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The Portrayal of Women as An Indicator of Imperialistic Ideology

The Portrayal of Women as An Indicator of Imperialistic Ideology

in Graham Greene's The Quiet American

by

Matilde My Kristensen

The Quiet American by Graham Greene is a novel set in the Indochina of the early fifties, during the period of the French war in Vietnam. The novel is widely considered to be autobiographical, as it is based on Greene's experience as a news correspondent in Vietnam during the war. The themes of colonization, imperialism and orientalism inevitably pervade the novel, as we are given a first-hand account of life as a foreigner in a strange country, as a Westerner in a Far-East world, and as a colonizer-by-proxy on a colonized territory. Though Fowler, the protagonist of the novel, is supposed to be ideologically neutral and objective in his perspective, it clearly transpires that his mind is just like that of a colonizer's, manifested in his egocentrism, his superiority complex relative to the locals, and perhaps most notably, in his treatment of and attitude towards women. In fact, several perceivably powerful men characterized in the novel have rather questionable views on the females in their entourage and in general. This, in my opinion, directly mirrors the way in which the allegedly universally inferior native populations were treated during the colonial era, up until the end of the wars of independence, and still are, to a certain extent, today. The treatment of women in Graham Greene's The Quiet American, is thus indicative of, and serves as a metaphor for the overarching imperialistic mindset of the main characters in the novel. 

In the first five chapters, it quickly becomes evident that Phuong, the Vietnamese fiancée of the American Pyle and the ex-lover of the English Fowler, has no control over her own love life and future.

Until she meets Pyle, she is with Fowler, who sees her as nothing more than something to take pleasure in – there is no alternative for her, as marrying a European man was held in high esteem in the context of imperialism. One evening, while still in a relationship with Fowler, Phuong meets Pyle, who falls in love with her. At their first meeting, Phuong's sister Hei interrogates Pyle on his life and his person, and proceeds to advertise her sister, almost as if she were an object up for auction, by telling Pyle that “She is delicate. She needs care. She deserves care. She is very, very loyal”. It already here becomes clear that Phuong has little control over her own love life. After the encounter, it becomes clear that Pyle has an undeniable advantage over Fowler, as he is rich, handsome, and most importantly, he is young. Phuong and Pyle form a couple, until, that is, Phuong is informed that Pyle has been found dead. Instead of crying and feeling the grief of losing a loved one, however, Phuong remains expressionless: “There was no scene, no tears, just thought – the long private thought of somebody who has to alter a whole course of life.” Phuong's reaction and Fowler's description of it suggests that they both know that there was no emotional bond between Phuong and Pyle; that Pyle was merely a tool for Phuong, whose only fate, as the “most beautiful girl in Saigon”, was to marry a wealthy European man – yet another example of Phuong's powerlessness when it comes to her love life, and her life in general. 

This powerlessness experienced by Phuong, manifested in her sister's attempt to marry her off and in the fact that her engagement to Pyle was just a formality, and not a result of love, mirrors the powerlessness of the colonized world. Just like Phuong believes that she needs the companionship of a European or Western man, so too did entire nations, to some extent, believe that they needed the colonizers. It can be argued, however, that Phuong doesn't truly believe she needs a wealthy white man, and that the colonized nations didn't believe either that they needed an imperial presence to function: if this is the case, given that Phuong does not object to her situation and her role in the lives of Pyle and Fowler, an entire new layer of imperial stereotypification is uncovered. If Phuong really is unsatisfied with her treatment, yet says nothing, the book effectively manages to perpetuate the stereotype that Asian women are docile and subservient. 

Indeed, the women in The Quiet American are portrayed rather like docile, subservient and exotic maids. This portrayal parallels the way in which entire colonized nations were made exotic by the imperial powers during the colonial era, reducing them to being referred to as the “other”. The way in which Greene renders the women in the novel, Phuong in particular, an “other”, is in part by objectifying them through the character of Fowler. In the very first chapter, Fowler describes Phuong as “the hiss of steam, the clink of a cup, she was a certain hour of the night and the promise of rest” and “indigenous like a herb”. The last description especially, echoes the portrayal of the native colonized peoples and lands: indigenous. The colonized were made to feel like inferior “others” who needed to be civilized and educated by the Europeans, and were even referred to as “the White man's burden”. Also in chapter one, Fowler's interior monologue has him thinking, “She must have loved him in her own way”, in which it becomes obvious that Fowler sees Phuong as different, as not possibly being able to love like he does, or like a European might – to him, her love is different, her feelings are not as worthy as those of Westerners. He is thereby making her an “other”, revealing his imperialistic attitude.

While there is an important element of objectification in the way that the women in the novel are treated, the fact that the women are portrayed in such a way that they appear to be fragile, defenseless and vulnerable can also be interpreted to being a feminization of the women. A practically universal social norm states that while the males of society are supposed to be imposing and physically strong, women are supposed to be gentle and rather innocent. This excessive feminization of the female characters in The Quiet American is a metaphor for the feminization of Vietnam itself. In the same way that women are fragile and inferior to men, so is Vietnam inferior to the English, the Americans and the French, and so is the colonized world inferior to the imperial empire. 

There is a last, obvious parallel between the treatment of women and the treatment of the colonized nations: the exploitation they underwent, and undergo. In the first chapter of The Quiet American, Fowler tells us, “I shut my eyes and she was again the same as she used to be: she was the hiss of steam, the clink of a cup, she was a certain hour of the night and the promise of rest.” In this passage, Fowler does not once describe Phuong's character of personality. He only describes her in terms of services she can provide, of things she can do for him. Moreover, in the same scene, Phuong prepares an opium pipe for Fowler. This image is doubly significant, since not only do we see Phuong servicing the Englishman by heating the opium and preparing his pipe, but it makes an allusion to the poppy fields of Indochina, in which locals slaved days upon end to procure opium for their colonizers. Here, Phuong undoubtedly symbolizes her whole nation, and perhaps even the entire colonized world, by way of her exploitation by a European man.

When Fowler is finished smoking his pipe, he narrates to the reader his feelings about Phuong at that moment: first, he deliberates on whether or not she would want to have sexual intercourse with him, whereafter he asserts that after four pipes, “I would no longer want her”. “It would be agreeable to feel her thigh beside me in the bed”, yet “her presence of absence mattered very little”. This extract from Fowler's interior monologue perfectly showcases how Fowler uses Phuong as an object, and only for his own enjoyment and comfort – she is exploited.

Another part of the novel, the beginning of chapter three, presents the reader with a new form of exploitation: the prostitutes in the House of Five Hundred Girls. Prostitution is unquestionably the most widely practiced form of exploitation, even when it is remunerated. Fowler meets Pyle and Granger in the brothel, standing among the hundreds of Vietnamese girls willing to sell themselves to these European men in exchange for money. Once again, the exploitation by the white Europeans and Americans of the “indigenous” Vietnamese, is symbolic of the large-scale, widespread exploitation of colonized peoples by colonizers. Interestingly, Fowler notes that standing amongst the prostitutes, Granger “took this demonstration as a tribute to his manhood” – here, Fowler mocks Granger for feeling masculine and powerful next to the girls, yet has not yet seemed to realize that he himself is the epitome of a colonial exploiter. 

Indeed, the way in which the women in The Quiet American are treated and viewed, serves as a metaphor for the treatment of the colonized world by the European or Western colonizers. There is, firstly, Phuong's lack of control or agency in terms of her own love life and fate, which is suggestive of the impuissance of Indochina at the time. This lack of control is one that is imposed on Phuong by her sister, who seems to have an attitude of collaboration with the colonizers: she is pragmatic in her actions, seeking financial security for her sister and perhaps herself by taking advantage of the men's weakness for docile, loyal, beautiful women. Then, the element of exoticism is evident in the novel, and the glorification of Phuong as the perfect, quiet, servile East-Asian woman symbolizes how colonizers conceivably wish the colonized people behaved. But beyond a mere exotification of the Vietnamese woman, the stereotypes to which she falls victim ultimately make of her nothing more than an “other”, someone different, less intelligent, less cultured and less civilized than Fowler, who in this instance represents the colonial power. 

Last, there is, of course, the exploitation of Phuong and of the prostitutes in a Vietnamese brothel – they are straight-forward metaphors for the exploitation of the man-power, the women, the children, the resources and the land of the colonized nations. All of these points demonstrate the mentality of Fowler and of his white friends. The way in which the women in The Quiet American are treated, thoroughly mirrors the way in which Indochina and the colonized world was treated, and the exploitative behavior of Thomas Fowler is largely indicative of his hypocritical imperialistic mindset.

Engagement Versus Detachment

Task: Compare and contrast Alden Pyle and Thomas Fowler in Graham Greene's The Quiet American. 

Engagement Versus Detachment

by

Myriam Sbeiti

To be engaged or not to be, that is the question. In Graham Greene’s The Quiet American, these two opposites are battled through the two main characters, Pyle and Fowler. Pyle is representative of destructive engagement, through his innocence and idealism. Fowler, on the other hand, is detached, the objective journalist. However, as the plot unfolds, Fowler realizes he will have to take sides at some point or other. So what is Greene trying to tell us? Should we or should we not be engaged? Is it even possible to stay detached, in situations involving colonial forces, for example?

Pyle, the quiet American of the title, is an intriguing character, of whom we get conflicting views. On the one hand, the narrator, Fowler, admires him, his values, his innocence: “he was determined [...] to do good, not to an individual person but to a country, a continent, a world”. On the other, this very innocence seems to be what Fowler despises in him, what he finds dangerous even: “Innocence always calls mutely for protection”. In particular, Fowler dismisses Pyle’s naivety in his way of viewing the world, his black-and-white textbook understanding from York Harding’s pages, such as the idea of the “Third Force”. The very essence of the climax resides in the discovery of Pyle’s true nature, a CIA undercover agent. This engaged, soft-spoken, innocent, idealistic man is the source of deaths of innocents through bombings. The progressive disgust Fowler feels for Pyle seems to strongly disorient us from finding engagement resourceful. It leads inevitably to blind destruction.

Fowler, on the other hand, is against involvement. His motto resides in staying detached, whether it be for political matters or for relationships, and objective at all cost. In his narrative, his choice of word and placid tone give us a sense of an impartial, though slightly cynic, account. In his reporting, he shows to be a journalist true to the story, ready to fetch information where needed, ready to make the dangerous trip to Phat Diem in order to get a realistic account. In opposition to the idealistic Pyle, Fowler is quite down-to-earth, able to look at disaster and despair in the eye and understand the depth of it. By keeping his distances, Fowler believes it enables him to be true to himself, seeing as “True course is not to wager”. Yet, this detachment leads him to watch hopelessly as Pyle becomes Phuong’s new lover. 

In the end, Fowler ends up needing to pick sides. Whether it is Captain Trouin who tells him that “one day something will happen. You will have to take a side” or Mr. Heng that “one has to take sides. If one is to remain human”, both help Fowler come to the realization that even inaction is a form of action in itself, as it has consequences on those around him. In a discussion with Vigot, Fowler stands by the point that “both he who chooses heads and he who chooses tails are equally at fault” whilst Vigot points out that “you must wager. It is not optional. You are embarked”. In a sense, Fowler’s approach is noble in that he does not want to take sides too hastily and understands the complexity of the issues and the deep emotions involved that drive certain characters. But, inevitably, Fowler takes action seeing as he takes part in a murder plot against Pyle, taking sides politically by judging his actions destructive, and taking sides emotionally, as it enables him to win back Phuong.

Throughout the book, we see a genuine battle in the narrator, and even in the author, regarding the extent of involvement one should have. Both Pyle’s destructive and blind engagement and Fowler’s hurtful detachment have negative and fatal consequences. The author thus seems to suggest there is no right answer. It is quite impossible to stay detached seeing as inaction can have just as bad ramifications, and represents a form of action, as we saw with Fowler. Therefore, the best is to be consistent with one’s principles when taking sides whilst allowing oneself to waver when needed, as Vigot truly states. This is a common issue when taking sides with or against colonial forces, like in Vietnam, where reasons for intervention are so complex and involve so many mixed interests, that Pyle’s black-and-white confidence is often too superfluous to really encompass the situation, whilst Fowler’s inaction is often viewed as cowardice, to avoid responsibilities. So what do we do in that case? Greene seems to suggest that not wagering in our decisions isn’t necessarily being true to one’s beliefs. Changing our minds or admitting we are wrong is nothing to be ashamed of, even less when it involves important events that affect many people. 

Annabel Lee

Read by Anuscha Zeighami 

Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

                                                   Edgar Allan Poe

Anna’s Letter to Alexei Aleksandrovich

Task: Write a monologue for a literary character who did not get the chance to voice his/ her thoughts in the literary piece.



This essay was modeled on Tolstoy's Anna Karenina. For a short summary. click on 'Read More' at the end of the essay.

Anna’s Letter to Alexei Aleksandrovich

By

Anastasija Pop-Arsova

The light of love shined on my book called life; cleared the way to heaven’s gate, but then vanished in the dark. They say love is something worth the struggle and once you find it, it warms up your heart; takes you to the sea of eternal happiness and rest. But once this love really strikes your heart, you can see that it slays in ways you cannot even imagine. Once you find love, it will not leave you alone; you can try escaping from it, but in the end you will be drawn by the sound of its calling. Then you will blindly follow its call until you find yourself tied to a wheel.

I did find love, but I needed to give away love in order to have it. Alexei Aleksandrovich, I am not writing this letter to you to justify my acts and beg for forgiveness once again. I am writing this, hoping that you will understand and leave my son with a picture of the mother I am.

You did not let your son kiss his mother goodbye. I begged you for forgiveness once, looked you in the eyes and lied, just so I can see my dear Sergei. For once someone made me feel as strong as a lioness. He was my little cub and I was his protector, his mother. But what is a lioness if she cannot roar for her cub, what is a mother if she cannot tell a bedtime story? Alexei Aleksandrovich, I took away your pride, but you took away my life. I replaced you with true love and you pushed me into a pit from which I cannot get out. True love, I could not escape, but what you did was in your will and whiteout doubt, it filled the hole I made in your heart. You gave my son an image of a dead mother, so I decided to disappear and leave him with peace in his heart. Regardless of how much I wanted to see him, I left, so my son can live a happy life and his happiness matters to me more than mine.

You, Alexei Aleksandrovich, blamed me because I have fallen for a man that gives me real love while you were leaving me dine alone every second night; you blamed me for choosing a man who follows me in a train from Moscow to St Petersburg while you were cracking your fingers thinking of ways to please your Mother Russia, instead of your wife!

Alexei Vronski loved me like no one ever would. But every story comes to an end sooner or later; too bad mine ended too soon. The more I loved him, the less he loved me and slowly he stopped seeing the heaven beside him.

When we first met, he could not give me peace; he did not know any… now I am the one who cannot give him peace, so he left. Now he would probably get married to that woman, his mother convinced him to.

A boy passed by, he looks a lot like Alexei, I shall tell him when we see each other… but wait, no, no I wont. He is never coming back. He will not be there for me to tell him.

I am telling you my sad story Alexei Aleksandrovich, so I can at least feed your soul now when I have nothing left.

I shall be going now, the train is about to leave. The old man is even closer. I heard his hammer for the last time now… we both know what that means. Why not turn out the light, when there is nothing more to be seen?

Do not forget to kiss my Sergei goodnight.

(Puts the letter in the mailbox and slowly walks in front of the train with a slight smile on her face.)

-       Not a word, not a gesture of yours will I ever forget, or will I?

-       (gets run over by a train and dies)

Gregor, If Only You Had Spoken!

Task: Write a monologue for a literary character who did not get the chance to voice his/ her thoughts in the literary piece.

This essay was modeled on Kafka's Methamorphoses. For a short summary, click on the 'Read More' at the end of the essay.

Gregor, If Only You Had Spoken!

By

Myriam Sbeiti



  

‘Metamorphose’, by Franz Kafka, is the story of Gregor, who once wakes up to find himself slowly transforming into a cockroach. He does not take action immediately and by the time he wants to explain to his family what is happening, he cannot communicate anymore. This leads to his family gradually alienating him and despising him until he starves himself to escape his misery. Had he spoken with them from the start, his family might have been more understanding...

“Mother! Father! I cannot unlock the door. Something is happening to me, I am not sure what exactly, but I cannot move. What? The inspector is coming? Oh no, I cannot go to work; I am already having trouble getting out of bed! Why will you not come in? I know it is locked; I always lock the door before going to sleep. And if I could unlock it, I would. Do not be scared! I do not think I can contaminate you. Please come in; I need you right now; I am even having trouble speaking. Words are harder and harder to pronounce; soon you will not understand a word I say. At least agree to come in, even for a second. If you feel the sight of me is too repulsive to bear, then you shall hear no more of me. Is that a collision I hear? You are trying to open the door! Hurrah! You have not given up on me! Come, come to me! Family is all that matters you know. If I have you on my side, I need nothing else. You are in! Hello father, hello mother, hello sister. Come help me, quickly! I am stuck on my back, if I could just get myself upright again, maybe I could feel human again. Why do you all stand there? What is it? Have you seen a ghost? Is it the sight of me? You reel at the sight of me, do you not? Sister, do not cry. These tears are uncalled for! I am still the same. Mother! Father! I am still Gregor, your son. It is just same old me. Nothing has changed, do you not see? My appearance may have worsened, but what are appearances? What matters is what is in the heart, is it not? Are those not the same words you pronounced the other day, sister? Yet now you stare at my legs with such a horrified grimace, as if everything you value in me was gone, as if you only knew me from my physical appearance. Is that what you know of me then? Is that all Gregor represents to you? A human-looking son that brings home money once a month? Can you not see past my glistening black body? Well I am here now. Come closer, I will not bite. I may be ugly but I am not mean. Yes, that’s it. You take such hesitant steps, as if you fear me. Do you fear me, mother? You nod. But I see the love in your eyes. You understand, do you not? You feel that this odious, revolting creature waving its legs around is your son. After all, if you close your eyes and listen only to my words, can you not visualize me instead of the insect?    

Do it, I beg you. Just try; just close your eyes for a second. Listen to my voice. Do you hear this? It is not exactly as you remember it. I can feel my tongue becoming heavier and words are running into each other. Soon, I will not be able to pronounce a single word. But concentrate on what I say. I am Gregor, your son and your brother. Every morning I get up, have breakfast and take the train at 7:30 am. I have never been late once. Except today. But today is particular day. Today, I am not myself. Well, I am not quite myself. The odd turnout of events has already rid me of my physical identity; don’t take away my family one. You are all I have left to remind me of who I am. If you leave, I will truly become a cockroach. All that was Gregor about me will be gone. I need you now more than ever, to remind me of my true identity. Yes, that’s it. Come closer to me. Keep your eyes closed. Your touch... You do not understand, your touch is like a marvelous reminder of my previous life. And my skin is smooth, is it not? With your eyes closed, it is almost pleasant. Father, I can tell you are not convinced. But they will convince you... The women... They are... always... more sensitive... to this kind.... of situation... The words... I knew... this... would happen... Please... do not... leave me.