T.C. ISTANBUL KÜLTÜR UNIVERSITY INSTITUTE OF GRADUATE STUDIES THE FUNCTIONS AND VARIETIES OF POSTCOLONIAL SATIRE IN V.S NAIPAUL’S THE MYSTIC MASSEUR, HANIF KUREISHI’S THE BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA, AND NOVIOLET BULAWAYO’S GLORY Master of Arts Thesis by Berfin Özlem ERDEN 1700003428 Department: English Language and Literature Program: English Language and Literature Supervisor: Dr. Ayşegül TURAN JULY 2024 T.C. ISTANBUL KÜLTÜR UNIVERSITY INSTITUTE OF GRADUATE STUDIES THE FUNCTIONS AND VARIETIES OF POSTCOLONIAL SATIRE IN V.S NAIPAUL’S THE MYSTIC MASSEUR, HANIF KUREISHI’S THE BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA, AND NOVIOLET BULAWAYO’S GLORY Master of Arts Thesis by Berfin Özlem ERDEN 1700003428 Department: English Language and Literature Program: English Language and Literature Supervisor: Dr. Ayşegül TURAN Members of Examining Committee: Dr. Ayşegül TURAN Prof. Dr. Işıl BAŞ DE OLIVEIRA Dr. Serhat UYURKULAK (Fenerbahçe Ünv.) JULY 2024 i PLAGIARISM I hereby declare that all information in this document has been obtained and presented in accordance with academic rules and ethical conduct. I also declare that, as required by these rules and conduct, I have fully cited and referenced all material and results that are not original to this work. Berfin Özlem ERDEN 02.07.2024 ii University : Istanbul Kültür University Institute : Institute Of Graduate Studies Department : English Language and Literature Program : English Language and Literature Supervisor : Dr. Ayşegül Turan Degree Awarded and Date : MA- July 2024 ABSTRACT THE FUNCTIONS AND VARIETIES OF POSTCOLONIAL SATIRE IN V.S NAIPAUL’S THE MYSTIC MASSEUR, HANIF KUREISHI’S THE BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA, AND NOVIOLET BULAWAYO’S GLORY Berfin Özlem ERDEN This thesis examines the various forms and functions satire fulfills in three different postcolonial novels. As a mode of writing, satire can offer unfiltered critique and take varying shapes and forms. With its openness to take different shapes or forms, satire lends itself easily to the purposes of postcolonial fiction. The various uses of satire in the chosen novels; namely V.S. Naipaul’s The Mystic Masseur, Hanif Kureishi’s The Buddha of Suburbia, and NoViolet Bulawayo’s Glory, demonstrate that postcolonial satire is often characterized by the flexibility of both postcolonial condition and satire. The satirical elements of all these novels also remove the authorial expectations of a “postcolonial author” as satire is oppositional by nature, which parallels similar resistant attributes of postcolonial writing. Consequently, using satire allows these authors to make criticisms with regards to the postcolonial realities they know, from an ironic distance. The ironic distance allows these authors to freely criticize the postcolonial realities in question. Hence, all these novels can be regarded as products of the authors’ personal reflections on these postcolonial realities. In The Mystic Masseur, Naipaul’s employment of satire enables him to show his ambivalent point of view on his homeland, Trinidad. In The Buddha of Suburbia, the satire of the novel subverts the conventional expectations of a Bildungsroman. In Glory, Bulawayo makes use of satire’s openness to capture the diverse voices of Jidada, a fictionalized version of her homeland of Zimbabwe. All these novels make critiques of these contexts through satirical ridicule, irony, parody, and exaggerations from clearly subjective perspectives. Moreover, these novels also question the performative nature of postcolonial state and identity politics. This aspect is a common thread in all three of the texts. Colonial mimicry is oftentimes similar to parody, and the novels illustrate this idea through the performative roles the characters take on. Through the analysis of the stylistic features of these novels, this thesis aims to show how the satire and the satirical elements of the chosen novels function as means to reveal the absence of truth behind these acts of performativity. iii Key Words: Satire, Postcolonial, Performativity, Colonial Mimicry, Parody, Irony, V.S. Naipaul, The Mystic Masseur, Hanif Kureishi, The Buddha of Suburbia, NoViolet Bulawayo, Glory iv Üniversite : İstanbul Kültür Üniversitesi Enstitüsü : Lisansüstü Eğitim Enstitüsü Dalı : İngiliz Dili ve Edebiyatı Programı : İngiliz Dili ve Edebiyatı Tez Danışmanı : Dr. Ayşegül Turan Tez Türü ve Tarihi : Yüksek Lisans- Temmuz 2024 ÖZET POSTKOLONYAL HİCVİN V.S. NAIPAUL’UN MİSTİK MASÖR (THE MYSTIC MASSSEUR), HANIF KUREISHI’NİN VAROŞLARIN BUDASI (THE BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA), VE NOVIOLET BULAWAYO’NUN GLORY ROMANLARINDAKİ İŞLEVLERİ VE ÇEŞİTLİLİKLERİ Berfin Özlem ERDEN Bu tez hicvin üç farklı postkolonyal romanda yerine getirdiği form ve işlevleri incelemektedir. Bir yazın türü olarak, hiciv sansürsüz eleştiri sağlayabilir ve çeşitli biçimler alabilir. Bu uyum niteliğiyle, hiciv postkolonyal kurguların amaçlarına oldukça elverişlidir. Seçilen üç romanda; bunlar V.S. Naipaul’dan Mistik Masör, Hanif Kureishi’den Varoşların Budası ve NoViolet Bulawayo’dan Glory olmak üzere, hicvin çeşitli kullanımları, postkolonyal hicvin genellikle hem hicvin hem de postkolonyal koşulların getirdiği akışkanlıkla karakterize olduğunu göstermektedir. Aynı zamanda, bu romanların hicivsel elementleri bir “postkolonyal yazar” olmanın getirdiği beklentileri de ortadan kaldırmaktadır. Hicvin doğası gereği muhalif olması postkolonyal yazındaki benzer muhalif tutumlara paralellik oluşturmaktadır. Dolayısıyla, hiciv kullanımı bu yazarların tanıdıkları postkolonyal gerçeklikler hakkında ironik bir mesafeden eleştiriler yapmalarına izin vermektedir. Bulundukları ironik uzaklık bu yazarların söz konusu postkolonyal gerçeklikleri özgürce eleştirmelerini sağlamaktadır. Bu nedenle, tüm bu romanlar yazarlarının bu postkolonyal gerçeklikler üstündeki kişisel izlenimleri olarak düşünülebilir. Mistik Masör ’de Naipaul’un hiciv kullanımı yazarın vatanı Trinidad üstüne olan çelişik bakış açısını gösterebilmesini sağlamaktadır. Varoşların Budası’nda romanın hicvi Bildungsroman’nın getirdiği klasik beklentileri yeniden yazmaktadır. Glory’de Bulawayo hicvin açıklığını kullanarak vatanı Zimbabwe’nin kurgusal versiyonu Jidada’nın çeşitli seslerini kaydetmektedir. Oldukça belirgin öznel bakış açılarıyla, tüm bu romanlar hicivsel taşlama, ironi, parodi ve mübalağalarla bu bağlamlar hakkında eleştirilerde bulunmaktadırlar. Ayrıca, bu üç metinde de postkolonyal devlet ve kimlik politikalarının performatif doğası da benzer bir nokta olarak sorgulanmaktadır. Kolonyal taklitçilik çoğu zaman parodiye benzerlik göstermektedir ve romanlar bu fikri karakterlerin üstlendiği performans gerektiren roller aracılığıyla ele almaktadır. Romanların biçimsel özelliklerinin analizi aracılığıyla, bu tez seçilen romanların hicvi ve hicivsel v elementlerinin bir araç olarak nasıl bu performatif eylemlerin arkasındaki gerçekliğin yokluğunu ortaya koyduğunu göstermeyi hedeflemektedir. Anahtar Kelimeler: Hiciv, Postkolonyal, Performatif, Kolonyal Taklitçilik, Parodi, Ironi, V.S. Naipaul, Mistik Masör, Hanif Kureishi, Varoşların Budası, NoViolet Bulawayo, Glory vi ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Firstly, I would like to express my deepest gratitude to my thesis supervisor Dr. Ayşegül Turan who has been a revered mentor and guide in my academic journey at İstanbul Kültür University since the start of my university education. I would also like to thank Prof. Dr. Işıl Baş for her endless wisdom and guidance during my education at İstanbul Kültür University. It would be amiss if I did not mention the support my family has shown me, not only throughout the process of this thesis, but also throughout my whole life. Writing this thesis would not have been possible without their patience and encouragement. Lastly, I would like to give special mention to two of my dearest friends, Elif and Özge, whose continuous friendship has helped me immensely during this process. vii TABLE OF CONTENTS PLAGIARISM .................................................................................................... i ABSTRACT ....................................................................................................... ii ÖZET ................................................................................................................. iv ACKNOWLEDGMENTS .............................................................................. vi TABLE OF CONTENTS ............................................................................... vii CHAPTER I: INTRODUCTION ..................................................................... 1 1.1 Satire: History and Definitions ........................................................ 2 1.2 The Postcolonial and the Satirical ................................................. 12 CHAPTER II: “TWO WORLDS AWAY”: THE AMBIVALENT SATIRICAL VOICE OF V.S. NAIPAUL IN THE MYSTIC MASSEUR .......................... 30 2.1 Naipaul’s Ambivalent Voice ........................................................... 30 2.2 The Satirical Workings of The Mystic Masseur ............................ 34 2.2.1 Ganesh ..................................................................................... 37 2.2.2 Ramlogan and Leela .............................................................. 54 CHAPTER III: “A FUNNY KIND OF ENGLISHMAN”: HANIF KUREISHI’S SATIRICAL TAKE ON THE BILDUNGSROMAN IN THE BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA ........................................................................................................ 62 3.1 The Buddha of Suburbia as a Postcolonial Bildungsroman ......... 63 3.2 Haroon as a Target of Satire and a Subject of Bildungsroman .. 68 3.3 Karim as the Protagonist and the Narrator of the Novel ............ 76 CHAPTER IV: “THIS IS NOT AN ANIMAL FARM”: SATIRICAL ALLEGORIES AND POLYPHONY OF NOVIOLET BULAWAYO’S GLORY ............................................................................................................................ 93 4.1 The Polyphony and Topicality of the Novel’s Satire ................... 94 4.1.1 Intertextuality and Parody ..................................................... 98 viii 4.1.2 Performativity of the Political Figures .................................. 100 4.1.3 The Topicality of the Novel .................................................... 106 4.1.4 The Polyphony of the Novel ................................................... 110 CONCLUSION ................................................................................................. 122 WORKS CITED ............................................................................................... 128 1 CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION Whether it is perceived as a genre or a mode of writing, satire has been a foundational approach in literature since antiquity. Since these ancient beginnings, satire has evolved and has given shape to many different genres of texts throughout the Western literary canon. This thesis examines how satire as a mode of writing functions as a literary device in postcolonial novels. In this regard, the three chosen postcolonial novels will be analyzed in terms of what role satire and satirical elements play in the novels. One of the most essential functions of satire is to expose a truth by ridiculing and questioning certain vices in the society. Since what one regards as a vice changes throughout history and among different sociocultural backgrounds, and even person to person; the point of view of a satirist is almost always a subjective one. However, this subjectivity can also bring some of the most authentic encapsulations of whatever sociopolitical reality the satirists present in a text. Since satire is often born out of immediate responses to the present, the satirist usually creates without necessarily filtering or censuring themselves. Thus, the satirical narrative can be an outlet for an author to express his critique of the sociopolitical conditions of his time without adhering to certain political responsibilities, which gains further implications for postcolonial authors. When all these ideas are put into a postcolonial lens, and the responsibilities of being a "postcolonial author" are considered, we can see how satire functions as a tool for the chosen authors to reveal their own personal critiques specific to the postcolonial realities they represent in their novels. Analyzing V.S. Naipaul’s The Mystic Masseur, Hanif Kureishi’s The Buddha of Suburbia, and NoViolet Bulawayo's Glory as examples of satirical postcolonial novels, the aim of this thesis is to question what role the authors’ various usages of satirical voices play in these novels. In that regard, the novels call the arbitrariness and corruptness of the politics of these colonial/postcolonial contexts into question, especially by exposing the performative nature of being a political or influential figure, or simply having to deal with the identity politics of such contexts through various usages of satirical comedy and parody. 2 1.1 Satire: History and Definitions Within Western literary canon, we encounter satire in many different shapes and forms from poems to serio-comical prose to mock epics. It is possible to see satirical elements even in texts that largely cannot be classified as satires since this mode of writing can also be used as a device that gives the reader or the audience a break of levity. Many theorists of satire have discussed this flexibility, variety, and openness of satire and it is these exact attributes that make satire as a concept so hard to define. Jonathan Greenberg, for instance, suggests that “critics and students alike have put the definitional questions to one side and simply gone ahead with the work of analysis. After all, maybe not all satires in all periods and cultures work the same way or do the same things” (12). This variety, then, is one of the key elements in understanding satire. Since satire appears in many different shapes and forms throughout Western literary history, it becomes difficult to define the shape satire itself has, if it has one. This may also be why its definitions are more inclined to call satire a mode of writing rather than a genre of its own Thus, in many of satire’s definitions, the focus is on how it functions and for what purpose it is used rather than what it is. Historically, what we do know is that satire’s origins are thought to come from ancient Rome with names such as Lucilius, Horace, Persius, and Juvenal as the first and foremost originators. According to William Scovil Anderson, while Lucilius is known as the inventor of satire, it was Horace who formalized its usage (13). Terminologically, the word “satire” is known to derive from “satura”. As Gilbert Highet explains in his book The Anatomy of Satire, “the name "satire" comes from the Latin word satura, which means primarily "full," and then comes to mean "a mixture full of different things"” (231), or as he puts it simply, “satura is variety” (Highet 237). Similarly, Dryden suggests that “this word Satura has been afterward apply'd to many other sorts of Mixtures” (“A Discourse”), and highlights the notion of satire’s association with “variety”. As Highet also notes, the origin of the word satire is often thought to be as satyr, a mythical creature known for its tendency to cause chaos, although it evidently is not so as discussed firstly by the likes of Isaac Casaubon and Dryden. As Jonathan Greenberg explains in The Cambridge Introduction to Satire, “Although the false etymology was debunked by Isaac Casaubon in 1605, the erroneous association 3 persisted because its assumptions about satiric aggression seemed logical, and early modern poets often called their verses “satyres”. (Greenberg 11). Thus, even today, the figure of satyr comes to mind because of the incidental shared attributes between the two. Apart from the definitions related to the term’s origin, satire has also been categorized in terms of its most well-known classical users as Horatian, Juvenalian, and Menippean. The first noticeable difference between these categories is perhaps the formal shapes these texts have as Horatian and Juvenalian satire is written in verse whereas Menippean satire is written in prose. In more contemporary forms of satire, because verse is often not in use, it is easier to classify them as originating from Menippean satire, which according to likes of Bakhtin, for instance, can even be seen as one of the originators of the novel. In his discussion of Menippean satire, Northrop Frye perceives these forms of satire as a genre of its own rather than a mode of writing. As a result, he has a more rigid outlook on satire that somewhat discounts its flexible merits. As opposed to Bakhtin, Frye draws a border between the novel and Menippean satire as genres and suggests that Menippean satire "differs from the novel in its characterization, which is stylized rather than naturalistic, and presents people as mouthpieces of the ideas they represent” (Frye 309). Dustin Griffin notes that these descriptions of Frye have "not proved critically useful” (32), especially because he sticks to rigid categorizations that disregard the evolvement satire has undergone, and the variety it can bring as satura. In addition to the mentioned formal differences, there are also tonal differences between these different types of satires. Dustin Griffin, for instance, suggests that Horatian satire is usually characterized by "its gentle humor" and with "a stern moralist” outlook (8), and Juvenalian satire with its “asperity, vehemence, and vigor” (11). These differences among them once again have been a topic of discussion for thinkers such as Isaac Casaubon and John Dryden. As Emmett Stinson explains: “The distinction between Horatian and Juvenalian traditions of satire became particularly important for early modern satirists, and this distinction continues to be re-inscribed in contemporary criticism of satire” (Stinson, “Satire”). For Griffin, Dryden’s “A Discourse Concerning the Original and Progress of Satire” can be regarded as “the most prominent theoretical document in the great age of English satire” (Griffin 14), and it is also quite influential 4 in the sense that “our reigning notion of satire as a moral art and as a carefully constructed and unified contrast between vice and virtue” (Griffin 15) has also taken its shape with Dryden’s presentation of satire in it. As Dryden notes the tonal differences and the effects Horatian and Juvenalian satire have on the audience; he demonstrates how whereas “Juvenal is the more delightful Author” (“A Discourse”), Horace is “somewhat the better Instructor of the two” (“A Discourse”). Hence, Dryden’s writing too exemplifies how satire can be adopted to fulfill different aims. It can provoke delight while also instructing the reader, but the satirist is not obligated to commit to one specific purpose. With its ironic and comedic workings, reading satire also evokes pleasure for the reader though for Dryden, Horace’s more instructive way of satiric writing is more preferable because Horace’s tendency towards instruction is “socially useful" (Stinson, “Satire”). Evidently, this moral obligation Dryden prescribes to the satirist is the primary concern of his definition in the essay too. He writes: Under this Unity of Theme, or Subject, is comprehended another Rule for perfecting the Design of true Satire. The Poet is bound, and that ex Officio, to give his Reader some one Precept of Moral Virtue; and to caution him against some one particular Vice or Folly: Other Virtues, subordinate to the first, may be recommended, under that Chief Head; and other Vices or Follies may be scourg'd, besides that which he principally intends. But he is chiefly to inculcate one Virtue, and insist on that. (Dryden, “A Discourse”) According to Dryden, a satirist’s main goal should be “to give his Reader some one Precept of Moral Virtue; and to caution him against some one particular Vice or Folly”; meaning that the purpose of satire is to try and teach the readers moral lessons. As he cites Pope and Swift, Greenberg similarly talks about how some eighteenth-century satirists were interested in these moral purposes: “Pope said that satire “heals with Morals what it hurts with Wit” (262), Swift that he wrote “with a moral View designed / To cure the Vices of Mankind” (634)” (qtd. in Greenberg 15). Like Dryden, Pope and Swift also express that satire can “heal with morals” and “cure the vices of mankind”. Samuel Johnson also expresses a similarly ambitious sentiment, as he puts it plainly in his famous 1755, A Dictionary of the English Language definition, with satire as “a poem in which wickedness or folly is censured”. All these definitions attribute the 5 purpose of correcting the vices among the society to satire. Thus, here we can see both the common neo-classical outlook on how to define satire and how the defining factor of satire becomes its purpose of use. When we come to more contemporary definitions of the 20th and 21st centuries, this defining factor still remains, but the definitions also get a more postmodern edge as ascribing a purpose to a mode of writing that is as varied as satire becomes even more complicated. As Greenberg puts it, "over the last half-century, waves of literary theory have challenged and complicated the old consensus. Most crucially, scholars have become more skeptical about characterizing satire as a necessarily moral mode” (15). Moreover, he then argues, “even when a moral purpose can be discovered, this purpose rarely spurs reform” (Greenberg 16). Griffin exemplifies this notion with the moral questions of Jonathan Swift’s satires and writes: No one can doubt that Gulliver's Travels and A Modest Proposal are "moral" satires. Yet it would take a confident critic to declare that we can draw from Swift's work clear conclusions and moral directives: for example, that we should all simply strive to be like Don Pedro, or that the solution to Ireland's problems is to adopt the "other expedients" that Swift pretends to dismiss. (Griffin 27) As Griffin argues since satire works through wild exaggerations, it is often not possible to take actual useful advice from them in the moral inquiries they present, or at times pretend to solve, as is the case of Swift’s A Modest Proposal. What should we make of it then if this moral purpose subscribed to this genre rarely ever comes to substantial fruition? For some contemporary theorists, the play itself, then, becomes the satirist’s purpose. Authors such as Griffin explains the rhetoric of satire as “inquiry and provocation” as well as “display and play”. As he points out, “from its beginnings satire has had an association with food and festivity, from the overflowing lanx satura, the Roman saturnalia, the symposium or philosophical dialogue, and the convivial banquet or Petronian cena to Pope's ‘feast of reason, and flow of soul’” (Griffin 84), and argues that satire can be regarded as a “play with moral ideas that do not have the same status they have in philosophical discourse; play with real people who are transformed into something else when they enter the satiric game; playful insult and invective that is 6 teasing, competitive, or even genial; and the intellectual play of irony and fantasy” (Griffin 84). Greenberg also determines a similar purpose of satire and suggests that “many elements of satire are playful: humor, wit, exaggeration. The canonical model of satire relegates play to secondary status, a means of illustrating norms. Yet the indulgence of play can just as easily be seen as satire’s real ‘purpose,’ and the moral justification or judgment as merely a “method” of launching that play” (Greenberg 20). The notion of play, then, is a prominent aim of satire and other satirical forms. However, this same notion can also create confusion in making a distinction between satire and parody as play is a prominent feature of parody too. In an interview, when he is asked to differentiate between satire and parody, Vladimir Nabokov states that “satire is a lesson, parody a game” (qtd. in Greenberg 33). Following his quotation of this same statement, Greenberg points out that “this distinction is equally delicate, since satire, as we’ve seen, is playful as well as purposeful, and the games of parody can turn out to offer lessons” (34-35). Then, if we also consider parody as a commonly used satiric style, their purposes also often combine and overlap with each other. The act of parodying itself can be regarded as a naturally satirical one from this perspective. According to Gilbert Highet, some satires are parodies. Here the satirist takes an existing work of literature which was created with a serious purpose, or a literary form in which some reputable books and poems have been written. He then makes the work, or the form, look ridiculous, by infusing it with incongruous ideas, or exaggerating its aesthetic devices; or he makes the ideas look foolish by putting them into an inappropriate form; or both. (Highet 13) From Highet’s point of view, the act of parodying, as he describes in the passage, become a satirical one when there is also a purposeful pretense of telling a truth (15). In that sense, the exaggerations and the ridicule become intentional tools to provoke not only laughter, but also to make the reader face an, often ignored, truth within the society at large. Thus, what might make a distinction between parodic and satiric play could be simply the purpose behind the act. Parody just for the sake of laughter may lack the societal criticism that is expected of satire. For the likes of Linda Hutcheon, for instance, it “is on the pragmatic, as much as the formal, level that parody today differentiates 7 itself, not only from satire, but from those traditional definitions that demand the inclusion of the intent to ridicule” (Parody 49). She suggests that whereas satire has a “corrective intent” (Parody 54), the same cannot be suggested of parody. Hutcheon sees parody’s targeting as a social and satire’s targeting as a moral function. Yet, she also affirms that these concepts often come together as “satirical parodies” or “parodical satires”, and in both of these conventions, irony is a highly used tool (Hutcheon, Parody 63). Thus, for Hutcheon, “the interaction of parody and satire is a complex one, but it is not a confused or confusing one, given their different "targets" (intra- and extramural) and their different affinities with the rhetorical trope most common to both: irony” (Parody 104), and ultimately, “parodic satire and satiric parody enable parody too to be "worldly"” (Parody 104). Then, satirical play and its moral questionings often go hand in hand, especially when parody is also added into the mix. Satire does not use play just to raise laughter, in fact, there is a common view that satire does not necessarily have to be "comedic". Satire is very purposeful in the sense that the audience is made to question the truth or reality behind the target, or, perhaps in a more postmodern sense, the absence of these ideas. In addition to this inclination of play, then, satire can also be characterized by the satirist’s desire to tell a “truth”; to expose a real problem behind the ridicule of its target. This desire can be recognized even in the oldest examples of satire. Horace writes: Of course, I will not slight my criticisms with jokes, like those who write wry witticisms, but can’t we laugh when we reveal a truth like teachers bearing treats who bribe a youth so that he’ll gobble up his ABCs? (Horace 1.1.29-33) and, “While lunchless, seek the truth with me right here. (Horace 2.2. 11). Similarly, as quoted by William Scovil Anderson, Horace states that. "I have a compulsion […] to speak out, to tell the truth with a smile" (qtd. in Anderson 5). Once again quoted by Anderson, Persius also writes "Like Midas' barber, I am bursting with the truth about mankind and must speak out" (qtd. in. Anderson 6). At the beginning of his The Sixteen Satires, Juvenal similarly suggests that “If you have the leisure/to listen and reason calmly, I will enlighten you” (Juvenal 1.20-21) and later, “What I have just propounded 8 is not rhetoric but truth;/ my performance, believe me, is taken straight from the Sibyl’s book” (8.125-26). As all these examples illustrate, the desire to express a truth is a commonly found feature in satire and has been so since its first known examples. As Greenberg explains: Satire shows us dimensions of human experience generally closed off to the higher genres – the messy functioning of the body, the ignoble desires of the soul, the hard truths about society’s corruption. Realism and satire share the functions of truth-telling and exposure, examining the world closely and unflinchingly. They authorize their representations with a claim to show things as they are; they disclose what official, sanitized accounts keep hidden. (19) Hence, the unfiltered approach satire takes toward the reality it represents can be a useful tool, especially in telling alternate truths that might face censorship. In that sense, this function of “truth-telling” shared by realism and satire can be of use when one deals with histories and realities who has dealt with censorship. Satire lends itself to this function because it aims to tell the truth, but also bears a certain sense of self-awareness too. Yet, the very notion of “truth” itself also complicates this aim. In many ways, creating an objective voice in the act of writing is impossible. What is different with satirical voices, however, is the fact that the “typical weapons of satire”, which are cited as “irony, paradox, antithesis, parody, colloquialism, anticlimax, topicality, obscenity, violence, vividness, exaggeration” (18) by Highet, usually involve a level of self- reflexivity. This self-reflexivity, then, can potentially override the misconception of truth as an objective entity. In that sense, most contemporary definitions of satire reflect satire’s complicated relationship with “truth” from a rather postmodern sense; meaning that while the satirical aim of revealing or exposing a truth is present, the impossibility of reaching an objective truth is also acknowledged. With the more contemporary definitions, there is also often an emphasis on the heterogenous aspects of satire. This aspect is one of the reasons why some theorists, such as Massih Zekavat, Jonathan Greenberg, or, John Clement Ball, for instance; are reluctant to call satire a “genre” of its own in recent times. While Zekavat considers satire as a discourse rather than a genre in his work, Ball calls it a mode of writing that can easily take the form of any other, 9 relatively “rigid” genre. In a similar vein, Greenberg considers modern definitions of satire “heterogeneous, slippery, and prone to multiplication” (Greenberg 12). According to Greenberg, it is difficult to define satire as a genre with its own rules and form because of both satire’s own variability and because of the heterogeneity of its contemporary definitions. As the contemporary definitions diverge more and more, it has been more difficult to arrive at a canonical model of satire as well. Greenberg suggests that the lack of unitary theorization has driven “critics and students alike” to “put the definitional questions to one side and simply gone ahead with the work of analysis” (12). As the following theorists of satire also illustrate, in the more contemporary outlooks, satire is defined by its “relation to reality”, which is again related to the satirical aim of exposing or revealing a “truth”. What is also important to remember, however, is the personal and subjective nature of satirical truth-telling. For Northrop Frye, satire is marked by these highly personal characteristics. In his discussion of Menippean satire, Frye suggests that it “resembles the confession” (309) and that “at its most concentrated the Menippean satire presents us with a vision of the world in terms of a single intellectual pattern” (310). Similarly, while discussing what types of topics satirists usually take on, Gilbert Highet suggests that “the type of subject preferred by satire is always concrete, usually topical, often personal.” (Highet 16). Thus, what Frye seems to be suggesting in his wording of "single intellectual pattern" can be recognized as the subjective and highly personal outlook the satirist brings to a text. Through this type of outlook, the satirist attempts to reflect reality and show the “truth” as they see fit. As Highet writes, though "genuine satiric fiction pretends to be true and real, […] it is distorted through and through” (158). As he goes on to explain: The central problem of satire is its relation to reality. Satire wishes to expose and criticize and shame human life, but it pretends to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. In narrative and drama it usually does this in one of two ways: either by showing an apparently factual but really ludicrous and debased picture of this world; or by showing a picture of another world, with which our world is contrasted. (Highet 158-59) 10 Then, even though satire is “rooted in history” (Griffin 29), the exaggerations upon which its tools are built on amplifies the subjective outlook it has. Satire makes its critique and ridicule through this contrast as Highet points out in the quotation. Still, as Greenberg suggests, “because satire is among the most “culturally embedded” kinds of literature, “to read satire” is always “to contextualize” it within specific historical parameters” (Greenberg 11). In her book Irony’s Edge, Linda Hutcheon makes a similar comment in regards to irony and writes “for some, irony—with its emphasis on context, perspective, and instability - is simply what defines “the present conditions of knowledge”” (Irony 31). For Hutcheon too, as a common feature of satire, irony gains meaning through the context of the present since to make sense of irony one needs to have prior knowledge on the context the irony is presented in. As a result, ironical language is instable on some level according to Hutcheon. Placing serio comical genres within the "carnivalistic folklore" tradition, Bakhtin similarly defines satire through its "special relationship to reality” (Problems 107) and its capacity to capture multiplicity of voices. For Bakhtin, The first characteristic of all genres of the serio-comical is their new relationship to reality: their subject, or—what is more important— their starting point for understanding, evaluating, and shaping reality, is the living present, often even the very day. For the first time in ancient literature the subject of serious (to be sure, at the same time comical) representation is presented without any epic or tragic distance, presented not in the absolute past of myth and legend but on the plane of the present day, in a zone of immediate and even crudely familiar contact with living contemporaries. (Problems 108) In addition, as he differentiates Menippean satire from Socratic dialogue, Bakhtin also claims that Menippean satire “is fully liberated from those limitations of history and memoir that were so characteristic of the Socratic dialogue” (Problems 114). Thus, satire’s unique relationship to reality as well as the somewhat unrestricted approach it takes towards history is acknowledged within Bakhtinian theory too. Bakhtin also locates Menippean satire as a predecessor of the novel as a genre known for its relationship to the present. In his “Epic and Novel”, he claims that Menippean satire (alongside Socratic dialogues) "was the first authentic and essential step in the evolution 11 of the novel as the genre of becoming” (Bakhtin, “Epic” 22). According to Bakhtin, Menippean satire “can expand into a huge picture, offering a realistic reflection of the socially varied and heteroglot world of contemporary life” (“Epic” 27). Then, satire can capture the multiplicity of contemporary life as it can “expand into a huge picture”. In other words, Bakhtin emphasizes how satire can offer an authentic picture of a contemporary reality through its capacity to capture the diverse voices that set up the polyphony of novel. Moreover, the way Bakhtin positions serio comical genres within carnivalistic folklore has further implications. Bakhtin claims that laughter within this tradition can be a form of resistance and subversion. According to him, carnival laughter is related to ancient forms of “ritual laughter” which “was always directed toward something higher: the sun (the highest god), other gods, the highest earthly authority were put to shame and ridiculed to force them to renew themselves” (Bakhtin, Problems 126-27). He writes: Carnivalistic laughter likewise is directed toward something higher —toward a shift of authorities and truths, a shift of world orders. Laughter embraces both poles of change, it deals with the very process of change, with crisis itself. Combined in the act of carnival laughter are death and rebirth, negation (a smirk) and affirmation (rejoicing laughter). This is a profoundly universal laughter, a laughter that contains a whole outlook on the world. (Bakhtin, Problems 127) From this point of view, then, carnivalistic laughter, which can be regarded as an originator of satirical textual attitudes according to Bakhtin, possesses certain subversive properties too. Moreover, we can even see the relationship between the opposite participants of carnivalistic laughter as a power relation. Then, the carnivalistic laughter satire evokes can have similar merits too. This way for “the other”, satire can be a form of resistance or reclaiming their voices. Considering this function from a postcolonial perspective, this can be liberating because carnivalistic laughter, as Bakhtin describes it, can bring the oppositional values postcolonial texts are also usually loaded with. In the simplest terms, postcolonial literature is also often concerned with reflecting oppressive realities created by colonialism. Then, the power dynamics created by colonial forces make a perfect subject matter for a satirist. Within the area of postcolonial studies, the views on these power dynamics vary. This variety is another point where satire and 12 postcoloniality can be examined together. The hybrid and often-ambiguous postcolonial conditions can be captured best with a mode of writing as open as satire is. Hence, satire can achieve the contradictory ambiguities that are often associated with the postcolonial condition. In addition, if satire’s relation to reality and its usual aim of exposing or expressing a truth is considered in a similar vein to how “the postcolonial writer uses the colonizer’s language to oppose the hegemony of imperial and neocolonial power and to construct herself in that language as a subject where before she was an objectified and voiceless “other”” (Ball 2); then, there is a common aim of voicing often disregarded truths within both satirical and postcolonial texts. Moreover, reclaiming your voice is also a key element in postcolonial studies. In this regard, the use of the colonizer's language to claim a sense of subjectivity has been a topic of discussion for various thinkers. In certain ways, the postcolonial incorporation of satire can be regarded as a form adopting Westernized literary traditions too, especially with the case of writers who are “writing from outside”. Oftentimes this process of cultural assimilation or acculturation is unavoidable which pushes postcolonial authors to embrace their ambivalence instead. Examining how various different postcolonial thinkers view this ambivalence of postcolonial voices show that the variety that is inherent to satire is inherent to postcoloniality too. Considering the fact that postcoloniality brings a sense of ambivalence and hybridity that complicates the notion of identity, then, satire can lend itself as a medium to capture this heterogeneity as a form of writing that is also usually defined by its versatile and open characteristics. 1.2 The Postcolonial and the Satirical In his Culture and Imperialism, Edward Said suggests that “the authoritative, compelling image of the empire […] finds its opposite in the renewable, almost sporty discontinuities of intellectual and secular impurities—mixed genres, unexpected combinations of tradition and novelty” (335). The postcolonial use of satire as a mode of writing can be viewed in these terms too since practices such as mixing genres is a characteristic of postcolonial writing as well as satire’s. While it is true that satire has Eastern models too, for the purposes of this thesis, I will solely focus on the Westernized 13 uses of postcolonial satire as the authors I have chosen all use Westernized versions of satire in the novels. As he borrows the term ‘convivial’ from Paul Gilroy, which roughly translates to “live with each other”; Bill Ashcroft, likewise, proposes that this term “describes very aptly the present state of post-colonial studies” (“A Convivial Critical Democracy” xvii). As he goes on to explain, Ashcroft argues for the inevitability of this cohabitation within postcolonial studies and suggests that this way, “the field may avoid becoming a Grand Theory” since “the determination of different approaches to 'live with' each other” is a sign of “productive debate” (“A Convivial Critical Democracy” xvii). According to Ashcroft, “conviviality does not obviate argument, but neither does argument obviate cohabitation” (“A Convivial Critical Democracy” xvii). Thus, both satire and postcolonial literary theory share the traits of variety and flexibility through which critique and this inevitable cohabitation Ashcroft observes is possible. For postcolonial authors, adopting a literary convention is an often-discussed issue of its own as to be colonized is to inherit a language that is perceived as not your “native”. Discussing British-Indian usage of the English language, for instance, Salman Rushdie suggests that “the British Indian writer simply does not have the option of rejecting English” since the following generations “will grow up speaking it, probably as a first language anyway” (17). Thus, “in the forging of a British Indian identity the English language is of central importance” (Rushdie 17). Chinua Achebe, likewise, states in his Morning Yet on Creation, that the adoption of English as a colonial language of the oppressor is an inevitable "by-product of this same process" that also oppresses and assimilates them (207). For both Rushdie and Achebe, there is an inevitable need to embrace the English language as a by-product of postcolonial identity formation, considering the future consequences of postcolonial condition brings. Historically, the oppression and the assimilation that the colonized has faced creates these consequences. In his seminal essay, “Signs Taken for Wonders”, Homi Bhabha outlines this process of mental colonization that makes the colonized gain hybrid identities and claims that, in shaping the colonized to become “a subject of a difference that is almost the same, but not quite” (“Of Mimicry” 126), the colonizer also experiences cultural dysphoria. Bhabha’s analysis of colonial mimicry demonstrates how the “display of hybridity-its peculiar "replication"- terrorizes authority with the ruse of recognition, its 14 mimicry, its mockery”? (“Signs” 157). In other words, as the colonized adapts to the colonizer’s customs and language, this leads to the creation of hybrid identities, which then blurs the signs of differences in the colonizer’s minds. These views are also applicable to postcolonial usages of English too. Bhabha himself talks about the influence of the "English book", which stands for the Bible, and how the introduction of these texts was a way of mental colonization. Yet, as Bhabha exemplifies in "Signs Taken for Wonders", the colonized were also resistant to read in a language that was not their own, which created a need for translations. This goes to show that the adoption of and the resistance to the colonizer’s language are both undoubtedly complicated processes that the oppressed at once embraces and shows resistance to. Hence, for Bhabha too, adopting to the colonizer’s culture and language is an inevitable process of colonialism, but there are also certain complications too. When we trace how the voice of postcolonial writers has been examined, while bearing these complications in mind, it is also evident that the views on the issue often bear disagreements and contradictions too, which again goes parallel to satire’s variety and openness. As a literary tradition, some of the major features of postcolonial literature are often cited as writing back, reclaiming lost histories and voices and subversive writing. As Ashcroft puts it in The Empire Writes Back, “post-colonial writing defines itself by seizing the language of the centre and re-placing it in a discourse fully adapted to the colonized place” by “capturing and remoulding the language to new usages” (Empire 37). As Ashcroft points out, “writing back” is a major characteristic of postcolonial literature, meaning that there is often an oppositional and subversive quality to postcolonial writing. The same can be suggested of satire as well as a tool of critique. Alongside their variety and flexibility, then, satirical and postcolonial writings also share characteristics such as oppositionality, subversiveness and referentiality. Still, it is also wise to remember that while for a satirist, being oppositional is a necessity, postcoloniality does not inherently bring subversiveness as opposed to the common misjudgment. Although they may or may not take this on as a mission, postcolonial writers are often viewed as representatives of a minority group with an agenda of voicing their silenced histories. Within postcolonial literature, the 15 need to raise oppositional voices has more to do with the historical silencing the marginalized people have been subjected to. In his, “Crisis in Orientalism”, for instance, Said demonstrates how from the West’s point of view, the Orient is a passive, silent object. Said then argues that what the West perceives as objective truths on the Orient “came from books written in the tradition of Orientalism, placed in its library of idées reçues; for them the Orient […] was something to be encountered and dealt with to a certain extent because the texts made that Orient possible” (“Crisis in Orientalism” 279). As he goes on to explain, to the West “such an Orient was silent, available to Europe for the realization of projects that involved but were never directly responsible to the native inhabitants, and unable to resist the projects, images, or mere descriptions devised for it” (“Crisis in Orientalism” 279). What Said describes here is the systematic silencing of colonized voices, not only through directly making sure their voices remain mute, but also through creating narratives and myths about them that popularize the misconceptions and misrepresentations the West has about the East. Hence, the birth of postcolonial subversive writings is undoubtedly related to this historical silencing Said talks about, as the subversiveness of postcolonial literature is certainly a direct reaction to that. Similarly, in her frequently quoted essay “Can the Subaltern Speak?”, Gayatri Spivak showcases how “the subaltern cannot speak” (104). This essay, in general, is based on Spivak’s theory of how the (usually female) natives of underdeveloped countries are systematically silenced in a way that renders them mute. The moment the subaltern gains a voice is also the moment they enter the system of oppression according to Spivak. The issue is not that they are silenced, but that they do not reside in a mechanism in which their voices can be heard. Though Spivak reaffirms the historical silencing experienced by the other (maybe more so for, what she calls, the subaltern rather than the oppressed); she also somewhat questions the subversive quality that is usually taken for granted in postcoloniality. Moreover, as an institutionalized form of literary analysis, this notion has been a point of criticism for some other authors too. As Sarah Brouillette suggests, “as a field of production the politicized niche of postcolonial literature is characterized by its own unique assumptions and practices” (96). Then, within these practices, “writers become representatives of their purported societies, 16 ‘cultures’, nationalities or subnationalities, transformed into all too singular embodiments of lengthy histories they can hardly hope to encompass” (Brouillette 97). For Brouillette, these types of expectations of postcolonial writers create an unfair misconception of true authenticity. It becomes as if the duty of a postcolonial writer to be an honest representative of whatever minority group they are categorized in, which is usually not an achievable expectation. In his The Postcolonial Exotic, as he points out how intellectual circuits usually associate marginality with resistance and then turn the concept of marginality itself into a commodity, Graham Huggan similarly argues that “‘resistance’ itself has become a valuable intellectual commodity” (Huggan 83). According to Huggan, there is often an assumption that “minority literatures are written at least in part out of the experience of social marginality, as undergone at some combination of individual, collective and institutional levels” (83), meaning that it is automatically assumed that minority writing would provide authentic and objective representations. For Huggan, this assumption is problematic for several reasons. As he gives Salman Rushdie and V.S Naipaul as examples of two “minority writers”, Huggan questions how these categorizations postcolonial authors are often subjected to works. He finds these categorizations limiting and points out how although both Rushdie and Naipaul are often criticized for upholding Western values in different ways, “it is rare for either to be designated as a British writer” (Huggan 85) even though they often align themselves with the English traditions of writing. As an author who is also often classified by his “Otherness”, Hanif Kureishi also laments: I have never wanted to identify with England. When Enoch Powell spoke for England I turned away in final disgust. I would rather walk naked down the street than stand up for the National Anthem. The pain of that period of my life, in the mid-1960s, is with me still. And when I originally wrote this piece I put it in the third person: Hanif saw this, Hanif felt that, because of the difficulty of directly addressing myself to what I felt then, of not wanting to think about it again. And perhaps that is why I took to writing in the first place, to make strong feelings into weak feelings. But despite all this, some kind of identification with England remains. (“Rainbow” 35) 17 For Kureishi, “‘my country’ isn’t a notion that comes easily” (“Rainbow” 35). He expresses that he feels in between these categorizations and although in his discussion of the identity crisis he has experienced, he talks about how he feels far removed from Pakistan even when he is there, and how he considers himself an Englishman, he suggests that this idea is not taken seriously by others (Kureishi, “Rainbow” 17). This in-between state of postcolonial individuality has of course been discussed countless times within the postcolonial discourse. In that sense, satire and postcoloniality share a sense of flexibility. Likewise, the subversive qualities they bring to the table are also quite similar. Yet, there are also important distinctions between them too because to be categorized as a “postcolonial writer” also brings expectations to “correctly” represent a postcolonial condition. For instance, even though much of Kureishi’s work can be characterized as subversive, what he is subverting is not always what is often expected of a postcolonial writer. His satire targets people from all walks of life regardless of their ethnic identities even though national and ethnic identity are questioned in his texts too. In that sense, he almost subverts the expectations to use subversion as it is seen appropriate for a “postcolonial author”. Here, Graham Huggan’s idea of “staged marginality” suggests a similar kind of subversiveness too. According to Huggan, staged marginality is “the process by which marginalised individuals or social groups are moved to dramatise their ‘subordinate’ status for the benefit of a majority or mainstream audience” (87). He further explains: …by simulating the conditions in which the dominant (in this case, white Anglo- Saxon) culture perceives them, marginalised people or groups may reveal the underlying structures of their oppression; they may also demonstrate the dominant culture’s need for subaltern others, who function as foils or counterweights to its own fragile self-identity. (Huggan 88) Thus, the theatricality of these acts functions to show the power structures that create the need for such performativity for the dominant culture in the first place. As Huggan himself points out, his stage marginality also brings to mind Bhabha’s conceptualization of colonial mimicry. For Bhabha, colonial mimicry becomes productive with the presence of ambivalence, and it destabilizes the colonizer’s identity alongside the colonized. Then, this mimicry can also be a sign of resistance according to Bhabha. As 18 he explains “what emerges between mimesis and mimicry is a writing, a mode of representation, that marginalizes the monumentality of history, quite simply mocks its power to be a model, that power which supposedly makes it imitable” (Bhabha, “Of Mimicry” 128). The act of mimicry exposes the dominant culture “to be a model”, and this way, complicates the power relations between the dominant and the subordinate. As a result, hybrid identities, that are “almost the same, but not quite” becomes prevalent in postcolonial societies. Both Huggan and Bhabha point out the inherent performativity within colonial mimicry. As a form of cultural metonymy, mimicry can almost be classified as a parodical act too. In The Politics of Postmodernism, as she discusses parody, Linda Hutcheon similarly claims that: As a form of ironic representation, parody is doubly coded in political terms: it both legitimizes and subverts that which it parodies. This kind of authorized transgression is what makes it a ready vehicle for the political contradictions of postmodernism at large. Parody can be used as a self-reflexive technique that points to art as art, but also to art as inescapably bound to its aesthetic and even social past. Its ironic reprise also offers an internalized sign of a certain self- consciousness about our culture’s means of ideological legitimation. (Politics 97) According to Hutcheon, postmodern parody’s self-reflexivity makes it function as both “complicity” and “critique”; two attributes she finds in all forms of postmodernism. As she exemplifies how postmodern parody can be a political tool with Rushdie’s The Midnight Children, she suggests that in the novel, “the structure of the parody enables that past to be admitted as inscribed, but also subverted at the same time” since “the literary inheritance of an Indian writing in English is inescapably double” (Hutcheon, Politics 100). As Hutcheon points out, this postmodern style of critique is a common attribute in satirical fiction, and the same can be suggested of postcolonial writing too. Examining how these two terms relate to each other be useful as a way of gaining new understandings of the poly-voiced and subversive qualities of both these concepts. To begin with, analyzing satire within the framework of postcoloniality has been a task that does not have many examples of. As the writers that will be discussed here also seem to concede, there are surprisingly few works that discuss satirical properties of 19 postcolonial fictions or the commonalities these two literary conventions share. In all of these works on satire, humor, and their place within the postcolonial discourse, there seems to be an agreement on the subversive properties these three concepts share. In short, subversiveness and flexibility are two of the most prominent elements shared by postcolonial and satirical texts as authors such as John Clement Ball or Massih Zekavat attest. As one of the first of its kind John Clement Ball’s Satire and the Postcolonial Novel evidently illustrate the oppositional or subversive merits of satirical postcolonial fiction. In his book, John Clement Ball points out how “both satiric and postcolonial texts are innately oppositional” (4) as he demonstrates how satire becomes “a tool of postcolonial critique serving cultures that were among those most profoundly affected by imperialism and its messy aftermath” (7). Ball sees satire as an ideal tool of critique for those who have been historically oppressed under imperialism. His aim with this study is to show “the variety, power, and complexity of satire as a tool of postcolonial critique” (Ball 7) since satire’s “multidirectional targeting” provides the perfect medium for the ambiguities and hybridity postcolonial condition connotates. In a similar sense, in Cheeky Fictions: Laughter and the Postcolonial, Helga Ramsey-Kurz claims that “comedy […] calls itself in question. It surprises by not keeping what it only pretends to promise, thus undermining the authority it also only pretends to assert" (79). Considering the representational aspects of postcolonial writing, her idea of “comedy calling itself into question” illustrates how the comedic effect of satire can provide a multidirectional targeting, just as Ball argues, because this way, there is a way of critiquing inner and outer workings of a social context with a metatextual awareness. Textual tools such as irony and parody are usually employed in satire to this end. In this same book, Michael Meyer analyzes Salman Rushdie and Matthew Singh-Toor’s rewritings of Jonathan Swift and Laurence Sterne as examples of postcolonial satires, and claims that the chosen rewritings of these two authors can be read as a subversion of British satiric tradition itself. For Meyer, Rushdie and Singh-Toor “multiply echoes of laughter from past voices by ridiculing both present ‘vices’ and the basis of the satirical critique, the specious claim to superiority based on moral norms and the discourse of reason” (Meyer 128). Meyer’s assertion is in line with both Ball and Kurz’s claims as Meyer’s argument also implies a multidirectional targeting in Rushdie and Singh-Toor’s 20 novels. Meyer suggests that these novels can even be examples of resisting and/or critiquing satire itself as a largely Western literary convention. Thus, the oppositional qualities of these novels come from both their postcolonial and satirical merits even though, paradoxically, the traditional, English style of satire is also called into question. Like other authors of the book, Susan Lever also highlights the critical and variable aspects of the postcolonial satire and humor. For Lever, satire is “the archetypal postcolonial genre" as “the colonizer’s gift of cursing” (109). In a similar vein to other authors, Lever also sees postcolonial forms of satire as a way of critiquing colonial forces as a subversive genre. Moreover, in his Satire, Humor and the Construction of Identities, Massih Zekavat similarly demonstrates how satire can be used as a tool for resistance, but he also emphasizes how it can also become a means of imposing already existing dominant ideologies. In the book, Zekavat attempts “to convey how satire can construct the identities of social subjects across the bipolarities of sexism, racism, nationalism, and religion all of which presuppose otherness” (4). According to Zekavat, “otherness is […] inevitable in humor and satire” (23), and it is through two opposing forms of othering that satire works to construct identities. He writes: Satire has been employed to perform two major functions with regard to the peripheries. First, it is adopted by the marginalized to mock, resist and subvert the mainstream. This function renders satire as the subaltern’s expression. Second, satire is manipulated by the mainstream to vex and marginalize the other and further deprive the peripheral of their share of power. In other words, satire can function as a means of othering. Thus, it has been used both to resist and subvert, and to reinforce the structures of power and social systems. In both ways, however, satire is a determinant of identity formation by distinguishing certain groups from others. (Zekavat 6) As Zekavat suggests, satire can be a tool of both subaltern resistance “as the subaltern’s expression” and as a way of reinforcing already existing dominant cultural ideologies “as a means of othering”. This notion “is significant not only because identity is among the primary contemporary concerns in a globalized, cosmopolitan, and postcolonial world […] but also because different aspects of contemporary life are dominated by 21 humor” (Zekavat 9). As he contextualizes satire as a discourse rather than a genre, Zekavat considers satire as a politically powerful tool and demonstrates its role in shaping identities. Since identity formation is one of the most significant issues within postcolonial discourse, Zekavat’s work can also be seen as an important contribution to the discussions of this thesis. Moreover, in his discussion of satire’s oppositional assets for the subaltern, Zekavat also complicates this oppositionality by claiming that satire can also be a form of othering or reinforcing certain ideological outlooks. Hence, his claim also in line with Ball’s view of satire’s multidirectional targeting as these two functions themselves show that satire is capable of functioning in multiplicity of ways, which stays the same within postcolonial texts too. This capability brings us to the shared characteristics of satire and postcolonial writing, and how these attributes are discussed in the analysis of satire in postcolonial literature. As Ball explains in Satire and the Postcolonial Novel, satire, in a similar vein to postcoloniality, resists unitary theorizations. According to Ball, satire “needs to be separately theorized for each body of work” (6). Ball sees satire as an easily adaptable form and analyzes it separately in each text it is used. Like Zekavat, Ball claims that satire is “the quintessential form of “othering”” (13), meaning that satire functions in a way that “others” its target. Since the act of satirical ridiculing is intentional in the sense that the target of satire is differentiated with great exaggerations to drive a point home, in a perhaps more righteous way, it bears a resemblance to postcolonial concept of being “other”-ed. Thus, satirical forms can be then both a resistance and a form of inner critique as a tool reclaimed from the West. As Ball argues, “satiric modes can articulate internal disagreements within a culture, and also offer variously constituted connections between the satirized conditions located there and the colonial experience" (Ball 13). Ball emphasizes satire's openness, flexibility, and multidirectional targeting as a rhetoric and mode of writing, and the two common elements he finds in both satire and postcolonial literature are oppositionality and referentiality. Stating that postcoloniality and satiric voices should be analyzed in consideration of both of their respective merits, Ball suggests that “if hybridity and syncretism are to be productive postcolonial concepts, their logical extension into the discourse of satire demands a concept of satiric multidirectionality” (Ball 12). In other words, even if a text “may not directly implicate” 22 (Ball 12) the multiplicity of targets postcolonial satires usually present, there is still a responsibility of reading these texts as products of the imperial and colonial oppression. Hence, analyzing satire within postcolonial texts requires one to find “multiplicity of targets” that reflects the complexity of the postcolonial state. Though the foremost target of postcolonial satire rightfully would be those imperialist powers, Ball also points out how “satiric modes can articulate internal disagreements within a culture, and also offer variously constituted connections between the satirized conditions located there and the colonial experience criticism of satiric texts” (13). In that regard, from a clearly subjective point of view, postcolonial satire can function to criticize both the inner cultural shortcomings and the external imperial forces’ effects on the context the author writes about. As Ball states, “satire merges elements from contrasting or antithetical realms” (23), which then allows satire to show its “multidirectional potential” (Ball 40). This multidirectionality, hence, can be a defining trait of postcolonial satires. While it is true that satire is also often characterized with its variety, from a postcolonial framework, this attribute can be even more heightened in a postcolonial satire because postcoloniality often brings this flexibility to a text. Susanne Reichl and Mark Stein similarly suggest that there is also no “singular postcolonial laughter” and ask: "Given their heterogeneous nature and blurred boundaries, what happens when laughter and the postcolonial are brought together?” (Reichl and Stain 8) in Cheeky Fiction’s introductory chapter. For Reichl and Stain, what they call as “laughing back”, i.e. the subversiveness of humor, can be seen as a valid function of postcolonial humor however it certainly is not the only one. As they also consider the communal effects of laughter that can bring people together, they point out how “the specifics of humour, the laughter that is shared among an in-group, are particularly interesting for postcolonial analyses” (Reichl & Stain 22) since the “laughter that is shared by in-group members wields cohesive powers” (22). For Reichl and Stain, this laughter creates a tie that strengthens communal ties. Moreover, from a postcolonial perspective, then, the idea of laughter bringing communities together also has further implications when the power dynamics between colonizer and colonized, for instance, is considered. The multiplicities of these dynamics mean that laughter, like satire, can be a multi-purposed tool, which again shows satire’s versatility in writing. In that regard, 23 Ulrike Erichsen, likewise, suggests that “humour can be used to highlight a doubly- coded situation” (30). In a similar vein to Ball, Erichsen suggests that postcolonial humour “can be employed as a means to defuse such cultural conflict by pointing out cultural differences without the need to ‘solve’ the potential conflict or to decide which frame of reference is more appropriate” (39). Hence, from this perspective too postcolonial humor has multiple functions that goes with its versatility. All in all, as all these authors argue, Reichl and Stain’s study showcases the variety of outlooks on theories of humor alongside postcoloniality. They thoroughly represent both the lack of unitary theories and the variety of conversations surrounding these subjects, and showcase the multiplicity of functions postcolonial satire/humor has whether it is bringing communities together or critiquing the dominating colonial forces. In all of these works on satire, humor, and their place within the postcolonial discourse, there seems to be an agreement on the subversive and flexible properties these three concepts share. Thus, satire provides a medium in which postcolonial resistance and subversion can be adapted in ways an author sees fit for their personal aim. Yet, as Zekavat also suggests, satire has a potential to be used to validate the dominant political ideologies as well, which might go against and complicate such subversive ideals. As Hutcheon also points out: There is nothing intrinsically subversive about ironic skepticism or about any such self-questioning, “internally dialogized” mode (LaCapra 1985: 119); there is no necessary relationship between irony and radical politics or even radical formal innovation (Nichols 1981: 65). Irony has often been used to reinforce rather than to question established attitudes (cf. Moser 1984: 414), as the history of satire illustrates so well. (Irony 10) Thus, even though “irony can and does function tactically in the service of a wide range of political positions” (Hutcheon, Irony 10), this political positioning may not always align with subversiveness or resistance. As Zekavat and Hutcheon both suggest satire can also work to reaffirm socially dominant ideas and political stances too. As W.H. Auden similarly claims: Satire flourishes in a homogeneous society where satirist and audience share the same views as to how normal people can be expected to behave, and in times of 24 relative stability and contentment, for satire cannot deal with serious evil and suffering. In an age like our own, it cannot flourish except in intimate circles as an expression of private feuds: in public life the evils and sufferings are so serious that satire seems trivial and the only possible kind of attack is prophetic denunciation. (385) Hence, according to Auden, satirical oppositionality only works if there is a societal agreement on the criticism of whatever vice or folly the satirist points their finger at. This idea however does not hold up when we consider postcolonial satirical fictions because postcoloniality inherently connotates heterogenous forms of society and outlooks. As John Clement Ball suggests: Postcolonial texts, satiric or otherwise, emerge from an environment that is at least as divided, fragmented, various, and destabilized as eighteenth- century England. Concepts such as shared norms and assumptions, cultural homogeneity, universal values, and social stability are impossible to apply with confidence either to contemporary postcolonial societies or to the international community of writers and readers of postcolonial novels. (19) Therefore, the oppositional aspect of satire as well as other ironic forms of writing also cannot be so easily dismissed, especially when the postcolonial aspects of such writings are also taken into account. Susan Lever also disagrees with the idea of positing satire in such a conservative place. According to Lever, positioning satire as a conservative genre, “despite its anarchic stylistic qualities”, dismisses how satire usually “tends to see History as decline rather than progress” and “regards the claims of history-as-progress with great cynicism” (Lever 110). As Lever claims, satire often resists the very idea of a linear, historical process, and as opposed to what Auden claims, brings a cynical outlook to the happenings of the present conditions it attempts to represent. In that regard, perhaps oppositionality should not be equated to aiming to create actual social change. As Greenberg notes most topical satires are “content to make a fleeting impact in the immediate present” (23) rather than a lasting impact that inspires concrete change. There is rather an aim of oppositionality for its own sake. Furthermore, with satire, there can also be complications in making sure the audience "gets" the intended meaning, which can often be problematic with satirical 25 modes of writing. John Clement Ball points out how even though “authors may write with specific audiences in mind” (20), this does not guarantee that the reception of their work will go according to their intentions. As he notes how postcolonial literature is consumed by international audiences who are made of various discursive communities anyway, he gives the controversies surrounding the works of Rushdie and Naipaul as examples and suggests that the differing reception of Naipaul’s works by Caribbean and Anglo-American readers demonstrates the problems with claiming universal norms as the basis of satiric communication. And while Rushdie may have intended his portrayal of Mahound in The Satanic Verses as satiric fantasy, many Islamic fundamentalists read it (or dismissed it without reading it) as blasphemy. These may be extreme and unique examples. But they point to a general fact: a satiric work may assume an ideal reader who shares its standards of judgment, but it will not always get one. (Ball 20) In a similar vein, Hutcheon claims that “even if an ironist intends an irony to be interpreted in an oppositional framework, there is no guarantee that this subversive intent will be realized” (Irony 15). Hutcheon talks about how irony happens as much through the audience's own interpretation as it is through the author's or any artist’s intentional way of constructing their works. For Ball, the problem of this authorial intent in satirical texts becomes a double-edged issue as he notes how similar issues can also be observed in non-satirical postcolonial texts too. He talks about how the cross-cultural references that most postcolonial texts are loaded with might not be fully recognized by those who remain outside of the postcolonial contexts in question. In addition, because postcoloniality is also undoubtedly related to and is understood through binary oppositions, Ball argues that this is where satire becomes a useful tool. He points out how “establishing gaps and contrasts is exactly what the satirist does do as a strategy of critique” (Ball 24). Echoing Lever as well as Auden, Ball suggests that this “radical dualism” establishes its preferences—its norms and deviations— usually along the lines of the conventional values of the satirist and his projected audience” (24). From a postcolonial perspective, it would be expected that the target would be the imperial/colonizer side of the binary opposition who is the one “in power”. However, as 26 Bhabha and various other critics point out these oppositions usually do not remain in two contrasting categories, but often include multitudes and possess flexibility. Postcolonial satires can be regarded in these terms as well, as representations of these hybrid conditionings. As Ball demonstrates in his book, satire works in a “multidirectional” way within postcolonial texts. Hence, Ball suggests that in order not to undermine this complexity, satiric postcolonial texts “demand careful investigation on a case-by-case basis of the gaps that structure their judgments” as the usages of binary contrasts in these texts would differ from one another, which should be accounted for (23). In that sense, “the critic must be alert to the fact that some satiric representations will look like reinscriptions of condescending colonialist discourse, as well as to the possibility that ambivalence and satiric multidirectionality may qualify a text’s apparent loyalties” according to Ball (23). In Hutcheon’s words, satirical postcolonial voices, then, are “never simple and never single” (Irony 16). Satire thus becomes useful for a postcolonial outlook because it can provide a baseline for the heterogenous and polyvocal texts of postcolonial fictions. Following John Clement Ball's way of analyzing postcolonial satirical fictions, in this thesis, I also intend to present a "case-by-case" analysis of each of the chosen novels; which are V.S Naipaul's The Mystic Masseur, Hanif Kureishi’s The Buddha of Suburbia and NoViolet Bulawayo’s Glory. As all these authors are considered within the boundaries of “postcolonial authorship”, I intend to analyze how their usages of satirical forms of writing function as a tool for both postcolonial resistance and as a way of embracing postcolonial conditions of hybridity and multicultural/polyphonic voices. As a mode of writing that is described both as inherently oppositional and as a way of reinforcing dominant political ideologies within a society, satire possesses varied forms of political functions in any given satirical text. My question here is, then, how do these political functions work within each of the postcolonial texts I have chosen as case studies? In that sense, as Linda Hutcheon points out, postcolonial theorists have argued that irony is one of the most effective ways of dealing with precisely such difficult issues—at least when used oppositionally from within. But there was the transideological rub: this irony was perceived as 27 coming from a colonial source, even if a self-deconstructing one, and even if the irony was largely at the expense of imperialists not Africans. (Irony 184) My discussion of postcolonial satire can be regarded in a similar vein to this conceptualization of irony too. As it was previously suggested, there is a presupposed form of resistant quality that is ascribed to postcolonial texts by definition. Yet, as Brouillette and Huggan also point out, this ascription might sometimes oversimplify the sociopolitical positioning of a postcolonial text. In the case of postcolonial satirical texts, then, the target might be both the faults the satirists observe within the society and the external imperial forces; and even the follies humanity shares universally regardless of ethnic or national identities. Satire as a medium can function in such a “multidirectional” manner. With postcolonial influence, these variable and flexible aspects of satire get even more heightened. Consequently, satire lends itself easily to the often ambivalent and personal critiques presented in postcolonial literature. Considering all these possibilities, this thesis aims to examine how Naipaul, Kureishi, and Bulawayo use satirical forms to reflect the postcolonial realities their novels are representations of, from their own personal reflections. In Chapter II, I will discuss V.S. Naipaul’s first novel, The Mystic Masseur, in relation to how his use of satire amplifies the ambivalent realities of both Trinidad as a colonial centre and as a reflection of his authorial voice in the novel. Discussing characters such as Ganesh, Ramlogan and Leela as representations of Trinidadian people, I intend to argue that although, from a representational stand-point, the characterizations of these figures can be criticized somewhat as “misrepresentations”; this outlook also dismisses the open and multidirectional possibilities of satire. Especially with the character of Ganesh, Naipaul portrays a nuanced and humanized portrayal of a masseur-turned-colonial politician who often falls victim to the necessity of colonial mimicry. As a primary target of satire too, Ganesh’s vices add dimensions to his characterization and exemplify how colonialism creates an environment these flaws can thrive in. Still, there are also valid criticisms that can be made with regards to Ramlogan and Leela who are often not given the same treatment as Ganesh as supporting characters of the novel. These portrayals, however, showcase the 28 ambivalence of Naipaul’s novel as well as the multiplicities of ways satire and satirical elements can be interpreted in a (postcolonial) text. In Chapter III, my discussion will be on Hanif Kureishi’s The Buddha of Suburbia as an example both Bildungsroman and satirical text. I will discuss how the contradictory elements of these two literary conventions are employed within the novel through the characters Karim and Haroon. In this regard, I intend to argue that Kureishi’s employment of satire in the novel enables him to subvert the conventions of Bildungsroman as a much more closed form of writing than satire. In the novel, since the personal journeys both Karim and Haroon undergo are paralleled with each other as performers of different kinds, this creates interesting possibilities for Kureishi to subvert the expectations of both Bildungsroman and satire. While Haroon becomes an unconventional subject of almost his own Bildungsroman, Karim’s personal growth is often stunted in the novel in contrary to what is usually expected of a protagonist of Bildungsroman. Moreover, as Karim’s humorous perspective also allows doing so, the satire of the novel does not overlook any of the characters or ideological stances portrayed in the book. Consequently, Kureishi hence subverts the expectations of “what should be of critical interest” for an author characterized as “postcolonial” too. In Chapter IV, NoViolet Bulawayo’s second novel, Glory, will be discussed in the context of how the satire of the novel is applied within the spectrum of polyphony. Since the novel deals with a fictionalized version of recent political developments in Zimbabwe, the discussion will also focus on how the topicality of the issues presented in the novel elevate the poignancy of its satirical elements. Bulawayo’s use of intertextuality, orality, and tonal and perspective shifts result with a narrative that is reflective of many contradictory voices that reside in a single nation with a history of collective trauma. While the satire of the novel brings levity and a broad spectrum of points of views that are enabled through the polyphonic attributes as well, there is also something to be said about the ways satire makes room for genuine and affecting emotions in the novel with its openness to carry conflicting voices collectively. Thus, Bulawayo can mock and ridicule what has recently transpired in her home country in a fictionally realized way as the silenced historical realities behind these developments are also presented to the reader without losing their gravity. As the novel also deals with 29 giving voice to a silenced history, which is a key feature of postcoloniality, the novel can be considered a “postcolonial text”. In that sense, Glory is a postcolonial satire as the satire of the text can be considered a representation of the aftereffects of colonialism on Zimbabwe. 30 CHAPTER II “TWO WORLDS AWAY”: THE AMBIVALENT SATIRICAL VOICE OF V.S. NAIPAUL IN THE MYSTIC MASSEUR In this chapter, Naipaul’s debut novel The Mystic Masseur will be discussed and the role satire plays in this novel will be analyzed in terms of the ambivalence Naipaul brings to the text. In The Mystic Masseur, V.S. Naipaul satirizes the Trinidadian society as well as the corruptive state of its political scene. Though at times it seems like his primary target is the ordinary citizens of the society, his critique of the making of a politician of a higher status also demonstrates what sort of corruption one should comply with, in order to obtain such a position. As authors such as John Clement Ball or Reyhan Özer Taniyan point out, Naipaul’s satires often take a “multidirectional” or “double- edged” form, and The Mystic Masseur is no exception as he targets colonizer and colonized alike. It is easy to come to the conclusion that, at times, his tone is needlessly biting and cruel against the colonized. However, dismissing Naipaul’s point of view also seems counterproductive for the discourse on postcolonial authors who write outside of their homelands as his voice represents the displaced colonial/postcolonial subject. As an individual who experiences “a double displacement, of the Indian originated Trinidadian people” (Özer Taniyan 39), Naipaul perfectly exemplifies this notion of displacement and ambivalence. The novel, then, presents a deeply subjective narrative based on Naipaul’s own personal feelings and views on Trinidad and Trinidadian people. If satires are meant to present the reality as if to put a mirror against it as Gilbert Highet suggests, Naipaul uses the broken pieces of a mirror in Salman Rushdie’s Imaginary Homelands in his reflection and paints a highly subjective picture of Trinidad. Still, his portrayal of the political scene showcases a valid critique of how a colonial state is ruled as the figure of a political figure is ridiculed for his phoniness and vanity. In many ways, satire becomes the outlet through which Naipaul expresses the ambivalence of both him as an author and the characters of the novel experience. 2.1 Naipaul’s Ambivalent Voice In many ways, the ambivalent qualities of The Mystic Masseur can be related to Naipaul’s voice in the novel and his own ambivalence, reflecting his own personal 31 history and experiences. In his Imaginary Homelands, Salman Rushdie describes his novel Midnight Children as “a novel of memory and about memory” (10) and his representation of his homeland, India, in the novel as “a version and no more than one version of all the hundreds of millions of possible versions” (10). For Rushdie, as an author who writes outside of his ethnic roots his reflections on India are reflected through "broken mirrors, some of whose fragments have been irretrievably lost” (11). As he likens these broken pieces to “broken pots antiquity” (12), he suggests that although fragmented, these views still have their value within literature. Hence, writers such as Rushdie who write inevitably from the “outside” also provide valid perspectives that Rushdie also finds valuable in terms of forging hybrid identities. For Rushdie: It may be that writers in my position, exiles or emigrants or expatriates, are haunted by some sense of loss, some urge to reclaim, to look back, even at the risk of being mutated into pillars of salt. But if we do look back, we must also do so in the knowledge—which gives rise to profound uncertainties— that our physical alienation from India almost inevitably means that we will not be capable of reclaiming precisely the thing that was lost; that we will, in short, create fictions, not actual cities or villages, but invisible ones, imaginary homelands, Indias of the mind. (10) As an individual who describes his position in the society as “two worlds away” (Naipaul, Occasions 10), V.S. Naipaul also exemplifies the types of displaced writers Rushdie is talking about in the passage who create “Indias of the mind” in their works. Rushdie embraces this inevitable outcome of Western hegemony and imperial practices, and it could be suggested that Naipaul's writing also displays some of these consequences of the cultural indoctrination colonial subjects experience. Yet, Naipaul is also an undoubtedly polarizing figure whose writing has been criticized for creating or reaffirming wrongful generalizations or misrepresentations of the minorities he represents in his writings. Edward Said, for instance, claims that Naipaul’s account of the Islamic countries he writes about in Among the Believers is “ignorant, illiterate and cliché ridden” (“The Post-Colonial Intellectual” 53). Homi Bhabha, likewise, points out that the types of representations Naipaul's work depicts are evident even through “the hideous panorama that some of his titles provide: The Loss of 32 El Dorado, The Mimic Men, An Area of Darkness, A Wounded Civilization, The Overcrowded Barracoon” (“Signs” 149). Elsewhere, Bhabha also writes: …the imaginative value of Naipaul’s writing lies in its peculiar perversity. His narratives embody their negative energies and prejudicial perspectives with a ferocious passion that is, at once, dogmatic and diagnostic. The reader is given unusual insights into the psychic and affective structures that inform the politics of everyday life as it is lived in the midst of the protocols of colonial power and its contest of cultures. (“Adagio” 373) Bhabha suggests that although Naipaul's writing gives unusual insights into colonial practices, it still bears dogmatic dimensions that create misrepresentations. As Rushdie puts it when he discusses Naipaul’s documental writing in the same book Said criticizes, the underlying problem within his writing “is that it's a highly selective truth, a novelist's truth masquerading as objective reality” (Rushdie 374). Naipaul, therefore, has been a controversial figure to analyze and study, to say the least. As he acknowledges "that speaking on the subject of V.S. Naipaul can sometimes cause anger and offense” William Ghosh asks in his discussion with Bhabha on Naipaul “so why do we continue to read, study, and teach him? Why does Naipaul matter today?” (Ghosh, “Homi K. Bhabha on V.S. Naipaul"). For Ghosh and Bhabha, the reason to study Naipaul is because, for all his faults and misrepresentations, his writings encapsulate colonial ambivalence in a very authentic way. Most of Naipaul’s late bibliography consists of his notorious travel narratives that he presents as documental truths. As John Clement Ball suggests, Naipaul’s “essays and travelogues have always been more controversial than his novels and short stories” (47) because of this claim of “representing the truth”. However, according to Ball, this criticism might have also caused biased readings of his earlier fiction that Naipaul has strictly posited as “fiction”. He claims that “it was only after The Middle Passage was published that West Indian critics […] began objecting on ideological grounds to Naipaul’s earlier satiric fictions” (Ball 48). This begs the question of whether or not one should judge a work of fiction with a retrospective outlook. In Naipaul’s case too, we cannot firmly judge his earlier writing with the context of his later work because his writing can also be reflective of the different stages of his life. As this chapter will focus 33 on his first satirical novel, this distinction between his early and later works is an important one to bear in mind. Furthermore, as Ball illustrates, Naipaul’s satirical fiction often does not get the same level of critical attention as his "serious" writing. According to Ball, Naipaul himself, in fact, rejects the satirist label (42), and he has labeled his earliest work as ““apprenticeship” works, “frivolous” books that later embarrassed him” (Ball 42). Though this attitude perhaps illustrates the reasons why the critical receptions of these books may not have been at the same level of Napaul’s later work, Naipaul also seems to be undermining the possibilities of satire and the satirist label. From Ball’s perspective too, embracing “the multidirectional possibilities enabled by satiric fictions” can be more fitting for an author such as Naipaul whose voice carries contradictions and ambivalence. Reyhan Özer Taniyan, likewise, claims that “for the readers and critics who are familiar with the postcolonial and Third-World issues, Naipaul’s style induces both celebration and castigation" (1). Calling Naipaul "an ambivalent writer", she argues that Naipaul's early work can be characterized by the "double edged" criticism they show regarding Trinidadian life and people (Özer Taniyan 38). Here, Naipaul's use of satire highlights his ambivalence as it allows him to target both the inner workings and the colonial practices of Trinidad. In that sense, because Naipaul has been a particularly controversial figure in postcolonial literature, his use of satire can be viewed as freeing in certain ways. Since the primary aim of satire is to precisely criticize and ridicule the faults the satirist sees in a familiar zone or context, this medium allows authors to show their more biting and critical voices in a more unapologetic manner. Hence, the same can be suggested of Naipaul as a satirist too. In many ways, Naipaul is also a displaced author whose reflections are often considered as at best imperfect and at worst offensive. For Ngugi wa Thiong’o, for instance, Naipaul is an author “who holds a mirror of imagination unto society to capture a certain view of reality”; he suggests, however, that “the mirror ends up showing much more than the holder intended” (“Lone Flower at the Dinner Table”). According to Elizabeth Powers, when it comes to Naipaul’s writing, “there is a general consensus that the “personal” characterizes both his ambition as a writer and the work itself” (Powers 198). Naipaul himself, in fact, suggests that he “is the sum of his books” (Occasions 34 182-83) as he claims his aim in being a writer was to make sense of the "areas of darkness" that surrounded him as someone affected by colonialism (Occasions 190). This characteristic of writing as a personal exercise can be observed with The Mystic Masseur too. In many ways, the novel, and its satirical elements, operate as a means of Naipaul's societal commentary on Trinidad. Interestingly, the novel opens with the following disclaimer: All characters, organizations, and incidents in this novel are fictitious. This is a necessary assurance because, although its politicians have taken to calling it a country, Trinidad is a small island, no bigger than Lancashire, with a population somewhat smaller than Nottingham’s. In this novel the geography of the island is distorted. Dates are, unavoidably, mentioned; but no actual holder of any office is portrayed. The strike mentioned in Chapter Twelve has no basis in fact. (Naipaul, Masseur 7) As opposed to his claimed documental writing of the later phase of his career, here Naipaul explicitly states the fictitiousness of his novel as a “necessary assurance”. Yet, as opposed to what he claims, some of the incidents and figures of the novel can also be suggested to relate to real-life incidents and figures too. The most notable one perhaps is the first general elections of Trinidad in 1946, which becomes a topic of discussion for Aaron Eastley in his “V. S. Naipaul and the 1946 Trinidad General Election”. In the essay, Eastley emphasizes the personal qualities of Naipaul’s early Trinidadian writings and suggests that his representations “are much more telling about their author than his island” (Eastley 27). According to Eastley, Naipaul’s “vantage point was in many ways ideal, but his views were obviously individual. And the same could be said of virtually all the extant primary texts touching on the election” (Eastley 3). Then, as it is also established by Naipaul with the disclaimer right at the beginning of the novel, even if some events or figures of the novel might have real-life correspondences, the text should be read somewhat skeptically as a reflection of Naipaul’s personal outlooks. 2.2 The Satirical Workings of The Mystic Masseur When one examines The Mystic Masseur, the role satire plays in the novel should also be considered with its “multidirectional possibilities” because much of the 35 novel’s narrative workings is born out of these satirical qualities. Satirical elements such as parody or irony give other meanings to a text that might not be obvious at first glance. In addition, because satirical intent is often loaded with sociopolitical criticism, these types of fictional narratives become somewhat of an encapsulation of the faults an author observes in a social context. In addition, as W.H. Auden argues for, there should be an underlying agreement on these criticisms for the intended meaning to come across as the author has intended. However, as it was illustrated in the previous chapter this homogeneity is an ideal that cannot be reached within colonized societies. As Gordon Rohlehr suggests: Satire is the sensitive measure of a society’s departure from a norm inherent in itself. Since Naipaul starts with the conviction that such a norm is absent from his society, his task as satirist becomes doubly difficult. Not only must he recreate experience, but also simultaneously create the standards against which this experience is to be judged. This explains the mixture of farce and social consciousness which occurs in the two early novels. (qtd. in Ball 66) For Rohlehr, Naipaul’s first two novels, The Mystic Masseur and The Suffrage of Elvira, reflect these difficulties as he attempts to represent Trinidad through a satirical mode of writing. Because Trinidad was a highly multicultural colonial center, Naipaul’s writing cannot be representative of the island as a whole. Then, The Mystic Masseur, alongside his other early writing on the island, is best seen as a reflection of Naipaul and his experiences as a young man who left Trinidad when he was eighteen. At the beginning of the novel, there is an unnamed first-person narrator who Özer Taniyan speculates to be “probably Naipaul himself” (41). It is through the eyes of this child the reader first meets the protagonist of the novel, Gan