FICTION.
ABDICATION.* THERE is more than one way of treating the political novel. There is, for instance, Disraeli's way. There is also Mrs. Humphry Ward's way. But these two methods have at least this in common, that the politics are in varying degrees subordi- nated to the exigencies of the story, especially to the love interest. In the novel before us there is an element of romance, though it is the romance of life rather than of love, but it is completely overshadowed by the political idea, which is obviously the main source of inspiration. And that idea is the "to be or not to be," of the continuance of British domination in India. Under the all-pervading spell of this tremendous problem, Mr.' Candler's characters become types, voices—British and Indian, Christian, Hindoo and Moslem—raised in vehement and insistent demand for the recognition of divergent points of view. Abdication is a mirror, reflecting with a great measure of apparent sincerity and fairness the state of public opinion in India, Anglo-Indian as well as native, which has been induced by the recent series of policies (or blunders, as they may be judged) with
*Abdication. By Edmund Candler. London: Constable. Us. Od. net.)
their incidents of the Rowlett Act and Jallianwala Bagh. It is a vivid and a disturbing picture, the more disturbing that the author has no Utopian vision with which to dazzle er comfort his reader, but leaves him severely alone to point his own moral. In the person of Riley, the young editor of an Anglo-Indian paper of conservative tendencies, Mr. Candler elaborates the view-rioint of the disillusioned idealist who, while sympathizing intensely with national aspirations, is unable to reconcile his dreams with the harsh constraint of realities. Then there are the various British officials who frequent the Thompsonpur Club, representatives of all shades of Imperialism. There is Skene, the genial Principal of Gandeshwar College, with a foot in all camps. And there are, of course, typical Indians of all castes and callings, Brahmins, Bulbuls, editors of Indian Nationalist newspapers, and so forth ; even Mr. Gandhi has his hour. But the finest portrait-study in the book is un- doubtedly that of Banarsi Das, an ex-student of Gandeshwar College and a protégé of the genial Shone, whose pathetic and ineffectual career ends in virtual extinction at the hands of a Pathan assassin. This weak and impressionable youth, who leaves college to drift irresponsibly from billet to billet, is typical of the Indian who is gorged with a diet which he cannot assimi- late. The new wine has been put into the old bottle, with the foretold result. Banarsi Das had lost his Indian soul and found no other. He is the prototype of one unfortunate product of the imposition of Western civilization upon the caste-bound East. And Caste, of course, is the crux of the whole question. Without the abolition of Caste it is impossible to conceive of a homogeneous and self-governing India. This being so, it is rather to be regretted that although the whole book illustrates this fact better, it may be, than any direct statement, the only allusion to its potency is put into the mouth of a somewhat discredited Labour M.P.
Previous page
