The Quiet American is
a 1955 novel by Graham Greene. It was something I had long intended to read,
and in Venice a few months ago I found the novel in a hostel. However, I was
reading another book and didn’t finish in time to swap it. Later, travelling through Eastern Europe I was reading books by Paul Theroux, and he often makes reference to Greene, so my interested grew further. Last week, I saw the book was on Kindle and downloaded it. I was not disappointed.
The book is set in Vietnam during the final years of French
colonialism. The events in the book could be described as allegorical, I
suppose, although they are partially prophetic. They concern three main
characters: Thomas Fowler, a British journalist; Alden Pyle, the “quiet
American” who appears to be working for the US government, and perhaps the OSS;
and Phuong, a Vietnamese woman whom both men love.
The book is told in the first person perspective by Fowler,
who is a cynical old man – although I don’t recall his age ever being given. He
is separated from his English wife and living with his Vietnamese girlfriend,
but his wife won’t divorce him. When Pyle arrives, Fowler takes a strong dislike
to him, and that dislike grows as Pyle announces he is in love with Phuong.
Pyle is pleasant, education, and naïve. He has read a great
deal about Indo-China (mostly by an author called York Harding), but he has no
real experience. Despite this, he assumes he knows what’s best for the region,
and is engaged in attempting to find a “third force” to run Vietnam once they
have kicked out the French. He represents the American attitude towards the
post-colonial world: that between colonialism and communism there must be some
third option. While this is logical, the ill-formed American causes death and
pain, just like his country would do in the decades following this book.
The book is based upon Greene’s own experiences in
Indo-China during that period, and apparently based upon a conversation with an
American much like Pyle. The insights into colonial era governances and
post-colonial American attitudes are fascinating, but I was particularly taken
by his perspective on war. Fowler is against the war, yet trapped in it. There
are countless poignant lines about death in the book, and some excellent, vivid
scenes portraying the horrors of war. One that stuck with me was:
· …we didn’t want to be reminded of how little we counted, how quickly, simply and anonymously death came.
He also describes the normality of life against the backdrop
of war with beautiful little details:
· … it seemed impossible to me that I could ever have a life again, away from the rue Gambetta and the rue Catinat, the flat taste of vermouth cassis, the homely click of dice, and the gunfire travelling like a clock-hand around the horizon.
Finally, although one gets the feeling that the characters
exist more as allegorical constructs than anything else, at least Fowler’s
feelings come across as real. When Phuong leaves him for Pyle, he says:
· I began to plan the life I had still somehow to live and to remember the memories in order somehow to eliminate them. Happy memories are the worst, and I tried to remember the unhappy. I was practiced. I had lived all this before. I knew I could do what was necessary, but I was so much older – I felt I had little energy left to reconstruct.
I will look out more books by Graham Greene…
