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Revision as of 21:27, 9 August 2010
, 21:27, 9 August 2010no edit summary
Sometimes, re-reading a favourite book, one suddenly makes a new connection, gains a new insight and this will add another piece to the jigsaw in one's mind. A little bit more of the overall pattern, the big picture slips into place. What one thinks, how one sees things, becomes just a little clearer. Do you know what I mean? When it happens to me, it makes me smile.
So it was when I finished re-reading Empire of the Sun. As I reached the final page, I was thinking of the similarities between Ballard's mesmerising, autobiographical novel of the Second World War and [[Boy: Tales of Childhood by Roald Dahl|Boy]], the memoir of childhood written by Roald Dahl. At first glance, these books have nothing in common. Yet, if one looks a little deeper, then they are as close as two best friends are. Both great writers in their fields, both concerned with dysfunction and regarded as subversive, Ballard and Dahl have produced books that, with searing honesty, illustrate the whys and wherefores of their bodies of work. These books are Empire of the Sun and Boy. They share too a startling difference to anything else each author has written. It seems to me that these books are both benchmarks, by which we may understand their others. Where Boy explains the questioning of authority and the distrust of powerful adults in Dahl's books, Empire of the Sun explains the Ballard dark, gallows humour and view of a world distinctly out of kilter.
Jim is a small boy, living with his parents in pre-war Shanghai. His is a rich, indulged life. He attends an ex-pat private school to which he is driven each morning by Yang, the chauffeur, one of a dozen servants employed by his parents. Ex-pat life in Shanghai is luxurious, full of swimming pool parties, cocktails and lavish dinners. Jim's preoccupations are those of many small boys, though, regardless of privilege. Jim's interests are exploring on his bicycle and aeroplanes, particularly military aeroplanes. While he pursues these hobbies, his are the daydreams of every young lad: bravado; adventure; heroism. Jim is a great admirer of the Japanese soldiers thronging Shanghai in the uneasy atmosphere of those pre-war days. Jim thinks the mysterious Japanese soldiers are far more interesting and inspirational than the stiff-upper-lipped, socially conscious British or the brash Americans or the frightened, cowed Chinese. When war finally breaks out, Jim is separated from his parents in the panic and the violence and the crush. For a while, he roams Shanghai, foraging for food among the once rich, now deserted houses of the International Settlement. But after a while, the inevitable happens, and he is interned at Lunghua Camp, where he spends the rest of the war.
