living in Hong Kong, I was excited to read a book that takes you to the days the Brits have set foot on Hong Kong island for the first time. Alas, that happened about 10 pages before the book ended. Somehow I got very little new information or perspectives. That said, half way through the book the details of the military actions started to appear. I soon started skipping these, as I, the girl that I am, found it unbearable to be reading about ships' maneuvering, guns reloading, soldiers in formation.
The book is written as consisting of fragments of correspondence and newspaper articles intercepting the prose. This gives Possessions a nice factual feel, but makes a stumbly read. The reading is complicated further by the language. The language of the 19th century is adopted, which is great fun ones you get into it. IF you get into it.
The plot - incoherent. A love story, which falls off the pages as unexpectedly as it appears. Most of the plot has to be deduced, pieced together from the flying around exerts. Very satisfying last paragraphs though and I'm a sucker for an elegant ending.
I spent the last three weeks trying to get into An Insular Possession, Timothy Mo's novel about the 1839-1842 Opium war, a conflict between Britain and China which originated from diplomatic tensions caused by the trade of opium in Canton and Macau. Yet, despite all my efforts, I could not get into the book, and I dropped off after just three hundred pages, not even halfway through… Historical fiction is one of my favorite literary genres, and I was initially more than eager to immerse myself into this story of two Americans working for one of the trading houses who participated in the opium business. The first chapter looked promising, with its beautiful and picturesque description of the Pearl river as a symbolic highway of history, life and commerce. Yet, after a few pages, I felt annoyed by the absence of a plot. I kept on turning the pages, but what I was reading looked more like a loose collection of events rather than a constructed narrative with a sense of progression. I was also annoyed by interruptions from the long, stern, tangled and pompous articles from The Canton Monitor, a pro-British newspaper which the author uses as a means to convey a sense of the bias and tension between the British and Chinese communities. In the end, after I realized how much I disliked reading it, the book simply fell from my hands.
In a review of Timothy Mo's book in the New York Times, Robin W. Winks draws upon an essay from the newspaper founded by the two American characters of the novel to explain the differences between the Western and the Chinese novel: whereas a Western novel moves by virtue of its plot, ''a veritable engine which advances the tale along its rails to a firm destination, […] the native novel ... moves in a path which is altogether circular,'' being made up of separate episodes joined only by the loosest threads. Maybe I am just too much of a Western reader to fully appreciate Timothy Mo's writing.
I spent a long time reading this for various boring reasons, one of which was that I found it tough to get to grips with. The narrative shifts away into newspaper articles and correspondence frequently, and while they serve to further the historical context and inform the plot, I found them a bit jarring and hard going. Something about the time it took added to the experience though, and now I feel like it's left a more lasting impression for it. This is a historical novel that slips its characters in amongst real figures from the expatriate communities in Canton and Macao, and later Hong Kong, before and during the first opium war. I knew the bare bones of the conflict, one of the more insane-seeming results of the colonial century, but the novel encouraged reading the history alongside, so by the midway point I could spot the events and battles and major figures as they arose. It follows two American traders in Canton who become disillusioned with the business when their firm decides to take the plunge and start trading opium to catch up to its competitors, and leave to set up a newspaper, rival to a preexisting rag which trumpets the British Imperial line. The newspaper extracts account for most of the progression of time (the novel covers seven years) and set the scene for vignettes featuring the characters, fictional and non-fictional rather blurring together. One main character, Chase, learns Chinese in secret, which sets him up to become embedded with the colonial forces as a translator and become our eyes on the front of the war late in the novel. There's a large amount to take in: historical situation, the referential newspaper asides and their implications for the plot, subtle relationships between characters, and the vast implications for the future that we have now seen, the creation of a community for a hundred and fifty years squeezed between two empires, and later between the first and second worlds.
It took me a little while to get into this story but I am pleased I persevered I absolutely devoured this book it was short listed for the 1986 Booker Prize and rightly so. The first page describes how the river rolls past taking everything in its wake, children falling off fragile native crafts, drunken sailors falling from ships. The victims swept out to sea. This is where the commerce plays out but this river is dangerous and a nuisance. The reader gets transported by the author's descriptive narrative to so many places. Canton 1833. Walter and Gideon two young Americans become involved in the war on the opium trade through their attacks on a rival paper. This makes their lives very precarious.
No rating, as didn't finish. Managed about 250 pages.
I wanted to give this the benefit of the doubt, but concluded in the end that life's just a bit too short. I suppose alarm bells should have rung with one of the reviews on the back of this edition describing An Insular Possession as "leisurely". There's leisurely, and then there's lethargic. This felt very much like the latter, with the focus of the narrative too often not providing sufficient interest. Frustrating, when considering the historical period; it shouldn't have been difficult to craft a story, from the raw material, with a little more intrigue and dynamism.
In fairness, this may be one of those books which needs to catch you in the right mood. With that in mind, will maybe try again somewhere down the line.
Timothy Mo can really write; one can see it from the opening paragraphs, worthy of Dickens. But this leisurely historical novel is too sprawling and discursive to be recommended. I was at first seduced by Mo's language, a pastiche of 19th century literature; the book inundated one with letters, journals and articles from two rival newspapers.
The plot revolves around the Opium War and the founding of Hong Kong; events are seen almost entirely from the western perspective. The characters unfortunately aren't larger than life enough. Although Mo criticizes the hypocritical, jingoistic attitude of the Britons, I could have died for a few Chinese characters. I gave up after 400 pages of this 671-page work. Massive, a linguistic tour de force, but so frustrating and difficult to enjoy.
There is an epic extended battle sequence towards the end of this book, told exhausingly from the POV of one of the main characters, that is one the top grandiose set ppieces I can remeber reading.