‘Colombo is in the throes of an explosion. Its face changes continuously, its vices are legion, its future as yet obscure and its paths speak of sunlight as well as of shadow.…’Carl Muller begins his quasi-fictional portrait of this beautiful, war-torn city by describing the great battles fought over it by European colonizers…. In AD 1505, a Portuguese fleet blown off-course took shelter in Galle, overthrew the local kings, fortified Colombo and decided to stay. The Dutch came along, ousted the Portuguese, made Colombo their capital and ruled till the British arrived and sent them packing. Muller intersperses the tales of the past into descriptions of the battles that are being fought in Colombo today—political battles in which vested interests play a major role as well as battles fought on the individual level in the struggle to young women and children turning to prostitution to earn an extra buck, people begging in the streets to make ends meet, unemployed young men turning to crime in frustration, students demonstrating against atrocities, lovers pining for nightfall in order to push away loneliness if only for a few moments... Written in Muller’s lucid style, A Novel is a chronicle of a city’s trials and triumphs.
Carl Muller was born in 1935 in Kandy. As a young man he joined the Royal Ceylon Navy, then briefly served in the Ceylon Army and later joined the Colombo Port Commission. He moved into journalism and worked in the Middle East. He is a prolific writer having written poetry, fiction, a children’s book, short stories, historical fiction, a collection of essays and monographs. He has won many awards and prizes for his writing. He is best known for The Jam Fruit Tree (1993) which won the Gratiaen Prize for that year. He currently lives in Kandy. [source]
I picked up Colombo in a bookshop in Colombo, and was drawn to it, more than anything, by that small coincidence.
Despite his Western-sounding name, Carl Muller is Sri Lankan, of Burgher origin. He was born in Kandy, in the hill country, and seems to have been a bit of a reprobate in his youth, with multiple expulsions on his academic record. He also served in the Sri Lankan (then Ceylon) Armed Forces, and this broad exposure to a range of social experiences in Sri Lanka is what made me think his book would be an informative insight into a city that is a home to me.
And in many ways it is. Muller’s Colombo is a part-fictionalised account of the city’s history, and weaves in fictional narratives with real, historical facts, as well as references to historical academic works and figures. In that sense it is, on occasion, a useful source of interesting titbits; for example, I learned that the Sinhala word for lavatory, kakkussiya, comes from the Dutch word kak-huis.
Speaking of the Dutch, I also learned that the Dutch wrested control of Sri Lanka from the Portuguese at the behest of a Sinhala King, Raja Sinha II, who offered them control of the valuable spice trade in exchange for control of Portuguese-held forts and cities being returned to the Sri Lankans. The Dutch, however, reneged on their deal, and simply held on to the strongholds that they conquered, much to the rage of Raha Sinha II. There is a lot of useful history that Muller has extracted from various other sources, and he often dramatises historical battles which makes them slightly more engaging.
You also learn of the provenance of many of the city’s most famous and longstanding buildings, such as the Galadari Hotel, and Cargills supermarket; the former was established by two millionaire brothers from the UAE, and the latter was a British import, both of which still stand today. He also talks of other familiarities, such as Sri Lankan pronunciation of certain syllables: “Khakied policemen… point their rifles and shout ‘Holt’! to every approaching car, bus, lorry or van. Yes, ‘Holt’! because the language of Sinhala has no ‘or’ sound and no letter to produce such a sound.”
However, beyond the book’s usefulness in terms of facts that are easily regurgitated at a dinner party, it is fairly dire.
On a more technical note, the language is overwrought, superfluous, and can make you feel like you’re swimming through treacle. For example, the first paragraph of the book reads as follows: “The light stays in the sky for a long while. An electric patch of blue-yellow like a melt-down of the colours of Armenia. The sun had reddened, bloated, flattened along the line of the water like a flaming full-bodied ankh, and a tattered shaft of vermilion had danced over the long, restless sea. Then the blood-cowled ball of day had plunged below the rim of a morose sweepcircle of red-daubed black.” As you can see, it’s a bit much. All this just to describe sunset. And this is one example of many of fatigue-inducing passages that are littered about the book. Muller overdoes his use of adjectives, and often goes so far out of his way to portray images in an unexpected way that he ends up with adjectives so far removed that you’ve forgotten what you were reading about in the first place.
Linguistic shortcomings aside, the real issue with the book is its horrible (fictional) subject matter. Colombo as a city is portrayed as a den of vice, depravity and misery; none of the characters whose lives we briefly look into seem to either live happily or do good to those around them, and this is almost without exception. The one instance I found that bucked this trend was the story of the Sinhalese doctor who gave his own blood to a Tamil patient, despite the misgivings of his staff. Otherwise, the book is bursting at the seams with stories of horror and sadness. Of course, some of these stories are very close to the truth – that of the death squads like the Black Cats that operated during the time of the JVP, for example. But when I asked my parents and grandparents if their memory of Colombo was similar to the city Muller describes in such grotesque detail, they unanimously said that they never remembered it being that bad. I of course recognise that a certain level of social privilege might shape their experiences, but there is no way that they would have been totally disconnected from the rest of society, as one would have to be to not remember Colombo in the way Muller has rendered it.
There are stories of powerful businessmen who systematically abuse young schoolboys; parents living in slums who willingly sell their children to foreigners visiting as sexual tourists; prostitution galore, between women, men, children; stories of incest and domestic slavery; the list goes on. I actually didn’t finish the book because I couldn’t bring myself to read one more graphic story about torture, murder, child molestation, or rape. It’s not worth ploughing through all that horror for a few historical facts here and there, and this compounded with the superfluity of the language Muller uses mean that I would definitely not recommend this book to anyone.
'This is a city with the wraps off. It is not a nice picture, but then, it is not meant to be. Colombo nights are when the cosmetic peel of the day is split and removed when the sun sets, and there is the suppuration that seethes behind the lipstick and the Goya fragrance, the silk shirt and the neat uniform, the peaked caps and expensive saris, the gold braid and epaulettes and dinner jackets and smart coiffeurs.'
This extract pretty much captures the essence of the entire book. I remember picking it up from the school library when I was around 13, being aghast at what I read and too horrified to finish it. A little older now, it's still hard to shake off the feeling of acute discomfort while reading the book. Muller paints a sordid, bleak, messy picture of urban Colombo minus the glossy veneer. Muller deals with sexual predators, prostitutes, gun-runners, drug cartels, racism, ethnic violence, pogroms and the pitfalls of urbanization candidly through vignettes. Some of the anecdotes about political thuggery, racism, corruption and the entire idea of a nation-state hit close to home, in relation to events taking place in SL these days--clearly Colombo's old habits die hard.
If you read it, read it for the book's factual matter and historical anecdotes, not for any literary value. Muller's prose is hardly stylish, the doggerel which intersperse the prose is well, doggerel. Muller has this school boy like trait where he likes to deliberately shock people with his crudeness (you see this in books like Jam Fruit Tree) and it tends to drag towards the end.
There is no doubt that this book is poorly written and poorly edited, that there is no line or built-up in the book, that stories jump all over the place, do not get finished, some just a few paragraphs or a few pages, other 40 pages, and that the language is overly complicated and descriptive, that the historic references are mostly just copies of long stories from diaries etc. But well, that is Sri Lanka and a Sri Lankan author. This is how it is. It is not polished, not sequential, overdone in some places, too little in others. It is entirely fascinating and addictive, shocking and colourful, exciting and boring, painful and demoralising all at the same time. But is also rare for Sri Lankans to write (or speak) in this manner about their country, because almost all the storylines of the elite, the enablers, the politicians, the businessmen are based on hype, is intent on keeping the mythology alive that Sri Lanka is a paradise. Like most other countries in the world, it is not a paradise (at all). That's why if reviewers write 'I checked with people I know - is it really like that?' - they say it is not, while it is all true. That's why in my opinion this book deserves rating 4.
I read this in Colombo which was peak tourist reading. I love place novels BUT THIS ISNT REALLY ONE. It reads like mid 20th century gritty realism. There’s way too much sex and bodiliness without enough plot. For someone who already knows about Colombo, and is from there, it’s a way to learn the history of various parts of the city. But if you’re trying to learn about the city as a newcomer, it goes back and forth in space and time without real narrative or connection. The cause and effect aren’t really there. And I don’t know if people living in Colombo would recognize the character of their city. It reads like there’s unrelenting pain and horror and very little autonomy or beauty.
Found the description of the seedy underbelly of the city I was born in and grew up in and have lived in all my life, quite disturbing. Yet it is a superb historical narration of my city and would recommend it.
A good overview of colonial history of Colombo/Sri Lanka. Great descriptions of battles..... Interspersed in the history are short stories about people in Colombo....a very dark side of the city and life here. Well written and highly recommend, esp for those who are familiar with the city/country.
For some reason, this History Lesson, embedded with contemporary seedy tales of the city didn't work for me. It was like watching a program on History channel with sudden interruptions from a C Grade Porn channel.
This book captures Colombo well and is a must read for all those who live within the city. It is good at capturing Colombo and the corruption and squalor within it. Sadly much like Colombo it is a bit of an unpleasant experience to be put through.