Anil’s Ghost
Micheal Ondaatje’s follow-up novel to the highly successful English Patient is a work of fiction. Keep repeating that line in your head, as I did; this tale of discoveries – archaeological, forensic and, most importantly, discovering one’s self in relation to a world that has seemingly gone mad – will leave the reader with more questions than answers.
There is Anil - a Sri Lankan born forensic anthropologist based in America, returning to the island after 15 years on a human rights fact-finding mission; Sarath – an archaeologist assigned to assist Anil whose political connections and loyalties are questioned throughout; and there is Gamini – a brilliant doctor, benevolent human being and one of society’s dropouts. These three form the emotional nucleus of the novel, guiding us through their creator’s retelling of madness that was best ignored.
Sarath and Anil discover what they believe to be a contemporary skeleton – they decide to call him ‘Sailor’ – in a historic site. The implications of government sponsored murder campaigns are obvious, but both Anil and Sarath have to proceed carefully: evidence had to be gathered, analysed, second opinions sought for, and received, before it can be made public.
It is a background of fear and paranoia.
And having set his novel on this intriguing premise, Ondaatje sets off on his own exploration – that of the characters and their lives. Using frequent shifts in time and interweaving the past and present of characters’ lives, Ondaatje creates a rich tapestry of a seemingly eternal search for identity.
For those who are unfamiliar with Ondaatje’s technique, the initial chapters can be a very disorienting experience, not unlike Mark Danielewski’s in House of Leaves (only in essence; definitely not in execution). I found myself going back and forth to familiarize myself with his narrative, although I hardly complained - Ondaatje’s prose is too good for that.
While in the midst of reading the novel, I discussed the novel with a few online friends (Yep, I am that geeky). One of them was of the view that the novel’s potential to move, to shock, to stay was relative – it would, he said, make a bigger impression on a Sri Lankan than an outsider.
I disagree. In my point of view, the novel does have universal appeal; suggesting otherwise is to merely scratch the surface of the novel. Dig deeper and readers will be faced with the all too familiar theme of searching for one’s identity. The quest to discover the identity of Sailor is a perfect metaphor for the characters’ attempt to find their own identities; in this day and age when identity crisis is a problem of almost epidemic levels, Anil’s Ghost is a sincere and brilliant attempt to capture our plight.
