Rudyard Kipling Archives - James E Hartley

Escaping The Pit of Despair

Sometimes a story just haunts you and won’t let go. This is not always surprising. If you really enjoyed a story, it makes sense that you will often remember it fondly. I know many people whose life seems to be one long pleasant reminiscence of Jane Austen novels.

But it isn’t these pleasant reminiscences I am discussing here.

There is another category of story which stays in the mind not because it aroused any particular strong emotion. The story lingers because it presented a puzzle, and you just can’t stop trying to solve the puzzle. Not like a “How does the farmer get the fox and the chicken and the bag of grain across the river?” type of puzzle. A puzzle about how to get out of a particularly messy situation.

The story that has haunted me: “The Strange Ride of Morrowbie Jukes” by Rudyard Kipling. It is a tale of a harrowing place from which there is seemingly no escape. The puzzle: How to escape.

Morrowbie Jukes is an Englishman in India who sets out into the desert and falls into a deep crater. On three sides, the walls are high and steep. When Jukes tries to climb the sand walls, they collapse and he slides back down. In the crater, there is a group of others who have been similarly trapped there. At one point, Jukes discovers that he is not the first Englishman to fall into this pit; the other died, probably murdered.

Now the sand walls are only three sides of the pit. The fourth side is a river. Cross the river and you can go on your merry way. Alas, the river is full of quicksand. But, there is a path across the river; you just have to know the path. Fortunately, this path is known. So, if you tread carefully, you can cross the river. Alas, if you try to cross the river, you find yourself being shot at by someone with a powerful rifle who is down the river a bit, out of sight from the people trapped in the crater.

Now, what do you do? You are trapped in a space with the ragtag and rather eerie group of people who eat crows and have dug narrow holes into the sand wall in which to sleep. So at least you can sleep in one of the holes that someone who died before you used if you are willing to crawl into a small dark space which may still contain a skeleton or two. You are faced with spending the rest of your life in this place unless you can figure some way out.

Morrowbie Jukes tries to find a way out. Over and over. Every new idea fails. Fortunately, in a bit of deus ex machina, his servant finds him without falling in and is able to thrown him a rope and drag him out of the pit of despair. So, Morrowbie lives happily ever after and now we know about this place. (The story is written as if it is true; it is curious that neither you nor I are spending even a second wondering if it is true.)

What haunts me is trying to think of how to get out of that pit. What is weird is that I know I will never actually end up there, but I have this nagging feeling that I really need to figure out how to get out of it.

How bad is this problem? The Long-Suffering Wife of Your Humble Narrator and I went camping out on Cape Cod recently. I had read the story a month earlier. But there I was wandering down the beaches of Cape Cod, which are gorgeous, and staring at the sand dunes wondering how one could climb them if they were steep and high. Indeed, I started wondering how steep a sand wall could get; what is the maximum angle at which the wall will hold? How high would it have to be in order to prevent enough momentum from carrying you to the top? Is there a way to climb that would make it less likely for the cliff to collapse on you? Is this just a matter of percentages, so that if you do it enough times, eventually you will succeed? If you don’t know if it is possible, but think it might be possible, how many times would you try before giving up? A thousand? Ten thousand? If you spent all day every day trying to climb the sand wall, how many attempts would that be?

Yep. I spent a good chunk of time at Cape Cod imaging how to escape from a nonexistent crater in the desert in India. I am a bit concerned that the next time I spend myself wandering by a river, I’ll spend the same amount of time trying to figure out how to cross it if someone is shooting at me while I am trying to navigate a specific path to avoid the quicksand.

I think this means “The Strange Ride of Morrowbie Jukes” is a rather captivating story. Sure, it could be spun as an allegory for British Rule in India, wondering how England will ever extract itself from its Empire. Sure, it can be spun as a gothic tale of horror meant to alarm readers about the scary things that lie outside your safe civilized realm. Sure it could be spun as a pure adventure story.

But, none of those things are the big takeaway I have. I just want to go read a whole book about the physics of sand dunes.

The Way or The Great Game?

At one level, Kim, by Rudyard Kipling, is a rollicking adventure story of an Irish orphan growing up on the streets of India during the British Raj.

At another level, it is a deep refection on choosing the purpose of your life. It is this second level that makes this book worth reading (and rereading).

One of those Big Questions which I have spent innumerable pleasurable hours talking about with students is: “What should I do with my life?” College is the first time most students have ever really been faced with that question. Through high school, the next step was always obvious for the college-bound student. Get good grades so you can get into college. But, suddenly, the next step isn’t so obvious.

My students often start the conversation imagining that what is puzzling them is which career they should choose. It turns out that everyone has advice for them on the “right” career path.

It is actually quite surprising how many people give advice to others on which career is the right one. For example, these days just about every student has been told by someone, usually multiple someones, that a major in Computer Science is the right choice. Now, knowing many of these students, I can safely say that such advice is beyond awful for most of them. A successful career programming computers requires a very particular (dare I say peculiar?) type of person. Most people would hate such a job.

But, the fact that everyone is perfectly willing to tell a 20 year old what would be a good career path is exactly why the student is so confused. Who is right? Which is the right career?

That is how the conversation starts. That conversation usually lasts under five minutes before I ask some variant of, “What do you want out of life? What is your goal?” And then begins the fascinating conversation.

This is exactly the central question in Kim. Our Hero, nicknamed “Little Friend of All the World,” is a social chameleon; he can blend in anywhere. His parents were Irish, but Kim has been so tanned by spending his days outdoors, he can easily pass as Indian. He is a very clever street urchin.

There are two threads to the plot. First, Kim meets a Tibetan monk, who is looking for the place where Buddha’s arrow landed to create the River in which one bathes to wash away all sin. The quest to find this river is The Way. It is the way to enlightenment, to spiritual fulfillment, to peace and happiness. Kim becomes a disciple of this charming and holy man and joins him on his journey in following The Way.

Meanwhile, Mahbub Ali, an Afghan horse-trader who works with the British secret service in spying on the enemies of the land, recruits Kim into The Great Game of espionage. Kim is a natural spy, blending in well with whomever he meets. Kim could become a great spy, indeed, without a doubt, the greatest spy of all. The Great Game is exciting and daring and requires all of Kim’s intelligence and charm and wiles.

And right there is the choice facing my students. Is the goal of life The Way of spiritual fulfillment or The Great Game of an exciting and lucrative career? Kim is exactly like my students:

“Sahibs get little pleasure of travel,” he reflected. “Hai mai! I go from one place to another as it might be a kick-ball. It is my Kismet. No man can escape his Kismet. But I am to pray to Bibi Miriam, and I am a Sahib”—he looked at his boots ruefully. “No; I am Kim. This is the great world, and I am only Kim. Who is Kim?” He considered his own identity, a thing he had never done before, till his head swam. He was one insignificant person in all this roaring whirl of India, going southward to he knew not what fate.

Who is Kim? The disciple of a Tibetan monk who will find joy at the discovery of the sacred river? The student of The Great Game who will blaze a career of such success that people will write books about him?

And, like all Great Books, Kim is really asking: Who are You?

It is no wonder that my students are so tortured with this question of what they want to do with their lives. It is a universal question.

Colleges don’t help students with this question, however. They are also deeply conflicted. The whole idea of an American liberal arts college is that The Way is the object of study. The liberal arts are distinguished from the practical arts, and the colleges and universities were created to help students delve into the mysteries of life and thereby discover their complete selves.

But, in a Faustian bargain, American liberal arts colleges have raised the price tag to $70,000 a year by promising training in The Great Game. They will help the student get that lucrative job.

So, we have a historical curriculum structure grounded in teaching The Way, yet the rhetoric of both the colleges and the instructors is the promise of teaching how to play The Great Game. No wonder college students are confused. If you study literature and history and philosophy and economics and science purely for the career benefits such study will bring, it does not take long to realize that you aren’t getting a lot of career benefits from most of your classes.

Break the pattern. Pick up Kim and read it because it is a fun book wrestling with a deep question and let it take you wherever it will.

Kipling the American Author

Is Rudyard Kipling an American?

Let’s start with the obvious fact about Kipling: he is out of fashion these days.

About the only thing most people know about him is the title of one of his poems. Yeah, you know which poem. Nobody actually even bothers to read the poem any more.

Everyone just knows: Kipling is bad, very bad.

I have spent years trying to convince people that Kipling is well worth reading. I have spent years trying to convince people that Kipling is not at all what they imagine him to be, that he has nuance and insight. Nobody believes me. For some strange reason, they just think I am being contrarian and iconoclastic. Go figure.

But, I am very happy to report that I can now recommend a marvelous new book to people who disbelieve me about Kipling.

If: The Untold Story of Kipling’s American Years, by Christopher Benfey.

If you think you don’t like Kipling, if you think he is just a racist imperialist jingoist, then you should really spend some time with this crisply written book. If you love Kipling, you should also read this book. I had a very high opinion of Kipling before I read this book, but I now realize he is even better than I thought.

This book, like all of Benfey’s books, is only superficially a biography. It is actually a tapestry woven together of innumerable people and events. Twain, Longfellow, Roosevelt, Emerson, William and Henry James, and Henry Adams all wander into the picture.

The book starts with an observation that surprises most people—Kipling lived in America for a number of years. He was English, but grew up in India, so it has always been hard to place him. Now, in the biggest surprise of the book, we can place him.

Kipling is best considered an American author. Before reading Benfey’s book, I had never even thought about this idea. But, after reading this book, it seems so obvious.

Consider:

1. Kipling’s poem “If” was originally published in a volume of Kipling’s tales, right after a story about George Washington. “If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,/ Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch” is just one of the many refrains that are suddenly obviously setting forth Washington as the role model in “If.”

2. Kim, Kipling’s greatest novel, was started when he lived in America. Kipling was fascinated with Mark Twain; on Kipling’s first trip to America, he made an arduous effort to track him down to meet him. Now, knowing those two things, compare Kim to Huckleberry Finn. They are essentially the same story. Kim and Huck are virtually the same character. The lama and Jim are the same character, both in need of the guidance of their respective young friends in their quest for liberation. The Mississippi River and the Grand Trunk Road are the same paths. Once you see it, it is uncanny.

3. Captains Courageous also written while Kipling was in America, is obviously an American story. See Moby Dick.

4. The Jungle Books were also written in America. This is the most curious surprise. Kipling’s original idea for the Jungle Books was to write a set of stories about local life near his home in Vermont. When thinking about it, he realized he could do better imagining the local color of the jungle of India, where he grew up.

Kipling's The Jungle Books: American Novel?

This got me wondering: Start with the idea that the Jungle Books are about the idea of a person living in a particular space. Now add in Mowgli and ask: stripped of the details of the location, who is Mowgli most like? Yep, Tom Sawyer or Huck Finn. Impish, resourceful, and recklessly brave. At home in the wild parts of the world, but chafes in civilization. Then add in the characters to interact with Mowgli and realize that none of them are authority figures; they guide by example, both good and ill. In other words, the Mowgli stories take place in India, but they are really American stories.

The Just-So Stories were also started in America; I haven’t thought about it yet, but I suspect on reflection they will also betray their American origins.

5. And then, to look at the obvious, that poem everyone knows, “The White Man’s Burden,” was written about America and the Philippines. Benfey notes this poem had its genesis at the same time as another famous Kipling poem, “Recessional.” He rightly pairs them to note that Kipling is vastly more ambiguous than people who only know the title of the one poem want to believe.

“Recessional” is published before “White Man’s Burden.” “Recessional” notes the collapsing of the British Empire, “Lo, all our pomp of yesterday,/ Is one with Nineveh and Tyre.” Since Biblical literacy is not as high as it was in 1897, it is worth noting that Nineveh and Tyre are cities condemned by God in the Old Testament.

But, as the fallen empire retreats, what will fill the void in those lands? Enter America: “Go bind your sons to exile/ To serve your captives need” and “The ports ye shall not enter,/ The roads ye shall not tread,/ Go make them with your living,/ And mark them with your dead!”

Combined, Kipling is arguing that America, not England, is the future. Kipling has the American optimism that America can succeed where other countries have failed. This is nothing other than American Exceptionalism.

(The obligatory note: Yes, Kipling does not have the views on race we all now share in the 21^st century. Yes, it would sure be nice if he had our 21^st century sensibilities back in the late 19^th century.)

But, the idea that America needs to take on the burden of helping others…what is still more American than that?

In other words, Benfey’s book shows that almost everything Kipling wrote was started in or deals with America.

Once I started thinking along these lines I realized that a good case can probably be made that my favorite Kipling work, The Barrack Room Ballads, is also shockingly American.

These poems were written before Kipling ever set foot in America, and yet the focus on the common soldier is incredibly egalitarian.

For example, “Gunga Din” ends with “you’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din!” Class structure doesn’t matter—the simple Gunga Din, giving his life to bring a drink of water to a wounded soldier, is the better man. The same sort of theme shows up in other poems in this collection.

The fact that Kipling has vastly more nuance than most people believe is beautifully illustrated in the surprising epilogue to Benfey’s book. Having finished showing how Kipling interacted with America, Benfey devotes the epilogue to showing how America interacted with Kipling during the Vietnam War. I cannot imagine a better way to show how nuanced Kipling is.

There are, Benfey notes, three phases to the way Kipling played a role in Vietnam. At the outset of the war, Kim was literally a field manual for CIA operatives in Vietnam. Then, as the war turned into a grind, The Barrack Room Ballads became the touchstone, describing the life of the common soldiers in the jungle. And as the war was slowly lost, there was Kipling again, in a poem much quoted at the time:

Now it is not good for the Christian’s health to hustle the Aryan brown,
For the Christian riles, and the Aryan smiles and he weareth the Christian down;
And the end of the fight is a tombstone white with the name of the late deceased,
And the epitaph drear: “A Fool lies here who tried to hustle the East.”

For years I have been recommending Kipling to anyone who is willing to give him a chance.

Now, I will recommend Benfey’s If because it is hard for me to imagine that anyone giving it a fair read will not immediately want to pick up and start reading the poems and stories of that Great American Author, Rudyard Kipling.