The Ghost Writer
The Ghost Writer is an astounding novel about the weight of a group identity and how it blocks a writer(s) in expressing their voice. I call it astounding because it has a lot of weight despite its 190 odd pages. Also I had no idea about Philip Roth before reading this book. Hell, I still do now know why this book was on my reading list. But, I am so immensely moved upon reading this, that I briefly considered it’s inclusion in reading list as some sort of providence. I aspire to be a writer as well and the central conflict that, I felt, was played out in the book about creating and sustaining an individual (or truthful voice) separate from a group (or community) identity is something I could relate to very strongly. And although the group identity here is specifically the Jewish, I believe anyone from a community-oriented society can relate in someway to this conflict. An artist is usually a unique individual and it’s her voice or perspective on things that creates her art. But what happens if you add the condition of being politically correct not just for your some audience but for your own family, group or community. Of weighing your every description, sentence or word so as to not cross certain lines. As an Indian myself, I believe fellow Indians can also relate to such a conflict.
Such is also the conflict, but of a different scale and magnitude, faced by Nathan Zuckerman, the narrator of this novel. He is an upcoming Jewish author who has a written a story wherein his parents feel that Jews have been shown in bad light which will reinforce the opinion non-Jews have about Jews. It is important to remember that this novel is set in the 1950s less than a decade after the end of the World War II. “People don’t read art. they read about people. And they judge them as such.” argues Nathan’s father in a very poignant scene between father and son. Additionaly, his father reaches out to a respected man in the community, a Judge Waptor, who also writes to Nathan about his responsibility as an artist towards his community and questions him, rather slanderously, I felt, on whether Goebbels will relate to his writing. Nathan is disturbed by an apparent comparison to a Nazi but adamant about the strength of his story. But with the loss of approval from his father, he now yearns instead for the approval of a “literary father figure” to feel more confident in his voice. It is this yearning that lands him at the doorstep of this idol, E.I Lonoff, a recluse, diligent Jewish writer.
The novel begins at the door step of Lonoff and is, for the most part, a narration of Nathan’s conflict and his adoration of Lonoff. We are made privy to his nervousness, his attempts to impress Lonoff, his weighing every word, his warping of stories to come out sophiscated and what not. We share his joy as Lonoff does praise him off-handedly of sorts. At Lonoff’s house, his eyes fall on a young woman, also in Lonoff’s house presently, whose beauty and delicate features immediately enamour him and he begins a mental quest to know more about her. Turns out the young mysterious woman, called Amy, also yearns for something similar as Nathan.
Ghost Writer is quite an engaging read upto this point with Nathan’s narration about his conflict and his adoration being engaging and witty. But it is the chapter called Femme Fatale where the book takes a sudden poignant turn when Nathan actually addresses the comparison against Goebbels. Fueled by the praise from his “high priest” Lonoff, Zuckerman(or Roth) conjures up a great narrative juxtaposing his respect for Lonoff, and his passion for Amy, with a historical Jewish figure in such intense, realistic and touching fashion that it brings the dilemma he is facing to a very different level. If someone can accuse him of siding with Goebbels based on his story, then Zuckerman can also overreach and pull another historical figure to his support. And if you were not too entirely convinced of the weight of his dilemma, or if it was not a dilemma to you, this chapter would maybe question yourself again. But is Zuckerman’s dilemma solved? Does Lonoff prove to be the “literary father figure” he yearns for and guides him? Read it to know. The book is well worth to read for Femme Fatale chapter alone. But the words that Zuckerman saw on a note on Lonoff’s desk have also stuck in my mind and, in my opinion, sums up the book nicely . From Henry James’s “The Middle Years”:
We work in the dark — we do what we can — we give what we have. Our doubt is our passion and our passion is our task. Rest is the madness of the art
