Platform by Michel Houellebecq

Author: Michael Court

Platform is Michel Houellebecq’s third novel, and arguably his most controversial. It describes a 40 year old civil servant named Michel Renault whose father is murdered. Michel goes on a package holiday to Thailand where he meets and later falls in love with Valerie (whom works for the company). After they return, Michel, Valerie and her boss Jean-Yves create the eponymous platform: sex tourism in the Third World. This ‘novel of ideas’ (Pedro Blas Gonzalez 2003) culminates dramatically, and in doing so, brings into question ideas as diverse as religion (particularly Islam), transnationalism and the ethics of global economics and politics.

The novel is explicitly transnational in its content. The three main characters are all French, yet through the course of the novel travel to South East Asia and Cuba with the intention of either being a tourist, assessing existing tourist resorts or planning and executing new ones. The denouement is transnational too: ‘a terrorist attack by puritanical Islamic fanatics on a resort in Thailand’ (Publishers Weekly 2003). The attack is upon a French owned resort, catering mostly to Western tourists by a group of three men that are later identified as Muslim. This is despite the fact that ‘this [Thailand] isn’t a Muslim country’ (Houellebecq 2001). This illustrates that the terrorist organisation in question is a transnational one. The events described are more broadly transnational too because the formerly apathetic Michel, after recovering in hospital, ‘start[s] to follow international news again’ (Houellebecq 2001). The conclusion of the novel points towards a concern with global religious and political issues, such as the influence of Islam, the nature of the West (in his previous novel, Houellebecq describes it as ‘the libidinal, hedonistic American option (Houellebecq cited in Barnes 2003)) and the human condition in general, all of which are inextricably connected. 

The transnational aspect of the novel is not entirely reserved for the world of fiction though. After the novel’s publication, Houellebecq was tried on the grounds of ‘inciting racial hatred (BBC 2002), with the case being brought by ‘largest mosques in Paris and Lyon, the National Federation of French Muslims (FNMN) and the World Islamic League’ (BBC 2002). Comparisons have been drawn to Salman Rushdie, whose ordeal was a transnational one too, having been condemned in Iran despite being a British citizen and not subject to Iranian blasphemy law. Houellebecq won the case on the grounds of free speech (France is a secular state and does not have blasphemy laws). However, the fact that he was brought to trial in the first place shows the impact literature can have upon divergent cultures and their attitudes towards free speech. It is literature like Platform that inspires debate, which brings into question the nature of transnationalism and the effect it has had and is having upon the world. 

Michel Houellebecq’s Platform is a daring, confrontational and ambitious novel, worthy of the praise that has been bestowed upon its author. In terms of transnationalism, it is provocative yet enlightening. In terms of art, it is just as divisive: Julian Barnes, in his review for The New Yorker points out various mistakes, such as the first person narration of Michel Renault passing judgement on a character he has yet to meet, and convenient characters who appear, criticise Islam, and then disappear from the novel once ‘their work is done’ (2003). Houellebecq has been compared to Ayn Rand as they are both novelists ‘for whom concept always precedes character’ (Publishers Weekly 2003). This reviewer does not admire the philosophy of Objectivism, or clumsy writing but is fascinated by Houellebecq’s nihilistic and disaffected fiction, and agrees with Julian Barnes when he writes: ‘the trajectory of Houellebecq’s world view will be worth following’ (2003).

Houellebecq’s first two novels Whatever and Atomised were both uncompromisingly bleak, yet Platform has a semblance of hope, that when dashed, has a cathartic quality. The novel is funny and thought provoking. I recommend this novel and Houellebecq’s fiction in general. 

Rating: 5/5

Sources:

Michel Houellebecq 2001. ‘Platform’. London: Vintage Books.

Pedro Blas Gonzalez 2003. ‘Vision of the Sensual World’. January Magazine. (click here)

Publishers Weekly 2003. ‘Platform’. Publishers Weekly. (click here)

Julian Barnes 2003. ‘Hate and Hedonism’. The New Yorker. (click here)

BBC 2002. ‘French author denies racial hatred’. BBC. (click here)

Sozaboy: A Novel In Rotten English by Ken Saro-Wiwa

Author: Jordan Rodgers

“Sozaboy” by Ken Saro-Wiwa is a novel about the Nigerian civil war and the life of the boy Mene as he explains his life and the reasons for why he chooses to go to war. Wiwa was an activist who lived through the civil war in Nigeria and worked through non-violent means to achieve his goals. Wiwa had been producer of the tv show “Basi&Company” and was involved in real estate and other business ventures successfully. He had been involved in Nigerian politics at least on two occasions, one as the Regional Commissioner of Education in the 1970’s but had to leave due to his support to the Oroni movement and later was asked by Ibrahim Babangida to transition Nigeria to democracy but Wiwa resigned. Wiwa was eventually executed in 1996 by the Nigerian government. The novel uses a form of English which mixes Nigerian pidgin English along with traditional English makes the novel unique as it allows the voice of the Nigerians to come through and understand how past colonialism affected the native Nigerians language.

Throughout the book Mene is manipulated by those he knows from his love interest and eventual wife Agnes who he wishes to impress by being rich and providing for her which she convinces him to do by becoming a soldier. This is the main incentive for Mene to do well as a soldier as he wishes to please her and impress her by becoming an impressive soldier. The novel goes on to tell the conditions Mene witnesses and how he is respected by his village at first for becoming “Sozaboy”. Mene’s naivety is shown throughout the novel such as when he talks of his first experience in battle where the food is bad and he has to spend time in a pit with no sleep. Instead of reflecting on the situation Mene simply believes that good things will happen because good always follows bad.

The use of Pidgin English in the novel is at first difficult but a glossary provided helps with any confusion and over time the context becomes clearer so through reading the novel this does not become a problem. The language used is an important theme in the novel as it shows how past colonization changed the culture of Nigeria. This is shown through Mene’s belief in God, Zaza’s stories of fighting “Hitla” and how reading and writing in English is equated with intelligence. Mene’s constant conflict is between right and wrong and who his enemy is. Towards the end it becomes apparent that Mene has no real loyalty to any side of the war and his only interest is going home. This drives home the point that he is a child and has had to endure a hardship for no noble or practical reason he was never force to join the army but only did so due to his immaturity.

Sozaboy is not just an account of the Nigerian civil war but also a comment on growing up and how those involved in war manipulate the young soldiers into fighting for reasons they do not understand and how the soldiers are deprived of basic necessities. The war however does not particularly change Mene as his needs are simple and other than him realizing that war is useless he does not grow as a character.

Sozaboy is an effective story about how Wiwa viewed the civil war as it does not seek to shock the reader with any particular scenes of violence or horror. Instead it focuses on how Nigeria’s culture has changed and formed since colonization from European nations and that the war did not affect the country in positive way and only caused further suffering to the Nigerian people.

How to Escape from a Leper Colony by Tiphane Yanique

Author: Alastair Oates

Tiphanie Yanique originates from the Virgin Islands on the border where the Caribbean Sea meets the Atlantic ocean. She moved to New York to become a lecturer, and is an assistant professor at Drew University. Her debut work, ‘How to escape from a leper colony’, is a collection of short stories which departs from the traditional clichéd view of the Caribbean culture. Transnationalism is a central theme throughout the stories. The title suggests that the islanders cannot free themselves from the racial politics of their nation. The painful religious judgement and failed cultural interconnectivity embodies the native people. Tiphane Yanique, however, manages to write without the burden of cultural oppression. She captures the voices of different characters from a multitude of nations, ranging from her native land to Nigeria and even America.

Religious symbols are rife amongst the stories in Yanique’s collection. Religion is presented through figures within the church rather than the strong faith of certain characters. The author shows religion to be a divisive force; it segregates populations rather than bringing them together. Characters who represent the church are set up to be ridiculed and mocked. The nuns in How to escape from a leper colony, are reluctant helpers. They are portrayed as self-serving individuals who don’t take their duties very seriously. Yanique critcizes the nuns; she lacks sympathy for church workers on the island. She looks to challenge the authority and power religion has over minority groups.

Tiphanie Yanique depicts the struggles of island life. Her characters seem to be in constant discomfort in their island surroundings. They are all clearly defined by their race and gender, and yet they all appear to be striving towards a new identity; they are all out of place and want to escape from interior isolation. Tiphanie Yanique herself came from the Virgin Islands but she has left the relative isolation of that community. She is now finding an independent literary voice amongst the other pan-Caribbean authors who write about their homeland’s oral history and modern life. She is writing for a world audience, with a purpose to remove the stigma surrounding island identity.

Fantastical folk stories are common in Caribbean literature and Yanique doesn’t abandon mythical elements in her collection of stories. She imagines a bridge which stretches over the Caribbean. Different characters encounter the bridge and muse about its connection to the land. Three stories come together and each concludes when the bridge crumbles into the water. The bridge is a metaphor - it represents the schisms between individuals on the island. They are close in proximity but are divided by certain aspects of their appearance and belief system.

Tiphanie Yanique’s collection of short stories is a brilliant debut. Her reflections on the complexity of island relationships are perfect for critical analysis. She even recognizes the potential for the stories to be used in academic study. Two of her characters, Jasmine and Thomas, both discuss their studies about race and ethnicity. The blend of styles shows Yanique’s ability to write. She is able to draw in the reader with her descriptions, creating an emotional connection within a short period of time.

Personal Thoughts:

Yanique's novella is great example of Caribbean literature. It offers sufficient scope for critical analysis but also doesn't dwell on the political issues. The characters are the central focus of the stories; Yanique cleverly introduces the social and economic ideas without creating a preaching tone. The stand out story in the novella is  ' The Bridge Stories' the metaphor of the bridge is a powerful image which illustrates a lot of the divisions on the island. Yanique’s debut work shows her literary potential; ‘How to escape a leper colony’  heralds a new unique voice.

Rating:  3/5

Music as a Transnational Creative Practice

 Author: Michaela Howett

Music, as a creative practice, is as important as any in our considerations of transnationalism in the globalized world in which we live today. In The Local and Global in North African Popular Music, Tony Langlois discusses the variations of Rai music- which was originally produced in North Africa- produced as the genre has spread to other regions of the world, resulting in a more modernised version of a traditional creative practice and the political significance of these variations, particularly in Oran and Oujda. Langlois concludes The Local and the Global with the statement: “Whatever attractions ‘the modern’ might have had, ‘tradition’ is safer.” While this is very true in the face of the political turmoil which has gripped the regions from which Rai music was produced, one could argue that a more modern variation of Rai is one which is more natural in the face of the transnational world in which we live.  

The very name of the article Local to Global represents the way in which Rai music, like other creative practices, has been subject to the changing demands of today’s world. What started as a very traditional practice has now been altered to suit a global audience. Rai was first a local music, often performed at weddings and the like- low key events “where the singers could be outspoken and provocative”. Because of this, its wide-spread distribution is subject to political controversy. However, this freedom to voice local concerns, alongside the continued references to local places in traditional Rai makes it very intimately Orainaise.

This contrasts with the global variation of Rai music. Langlois points out that specific local references are unlikely “to stir the imagination of a Franco-Maghrebi youth in a housing estate in Lyon.” And it is for this reason that global Rai tends to have more generic lyrics. This is widely criticised as a loss of meaning by the Orainaise audience and is seen as a substantial departure from traditional Rai. When coupled with the more modern, synthesised musical sounds, it could be argued that the very essence of Rai music is lost when we consider the global variation. However, it might be more reasonable to argue that this is a very appropriate departure from traditional Rai. The Maghrebi who have emigrated have simultaneously managed to retain a traditional art form as well as impart their own experience of Maghrebi culture onto it. The modernised Rai can be seen to reflect a culture which has been influenced by a more global culture by expanding outwith the country of origin.

While it is appropriate for a much more traditional version of Rai to continue to exist in Oran itself, a modernised version of the music seems to more fit the demands of the global audience. However, Western and modern culture is seen as immoral in the eyes of many traditional Orainaise and there is furthermore the danger that the traditional Rai music, as it was intended, will be lost- constituting a loss of identity. But even on the local scene, Rai music was forced to change and de-politicise in order to escape the violence of the Islamic political groups, resulting in the creation of a music that, while more traditional than the global version of Rai, was viewed as a bland imitation. This idea of the potential music has to be a political art form and means of communication is expressed in Richard L. Derderian’s North Africans in Contemporary France: Becoming Visible. He mentions how, in postcolonial France, music, among other creative practices, “helped inform the French about the condition of foreign labourers” and “acted as an extension of a nascent immigrant workers’ movement”. It is therefore evident that even locally, Rai was losing some of its most traditionally important identity. In light of this, allowing a different form of Rai to evolve to suit a global audience seems relatively harmless, more fitting in today’s world and much less constrained than what local Rai eventually became. The real danger seems to lie in opting for a bland variation of the music, produced directly for the consumer, which conforms to the political situation. Although this is nonetheless “safer” than sticking to exactly what Rai once was, the formation of a global version of Rai is far more relevant in the modern world than a version which disregards what Rai originally was- outspoken and provocative.

Contrasting with the way in which Rai music has be de-politicized in order to conform in more dangerous times, Derderian describes how some North African’s living in France perform music in areas chosen to have the greatest possible political impact: “the kinds of urban spaces that were directly implicated in the problems of police injustice, racial violence, and substandard housing”. Overall, I think this proves that music has a real significance in our transnational world- both as a fundamental part of cultural identity and as a means of communicating political statements.

The Dew Breaker by Edwidge Danticat

Author: Hannah Martin

  

Edwidge Danticat’s novel The Dew Breaker is a collection of stories connected through seemingly unrelated yet recurring characters. The novel explores such literary themes as voicelessness, the violence inherent in the language, and the recurring image of blood. The novel also explores much broader themes such as the (in)communicability of experience, creative practices and patterns of diaspora across the globe. 

The first story invites the reader into the lives of a daughter who has erected a sculpture of her father out of wood. The crack down the back of the mahogany she has used may make the work look amateurish, but it actually reflects the imperfections of her father. Perhaps Ka has aestheticized and generalised her father’s faults in attempting to represent him, yet as the TV star also identifies with the statue, Ka’s father has escaped her representation. In being sceptical regarding whether artistic representations achieve true representation, Ka aims for mimesis through a creative practice. In this way, the novel refuses binaries; Ka’s father has been represented and his own story juxtaposed against the stories of those he tortured. This focus on the individual privileges the singularity of experience. It also emphasises that the series of protagonists are no more or less important than the one before, which, in turn, suggests tenuous continuity but not homogeneity. What the text involves occupies an inbetween space, and the text itself occupies an ambivalent space: in this sense, it is not a novel, but a collection of short stories.

The married couple who remain nameless and speak different languages from each other personify the loss of connection apparent between the subsequent protagonists in each story. The alienation one can feel, even towards a cherished companion, is just one of the themes recurrent throughout the novel.
 

The reader also gets a glimpse into the life of a nurse who treats people whose voice box has been removed, and helps them recover from the initial shock. In her home life, we see that her parents live in Haiti, and instead of sending letters, she sends money. The theme of voicelessness is particularly apparent in this story, as is the issue of identity. Nadine’s “distorted reflection of herself” (p 57) in the elevator doors could be how she perceives herself, or positing the question to herself that if someone has no identity, are  they soon forgotten?

The theme of voicelessness is resurrected in a story where the only connection a nephew has with his aunt is that they both talk in their sleep. The refusal of closure is represented in this story through the aunt’s death before she has answered her nephew’s questions. Her experiences cannot be compensated and there is a significant lack of redemption for the nephew.

An aspect that connects all the stories together is the fact that things are destroyed. The sculpture, the letters, the aborted baby, memories – intangible things are often associated with unreliability yet even physical, material things that document significant events can be destroyed, leaving them to history which itself will eventually be forgotten. The very fragility of human connections and the memories of lives lost assimilate torture yet the enduring effects of such are particularly prominent on the characters, and the varying degrees of which on different characters are interesting to note. 

The emotional cost of transnational migration is alienation and loneliness. The novel could be argued to act as a counter-narrative to Haitian diaspora; the emphasis placed on complex human losses and the almost mimetic reproduction of what is lost in movement is represented through the lives of the protagonists, each in their own stories. What is left is not a neat, clear, resolved history, but a heavy sense of marginalisation and overshadowing, caused, in most part, by natural disasters. The narrative reproduces that refusal of recuperation, and, in a sense, makes the reader feel better, yet dissatisfied simultaneously. The fact that it has been written in English for a non-Haitian audience suggests another attempt at trying to bridge the gulf between Haitians and non-Haitians. 
The Dew Breaker is not a collection of stories that one can pick up, read and think ‘That was a nice book’. The history and the politics behind Haiti are embedded within the text, which gives it a profound sense of gravitas. Danticat has produced a truly remarkable book that scrupulously depicts Haitian uprootedness.

Persepolis - Film Adaptation

 Author: James Higgin

Persepolis (2008 UK release date) is the autobiographical film based on Marjane Satrapi’s graphic novel of the same name, directed by Vincent Paronnaud and Marjane Satrapi. Starring big names such as Iggy Pop and Sean Penn (in the English version), alongside those who many would consider as lesser known, more regionally famous, actors, such as Catherine Deneuve and Amethyste Frezigna, the film presents a clash between western (Hollywood) and more regional (French/Iranian) cultures both within its plot and its form. It was great to see that Satrapi had such an integral role (as director and writer) in taking her novel to the big screen as this made sure that, despite differing in some ways, the film remained faithful to the thematic issues of the original art form, issues such as; oppression, feminism, identity and family.

Very much a bildungsroman, following Marjane’s life, from childhood through her adolescent years the films plot starts in Iran before moving to Vienna. We see how Marjane represents the youthful optimism of the Iranian revolution and how that optimism slowly fades. Her outspoken nature forces her parents to send her to a French Lycee in Vienna, Austria where the young girl meets her first love Markus and really begins to understand what it means, on an international stage, to be an Iranian.

The film can be seen as a useful aide to studying Iranian history, particularly around the time of the last Shah. However, the history is given from a very one sided viewpoint and I couldn’t stop myself thinking that it was a viewpoint that would be very pleasing to a Western audience, something Craig Quirie eludes to in his critical review of the novel (available here), “holistically the novel gives the reader a very broad view of the events between the late 1970’s and 1990’s from a focalised point of view, concerning only a few individuals”. It is important to remember throughout the film that this is a story of one individual’s struggle against oppression and not a historical documentary.

Visually, the film is no different to the novel, with the animation mirroring Satrapi’s simple yet effective illustration. However, some elements are, understandably, different. For example, the structure of the novel and film are slightly different, with the novel having a different start point and perhaps a more linear structure. Marjane’s relationship with Markus is also expanded upon in much more detail than in the film, which makes it all the more meaningful.

Normally I am utterly opposed to reading a book after seeing a film and insist on doing it the other way round, yet bizarrely I actually saw the film before reading the novel. Within this lies the biggest praise I can give this film, it actually made me want to pick up the book and learn about Marjane’s story in even more depth. Tim Robey of the Daily Telegraph wrote that “You could ask for a more hardcore adaptation of her bitterly funny, sad and angry book, I think, but not for a more enjoyable one”, yet I think this misses the point. This is not a standalone piece and works in combination with the graphic novel. All in all I found the film to be a fantastic recreation of the novel, showing that differing creative practices can represent the same themes, but in different ways. Cleary the graphic novel has more depth than the film and can work on more levels as is always the case with literature, however, the film makes Satrapi’s story more accessible to a larger audience.

Rating: 4.5/5

See the trailer here!