My introduction to the fiction of Paul Theroux is The Mosquito Coast and readers in search of the Great American Novel would be hard pressed to find a more thrilling definition of the term. Not that there haven't been novels of high literary merit set in mundane locations, but the Great American Novel takes its characters on a great journey--physically, spiritually, often both--and says something definitive about the U.S.A. in the era in which it is set. Published in 1982, this novel achieves that, introducing an ingenious but self-destructive man whose obsessions drag his family off the map, where he's determined to keep gambling on his grandiose ideas until he has nothing left to lose.
The story is narrated by Charlie Fox, a fourteen-year-old who lives with his family outside of Hatfield, Massachusetts. Kept out of school with his younger siblings Jerry and twins April & Clover, Charlie spends his time with Father, Allie Fox, an inventor ("Nine patents," he liked to say, "Six pending.") who dropped out of Harvard to get what he considered a real education. Allie works for an asparagus farmer named Tiny Polski fixing things and inventing others, like a scale model box that generates ice from enriched ammonia and high-pressure hydrogen without any electricity or gas. Father dubs his invention Fat Boy.
Polski refers to Fat Boy as a "contraption" and seeing no application for it on his farm, is largely unimpressed. Father gives his working model to the migrant workers who live on the farm and who the inventor refers to with both admiration and derision as "the savages." What Allie Fox most likes to do other than take things apart is rant: free trade, education, pollution, crime, energy, nutrition, entertainment (the Foxes do not own a TV), etc. A trip to a hardware store in Northampton is enough to push him past the boiling point. He is far from optimistic about the direction the country is headed.
I'm the last man! That had been Father's frequent yell.
It was painful, back in my bed, in the dark unlocked house, not dreaming but thinking. I felt small and shrunken. Father, who believed there was going to be a war in America, had prepared me for his death. All winter, he had been saying, "It's coming--something terrible is going to happen here." He was restless and talkative. He said the signs were everywhere. In the high prices, the bad tempers, the gut worry. In the stupidity and greed of people, and in the hoggish fatness of them. Bloody crimes were being committed in cities, and criminals went unpunished. It was not going to be an ordinary war, he said, but rather a war in which no side was entirely innocent.
"Fat fools will be fighting skinny criminals," he said. "You'll hate one and be scared of the other. It'll be national brain damage. Who's left to trust?"
Without telling Charlie what's going on, Father and his compassionate but obedient wife Mother take the children to Springfield to purchase tents, canteens, cotton cloth, needles and thread, mosquito netting, fifty pounds of hybrid seeds. The field workers pay Father a visit, conferring over a map and giving him a machete as a gift. Leaving everything except for the camping equipment and most of Father's tools, they drive to Baltimore and board a cargo vessel. Charlie meets a family of missionaries, whose hip daughter Emily Spellgood takes a liking to him, and earns the confidence of Captain Smalls.
Charlie is embarrassed by his father’s humiliation of those he considers himself superior to. The boy's encounters with Emily remind him just how abnormal the Foxes are and he's glad they're headed where no one will see him: Mosquitia, the virgin jungle of Honduras. Just as Polski tried to warn Charlie about his dad ("Your father's the most obnoxious man I've ever met," Polski said. "He is the worst kind of pain in the neck--a know-it-all who's sometimes vight.") the captain advises Charlie that while the Indians live an easy life, for the Foxes, it will be like living in a zoo where the animals are free and he's the one in a cage.
Upon landing in La Ceiba, Charlie is enchanted by the stillness of the port, but seeing it in the harsh daylight, finds it hot and stinking and chaotic. Father, a fluent Spanish speaker, acquits himself wonderfully with strangers he wants to impress, such as a drunken German who for a sum of four hundred dollars, sells Allie his one-acre farm someplace up the Aguan River known as Jeronimo. Passage is booked on a launch piloted by Mr. Haddy, a mariner who like everyone else, buckles under the willpower of Charlie's father, letting him steer the boat all the way up the river to their new home.
Jeronimo reminded me of one time when we were in Massachusetts, and fishing. Father pointed to a small black stump and said, "That's the state line there." I looked at this rotten stump--the state line! Jeronimo was like that. We had to be told what it was. We would not have taken it for a town. It had a huge tree, a trunk-pillar propping up a blimp of leafy branches with tiny jays in it. It was a guanacaste, and under it was a half-acre of shade. The remnants of Weerwilly's shack and his failure were still there, looking sad and accidental. But these leftover ruins only made Jeronimo seem wilder this wet afternoon.
Along with Mr. Haddy, Father wins over a dozen Zambu Indians who live in the area, most of whom speak English, including a family squatting in Weerwilly's shack who Father asks to stay, putting them to work along with his family. His first invention is a paddle wheel on the river that moves water through pipes into a bathhouse, where the settlement can wash clothes, bathe and boil water. The natives remain dubious about the contraption, noting that water is readily available during the rainy season and can be fetched from the river with a bucket any time. Father moves ahead. Land is cleared, waterproof bamboo huts built and miracle seeds planted.
Work begins on a silo. Though Charlie recognizes what it is, Father keeps everyone else in suspense until a full scale version of Fat Boy delivers ice to the jungle. Everything Allie Fox has promised--food, water, shelter--is achieved and other than an unannounced visit from a missionary who Father chases away, no one bothers them. Mother is open to learning the Zambu ways for skinning and smoking meat or hanging peppers and the children build a hidden campsite with access to indigenous water and food, but Father becomes obsessed with spurring innovation and self-sufficiency among Indians of the region.
After failing to find an Indian settlement untouched by the white man along the river, Allie sets off with his gift of ice over the mountains, despite warnings from the Zambu that "They always troubles there. Contrabanders. Shouljers. Feefs. People from Nicaragua way." Taking Charlie and Jerry, they find an Indian settlement which appears to have three English speaking slaves. Father tells the captured men about Jeronimo and compels them to slip away. When the men show up, armed with rifles, Allie realizes that it was the Indians who were being held prisoner by the soldiers, who decide to stay in Jeronimo indefinitely. Allie finds this intrusion unacceptable.
The Mosquito Coast pushes its chips onto the table to tell an adventure story with ideas just as big as the trek the characters undertake. At the time of its publication, Allie Fox may have seemed like an aberration, that uncle whose rants about society are endured once a year at Thanksgiving. Thanks to social media, his type seem like they're everywhere today, white men disparaging everything from government to free trade to immigration to breakfast cereal to television. Rather than parroting talk radio, Fox is able to think for himself, and demonstrate that his solutions are right nine times out of ten. But when he's wrong, he's really, really wrong.
Theroux appeals to that pioneer in us who suspects something is rotten in America and fantasizes about getting out of here, to take on virgin nature with our ingenuity and live free. Fox's inventions--with names like Thunder Box or Atom-smasher--are the creation of a wily engineer yet are described with the language of a natural storyteller. I would have never thought there were forty different ways to beautifully and vividly describe a dirt poor country like Honduras, but Theroux does it, tickling our imaginations with his prose like National Geographic does with their color photographs as he describes the life of a jungle settler.
It was not an easy life these first weeks in Jeronimo. It was no coconut kingdom of free food and grass huts and sunny days, under the bam, under the boo. Wilderness was ugly and unusable, and where were the dangerous animals? There was something stubborn about jungle trees, the way they crowded each other and gave us no shade. I saw cruelty in the hanging vines and selfishness in their root systems. This was work, and more work, and a routine that took up every daylight hour. On the Unicorn and in La Ceiba, and even in Hatfield, we had done pretty much what we pleased. Father had left us alone and gone about his own business. Usually I had helped him, but sometimes not. Here, things were different.
One aspect of the novel that comes up short for me is that Allie Fox overpowers every other character in the story. He's a cue ball that strikes all the other balls on the table, moving them but only in relation to him. I anticipated Charlie asserting himself more and mounting a battle of wills against his father as his decision making becomes more questionable, but this expectation was entirely of my own design and unfair to criticize the author for. The Mosquito Coast may be best appreciated as a journal written by Charlie and documenting how, like America's action in Vietnam, Americans enter the jungle with too many resources, too many ideas and little by little, go insane.
Theroux's novel served as the source material for an overlooked movie released in 1986 starring Harrison Ford as Allie Fox, Helen Mirren as Mother and River Phoenix as Charlie Fox. Audiences were not sold on Ford playing something of a bad guy in a family tragedy and The Mosquito Coast was a commercial failure. Working with Peter Weir, the Australian filmmaker who'd directed Ford in Witness and has never made a bad movie, Ford is Allie Fox and gives a riveting performance completely against his virtuous type. The movie is definitely worth a look.