A Bend In The River

“Africa was my home, had been the home of my family for centuries.”

This opening line of Chapter 2 introduces the reader to the theme of home and belonging, a thread that figures largely throughout the novel. Notably, the next sentence begins with the word “but,” alerting us that Salim has no certain home. Every place Salim lives is only a partial home for him, no matter, it seems the circumstances or the actions he takes.

“Miscerique probat populous et foedera jungi.”

This is the motto on the ruined monument by the town’s dock. Salim doesn’t know the meaning of the ancient words, which translate as “He approves of the mingling of the peoples and their bonds of union.” It is the old motto of Trinidad, where V.S. Naipaul was born, and dates from the Romans settling Africa. When Salim learns the meaning of the words, he feels they represent a curse more than a blessing—that it was hubris to use ancient Roman words to celebrate steamer service that’s only 60 years old.

“Semper Aliquid Novi.”

This is the motto of the school in the town, and comes from a quote by Pliny, “Ex Africa, semper aliquid novi” which means, “From Africa, always something new.” This phrase relates to the important role of new ideas in the Africa of the novel. It sets us up to understand the deep significance of the new president, the Domain, and Raymond’s writings, the last of which embody the old, colonial ideas. The play between the old and new is the undercurrent of all the societal change and uprising in the novel.

“To talk of trouble was to pretend there were laws and regulations that everyone could acknowledge. Here there was nothing.”

Salim’s reflection about the lack of consistency of order reminds the reader that within each subculture in and around the town, there are different standards of behavior and judgment. It raises the question of how one decides what behavior is acceptable and what is not. Instead of relying on external factors such as laws, the people in this culture must be their own arbiters of correct behavior.

“That was strange that a Christian priest should have had such regard for African beliefs, to which on the coast we had paid no attention.”

Once again, the reader sees an appreciation for new ideas and discoveries in Africa by an outsider. Salim notes, however, that while Father Huismans cares about the art and artifacts of the area, he “seemed indifferent to the state of the country” (62). Salim concludes that the priest’s concerns run above the daily concerns of ordinary men, but the argument could be made that Father Huisman’s attitude is that of a plunderer, someone who takes valued objects from their native environment to collect them. Thus, while Salim feels the priest’s interest is in the new, he clearly represents the old order of colonialism, or alternately, that theology functions under a different set of rules.

“What do you do? You live here, and you ask that? You do what we all do. You carry on.”

This comment from Mahesh, which surprises Salim, speaks to the theme of persistence. Naipaul explores the question of societal elements after colonialism: what bubbles up, what behaviors repeat, and what, if anything, remains constant. Salim, in his own mind, is as changeable in his attitudes as his surroundings. He seems to see multiple sides of an event at once. Even as he forges ahead with his life, he feels he should move on. He is deeply restless and discontented, like the place he has chosen to live. Ultimately, Salim is unable to resolve the question of how to stay put and carry on.

“I didn’t want anybody to win; I wanted the old balance to be maintained.”

Here, we see Salim’s desire for safety and for the comfort of the consistency that is unobtainable both in his environment and in himself. He is unwilling to take sides between opposing forces, just as he resists choosing a single internal point of view.

“And even if terrible things happened to them they would die with the comfort of knowing that their ancestors were gazing down approvingly at them.”

Salim seems to be saying here that even if those native to the region suffer, they do so as natives, as locals, which benefits them. They suffer in a manner similar to how their ancestors have suffered, and there is a kind of morbid satisfaction to that.

“It isn’t that there’s no right and wrong here. There’s no right.”

This statement reflects Mahesh’s reasoning for engaging in illegal moneymaking schemes, and reflects the every-man-for-himself strategy for survival necessary in the town. Salim is uncomfortable with this amoral philosophy, although he becomes a smuggler himself toward the end of the novel. Coping with this worldview conflicts with Salim’s desire for the old order and serves to ramp up his internal tension. Naipaul is setting Salim up to experience increasing levels of internal unease as the novel moves along.

“In the town ‘African’ could be a word of abuse or disregard; in the Domain it was a bigger word.”

This quote reflects the dichotomy between the old and the new, between those who represent the native ways and those bringing new ideas and leadership. The latter promises importance to those who, until recently, lived under foreign rule. This thread of new ideas winds through the novel as a question rather than as a statement: What will remain and what will be replaced? Will the rise of these new ideas for Africa represent a new form of colonialism, one not of government, but of ideas? 

“[Indar] said that he had learned to trample on the past. In the beginning it had been like trampling on a garden; later it had become like walking on ground.”

Will the town prosper by destroying its colonial past? How far into the past would one need to trample in order to lay a clear path for something new? Is it ever possible to eliminate one’s own history? These are some of the questions Naipaul raises about progress, both cultural and personal.

“The people now have peace. They want something else. So they no longer see a photograph of a soldier. They see a photograph of an African. And that isn’t a picture of me, Raymond. It is a picture of all Africans.”

This reflects the theme of art and image in the novel, in particular the power of images to create a new reality. The new portrait of the president can be contrasted to the masks and statuettes collected by Father Huismans in the bush villages as an example of the new and the old. It is clear from the tension and violence that continues to erupt that the two elements cannot easily coexist.

“I hadn’t understood to what extent our civilization had also been our prison.”

Here, Naipaul presents the idea that a person cannot overcome the power of place and circumstance. This would seem to go against the novel’s opening line; however, one has to allow themselves to believe this in order for it to be true.

“The steamer was now meant for the people who used it, and to them it was very grand.”

The steamer is a symbol of upward mobility and freedom that is now accessible to the people. It also symbolizes the movement from the old to the new, and the fluidity of ideas. People arrive by steamer and escape by it, people clear its way to the dock and also try to rob it. It functions as civilization’s connection to the river itself, which is of nature, and separate from humans as it is timeless.

“We had all become his people; even here at the Tivoli we were reminded that we all in various ways depended on him.”

This is meaningful because the Tivoli is a new restaurant in the town that is designed specifically for European customers. African customers go elsewhere to eat, yet the presence of the presidential portrait, three feet high, is the most notable thing about it.

“You live your life. A stranger appears. He is an encumbrance. You don’t need him. But the encumbrance can become a habit.”

This statement reflects colonialism and the relationship between European and African elements. It relates to the idea of power, and raises the question of who or what is an encumbrance to whom and how that becomes habitually accepted. This statement of Yvette’s is reiterated several times in the novel, underscoring its importance.

“The very people who had said that the decade was the decade of Africa, and had scrambled after its great men, were now giving up on Africa.”

As Africa is returned to Africans it becomes less interesting to Europeans who wanted to be associated with its powerful thinkers and leaders. This relates to Naipaul’s theme of old versus new.

“The certainty of the end–even while the boom slackened and my fifteen dropped to fourteen, and Nazruddin and his uprooted family tried to establish themselves in Canada—was my security.”

Envisioning the end while still in the middle of a situation is one of Salim’s important character traits. He forecasts his future rather than acting decisively to bring about a desired outcome. Once he realizes his isolation is necessary to him, he knows it is inevitable he will break from Yvette. He requires nothing of himself but to let the inevitable occur.

“Men lived to acquire experience; the quality of the experience was immaterial; pleasure and pain–and above all, pain–had no meaning; to possess pain was as meaningless as to chase pleasure.”

This statement, which approaches nihilism, confirms Salim’s conviction that his role in life is to experience whatever life puts in his path, bad or good. There is little meaning in the experiences themselves; therefore, there is no need to take sides or to decide on a path of right action.

“That was the mood in which I left London and Kareisha, to go back to Africa, to wind up there, realise as much as I could of what I had. And make a fresh start somewhere else.”

Salim is energized by his realization that there is no going back to a past way of life. It is the moment he decides to take real action to get his life going in another direction. This is a climactic moment in the novel for the theme of old versus new. 

“That’s how the Big Man gets them. He gives and he takes back.”

This is an expression of power and control, although at this late stage in the novel it isn’t an artistic image that conveys power but a direct statement from the president speaking to the people. The power has come closer to the town and will come closer still at the end of the novel as the town anticipates a visit from the Big Man, who will take back whatever he needs whenever he likes. 

“The bush was at war; the town was in a state of insurrection, with nightly incidents. But suddenly in the centre it seemed like carnival time.”

Naipaul uses the word “carnival” to signify both a holiday atmosphere and a violent free-for-all. The townspeople may be sprucing up the town for the President’s visit, but the violence that bubbles under the surface may explode at any time. 

“How long would it take to work back from that, through all the accumulated lies, to what was simple and true?”

Salim sees a portrait of the president that looks worn. In the balance of old versus new, the lines begin to blur. This also relates to Salim’s ideas about ridding himself completely of the past to forge a clear trail, which may not be possible when right and wrong have no meaning.