Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Greene's Masterwork


I am on my third read now of The Quiet American, so I've used this time to think more carefully how the novel is plotted. I'm trying to open up this tightly wound clock and see how it ticks.

Three of the four "parts" of the novel begin with Fowler after the death of Pyle; Phuong has returned to our narrator, and he appears to have stumbled upon the life he only dreamed of. However, with each interrogation of Fowler by the French detective Vigot, we see that Folwer is actually racked by guilt and even grief for his still-mysterious role in Pyle's death. Once Greene establishes the opening interrogation scene, each part of the novel skips back to the development of his relationship with Pyle. The tension of the relationship -- a tension between two world powers, between bleary cynicism and quixotic idealism, between old and young -- catalyzes the central shift of Fowler.

Pico Iyer said, of The Quiet American, "[The novel] is much more about the difficult, treacherous love between the two male rivals than about the love either feels for Phuong." While I agree wholeheartedly with this notion, I'd add on to this that it is even more about the change in Fowler, which results from Pyle's meddling, than it about this relamtionship between the two. Fowler avows his disengagement repeatedly in the novel, but as Mr. Heng says, "one must get involved to be human."

Unlike The Heart of the Matter, there is no excess of emotion here, no prolonging of the protagonist's suffering. Like Scobie, Fowler might be comprised of 'two halves' -- his commitment to his neutrality eventually clashes with his hatred of violence -- but rather than retreating into the pain of his contradiction, Fowler goes out and acts on it. That is, he seeks more and more dangerous assignments and relationships as a means of distracting himself from his own pain.

This means, for the reader, that we get to experience several scenes of suspense and intrigue: strange parades, abandoned military posts, haunted spaces, vertical bombings. The novel's most important moments are episodic -- there is far less fixity of place and conflict from what we are used to in Greene -- yet this, perhaps paradoxically, seems to grant the novel a greater power.

All this is to say that the novel moves in such an efficient and expertly plotted way that I think it might be one of Greene's best. The Power and the Glory  is a young novelist's groundbreaking work, yet The Quiet American is a novelist working at his fullest powers.

4 comments:

Dan Apadula said...

I think, when evaluating Fowler's reason for becoming involved, or engaged, in Pyle's death, the reader has to wonder if Fowler is being completely honest about his motivation. It appears, on the surface, that the car bombing instills in Fowler a real moral issue that he can only resolve by killing Pyle. However, I feel that Iyer, in the quote in this post, devalues the effect of the men’s love for Phuong in the scenario. The bombing may have been the straw that broke the camel’s back in Fowler’s mind, but nonetheless it was an event that Fowler could personally use to justify killing Pyle in order to win Phuong back. The opening line of the novel tells us that Fowler “waited for Pyle…he had said, ‘I’ll be with you at latest by ten,’ and when midnight struck I couldn’t stay quiet any longer and went down into the street.” (3). Here, Greene sets a tone for how seriously we should take Fowler’s account: that is, not too seriously. Fowler perhaps wants the reader to believe that he really has become more engaged in Vietnam, and that is why he killed Pyle. It may be the case, in reality, that he uses his apparent increased passion as a veil, shielding us from discovering the root cause: his carnal lust for Phuong.
Then again, I may be reading too much into this.

Unknown said...

Mr. Kiczek, I agree with you completely. Yet, I feel that it is important that we do not neglect Fowler's relationship with Phuong either. Like Dan said, there could be some underlying motivation behind his intervention. I would focus more on two things though: First, that we can quite clearly see Fowler's progression through his relationship with her. He disrespects her at the beginning; simplifies her. By the end, he has clearly changed: he respects her much more, and acknowledges that she is much more human, with actual feelings, and not completely indestructible. Second, his relationship with her has progressed from the physical to a bit (though I acknowledge, not overtly) emotional. Early in the novel, he characterized the relationship best by describing how he woke up with his hand between her legs. Clearly, crudely physical. Once he "loses" her to Pyle, however, he becomes incredibly emotionally distraught; it has obviously progressed. Thus, this is another excellent indicator of Fowler's development.

Michael Ippolito said...

I completely see where Pico Iyer is coming from in his review, but I actually think that the conflicted relationship between Fowler and Pyle can be viewed at three different level: their fight over Phuong, their fight between each other, and their fight over Vietnam. I think that one of the best examples of this is in the argument that the two have on page 124. Everything that they say to one another is a stab at how they think that the other views Phuong. They also go after each other’s personal beliefs and lives. And, everything they say also has a political view. I think that the best example of this is when Pyle suggests that he would want to have a decent life with Phuong and have children, to which Fowler responds: “Bright young American citizens ready to testify.” At the lowest level, he’s suggesting that Pyle does not respect Phuong and her culture. Beyond that, he’s criticizing the way that Pyle believes that children need to be brought up. Lastly, he is mocking Pyle’s culture and criticizing America (potentially about its imperialism).

Unknown said...

Paragraph 3, line 5, word 3, "relamtionship".


Moving on. I disagree with Dan and Tom. I think Fowler's motivation is almost entirely based on his views of Pyle as a threat to innocent people in Vietnam. From the start, he wants Pyle talked to, not killed. In the movie clip we watched, instead of killing him outright, Heng made an attempt to talk to him (I think it was Heng), but the dog bit someone and caused the situation to escalate.

Fowler constantly hopes they will be able to talk Pyle out of helping The, hopes Pyle will not show up, etc. It is only when Pyle says something along the lines of "nothing will get me to change...except death" (I don't have the book on me as I write this). It is at this moment that Fowler gives up any hope and desire for Pyle's survival. He thinks "I was suddenly very tired. I wanted Pyle to go away quickly and die so I could start life again."

The timing shows that, while Phuong is a consideration, since he wants to continue on with the life he had before Pyle showed up, Pyle's ideaology and actions are the main motivation.