‘A good book leaves you wanting to reread
the book. A great book compels you to reread your own soul.’ So states this
book’s protagonist Dorrigo Evans. I
can conclude based on these criteria, that this book is a great one, and I have
absolutely no intention of rereading it.
This is because I don’t think I can withstand the horror depicted in its
pages once again which I suppose attests to the quality of the writing. In successfully recounting the lives of
the prisoners of war (concentrating on the Australians) who were enslaved to
work on the building of the Burma Railway during the Second World War, this
book succeeds in being necessarily repugnant.
Yet, the true greatness of the novel lies
in how while doing justice to the hell endured by the POWs, it conveys subtlety
through intricate weaving of the characters’ stories, thus highlighting the
infinite grey areas of morality and guilt. The middle section of the story is dominated by the
description of ‘life’ in the camp, the inner thoughts and feelings of each of
the characters is fascinating and heart-rending. Particularly poignant for me as a doctor too, was how the
protagonist Evans was struck practically helpless in exercising his profession
of healing by the ravages of malnutrition and tropical disease, with minimal
resources. His conflicted inner
turmoil of trying to protect and care for the sick while having to maintain the
strict quotas of men to work as demanded by the Japanese officers, while
keeping himself going, is portrayed skillfully.
Clearly these descriptions are harrowing to
read, but the cleverness of this novel is to go beyond the liberation of the
camp. It follows some of the
surviving characters in their return to life after the war as they attempt to
reconcile what they have been through with the realities of everyday life. Flanagan raises the issue of how although
they had physically survived the torture, whether psychologically and
spiritually they were actually already dead despite a semblance of life
continuing. Perhaps most thought
and emotion-provoking was following the Japanese officer and the Korean guard
as they negotiated the post-war period, reconciling their indoctrinated views
with how they had treated the POWs later in their lives, especially contrasting
with the official judicial route.
This is clearly incredibly emotive subject
matter and Flanagan is bold in the breadth of what he tries to cover within his
novel. However, I’m not sure
whether the more extensive focus on Dorrigo Evans’ life and numerous loves pre
and post war is entirely necessary.
I was left thinking that other characters could have been explored in
more depth instead of dwelling on Evans so much, and that the love story, which
was recounted in exhaustive detail, didn’t sit well, except for contrast and
memory purposes, with the majority of the book.
I have recently read various articles
exploring how reading can increase the empathy of a reader by allowing them
into situations or characters that they otherwise would not experience. This particular novel is an excellent
example of this power, as through writing from the point of view of various
Japanese characters, Flanagan helps to provide an insight into their
perspective. This forced me as a
reader to examine how I myself would have responded in this situation on either
side – hence the greatness of this book and its impact on my soul. I think that the way in which Flanagan
manages to achieve such balance and sensitivity in his narrative, while having
a personal connection to the story, (his father was one of the surviving POWs),
is testament to his own strength of character.
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