What I've been reading

The Catastrophist by Ronan Bennett. 1997, Simon & Schuster, 333 pages.

This novel is strange. It's not strange in a Joycean way, because it's very straightforward, but it's strange because it doesn't seem that Bennett knows what he wants to do with it. It is a story of a cynical novelist who travels to the Belgian Congo in 1959, just on the cusp of independence, to be with the woman he loves, a fiery, idealistic journalist. Anyone who knows the slightest bit about the transfer of power in the Congo from the Belgians to the Congolese knows that Patrice Lumumba, who was the first prime minister, was deposed in a coup ten weeks after taking power and a few months later killed (probably with the Americans' blessing). Lumumba has become a mythic figure in the history of anti-colonialism and African independence, and he haunts this book as well, although he's not in it that much.

Bennett gives us an interesting pair in James Gillespie and Inès Sabiani, the book's star-crossed lovers. James is older (by thirteen years) and much more jaded than Inès, who believes in completely biased journalism (she's a communist) while James tries to see all sides of a story. James finds his relationship threatened by the volatile situation in the Congo, which is bad and getting worse, but which offers Inès a chance to get involved in the way she loves and the way James hates. The book is really about how their affair disintegrates as James realizes that a simple love affair will never be as important to Inès as grand ideas on the world stage. She leaves him, but he can never stop loving her. That, of course, becomes a problem.

The difficulty with this book is that we know exactly where it's going, and while that's not always the point, as a thriller, it doesn't deliver, and as a love story, it's a bit lacking (for different reasons). The reviews compare it to, most commonly, a Graham Greene novel, but the crucial difference is that it's written with almost 40 years' hindsight, so while Greene's novels have a sense of not knowing exactly who's who and who's the bad guy, this novel can examine the legacy of the early independence movement and buy into the Lumumba fantasy more than a contemporary novel might (or might not, of course). We know how the Congo spiraled out of control fairly quickly (and this book was written in 1997, prior to the latest round of violence in the eastern part of the country), so Bennett can subtly indicate that the involvement of the United States (personified by Mark Stipe, a CIA agent who befriends Gillespie) was part of what caused the country to fall apart. It makes this slightly more a propaganda piece than a true thriller, because Bennett is guiding us toward an anti-Belgian, anti-American viewpoint based on the future history of the country, which a contemporary author might not do. (I'm not, I should stress, saying that Bennett believes this viewpoint or, if he does, that it's a bad viewpoint to have. It's apparently fairly clear that the CIA was, if not complicit, at least aware that Lumumba's enemies were going to slaughter him, so it's not as if writing with an anti-American tone is that offensive. I'm just pointing out that it's fairly obvious, and it's mostly because Bennett "knows how it all turns out.")

As a love story, it falls apart even more quickly, because the affair is falling apart at the beginning of the book, and Bennett never quite convinces us that James and Inès had the affair of the century, so its dissolution isn't as powerful (although Bennett's writing when describing the fractured affair is very good; the best in the book). Bennett doesn't quite earn the tragedy of James and Inès, because we don't really believe that James could be so beguiled in the first place, so why is he so addicted to Inès? It's crucial that we believe it, because it's the hinge on which Gillespie's final actions rotate. James becomes much more pathetic as the book continues, because despite Inès telling him early in their relationship that she loved him, it's hard to believe from her actions. So when she breaks his heart, it feels like he should have gotten over it. Come on, Gillespie!

In the end, his love clashes with his lack of belief in, well, anything. If you've ever seen Casablanca or The Third Man, you know that the cynic grows a conscience and helps the person who needs his help. What's interesting is that Bennett makes it clear that James does this (yes, he can't escape the conscience!) not for noble reasons, like Rick Blaine, but because of his love for Inès - he's convinced that she'll come back to him if he doesn't cave to the authorities. The problem with this goes back to the unconvincing way Bennett gives us the affair. James is conflicted because he's unsure if Inès will come back to him or not, but we as the reader are sure she won't, because she's never given any reasons that James is anything else but a momentary stop on her way between one revolution and the next. Therefore, his sacrifice is meaningless, and his loss of cynicism, even for a moment, rings false. It's frustrating.

Bennett writes very well, and he really does a fine job creating these characters - perhaps too well, because then he can't fit these two people together. The politics of the book, in fact, are quite well done, as we get a good sense of what it was like in the Congo in 1959-60. I'm fascinated by the independence movement in Africa, and while Bennett changes the time frame so that it's not a very good historical document, he does a good job showing us the effect the independence movement had on both the whites and the natives, as for many Europeans, they considered Africa their home and couldn't imagine the violence that accompanied many independence movements. Bennett does a good job with that, and when that takes center stage, the book is often gripping.

The Catastrophist is a difficult book to recommend, because while there's a lot of good writing and some good ideas in the book, the central relationship is poorly done and therefore affects much of the rest of it. It's an easy book to read and it's an interesting look at a volatile period of history, but it also falls short in a lot of places. But it also shows why Krys and I call some incidents "Lumumba moments!"

When I am killed in a grisly, horror-movie fashion, you'll know it's NOT an accident!

I am marked for death, apparently. Why, say you? Well, I have figured out that I am an ancillary character in a horror movie, in which my lovely wife is the star, or at least an important character. Therefore, I am expendable. I anticipate something gruesome happening to me any day now. Please do not accept the authorities' explanation that it was a "bizarre and totally accidental farm implement impalement." Because it won't be!

I'll explain. First, my sister-in-law. She recently bought a house in Locke, New York. It doesn't sound like an especially scary name, but it's a bit odd. She moved into a relatively rural house on Salt Road. Again, not terribly scary, but somewhat strange. Put them all together, though - Locke, Salt Road, rural house - and you have the makings of a fine horror movie. She and her husband moved in and discovered that the previous tenant was a woman who is a bit strange. They're not sure what is wrong with her, but they wonder if she's bipolar. There could be nothing wrong with her for all I know - this is all second-hand knowledge. But let's just assume she could suddenly go off the deep end, for the sake of argument. They also said they found lots of empty alcohol bottles when they moved in which hadn't been recycled yet. So there's that. The woman also claimed that zombies roamed the grounds, and she laid salt around the perimeter of the house to "ward off evil spirit." Fun! Plus, their neighbor is a beekeeper and makes his own honey and jams and such. There's nothing inherently sinister about beekeepers, but when we put it together with all the other stuff, it becomes slightly creepy. When Krys told me all this, I said that her sister was starring in a horror movie and that I hoped she didn't come to an awful end. I said we would be the ones who went to New York to pick up the pieces after the horrible events that ended her life, and we'd either be the people who get killed right as the screen goes black at the end of the movie (which is a standard horror cliché) or we'd be in the sequel, in which case I'm dead meat.

Then there's Krys's best friend, who was out here for a conference a few weeks ago. She was telling Krys about her haunted house. They have a dog, Milo. They got Milo at a shelter, and they wanted some information about him. Meanwhile, Milo made himself at home. They would put him in a cage in the basement when they went to work, because they didn't want him roaming around the house. She told Krys that when she came home, Milo would be sitting on the sofa in the living room, just hanging out. They decided to tie the cage gate closed and tie it to the base of the cage, which was attached to the floor. She came home and Milo was on the sofa, hanging out. She went into the basement and discovered that the gate was still tied as they had tied it in the morning. Meanwhile, a "psychic" who had visited their house when they bought it asked to perform some sort of exorcism because there were evil spirits in the house. Krys's friend declined, not wanting to stir anything up. And the shelter can't find any record of Milo. Plus, there's a paw print in the cement in the basement that looks about Milo's size. Of course, the cement was poured decades ago. Krys said her friend is expecting to find a photograph of the house from 1900 with Milo in it, not unlike Jack Nicholson in The Shining. Once again, we'll be ancillary characters in the movie. We'll visit the house at some point while we're visiting Pennsylvania, and because I'm not important (Krys is the best friend, so she might survive), I will be killed in gruesome fashion.

Finally, Krys came home the other day and said that some of the people she works with have visited a psychic and she expressed interest in going to see the woman. I told her she shouldn't, because it would be a Lumumba moment. She won't learn anything good, and she might unleash evil forces. Guess who they would come after first? Yeah, that's right.

I have often said I wouldn't be a good horror movie person because I simply don't care about strange noises in the attic. Krys would investigate; I wouldn't. My best friend Ken recited "Candyman" while looking in the mirror after seeing that movie. He would be a character in a horror movie, I'll tell you that much! Me? Not so much. However, I'm thinking that even if I wouldn't investigate the noise in the basement, the fact that I'm close to several people who would means that I will be brutally killed while they escape. That sucks.

So I'm warning you, good readers - if you happen across a news article in which my skinned corpse is found hanging from a flagpole with a spade up my rectum and the cops call it a "suicide," don't believe it! Investigate and avenge!!!!!