The Reluctant Fundamentalist Study Guide PDF

The Reluctant Fundamentalist Mohsin Hamid 1 Table of Contents: Introduction: A brief introduction to ‘The Reluctant Fundamentalist’ - p.3 Chapter One: Changez’s time at Princeton and his interview at Underwood Samson - p.4-6 Chapter Two: Changez...

The Reluctant Fundamentalist Mohsin Hamid 1 Table of Contents: Introduction: A brief introduction to ‘The Reluctant Fundamentalist’ - p.3 Chapter One: Changez’s time at Princeton and his interview at Underwood Samson - p.4-6 Chapter Two: Changez meets Erica in Greece - p.6-8 Chapter Three: The early days at Underwood Samson - p.9-12 Chapter Four: Changez meets Erica’s parents - p.12-15 Chapter Five: Changez witnesses the 9/11 attacks - p.15-18 Chapter Six: Changez returns to New York. Changez is rejected by Erica - p.19-21 Chapter Seven: Changez’s anger begins to fester. He pretends to be Chris in order to be accepted by Erica - p.22-25 Chapter Eight: Changez visits Erica at home where he sees that she has deteriorated. He is subjected to verbal abuse because of his ethnicity - p.25-29 Chapter Nine: Changez returns home to Lahore and feels ashamed. He returns to work with a beard. He visits Erica at the clinic - p.29-32 Chapter Ten: Changez goes to Valparaiso for Underwood Samson and meets Juan-Bautista and he learns about the janissaries - p.32-34 Chapter Eleven: Changez is fired by Underwood Samson. He learns of Erica’s suicide. He reads Erica’s novel and this prompts him to prepare to leave the United States - p.35-38 Chapter Twelve: Changez talks about his new job in Lahore at the University. The novel is brought to an undisclosed conclusion - p.38-41 Sample Essay Questions: A collection of essay questions based on ‘The Reluctant Fundamentalist’ – p.42-43 Suggested Further Reading: Some suggestions for further reading regarding ‘The Immigrant Experience’ - p.44 - 45 2 Introduction: Set on the treacherous faultlines of current East / West relations on an unspecified day in the post 9-11 calendar, ‘The Reluctant Fundamentalist’ relies on one of the basic tricks of narrative: arousing our expectations. Hamid begins with a title that is a curious oxymoron: the term fundamentalist is largely associated with religion and in this context, fundamentalism can be defined a religious movement characterised by a strict belief in the literal interpretation of religious texts thus surely a fundamentalist should be zealous not reluctant. However, as the dramatic monologue progresses, the duality of the title is revealed to the reader – throughout the narrative it is implied that Changez exchanges economic fundamentalism (Underwood Samson’s motto “Focus on the fundamentals”) seemingly for a darker and dangerous form of fundamentalism, though this is deliberately ambiguous. It could be interpreted that it is the United States, not Changez, who is fundamentalist, or it could be argued that Changez’s decaying relationship with the United States leads him towards religious fundamentalism. Hamid leaves the reader to grapple with these questions. The novel is written as a dramatic monologue which means that the American is a character created only out of inference and implication. It is significant that in the aftermath of 9/11 that Hamid chooses to silence the American voice. The reader is left with no choice but to accept Changez as interlocutor and as a spokesman for both Pakistan and America. The unusual structure of the one sided-dialogue where the replies and behaviour of the listener reach the reader only via the narrator’s paraphrases give an immediacy of eavesdropping. The suspense provided by this framing enhances the suspense of the story related by Changez, and as the progress of Changez’s story is mirrored by the falling of the night and the transformations on the street, the tension heightens. Of course, Changez’s voice is not the only one we hear; we hear from Erica, Jim, Wainwright and others, but they are all ventriloquized by Changez. This somewhat confessional form, in which Changez divulges very personal information makes the story seem like a disclosure as well as creating an atmosphere of greater confidence and confidentiality. However, this technique dramatises antagonism as well as intimacy, and Changez readily detects resistance in his listener. We keep being reminded of the gulf between the narrator and his American companion and this continues to inject tension into the narrative. With its minimalist but piercingly clever prose, its use of allegory and didactic and moralistic purpose, it could reasonably be argued that this novel is a modern-day fable. Like a fable, the novel seeks to provide guidance and to force readers to contemplate the confusing world of contemporary politics. Hamid works within the form of a framed narrative and he was undoubtedly influenced by ‘One Thousand and One Nights’, a collection of folk tales assembled during the Islamic Golden Age. Put simply, a framed narrative is a story within a story, oscillating between the storyteller in the present moment and the story they tell. Hamid has also cited ‘The Fall’ by Albert Camus as a work that he has admired and consequently influenced his writing of ‘The Reluctant Fundamentalist’. 3 Chapter One: “Do not be frightened by my beard: I am a lover of America.” (p.1) Changez’s beard provocatively baits stereotypes linking to religious fundamentalism drawing our attention to divisions based on the superficial i.e. Changez’s beard. Changez implores the American not to be “frightened” by his beard and reassures him that he is a “lover of America” though the reader can certainly sense that this is a loaded statement and that his relationship with the United States is more complex and conflicted that he initially indicates. The narrative frequently uses a technique called procatalepsis or prolepsis and this is the first example of the device. It is a figure of speech in which the speaker raises an objection to their own argument and then immediately answers it. By doing so, they hope to strengthen their argument by dealing with possible counter-arguments before their audience can raise them. “I noticed that you were looking for something; more than looking, in fact you seemed to be on a mission” (p.1) Here the word “mission” is italicised. Throughout the course of the narrative we are never entirely sure who is on a “mission” and this is reinforced by the predator/prey metaphors that permeate the text. Here Changez is playing upon the idea of Islamic fundamentalists being on a “mission from God”. “Instead it was your bearing that allowed me to identify you” (p.2) Changez perceptively identifies this man to be an American from his “bearing” alone and his monologue is interspersed with an accumulating appraisal of this quiet American that injects a growing tension. The implication here is that Americans’ physicality and social interactions are apparently and profoundly distinct. “You prefer that seat, with your back so close to the wall? Very well, although you will benefit less from the intermittent breeze, which, when it does blow, makes these warm afternoons more pleasant. And will you not remove your jacket?” (p.2) This is the first of many suggestions that point towards the idea that the unnamed and muted American is a government agent of some kind. “Yes, you are right: it was Princeton. Quite a guess, I must say.” (p.3) Here the reader is alerted to the possibility that the American has prior knowledge of Changez and therefore that the meeting is not coincidental. Equally, Changez seems thoroughly prepared for the meeting suggesting that he may in fact know the nature of the American’s “mission”. “What did I think of Princeton? Well the answer to that question requires a story. When I first arrived, I looked around me at the Gothic buildings – younger, I later learned, than many of the mosques of this city, but made through acid treatment and ingenious stonemasonry to look older” (p.3) Here Changez draws our attention to the cultural disparity in America suggesting that America prioritises appearance over substance by artificially altering its history. “This is a dream come true. Princeton inspired in me the feeling that my life was a film in which I was the star and everything was possible. I have access to this beautiful campus, I thought, to professors who are titans in their fields and fellow students who are philosopher-kings in the making.” (p.3) Changez relishes the traditions and culture of Pakistan but appreciated the opportunities that America and Princeton gave him and this is captured in this highly romanticised depiction of the university. Changez is drawn to both cultures simultaneously and as we trace Changez’s turbulent evolution, we see him grappling with this cultural and philosophical dichotomy. 4 “invited into the ranks of meritocracy.” (p.4) Princeton and afterwards Underwood Samson afford Changez the opportunity to succeed. Note Hamid’s use of the military term “ranks”. “Every fall, Princeton raised her skirt for the corporate recruiters who came onto campus and – as you say in America – showed them some skin.” (p.5) This is an overtly sexualised image. This metaphor is the opposite of Islam as women have to cover up. Changez is acknowledging that American culture degraded him. “there is no need to reach under your jacket, I assume to grasp your wallet” (p.6) Each of these moments seem to build towards an increasingly pressing suggestion that the American is an agent and Changez’s observations and acute awareness of the American’s movements suggest that he may not be entirely innocent himself. Arguably he also treats the American with the same sort of generalised suspicion and lightly veiled belligerence that he, a bearded Pakistani, received in America in the aftermath of 9/11. “But irreproachably polite: you would have been surprised by the sweetness of his speech, if only you understood Urdu.” (p.6) Changez’s excessive politeness is designed to be menacing; Changez appears to be hospitable but there is a sinister undercurrent of hostility evident. Here Changez draws attention to the language barrier and the comment seems carefully executed to exacerbate the stranger’s feeling of unease and this consequently further ignites the tension; the fact that the stranger cannot understand what the waiter is saying reinforces his isolation in Lahore. Ignorance is the American’s key vulnerability and Changez is utilising that to his advantage. Changez is also perhaps highlighting America’s reluctance to understand other cultures. “he, too, had the look of a seasoned army officer.” (p.7) Although Changez challenges the American not to lapse into stereotyping; he too is guilty of making assumptions, unless of course Changez does know who this inaudible American is. “like a jeweler’s when he inspects out of curiosity a diamond he intends neither to buy nor to sell.” (p.8) This elaborate simile is the first of many suggestions that recur about Jim’s romantic interest in Changez. “So I get where you’re coming from, Changez. You’re hungry, and that’s a good thing in my book.” (p.10) Jim seemingly takes a liking to Changez because he assumes that they are from similar financial backgrounds. “But status, as in any traditional, class-conscious society, declines more slowly than wealth. So we retain out Punjab Club membership. We continue to be invited to the functions and weddings and parties of the city’s elite. And we look with a mixture of disdain and envy upon the rising class of entrepreneurs.” (p.11) There is a real sense of bitterness evident in Changez’s language regarding Pakistan’s economic decline. Changez finds this hard to reconcile with America’s ever-increasing success. “we are part of a broader malaise afflicting not only the formerly rich but much of the formerly middle-class as well: a growing inability to purchase what we previously could… At Princeton, I conducted myself in public like a young prince, generous and carefree. But I also, as quietly as I could, held down three on-campus jobs… Most people I met were taken in by my public persona. Jim was not. But fortunately, where I saw shame, he saw opportunity.” (p.12) Part of the tension or ambiguity of Changez’s self-identity, particularly in the US, derives from not being able to transfer much of the currency of his elite status in Pakistan to the West, though, of course, his refined manners and speech do lend him some social capital – particularly with Erica and in the work place. 5 “Ah, our tea has arrived! Do not look so suspicious. I assure you, sir, nothing untoward will happen to you, not even a runny stomach. After all, it is not as if it has been poisoned.” (p.13) On the surface it seems as if Changez is attempting to befriend and reassure the American and such comments are certainly indicative of suspicion on the American’s part. However, Changez’s obsequiously polite nature arguably veils his darker side. The fact that the word “poisoned” is italicised adds to the sinister undertone. “The sky was a brilliant blue, so different from the orange, dusty sky above us today, and I felt something well up inside me, a sense of pride so strong that it made me lift my head and yell, as much to my own surprise as I am sure it was to the other students passing by: “Thank you, God!” (p.16) Changez’s sheer joy is underscored by the plosive alliteration “brilliant blue”: evidently Changez is bursting with pride. For a book entitled ‘The Reluctant Fundamentalist’, it is surprising that this is one of the only times we see a vaguely religious dimension to Changez’s character, indeed, the fact that his declaration is a “surprise” to him indicates that he is not overtly religious. Therefore, it could be argued that Hamid is attempting to show the reader that religion is not always a catalyst for radicalisation. “But it did not, could not, make me forget such things as how much I enjoy the tea in this, the city of my birth, steeped long enough to acquire a rich, dark color.” (p.16-17) Changez presents the reader with a positive image of the opportunities he was afforded at Princeton, however, the phrase “did not, could not” which includes the repetition of “not” for emphasis is highly suggestive of the fact that he not only takes pride in his Pakistani roots, but also feels the pull of home quite keenly. Chapter Two: “I do not presume to know your preference.” (p.18) This is a very intimate conversation to be having with a stranger and Changez seems somewhat keen to flaunt his open-mindedness in front of the American. “and was well-liked as an exotic acquaintance by some of the others” (p.19) Despite the fact that Changez initially feels a sense of belonging in America, he acknowledges his outsider status. “so stunningly regal was she. Her hair was piled up like a tiara on her head, and her navel – ah, what a navel: made firm, I would later learn, by years of tae kwon do – was visible beneath a short T-shirt bearing an image of Chairman Mao.” (p.19) The novel charts both Changez’s professional quest and his personal one. Allegorically, Erica is the other face of American culture (Am-Erica). The tiara simile calls to mind the American icon, the Statue of Liberty. The statue is an icon of freedom in the United States and was largely regarded as a welcoming sight to immigrants arriving from abroad. Erica practises tae kwon do and wears a shirt “bearing an image of Chairman Mao” which suggests that for all its modernity, the United States does not have a culture of its own. “I’m not good at being alone.” (p.21) Erica’s insecurity is immediately established. “You give off this strong sense of home” (p.22) It is Erica who introduces the motif of homeland. She is attracted to Changez because he is her opposite. Now that Chris has passed away, Erica feels rootless and empty. It is almost as though her “oddly anachronistic” behaviour puts her at ease. “I will admit that there were details which annoyed me. The ease with which they parted with money, for example, thinking nothing of the occasional – but not altogether 6 infrequent – meal costing perhaps, fifty dollars a head. Or their self-righteousness in dealing with those whom they had paid for a service. “But you told us,” they would say to Greeks twice their age, before insisting things be done their way. I, with my finite and depleting reserve of cash and my traditional sense of deference to one’s seniors, found myself wondering what quirk of human history my companions – many of whom I would have regarded as upstarts in my own country, so devoid of refinement were they – were in a position to conduct themselves in the world as though they were its ruling class.” (p.23-24) Whilst, at times, the hedonistic and affluent lifestyle of his American companions impresses Changez, he continues to cling on to the values that were instilled in him as a child. Changez is ambivalent in his attitude towards his American acquaintances; he has an elitist attitude and enjoys evaluating them. Though the events that occur in the aftermath of 9/11 draw Changez’s resentments to the surface, it is clear that a glimmer of antipathy is evident prior to the atrocity. To him, they represent America as carelessly capitalist and indifferent and dismissive to people and things. The Princetonians are a microcosmic illustration of American complacency and entitlement and this passage is laced with bitterness. Changez’s words seem almost prophetic given the current political situation in America with Donald Trump as President. It can reasonably be argued that he is “devoid of refinement”. “But it may be that I am inclined to exaggerate these irritants in retrospect, knowing the course my relationship with your country would later take.” (p.24) Here Changez draws the reader’s attention to the possibility of his unreliability as a narrator. “She attracted people to her; she had presence, an uncommon magnetism. Documenting her effect on her habitat, a naturalist would likely have compared her to a lioness: strong, sleek, and invariably surrounded by her pride.” (p.24) Changez’s complete infatuation with Erica is mirrored in his initial embrace of the American dream; Changez compares Erica to a “lioness” because she is “strong” and “sleek”. Erica, like America, is tremendously alluring. “Yet one got the sense that she existed internally at a degree of remove from those around her… But one felt that some part of her – and this, perhaps, was a not insubstantial component of her appeal – was out of reach, lost in thoughts unsaid.” (p.24-25) Changez is enthralled by Erica; she is beautiful but elusive. Despite the fact that she is mesmerising, she seems to be emotionally distant from other people. “Suffice it to say that in relationship to contemporary female icons of your country, she belonged more to the camp of Paltrow than to that of Spears. But my cultural reference has fallen on deaf ears.” (p.25) This is an oddly awkward comment. However, it could be seen as underhand mockery on Changez’s behalf as his references to Pakistani culture are from ‘high culture’ such as Urdu poets and Kings, whereas his references to American culture are largely cinematic and from popular culture. Arguably Changez is attempting to illustrate the shallowness of American culture by this juxtaposition. “Or are you watching that man, the one with the beard far longer than mine, who has stopped to stand beside them? You think he will scold them for the inappropriateness of their dress” (p.25) Changez not only assumes that the American is distracted by the young woman, he also predicts that the American assumes the bearded man will disapprove of how the young girls are dressed. Changez is addressing the widespread perception in America that Islam is misogynistic in all cases. “Its cities were fortified, protected by ancient castles; they guarded against the Turks, much like part of a wall against the East that still stands. How strange it was for me to think I grew up on the other side.” (p.26) Changez draws our attention to the divide between 7 East and West. The phrase “the other side” also illuminates Changez’s divided identity – he feels that he cannot belong to both the East and West simultaneously. “Erica was untying the straps of her bikini. And then, as I watched, only an arm’s length away, she bared her breasts to the sun… I followed her, watching the muscles of her lower back tense delicately to stabilize her spine.” (p.26-27) Evidently Erica is graced with immense beauty as Changez is acutely aware of her physical appearance. “We slipped inside, she swam out into the bay with powerful strokes, and then she trod water until I had caught up with her. For a time we were both silent and I felt our slippery legs graze each other as we churned the sea.” (p.28) Sibilance permeates this passage; this highly sensual and sensory language further illustrates Erica’s alluring appearance. “It is the effect of scarcity, one’s rules of propriety make one thirst for the improper.” (p.29) Changez acknowledges the effect his Pakistani upbringing had on him and this highlights the vast differences between himself and the unknown American man sat opposite. “it was my boyfriend’s… He died last year… His name was Chris.” (p.30) Allegorically the name Chris can be read as representing Christianity. America is so fixated upon Christianity that they are unable to see past it. The fact that Chris is dead symbolises the fact that America should move forwards. Other readers of the novel have seen Chris as representing Christopher Columbus, the man who ‘discovered’ America. “She listened to me with a series of smiles, as though she were sipping at my descriptions and finding them to her taste.” (p.31) A vibrant and highly sensory image which suggests Erica’s fascination with Changez’s otherness. “Except my home was a guy with long skinny fingers.” (p.32) Erica’s inability to forget the past renders her emotionally sterile. “my mannerisms were, in my opinion, somewhat exaggerated, but the others were spot on” (p.32) Changez’s judgement of situations and the way he recounts them is heavily coloured by his own ego, once again drawing the reader’s attention to potential unreliability in Changez’s narration. “When my turn came, I said that I hoped one day to be the dictator of an Islamic republic with nuclear capability; the others appeared shocked, and I was forced to explain that I had been joking. Erica alone smiled; she seemed to understand my sense of humor.” (p.33) Here Changez plays upon the stereotype of Islam as a threat, though given the ending of the novel it arguably has a loaded significance. “But what is that? Ah, your mobile phone! I have not previously seen its like; it is, I suspect, one of those models capable of communicating via satellite when no ground coverage is available. Will you not answer it? I assure you, sir, I will do my utmost to avoid eavesdropping on your conversation.” (p.34) Again the undercurrent of possible espionage resurfaces and thus glimmers of menace break through into the narrative. We are never sure who is on a “mission” and Hamid deliberately fosters this confusion. 8 Chapter Three: “We locals treasure these last days of what passes for spring here in Lahore; the sun, although hot, has such a soothing effect. Or, I should say, it has such a soothing effect on us, for you, sir, continue to appear ill at ease. I hope you will not mind my saying so, but the frequency and purposefulness with which you glance about – a steady tick-tick-tick seeming to beat in your head as your move your gaze from one point to the next – brings to mind the behavior of an animal that has ventured too far from its lair and is now, in unfamiliar surroundings uncertain whether it is predator or prey!” (p.35) Changez immediately asserts his nationality drawing the reader’s attention to the binary opposition between the American and the East. The contrasting personal pronouns (“us” and “you”) clearly illustrate a division. Changez’s comments here seem deliberately crafted to heighten the stranger’s anxiety instead of dissipating it. For example, the “tick-tick-tick” is highly suggestive of a bomb and the striking predator/prey metaphor that concludes the paragraph is very sinister indeed. “Observe instead how the shadows have lengthened. Soon they will shut to traffic the gates at either end of this market, transforming Old Anarkali into a pedestrian-only-piazza… The gates are being locked, as you can seem and those gaps are too narrow for anything wider than a man.” (p.35-36) Here the sense of impending enclosure elevates the threat that pervades the narrative. “moving to New York felt – so unexpectedly – like coming home.” (p.36) New York instills a sense of belonging in Changez because of the familiar, homey comforts it offers: taxi drivers who speak Urdu, a Punjab deli that sits a mere two blocks from his apartment, and a float that plays a song he remembers from his cousin’s wedding. Changez reconfigures his sense of belonging by translating his past into his present, the culture, food, language, and space of Pakistan into New York. “the coincidence of crossing Fifth avenue during a parade and hearing, from loudspeakers mounted on the South Asian Gay and Lesbian Association float, a song to which I had danced at my cousin’s wedding.” (p.37) Changez makes several references to homosexuality which could lead to the suggestion that Changez is a closet homosexual. However, it could simply be that he identifies with other outsider groups. “I was, in four and a half years, never an American; I was immediately a New Yorker. What? My voice is rising? You are right; I tend to become sentimental when I think of that city. It still occupies a place of great fondness in my heart” (p.37) Changez distinguishes sharply between New York and the US – he eventually becomes disillusioned with America but still remembers people and places affectionately. Although it is difficult to tell, there is the suggestion that the American is becoming more invested in Changez’s story as he seems to be asking more questions. “which is quite something, I must say, given the circumstances under which, after eight months of residence, I would later depart.” (p.37) Here the ending of the novel is foreshadowed. This plot device draws the reader further into Changez’s narrative. “I remember my sense of wonder on the day I reported for duty.” (p.37) The military language here exemplifies Changez’s role as an Underwood Samson warrior. This is later recaptured Jim’s statement later in the novel “In wartime soldiers don’t really fight for their flags, Changez. They fight for their friends, their buddies. Their team.” (p.174) 9 “nothing had prepared me for the drama, the power of the view from their lobby.” (p.38) Changez feels drawn to both Underwood Samson and Erica because of their “power” and the italics here exemplify his admiration and awe. “Often during my stay in your country, such comparisons troubled me. In fact, they did more than trouble me: they made me resentful. Four thousand years ago, we, the people of the Indus River basin, had cities that were laid out on grids and boasted underground sewers, while the ancestors of those who would invade and colonize America were illiterate barbarians. Now our cities were largely unplanned, unsanitary affairs, and America had universities with individual endowments greater than our national budget for education. To be reminded of this vast disparity was, for me, to be ashamed.” (p.38) Although Changez’s job at Underwood Samson gives him a sense of belonging, it also aggravates his feeling of resentment making him feel more like an outsider. Pakistan has regressed and Changez sees the state of modern Pakistan as a betrayal of the region’s rich culture. “On that day, I did not think of myself as a Pakistani, but as an Underwood Samson trainee.” (p.38) The initials of Underwood Samson (US) alert us to the allegorical possibilities in Hamid’s depiction of the organisation. The name Samson has biblical connotations as Samson in the bible is blessed with great strength. The valuation firm specialises in ascertaining the fundamental “value” of companies prior to recommending their demise. It is a self-professed meritocracy, in which the successful reap material rewards but in which the weaker and more vulnerable are ruthlessly disposed of as exemplified in Sherman’s declaration that “If you do well, you’ll be rewarded. If you don’t you’ll be out the door.” There is a sense of cultural dilution as Changez now sees himself as a trainee American. This certainly links to the Darwinist theory of economics which revolves around success at all costs and survival of the fittest. “Twirling his pen between his fingers in a fashion reminiscent of Val Kilmer in Top Gun, he leaned towards me and whispered “No points for second place, Maverick.” “You’re dangerous, Ice Man,” I replied – attempting to approximate a naval aviator’s drawl – and the two of us exchanged a grin.” (p.39-40) Changez and Wainwright are both outsiders but they bond over American culture. “I see you are impressed by the thoroughness of our training. I was as well. It was a testament to the systematic pragmatism – call it professionalism – that underpins your country’s success in so many fields. At Princeton, learning was imbued with an aura of creativity; at Underwood Samson, creativity was not excised – it was still present and valued – but it ceded its primacy to efficiency. Maximum return was the maxim to which we retuned, time and again. We learned to prioritize – to determine the axis on which advancement would be most beneficial” (p.41) The detailed descriptions of Changez’s training reflect Hamid’s real-life experiences. The stranger’s apparent admiration suggests his personal experience of similarly strict training. Additionally, the language used by Hamid when discussing Underwood Samson has clear, military and contemporary resonances. For example, the word “advancement” has military connotations and the word “axis” was used by Bush (“axis of evil”) when declaring his war on terror in the aftermath of 9/11. “I felt empowered, and besides, all manner of new possibilities were opening up to me… I could, if I desired, take my colleagues out for an after-work-drink – an activity classed as “new hire cultivation” – and with impunity spend in an hour more than my father earned in a day!” (p.42) Changez begins to enjoy the luxuries of a high paying job. Here the comparison between East and West sums up the reckless extravagance of Changez’s time in the world of high finance; initially Changez enjoys the opulent lifestyle that has been bestowed upon him. 10 “Forgive me: of course you do; you are here, after all, on business.” (p.42) Here the word “business” is sinisterly ambiguous. Changez evidently has no qualms about airing his assumptions about the American which again could suggest that Changez has been expecting such a visit. “that shorn of hair and dressed in battle fatigues, we would have been virtually indistinguishable.” (p.43) Changez is initially struck by the diversity among Underwood Samson’s members, a diversity which he later realises is only superficial among these graduates of Ivy League universities. Military language permeates the text and here Changez draws an explicit connection between military power and money. This is something that is explored later in the novel when Juan-Bautista acts as a catalyst for Changez’s epiphany; Changez feels that his contributions to Underwood Samson and America’s financial security equate to violence. “Beware the dark side, young Skywalker.” (p.43) Here Wainwright’s warning is somewhat ominous. Presumably he is referring to the glitz and glamour of American life, however, there is certainly a dual meaning beneath the surface. “Neither team is quite so good now.” (p.44) Changez and Wainwright are laughing at the decline of Western imperialism in their native countries and bonding over their shared non-Western identity. “unsheathing my credit card… but he did not accept American Express.” (p.44) Again, the word “unsheathing” has military connotations. When Changez first finds the Pak Punjab Deli, he feels that he is at home, however, he is slowly becoming a wealthy outsider. “One can only wonder what series of accidents could have left him so thoroughly disfigured.” (p.45) There is a very clear contrast between the excessively affluent America and poor Pakistan. The use of italics again suggests that Changez is attempting to provoke the American and heighten his feeling of unease. “I was aware of an advantage conferred upon me by my foreignness, and I tried to utilize it as much as I could.” (p.47) Changez is conscious of his distinctiveness and his natural politeness initially sets him apart in the business realm. “It comes from feeling out of place, he said. “Believe me. I know.” (p.48) Jim, too, feels like an outsider and thus attempts to establish a connection with Changez based on their shared experiences. Throughout the narrative, Jim makes myriad insistent, presumptuous and often misplaced comparisons suggesting that he projects his desires onto Changez. “The party was being held at Jim’s house in the Hamptons, a magnificent property that made me think of The Great Gatsby.” (p.48) Hamid, in the Hamptons scene, portrays Changez as a 21st Century Nick Carraway; a slightly detached outsider watching the gilded elite with eager captivation. Like the famous narrator, Changez feels a peculiar ambiguity to the opulence around him. “I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life.” (The Great Gatsby, Chapter Two). Eventually, Nick feels ambivalent to life on the East Coast. “The sun had set, and I could see the lights of the other houses twinkling in the distance along the curve of the shore. The waves were whispering as they came in, causing me to recall being in Greece not long ago.” (p.49) “In his blue gardens, men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars.” (The Great Gatsby, Chapter Three). The alliteration and personification in this section mirrors the beauty of Fitzgerald’s lyrical description. 11 “and with that he tapped me on either shoulder with the blade of his hand – an odd deliberate gesture – and led me back inside.” (p.50) Jim shows some signs of being romantically interested in Changez. However, this gesture also seems strangely like a knighting presenting the reader with an image of Changez as an Underwood Samson warrior. “Your instructors say that you’ve got a bit of the warrior in you.” (p.50) Another example of military language which augments our view of Changez as a soldier in Underwood Samon’s army. Contextually, it is important to explore Genghis Khan (1162-1227), the founder and first Great Khan of the Mongolian Empire. After uniting the nomadic tribes of the Mongolian plateau, he conquered huge chunks of central Asia and China. Whilst many people see the name “Changez” as meaning “changes”, Hamid has confirmed that he took inspiration from Genghis Khan as “Genghis” in Urdu is “Changez”. This analogy, therefore, forces the reader to consider the fact that Changez is part of an imperial force working as part of Underwood Samson to develop America’s economic power. Due to Underwood Samson’s global reach, he is exacerbating the divide between wealthy capitalist America and the impoverished parts of the world Underwood Samson visits. “Yes, I was happy in that moment. I felt bathed in a warm sense of accomplishment. Nothing troubled me; I was a young New Yorker with the city at my feet. How soon that would change! My world would be transformed, just as this market around us has been.” (p.51) The phrase “How soon that would change!” further piques the reader’s curiosity. This is one of the many hints throughout the monologue that his enthusiasm for contributing to America will not endure. “Yes, we have acquired a certain familiarity with the recent history of our surroundings, and that – in my humble opinion – allows us to put the present into much better perspective.” (p.51-52) Here Changez is literally discussing the changes on the street outside the café, however, he is also encouraging the American to cast away his initial prejudices and reassess his opinion of Changez and his story. As the novel is steeped in current events, Hamid too, invites readers to question and re-evaluate by challenging their own innate prejudices. Chapter Four: “I see that you have noticed the scar on my forearm, here, where the skin is both darker and smoother than that which surrounds it… as though you are wondering what sort of training camp could have given a fellow from the plains such as myself cause to engage in these activities.” (p.53) Here the phrase “training camp” alerts us to possible terrorist regimes and Changez seems to cultivate the American’s and indeed the reader’s anxieties about his possible involvement in such groups. Arguably the scar encapsulates the way in which Changez seems to the stranger – his comments, like his scar, could be taken as either innocent or sinister. “We have in this country a phenomenon with which you will doubtless be unfamiliar, given the state of plenty that characterizes your homeland… In America, this would have been the start, in all likelihood, of a protracted bout of litigation” (p.53-54) Again bitterness invades Changez’s language; the entirety of the narrative is laced with subtle criticisms of America which reveal a festering feeling of resentment. “It is remarkable how theatrical manmade light can be once sunlight has begun to fade, how it can affect us emotionally, even now, at the start of the twenty-first century, in cities as large and bright as this one. Think of the expressive beauty of the Empire State Building, illuminated green for St Patrick’s Day, or pale blue on the evening of Frank 12 Sinatra’s death. Surely, New York by night must be one of the greatest sights in the world.” (p.54-55) Changez continues to find connections between Lahore and New York and they often feel a little forced. Could he be stalling for time? The use of light and dark suffuses the novel and arguably this is a metaphor for knowledge that is revealed and obscured. Is Changez illuminating some aspects of his story but concealing others? Or is he embellishing his story for theatrical effect. The reader is forced to question how much of Changez’s story is performance. “It was a testament to the open-mindedness and – that overused word – cosmopolitan – nature of New York in those days that I felt completely comfortable on the subway in this attire.” (p.55) This is a pointed qualifier; Changez thrived and felt comfortable in the melting pot of New York, indeed, New York pre 9/11 was a habitat of cosmopolitan modernity where difference was celebrated and citizenship was borderless, however, it is clear that his sense of comfort and belonging is temporary. “I was instructed to press the button for the penthouse, a term associated in my mind with luxury and – yes, I will confess – with pornography as well. So it was in a state of heightened expectation that I arrived at the door of Erica’s flat” (p.56-57) Changez attempts to inject humour into his story in order to find a connection with the American man sat opposite. “I felt a peculiar feeling; I felt at home.” (p.57) Again Erica is associated with the motif of home and homeland and the allegory is extended. “I’ve had this sharp speck inside me for a long time, and I’ve been trying to make it more comfortable, so slowly I’ve turned it into a pearl. But now it is finally being taken out, and just as it’s going I’m realizing there’s a gap being left behind, you know, a dent on my belly where it used to sit. And so I kind of want to hold on to it a little longer” (p.59) Here the ‘grain of sand’ analogy is used. Erica remains unchallenged in her obsession with her idealised past as Changez is too polite to pry. “I met her eyes, and for the first time I perceived that there was something broken behind them, like a tiny crack in a diamond that becomes visible only when viewed through a magnifying lens; normally it is hidden by the brilliance of the stone.” (p.59) Erica and America on the exterior are glamorous and alluring, however, if you look beneath the surface, they are cracked and broken as exemplified by this ornate simile. “As we were leaving her room, I noticed a sketch on the wall. It depicted under stormy skies a tropical island with a runway and a steep volcano; nestled in the caldera of the volcano was a lake with another, smaller island in it – an island on an island – wonderfully sheltered and calm.” (p.60) Erica’s fascination with islands underscores her isolation. Unhealthily, she surrounds herself with relics of Chris. “it reminded me of our miniature paintings, of the sort one would find if one ventured around the corner to the Lahore Museum or the National College of Arts.” (p.60) Changez is desperate to find a connection to the painting and this is evidence of his desire to find a connection with Erica. “she held my hand, said hello, and then, still holding my hand, added approvingly to Erica, “Very nice.” (p.61) Erica’s mother appraises Changez as if he is an object. Although Erica’s are not openly rude to Changez, they do treat him differently. “You drink?” “He’s twenty-two,” Erica’s mother said on my behalf, in a tone that suggested, So of course he drinks. “I had a Pakistani working for me once,” Erica’s father 13 said.” “Never drank.” “I do, sir,” I assured him. “Thank you.” (p.61) Changez is eager to show Erica’s family that they are alike. “You seem puzzled by this – and not for the first time. Perhaps you misconstrue the significance of my beard, which, I should in any case make clear, I had not yet kept when I arrived in New York. In truth, many Pakistani’s drink; alcohol’s illegality in our county has roughly the same effect as marijuana in yours… What? Is it not a sin? Yes it certainly is – and so, for that matter, is coveting thy neighbor’s wife. I see you smile; we understand one another then.” (p.61-62) Changez addresses the common bond between people; certain human actions are instinctive and therefore Changez encourages the American to find a mutual understanding. Once again, Changez tackles and dismantles stereotypes. “Economy’s falling apart though, no? Corruption, dictatorship, the rich living like princes while everyone else suffers. Solid people, don’t get me wrong. I like Pakistanis. But the elite has raped that place well and good, right? And fundamentalism. You guys have got some serious problems with fundamentalism.” (p.63) The verb “raped” again associates America with sex. Additionally, his comment – however accurate – encapsulates America’s view of Pakistan as largely negative. “But his tone – with, if you will forgive me – its typically American undercurrent of condescension – struck a negative chord with me” (p.63) The content of the remark is not the issue, it is his tone of superiority which annoys Changez. Once again, however, Changez stereotypes Americans after explicitly encouraging the American not to judge him based on his appearance. “I realized I was being ushered into an insider’s world – the chic heart of this city – to which I would otherwise have had no access.” (p.64) Erica moves in affluent and privileged circles representing the high-living, urban, wealthy American. Changez attempts to blend in and act more American around Erica evidenced in his lack of communication with the Punjabi taxi driver on the previous page “I could hear our driver chatting on his mobile in Punjabi and knew from his accent that he was Pakistani. Normally I would have said hello, but on that particular night I did not.” (p.63) “At these moments she frequently become introspective; it was as though their presence allowed her to withdraw, to recede a half-step inside herself.” (p.66) The friends Erica attracts are used as a sort of self-defence mechanism. “the sensation that her body was so strong and yet belonged to someone so wounded lingered with me until long afterwards. Indeed, weeks later, in my hotel room in Manila, I would at times wake up to that sensation as though touched by a ghost.” (p.68-69) The ghost simile here foreshadows Erica’s later demise – she is emotionally fractured, seemingly beyond repair. “But why do you leap to your feet? Do not be alarmed, sir; as I mentioned before, fluctuations and blackouts are common in Pakistan… The sky above us still contains a tinge of color, and I can see you quite clearly as you stand there with your hand in your jacket.” (p.69) Despite the fact that Changez and the American have become more well acquainted, it is quite clear that the American still sees Changez as a threat exemplified by the fact that he instinctively puts his hand in his jacket. Indeed, as the afternoon reclines into evening, the American’s agitation increases. 14 “And you – to jump as though you were a mouse suddenly under the shadow of a hawk!” (p.69) Yet another predator/prey metaphor here. Throughout the narrative, Changez continually attempts to augment the stranger’s feelings of unease and anxiety. “Then I will summon our waiter immediately.” (p.70) Like most chapters, this chapter ends on a note of considerable courtesy. However, the reader is left to questions whether or not this is a façade; Changez is undoubtedly assertive in his dealings with the American, but arguably such comments border on being a little too forceful. Chapter Five: “They are gone now; it is possible that, like butterflies and fireflies, they belonged to a dreamier world incompatible with the pollution and congestion of a modern metropolis.” (p.71) The suggestion here is that Changez is incompatible with America and this image foreshadows his later disillusionment with his host nation. “But bats have survived here. They are successful urban dwellers, like you and I, swift enough to escape detection and canny enough to hunt among a crowd. I marvel at their ability to navigate the cityscape; no matter how close they come to these building, they are never involved in a collision. Butterflies, on the other hand, tend to splatter on the windshields of passing automobiles, and I have once seen a firefly bumping repeatedly against the window of a house, unable to comprehend the glass that barred its way.” (p.71-72) Changez seems to turn the natural into the unnatural and the interplay between menace and friendliness continues. The antique flavour of his language seems to mask his menace. The image of animals flying into buildings foreshadows 9/11. The firefly is a recurring motif in the novel and arguably it functions as a metaphor for the immigrant, forever on the outside of their adopted home. “We had flown first class, and I will never forget the feeling of reclining in my seat, clad in my suit, as I was served champagne by an attractive and – yes, I was indeed so brazen as to allow myself to believe – flirtatious flight attendant. I was, in my own eyes, a veritable James Bond – only younger, darker, and possibly better paid. How odd it seems now to recall that time; how quickly my sense of self-satisfaction would later disappear.” (p.72-73) Changez is enjoying the luxuries that his job affords him and indulges fantasies about how he is perceived by others. The concluding sentence of this paragraph creates a sense of foreboding; the reader, guided by the title of the novel, may be speculating upon possible scenarios. Here the narrative feels very well-rehearsed and it is clear that Changez is embellishing to suit his current agenda. “Have you been East, sir? You have! Truly, you are well-traveled for an American” (p.73) Once again Changez reveals himself to be guilty of stereotyping; here the assumption is that all Americans are culturally unaware. “I am increasingly curious as to the nature of your business – but I am certain you will tell me in due course” (p.73) Hamid continues to ignite the reader’s curiosity about the American’s agenda by bleeding subtle comments about his “mission” into Changez’s narrative. “I tried not to dwell on the comparison; it was one thing to accept that New York was more wealthy than Lahore, but quite another to swallow the fact that Manila was as well.” (p.73-74) Here Changez’s bitterness is palpable; Changez exists between two worlds and consequently feels hollow. 15 “I attempted to act and speak, as much as my dignity would permit, more like an American… I wanted my share of that respect as well.” (p.74) By trying to act more like an American, Changez is compromising his cultural identity in a bid to win the deference and acceptance of those around him. “So I learned to tell executives my father’s age, “I need it now”; I learned to cut to the front of lines with an extraterritorial smile; and I learned to answer, when asked where I was from, that I was from New York. Did these things trouble me, you ask? Certainly, sir, I was often ashamed.” (p.74) Changez adopts the behaviour he so readily condemned in his American comrades in Greece. Here the American interjects with a question which suggests a renewed interest in Changez’s tale. “I felt enormously powerful on these outings, knowing my team was shaping the future. Would these workers be fired?” (p.76) Changez takes great delight in feeling powerful and even fantasises about firing people. America is conducting and dictating the economic climate of the world around it. “There was an undisguised hostility in his expression; I had no idea why… But his dislike was so obvious, so intimate, that it got under my skin…Perhaps, I thought, his wife had just left him; perhaps he resents me for the privileges implied by my suit and expensive car; perhaps he simply does not like Americans. I remained preoccupied with this matter far longer than I should have, pursuing several possibilities that all assumed… that he and I shared a sort of Third World sensibility.” (p.76-77) This overt hostility perturbs Changez. He lists three possible reasons for this look of disdain but he fails to recognise the possibility that his dislike stems from the fact that Changez – a non-westerner – has begun working for a Western company. Changez is becoming less self-aware as he moves up the ranks at Underwood Samson – in the same paragraph Changez identifies himself as an American but then articulates his belief that he and the driver and inextricably connected by their “Third World sensibility.” “Then one of my colleagues asked me a question, and when I turned to answer him, something rather strange took place. I looked at him… and thought, you are so foreign. I felt in that moment much closer to the Filipino driver than to him; I felt I was play-acting” (p.77) Changez experiences a conflict between his materialistic ambition and his ethnic and cultural roots. “I found this rock pool. Do you like rock pools? I love them. They’re like little worlds. Perfect, self-contained, transparent. They look like they’re frozen in time. Then the tide rises and a wave crashes in and they start all over again with new fish left behind.” (p.78) Erica’s obsession with rock pools suggest her reluctance to move forward in time. The word “crashes” hints at the events of 9/11 as well as being indicative of the crashing of Erica’s world when Chris died. “So we learned to savor the denial of gratification – the most un-American of pleasures! – and I for one could subsist quite happily on a diet of emails such as that which I have just described.” (p.79) Changez’s enjoyment of the emails affirms the influence of his Pakistani upbringing as well as hinting at America’s culture of instant gratification. “You’re a shark. And that’s a compliment, coming from me. It’s what they called me when I first joined. A shark.” (p.80) The shark metaphor presents the reader with a predatory image as sharks are at the top of the aquatic food chain and prey on smaller creatures. This symbolises the way in which a capitalist economy thrives. 16 “As I have already told you, I did not grow up in poverty. But I did grow up with a poor boy’s sense of longing, in my case not for what my family had never had, but for what we had had and lost. Some of my relatives held onto imagined memories the way homeless people hold onto lottery tickets. Nostalgia was their crack cocaine, if you will, and my childhood was littered with the consequences of their addiction… In this, Jim and I were indeed similar: he had grown up outside the candy store, and I had grown up on its threshold as its door was being shut.” (p.81) Jim feels an affinity with Changez, instinctively feeling that both had a rather disadvantaged upbringing. Changez is eager to feel a connection with Jim so focuses on their similarities as he is acutely aware that his friendship with Jim affords him more power and opportunity. Changez’s family members try to resist their waning status and wealth, and their attempts to resist mutability affect the next generation; memory, imagination, and an inflexible desire to hold onto the past work in tandem to create a dangerous nostalgia that harms both present and future generations. It is fitting that Changez invokes homelessness when discussing his relatives gripping onto their imagined memories, for both the homeless man with the lottery ticket and Changez’s relatives with their imagined memories lose sight of both their homes and themselves. “Jim sat with his arm around the back of my chair in a way that made me feel – quite literally – as though he had taken me under his wing.” (p.81) Interestingly, Mike flirts with Erica in Greece using exactly the same gesture, though Changez seems somewhat oblivious to Jim’s romantic interest in him. “my Pakistaniness was invisible, cloaked by my suit, my expense account, and – most of all – by my companions.” (p.82) Changez’s identity is very complex indeed; he feels that his roots are being disguised by the façade created by his job at Underwood Samson. “And yet… No, I ought to pause here, for I think you will find rather unpalatable what I intend to say next, and I wish to warn you before I proceed.” (p.82) Hamid’s use of aposiopesis here again suggests that Changez’s story has been carefully planned in advance of this meeting. “the breeze seems to have disappeared entirely and, although night has fallen, it is still rather warm.” (p.82) Changez deliberate draws attention to the uncomfortable atmosphere. As the night darkens as does Changez’s narrative and the heat is mirrored in the anger that Changez’s “unpalatable” revelation will ignite in the American. “And here he comes, making such haste; one would think we were his only customers!” (p.82) The waiter seems curiously attentive and the fact that Changez draws attention to his alertness suggests that he desires to further compound the American’s feeling of disquiet. “I stared as one – and then the other – of the twin towers of New York’s World Trade Center collapsed. And then I smiled. Yes, despicable as it may sound, my initial reaction was to be remarkably pleased.” (p.83) There are myriad interpretations of this reaction and to immediately dismiss his response as “anti-American” reduces its intricacy and complexity. The events of 9/11 seem to rouse Changez from his “American Dream” and the shock of the attack forces Changez to confront his identity and thus his deep-rooted resentments are exposed. 9/11 is the catalyst for the development of Changez’s hateful (and possibly irrational) attitude towards the United States. Arguably, however, Changez’s recollection of the events of 9/11 seem somewhat calculated – on the one hand we could see his reaction as being remarkably honest – indeed, there is something innately voyeuristic about human beings, which is why when we drive past a car accident, our initial reaction is to look - however, he could also be embellishing the truth to suit his current agenda. It is interesting that Hamid chooses to have Changez witness the 17 attacks from a television screen in Manila. His distance from the tragedy mirrors the distance he will begin to feel when he returns. “I was caught up in the symbolism of it all, the fact that someone had so visibly brought America to her knees.” (p.83) Here Changez offers the reader more clarity regarding his chilling reaction to 9/11. It seems that what Changez takes pleasure in is the “class bully” so to speak, being punished rather than the massacre of thousands of people. Arguably also, Hamid italicises the word “symbolism” in order to draw our attention to the importance of symbolic language in the novel as a whole. “But surely you cannot be completely innocent of such feelings yourself. Do you feel no joy at the video clips – so prevalent these days – of American munitions laying waste the structures of your enemies.” (p.84) Here Changez’s comparison seeks to expose American hypocrisy. “I was not at war with America. Far from it: I was the product of an American university; I was earning a lucrative American salary; I was infatuated with an American woman. So why did part of me desire to see American harmed?” (p.84) Here the phrase “I was” is repeated. It is significant that Changez speaks in the past tense suggesting that he may be at war with America now. However, this list seeks to expose Changez’s feeling of confusion at his response. “I was almost relieved to be worried for her and unable to sleep; this allowed me to share in the anxiety of my colleagues and ignore for a time my initial sense of pleasure.” (p.85) Evidently Changez is shocked and a little disgusted by his response to the footage and, when he realises that the attack could have harmed someone for whom he cares, he is able to feel the impact of the attack. “At the airport, I was escorted by armed guards into a room where I was made to strip down to my boxer shorts” (p.85) Things change immediately; Changez is subjected to suspicion and humiliation. Changez’s adopted country has become hostile to him and Changez cannot use his Underwood Samson business card or his politeness and charm to escape detainment. “My entrance elicited looks of concern from many of my fellow passengers. I flew to New York uncomfortable in my own face; I was aware of being under suspicion, I felt guilty” (p.85) Changez is on the receiving end of overt prejudice which profoundly affects him despite racism and Islamophobia being an inevitable repercussion of the 9/11 attacks. Changez’s sense of belonging is transformed overnight, an indication that so-called civilised society is constructed on very fragile pillars. “They joined the queue for American citizens; I joined the one for foreigners… My team did not wait for me.” (p.85-86) Immediately Changez experiences isolation. This statement gives the novel a sense of authenticity and credibility as security was heightened at airports in the aftermath of the attacks and many individuals were subjected to racism and humiliation. “Your tone is curt; I can see that I have offended you, angered you even. But I have not, I suspect, entirely surprised you. Do you deny it? No? And that is not of inconsiderable interest to me, for we have not met before and yet you seem to know at least something about me.” (p.86) Here the conflict between the two becomes more direct and Changez makes it clear that this meeting has not taken place by chance. The reader’s curiosity as to the identity of the American is once again reignited. 18 “Night is deepening around us, and despite the lights above this market, your face it mostly in shadow.” (p.87) The framing device of the night falling further augments the tension and the sense of threat deepens. Chapter Six: “your demeanor all but precludes the possibility that you are a tourist wandering aimlessly through this part of the world.” (p.88) Yet again Changez makes deductions based on his own ingrained prejudices and stereotypes. “Nothing escapes you; your senses are as acute as those of a fox in the wild.” (p.88) Another predator/prey metaphor appears here which augments the growing sense of threat. “It is remarkable indeed how we human beings are capable of delighting in the mating call of a flower while we are surrounded by the charred carcasses of our fellow animals – but then we are remarkable creatures.” (p.88-89) Here Changez focuses on the sensory drawing links between love and death. The use of the plural, personal pronoun “we” forces the reader to consider the human condition in general binding Changez and the American together. “New York was in mourning after the destruction of the World Trade Center, and floral motifs figured prominently in the shrines to the dead and the missing that had sprung up in my absence… They reminded me of my own uncharitable – indeed, inhumane – response to the tragedy, and I felt from them a constant murmur of reproach.” (p.89-90) America’s collective grief affects Changez profoundly and he feels increasingly torn between both cultures: his reaction was one of political celebration, but the humane side of him elicits a feeling of guilt. “Your country’s flag invaded New York after the attacks; it was everywhere.” (p.90) The possessive determiner “your” is indicative of Changez becoming increasingly conscious of his status as a guest in America and the military verb “invaded” is highly suggestive of the global repercussions. “We are America – not New York, which, in my opinion, means something quite different – the mightiest civilization the world has ever known; you have slighted us; beware our wrath.” (p.90) Changez observes New York’s renewed emphasis on patriotism and senses danger; America is eager for revenge. “Gazing up at the soaring towers of the city, I wondered what manner of host would sally forth from so grand a castle.” (p.90) This is the language of imperial conquest and echoes Bush’s declaration for a “war on terror”. The word “host” has layers of meaning: firstly, the word “host” has military connotations; secondly, there is biblical imagery relating to Christianity and finally, America will cease to be a host to Changez. “A peculiar odor lingered in the air; the smoldering wreckage downtown made its way into our lungs.” (p.91) Changez frequently remembers events by his sense of smell. Hamid uses olfactory vividly to evoke the environment post 9/11. The smell that pervades the air is symbolic of the almost ubiquitous anger and suspicion towards those perceived as Muslim that engulfed America post 9/11. “Her lips were pale, as though she had not slept – or perhaps she had been crying. I thought in that moment that she looked older, more elegant; she had an element of that beauty which only age can confer upon a woman, and I imagined I was catching a glimpse of the Erica she would one day become. Truly, I thought, she is an 19 empress-in-waiting!” (p.91) 9/11 worsens Erica’s obsession with the past and America too is delving into its own idealised past in the aftermath of 9/11. It is curious that Changez refers to Erica as an “empress-in-waiting”. An empire is a number of countries brought under one ruler and therefore, allegorically, Erica and America are seen as tremendously powerful hence his attraction to her despite her grief. Once again, Changez uses apotheosis to elevate her status, despite her decline. Unlike America, Erica never falters in his eyes – in a strange way, her grief makes her more alluring. This also, perhaps, illustrates Changez’s predisposition towards an inappropriate morbid fascination which stems from his attraction to vulnerability evident in both his response to 9/11 and in his relationship with Erica. “I keep thinking of Chris… Most nights I have to take something to help me rest.” (p.92) Like America, Erica is fragile and vulnerable; America is unsettled and struggling to cope in the aftermath of 9/11. “I love it when you talk about where you come from,” she said, slipping her arm through mine, “you become so alive.” (p.93) Changez continues to play up to his exoticism by relaying stories of home. Erica feels close to Changez but continues to view him as an exotic novelty. Erica feels close to Changez, but it is a closeness borne of intrigue rather than any deep romantic feelings on her behalf. “I felt in the strength of her ongoing attachment to Chris the presence of a rival – albeit a dead one – with whom I feared I could never compete.” (p.93) Despite Changez’s determination to delude himself, it is clear that deep down he is aware of the limitations of the relationship and how unlikely it is to flourish. Chris represents happiness in Erica’s past; it is a romantic notion that she cannot suppress. Her nostalgia inhibits her from developing any meaningful relationship in the present. Erica has put Chris on a pedestal; she reveres him and consequently has forgotten any of his faults and instead merely augments her memories of him so she is rendered incapable of moving forwards. “The destruction of the World Trade Center had, as she had said, churned up old thought that had settled in the manner of sediment to the bottom of a pond; now the waters of her mind were murky with what previously had been ignored. I did not know if the same was true of me.” (p.94) Erica is often associated with water imagery and here it is clear that she is grappling with her idealised past. The concluding sentence of this paragraph also illuminates Changez’s awareness of his own deep-rooted anxieties. In allegorical terms, Changez’s obsession with America is starting to dissipate. “I was somewhat apprehensive of what she might think of the place – it was, after all, a tiny fraction of the size of her own home” (p.95) Despite Changez’s lucrative job at Underwood Samson, his wealth is no match for Erica’s “old” money. “I accompanied her to fundraisers for the victims of the World Trade Center”(p.97) This is laced with irony as Changez smiled when he saw the footage from 9/11. The reader may, at this point, feel anger towards Changez for his hypocrisy. “Erica vouched for my worthiness; my way of carrying myself – I flattered myself to believe – suggested the impeccability of my breeding; and, for those who inquired further, my Princeton degree and Underwood Samson business card were invariably sufficient to earn me a respectful nod of approval… I felt I was entering in New York the very same social class that my family was falling out of in Lahore.” (p.97) His “Princeton degree and Underwood Samson business card” are like a passport to an exclusive society. Changez is growing more distant from his roots and denying his identity. 20 “I could, without exaggeration, watch her for hours. The pride of her stance, the slender muscularity of her arms and shoulders, the failure of her garments to cloak the memory of those naked breasts I had seen in Greece: all these things filled me with desire.” (p.98) This statement is evidence of how far removed Changez has become from his cultural roots as the public sight of a woman’s flesh in Pakistan would be deemed appalling. “I would observe that she was utterly detached, lost in a world of her own. Her eyes turned inward, and remarks made by her companions would register only indirectly on her face, like the shadows of clouds gliding across the surface of a lake… she was struggling against a current that pulled her within herself, and her smile contained the fear that she might slip into her own depths, where she would be trapped, unable to breathe. I wished to serve as her anchor in these moments, without being so vulgar as to make known to her that this was a role I felt she needed someone to play.” (p.98-99) Both the simile and the water imagery here exemplify America’s stance post 9/11 as introspective and self-absorbed, underscoring both Erica’s and America’s isolation. His desire for her to reciprocate his feelings is palpable. “Her body had lost its tan and appeared almost blue in the glow of the television… She seemed otherworldly” (p.101) Changez’s description of Erica as being “otherworldly” illustrates their incompatibility and, allegorically speaking, Changez’s incompatibility with America. “I commanded myself to focus on her bruise; it was dark and angry at the top of her rib cage, bisected by the strap of her bra.” (p.102) Allegorically speaking, Erica’s bruise could symbolise the fact that America has been bruised by the events of 9/11. The fact that it is “dark and angry” could be indicative of America’s brewing retaliation. “I overlooked the growing wound this inflicted on my pride and continued… her body had rejected me.” (p.102-103) The allegorical relationship between America and Erica intensifies after their aborted attempt to make love; Changez is “rejected” by both Erica’s body and by America itself. In order to be compatible with Erica, Changez has to suppress his own identity. Here Hamid creates pathos with Changez. “But as she spoke of him her voice seemed to strengthen, and I felt her naked body soften and relax besides me. A liveliness entered her eyes; they ceased to be turned inward… I entertained her with anecdotes of Lahore for what seemed like hours.” (p.104) Their connection is merely based on Changez’s stories of Lahore and her conversations about Chris. “We fell asleep like that, not in one another’s arms, but shoulder to shoulder, with our knuckles touching at our sides.” (p.105) The closer Changez gets to Erica, the further apart he feels. Their sleeping position embodies this paradox. “I will interpret that movement of your head as a response in the negative.” This is a rather peculiar phrase and seems to have military undertones. Is Changez communicating with someone else as well? “But tonight, as I think we both understand, is a night of some importance.” (p.105) The word “importance” is italicised once again suggesting that Changez knows why the American is in Lahore. 21 Chapter Seven: “I wonder now, sir, whether I believed at all in the firmness of the foundations of the new life I was attempting to construct for myself in New York… I prevented myself as much as was possible from making the obvious connection between the crumbling of the world around me and the impending destruction of my personal American dream. The power of my blinders shocks me, looking back – so stark in retrospect were the portents of coming disaster in the news, on the streets, and in the state of the woman with whom I had become enamored.” (p.106) Changez reflects on his naivety: clearly he seems to think he may have been deluding himself, however, Changez is initially desperate to retain his residency in America. Words and phrases such as “firmness of the foundations”, “construct” and “crumbling” are reminiscent of the falling towers. “America was gripped by a growing and self-righteous rage in those weeks of September and October as I cavorted about with Erica; the mighty host I had expected of your country was duly raised and dispatched – but homeward, towards my family in Pakistan.” (p.106-107) Again there is a dual meaning for the word “host” – America has ceased to be a host to Changez and has unleashed a host of attacks. The military metaphor adds to the growing tension in the novel. “I found reassurance in my father’s views, and I dressed myself in them as though they were my own.” (p.107) Here the clothing metaphor illuminates the fact that Changez is deceiving himself and is not yet ready to accept the inevitable changes that are enveloping society. “I ignored as best I could the rumors I overheard at the Pak-Punjab Deli: Pakistani cabdrivers were being beaten to within an inch of their lives; the FBI was raiding mosques, shops and even people’s houses; Muslim men were disappearing, perhaps into shadow detention centers for questioning or worse… those rare cases of abuse that regrettably did transpire were unlikely ever to affect me because such things invariably happened… to the hapless poor, not to Princeton graduates earning eighty thousand dollars a year.” (p.107-108) Changez continues to be optimistic about his relationship with the US but he seems selfish and narcissistic. He feels he is fundamentally different to other men and women who were persecuted in a climate of ethnic tension merely because of his economic superiority. “Thus clad in my armor of denial I was able to focus – with continuing and noteworthy success – on my job.” (p.108) This military metaphor further exemplifies Changez’s self-delusion. “The firm… had been hit hard by the decline in investor sentiment surrounding the technology sector in general… it was barely able to service its debts and had become a prime candidate for acquisition.” (p.108) This business model is remarkably applicable to America’s foreign policy. America funds/invests in other countries for its own gain. However, their might and strength is fostering resentment as the reception Underwood Samson received is described as “frosty”. “Time only moves in one direction. Remember that. Things always change.” (p.109) This is significant advice given America’s obsession with the past. Individual’s views of self are tied inexorably to social forces and structures and this advice from Jim somewhat foreshadows the changes that Changez undergoes. 22 “There was an almost ritualistic quality to his movements, like a batsman – or even, I would say, a knight – donning his gloves before striding onto a field of conquest.” (p.110) The knight simile builds upon the language of battle and conflict which Hamid has frequently used to intensity the allegory of Underwood Samson representing the US. “The economy’s an animal… It evolves. First it needed muscle, Now all the blood it could spare was rushing to its brain. That’s where I wanted to be. In finance… We came from places that were wasting away… Power comes from becoming change.” (p.110) Once again we see Jim seeking to find a connection with Changez. Here he demonstrates an aggressively ambitious attitude of visionary capitalism. “I had chosen a field of endeavour that would be of ever-greater importance to humanity and would be likely, therefore, to provide me with ever-increasing returns.” (p.111) There seems to be an increasingly irreconcilable conflict within Changez. He instinctively sympathises with the poor and besieged, yet he is working for Underwood Samson, allying himself with the forces of ruthlessly aggressive capitalism. There are clear parallels with America’s relationship with the Islamic world. Changez believes he is doing something for humanity and then subsequently relishes the thought of his own personal gain. “You’re working for the man, buddy. Didn’t anyone tell you that at orientation?” (p.112) A distance seems to beginning to grow between Wainwright and Changez who initially bonded because of their shared outsider status. The hospitality extended to Changez by America is entirely contingent on his agreeing to dedicate himself to ensuring his host nation’s financial security. Unlike Wainwright, he struggles to maintain a moral ambivalence to the company. “Focus on the fundamentals.” (p.112) Here the reader is forced to address the duality of the title and consequently our own prejudices. We associate fundamentalism with religious extremists, however, Changez becomes increasingly “reluctant” to “focus on the fundamentals” of his job at Underwood Samson. The company has adopted a mentality of myopic avarice and predation on weaker organisations. Changez begins to withdraw from the cocoon of his career. “I had been avoiding the evening news, preferring not to watch the partisan and sports-event-like coverage given to the mismatch between the American bombers with their twenty-first century weaponry and the ill-equipped and ill-fed Afghan tribesmen below.” (p.113) Changez is further alienated by the ‘partisan and sports-event-like coverage’ of the repercussions of 9/11 and he sees that the media are distorting the truth to reinforce patriotism. “Afghanistan was Pakistan’s neighbor, our friend, and a fellow Muslim nation besides, and the sight of what I took to be the beginning of its invasion by your countrymen caused me to tremble with fury.” (p.113-114) Changez has a visceral reaction to the footage he is witnessing, not an intellectual or rational one. The possessive pronouns “our” and “your” further emphasise his now divided identity. “My fury had ebbed, but much though I wished to pretend I had imagined it entirely, I was no longer capable of so thorough a self-deception… I remained aware of the embers glowing within me, and that day I found it difficult to concentrate on the pursuit – at which I was normally so capable – of fundamentals.” (p.114) The “embers” are a metaphor for his festering resentment. It is clear that Changez’s anger will lead him towards a spiral of decline. Changez is unable to disentangle cosmopolitan New York with the jingoism and imperial vanity he associates with the American wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. 23 “Did you hear that, sir, a muffled growl, as if of a young lion held captive in a gunnysack?” (p.114) Yet another threatening and predatory image appears here – Changez seems to take pleasure from the stranger’s unease. “You would rather wait, you say, and eat upon your return to your hotel? But I insist! You must not pass up such an authentic introduction to Lahori cuisine; it will, given the dishes for which this market is justifiably renowned, be a purely carnivorous feast – one that harks back to an era before man’s knowledge of cholesterol made him fearful of his prey – and all the more delectable for it. ” (p.114) Changez’s insistence that the stranger stay for dinner is somewhat aggressive. Words such as “carnivorous” and “prey” imbue Changez’s offer of dinner with a sense of danger. “We Pakistanis tend to take an inordinate pride in our food. Here in Old Anarkali that pride is visible in the purity of the fare on offer; not one of these worthy restaurateurs would consider placing a western dish on his menu. No, we are surrounded instead by the kebab of mutton, the tikka of chicken, the stewed food of goat, the spiced brain of sheep! These, sir, are predatory delicacies, delicacies imbued with a hint of luxury, of wanton abandon. Not for us the vegetarian recipes one finds across the border to the east, nor the sanitized, sterilized, processed meats so common in your homeland! Here we are not squeamish when it comes to facing the consequences of our desire.” (p.115) Once again Changez’s comments seem calculated to aggravate the American’s unease. By highlighting the cultural differences between the two countries, Changez is reminding the American that they are in Changez’s homeland. Threat permeates this seemingly simple description of Pakistani cuisine with phrases such as “predatory delicacies” and the word is italicised to reinforce the sinister undertone to Changez’s words. Furthermore, the phrase “we are not squeamish when it comes to facing the consequences of our desire” arguably has terrorist undertones. “We built the Royal Mosque and the Shalimar Gardens in this city, and we built the Lahore Fort with its mighty walls and wide ramp for our battle-elephants. And we did these things when your country was still a collection of thirteen small colonies, gnawing away at the edge of a continent.” (p.116) Changez continually criticises America for its lack of culture and waxes lyrical about Pakistan’s rich cultural history. The italicised and repeated ‘we’ reveals the bitterness that lurks behind Changez’s polite and intelligent demeanour; Changez invokes an ancient glory in order to recuperate Pakistan in its present position. Here, he is clearly showing his affiliation to Pakistan. “At the counter was a diminished Erica, not the vivid, confident woman I knew but a pale, nervous creature who could almost have been a stranger... I considered giving her an embrace but decided against it; she seemed too brittle to be touched.” (p.117) Erica’s appearance and state of mind seems to have deteriorated further. Her frailty is emphasised and her physical degeneration is indicative of her deep-rooted psychological problems. “I had over the past weeks… been indulging in daydreams of life as Erica’s husband; now I found not just those daydreams but the woman herself vanishing before my eyes… I was desperate to extricate her from the maze of her psychosis.” (p.119) Allegorically, Changez’s American Dream is swiftly vanishing. To him, America is not the same country it was before and he is desperate to restore things to how they formerly were. “I knew she enjoyed my stories of Pakistan, so I rambled on about my family and Lahore.” (p.119) Unsure of what else to say, Changez rapidly takes up his accustomed role as an exotic friend in a bid to form a connection with Erica. 24 “Then pretend,” I said, “pretend I am him.” (p.119) Allegorically, the suggestion here is that only by surrendering his identity and assuming the persona of a white, Christian American, can Changez be adopted by America; Changez obliterates his past identity in order to gain Erica’s acceptance. “Her body denied me no longer; I watched her shut eyes, and her shut eyes watched him… it reminded me – unwillingly – of a wound, giving our sex a violent undertone despite the gentleness with which I attempted to move.” (p.120) There is strange element of fantasy in this description. There seems to be a violent aspect in his perception of events. “She shuddered towards the end – grievously, almost mortally” (p.120-121) The word “mortally” is interesting here, especially given her death later in the novel. Erica’s identity is indelibly intertwined with Chris and thus, as she is adrift from her moorings of identity, stability is utterly impossible. Changez attempt to provide stability by suppressing his own identity is futile. “You’re a kind person” (p.121) For many readers, this scene is very disturbing. It seems morally corrupt as Erica is evidently so vulnerable and does not want to go home with him. Changez has exhibited impeccable manners in his interactions with Erica until this point. Many readers are left confused by Erica’s declaration that Changez is a “kind person” as here his actions seem selfish and lustful. “I felt at one both satiated and ashamed… Perhaps, by taking on the persona of another, I had diminished myself in my own eyes” (p.121) Changez feels shame because he has surrendered his Pakistani identity because of his lust for Erica. “I could not have known what would happen to her over the weeks and months to follow.” (p.121) Here Hamid uses foreshadowing to create a sense of apprehension and anxiety. Chapter Eight: “I observe, sir, that there continues to be something about our waiter that puts you ill at ease… his tribe merely spans both sides of our border with neighboring Afghanistan, and has suffered during offensives conducted by your countrymen.” (p.123) The Battle of Tora Bora was a military engagement that took place in Afghanistan from 6th December 2001 to 17th December 2001, during the opening stages of the War in Afghanistan launched by the United States following the September 11 attacks. The U.S. and its allies believed that Osama bin Laden, the founder of al-Qaeda, was hiding in the mountains at Tora Bora. A number of al-Qaeda training camps were based nearby and therefore once again, Changez’s comment seems deliberately calculated to create unease. This is heightened by the accusatory tone of the personal possessive pronoun “your”. “Is he praying, you ask? No, sir, not at all!” (p.123) The fact that the stranger cannot understand what the waiter is saying reinforces his isolation in Lahore. “I could translate for you but perhaps it would be better if I selected a number of delicacies for us to share. You will grant me that honor? Thank you. There, it is done, and off he goes.” (p.124) Here Changez is assuming control and attempting to divert the American’s attention from the waiter. The American’s acceptance of Changez’s hospitality seems to be tempered with a subtext of suspicion. “she consented to my request that we meet.” (p.124) Hamid’s use of the word “consented” feels a little uncomfortable – at this point the reader, like the American, might be feeling “a 25 degree of revulsion” (p.122) towards Changez. Given that Changez has to “pretend” to be Chris in order to be intimate with Erica, it could reasonably be argued that Erica consented to have sex with Chris and not Changez. “What she needs right now is stability. No emotional upheavals, you get me?” (p.125) Erica’s mother wants stability for her daughter; however, this seems to be the exact opposite of what Erica needs. By ensuring there are “no emotional upheavals”, her nostalgia is allowed to fester causing her to disintegrate further. This will eventually prevent her from living life in the present moment. “She told me about her doctor and her medication, how the drugs made it difficult to concentrate and so her days seemed to slip away with nothing to show for them.” (p.126) Both her mother’s advice regarding a remedy and the medication seem to be counterproductive. “I used to turn to it, my writing, when I needed to get something out that was stuck inside. But I can’t get it out now. It pulls me in, you know?” (p.127) Historically, Erica found writing cathartic; her writing acted as a cleansing process – a purging of negative emotions. However, because the medication makes concentration difficult, writing is no longer a welcome tonic. Instead, Erica’s attempts to write have not only been unsuccessful, they have also resulted in her becoming increasingly introspective. As much as her writing used to be cathartic, it has developed into an abyss of her imagination, swallowing her whole; relentlessly consuming her fragile mind. “I watched our skin – mine healthy and brown, hers sickly white – separated by a distance not greater than the width of an engagement ring, but she did not notice me.” (p.127) The engagement ring image is indicative of his desperation for permanence in their relationship. “she was merely bringing to an end my intrusion on a conversation Erica was having with Chris – a conversation occurring on some plane that I could not reach or even properly see.” (p.128) Changez has been rendered peripheral by Erica’s “chronic nostalgia”. The presence of Chris, allegorically, suggests that in the wake of 9/11, America was not willing to be a multi-cultural society as they subsequently embraced Christian values resulting in any non-Christians feeling isolated. “I never came to know what triggered her decline – was it the trauma of the attack on her city? the act of sending out her book in search of publication? the echoes raised in her by our lovemaking? all of these things? none of them? – but I think I knew even then that she was disappearing into a powerful nostalgia, one from which only she could choose whether or not to return.” (p.129) Here the interrogative structure is used to capture Changez’s feelings about Erica and this reflects his own confusion and uncertainty about their relationship. The use of the personal pronoun “her” in the phrase “her city” suggests that Changez feels isolated and unwelcome. Initially he was “immediately a New Yorker” (p.37) but now feels detached and alone. “Perhaps the reality of their time together was as wonderful as she had, on more than one occasion, described to me. Or perhaps theirs was a past all the more potent for its being imaginary. I did not know whether I believed in the truth of their love; it was, after all, a religion that would not accept me as a convert. But I knew that she believed in it, and I felt small for being able to offer her nothing of comparable splendor instead.” (p.129) The repetition of “perhaps” here emphasises Changez’s inner turmoil. He is grappling with unanswerable questions. The words “religion” and “convert” divert us to the allegorical 26 implications here – Changez feels helpless, isolated and unwelcome in both his relationship with Erica and in America as a country. “Still, I remained concerned for Erica’s well-being – and remained also in the grip of a certain, probably irrational, hope – so the ongoing task of abstaining from communication was a struggle not unlike that of a man attempting to rid himself of an addiction.” (p.130) In retrospect, Changez feels that his hope was futile. The use of italics further underscores his desperation. The comparison to a drug addict here is interesting and is indicative of the intensity of his feelings for Erica. “Possibly this was due to my state of mind, but it seemed to me that America, too, was increasingly giving itself over to a dangerous nostalgia at that time. There was something undeniably retro about the flags and uniforms, about generals addressing cameras in war rooms and newspaper headlines featuring such words as duty and honor. I had always thought of America as a nation that looked forward; for the first time I was struck by its determination to look back. Living in New York was suddenly like living in a film about the Second World War; I, a foreigner, found myself staring out at a set that ought to be viewed not in Technicolor but in grainy black and white. What your fellow countrymen longed for was unclear to me- a time of unquestioned dominance? of safety? of moral certainty? I did not know- but that they were scrambling to don the costumes of another era was apparent. I felt treacherous wondering whether that era was fictitious, and whether- if it could indeed by animated- it contained a part written for someone like me.” (p.130-131) Hamid makes the allegorical connection between Erica and America very explicit and this passage has the same interrogative structure as previously identified. Changez sees something peculiarly anachronistic about America at the time and here Changez offers a salient critique of nationalism, suggesting that it is something dangerous and toxic rather than something to unite a country in the aftermath of a national tragedy. “It occurs to me that you have been contacted with the precision of an old church bell tower, by which I mean precisely on the hour – perhaps the company is checking up on you? No, you need not answer.” (p.131) The military precision of this message combined with the American’s silence to Changez’s question suggests that his not willing to divulge who he is working for. The word “company” is deliberately threatening in its ambiguity. The word “company” also has military connotations – a “company” consists of multiple platoons. “Observe the sparks that fly from the coals, angry and red, as our cook fans the flames.” (p.132) There is, yet again, an undertone of violence and threat. It could also be argued that the reference to fire here is an echo of 9/11. “I suspect I was never better at the pursuit of fundamentals than I was at that time, analyzing data as though my life depended on it. Our creed was one which valued above all else maximum productivity, and such a creed was for me doubly reassuring because it was quantifiable – and hence knowable – in a period of great uncertainty” (p.132-133) Underwood Samson is synonymous with aggressive capitalism. Although Changez is riddled with doubts and uncertainties about his future, he is still clinging on to his career. The use of the word “creed” is interesting because of its religious connotations. “Yet even at Underwood Samson I could not entirely escape the growing importance of tribe.” (p.133) The italicised “tribe” is suggestive of a community that is hostile to others and this certainly has resonance in the aftermath of 9/11. Changez attempts to manage this period of uncertainty by approaching his work with greater ferocity than ever, however, he is increasingly aware of his status as a guest rather than a resident in America. A tragedy such as 9/11 leaves 27 indelible marks upon a group’s consciousness and thus America, whilst succumbing to the rhetoric of nostalgia, looks inwards, leaving people like Changez on the marginalised periphery. “Fucking Arab… the cold metal of its shaft rested hungrily in my hands, and I felt, at that moment, fully wielding it with sufficient violence to shatter the bones of his skull.” (p.134) Here the hostility towards Changez intensifies. The insult is profane and inaccurate which highlights the wave of prejudice and stereotyping which engulfed America post 9/11. Hamid succeeds in exposing the inflated rhetoric associated with terrorism and is drawing the reader’s attention to the injustice of the anti-Muslim profiling that ensued in the wake of 9/11. The alliteration in the phrase “hungrily in my hands” illustrates Changez’s anger; the repeated ‘h’ sound makes it seem as if he is breathing heavily from the adrenaline induced by the confrontation. Changez is no longer able to dismiss rumours of racism – this event fractures his carefully constructed mirage of self-deception. “But surely it is the gist that matters; I am, after all, telling you a history, and in history, as I suspect you – an American – will agree, it is the thrust of one’s narrative that counts, not the accuracy of one’s details. Still, I can assure you that everything I have told you thus far happened, for all intents and purposes, more or less as I have described.” (p.135) The novel grapples with the way that someone’s experiences can cause them to reinterpret their past to make it better fit with their current ideas and beliefs without realising. Arguably here Changez exposes himself as an unreliable narrator. Arguably also, the lack of identity given to this individual suggests that Changez sees all Americans as being hateful and racist. “the walls featured impressive and forceful works of art, including, I realized, a not insignificant number of male nudes.” (p.136) Again the reader is alerted to the possibility of Jim’s homosexual inclinations and consequently his romantic interest in Changez. This is, perhaps, why Jim feels like an outsider. It is interesting that the art is described as “impressive” and “forceful” as these words could easily describe Underwood Samson, or indeed Capitalist America. “shaking my head to dismiss any possibility that my loyalties could be so divided” (p.136) Changez’s divided loyalty is the root of his unhappiness. Changez is unable to reconcile his Pakistani identity with his current life in America. “I had heard tales of the discrimination Muslims were beginning to experience in the business world – stories of rescinded job offers and groundless dismissals – and I did not wish to have my position at Underwood Samson compromised.” (p.137) Changez can no longer dismiss rumours of racism by thinking that he is exempt because he is educated and comparatively wealthy. He is forced to confront the hostile post 9/11 climate. “Two of the six analysts in my entering class – those who were ranked fifth and sixth – were indeed among the employees our firm let go.” (p.138) This statement reinforces Underwood Samson’s highly competitive, ruthlessly capitalist and meritocratic values. Allegorically, this is a fairly pejorative representation of America’s political and ec