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Kim
Set after the Second Afghan War which ended in 1881, but before the Third fought in 1919, probably in the period 1893 to 1898. The novel is notable for its detailed portrait of the people, culture, and varied religions of India. The book presents a vivid picture of India, its teeming populations, religions, and superstitions, and the life of the bazaars and the road.
Two men - a boy who grows into early manhood and an old ascetic priest, the lama - are at the center of the novel. A quest faces them both. Born in India, Kim is nevertheless white, a sahib. While he wants to play the Great Game of Imperialism, he is also spiritually bound to the lama. His aim, as he moves chameleon-like through the two cultures, is to reconcile these opposing strands, while the lama searches for redemption from the Wheel of Life.
A celebration of their friendship in a beautiful but often hostile environment, 'Kim' captures the opulence of India's exotic landscape, overlaid by the uneasy presence of the British Raj.
Two men - a boy who grows into early manhood and an old ascetic priest, the lama - are at the center of the novel. A quest faces them both. Born in India, Kim is nevertheless white, a sahib. While he wants to play the Great Game of Imperialism, he is also spiritually bound to the lama. His aim, as he moves chameleon-like through the two cultures, is to reconcile these opposing strands, while the lama searches for redemption from the Wheel of Life.
A celebration of their friendship in a beautiful but often hostile environment, 'Kim' captures the opulence of India's exotic landscape, overlaid by the uneasy presence of the British Raj.
366 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published October 1, 1901
About the author
Rudyard Kipling
6,592 books3,355 followersJoseph Rudyard Kipling was a journalist, short-story writer, poet, and novelist.
Kipling's works of fiction include The Jungle Book (1894), Kim (1901), and many short stories, including The Man Who Would Be King (1888). His poems include Mandalay (1890), Gunga Din (1890), The Gods of the Copybook Headings (1919), The White Man's Burden (1899), and If— (1910). He is regarded as a major innovator in the art of the short story; his children's books are classics of children's literature; and one critic described his work as exhibiting "a versatile and luminous narrative gift".
Kipling was one of the most popular writers in the United Kingdom, in both prose and verse, in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Henry James said: "Kipling strikes me personally as the most complete man of genius (as distinct from fine intelligence) that I have ever known." In 1907, at the age of 41, he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature, making him the first English-language writer to receive the prize, and its youngest recipient to date. He was also sounded out for the British Poet Laureateship and on several occasions for a knighthood, both of which he declined.
Awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1907 "in consideration of the power of observation, originality of imagination, virility of ideas and remarkable talent for narration which characterize the creations of this world-famous author."
Kipling kept writing until the early 1930s, but at a slower pace and with much less success than before. On the night of 12 January 1936, Kipling suffered a haemorrhage in his small intestine. He underwent surgery, but died less than a week later on 18 January 1936 at the age of 70 of a perforated duodenal ulcer. Kipling's death had in fact previously been incorrectly announced in a magazine, to which he wrote, "I've just read that I am dead. Don't forget to delete me from your list of subscribers."
Kipling's works of fiction include The Jungle Book (1894), Kim (1901), and many short stories, including The Man Who Would Be King (1888). His poems include Mandalay (1890), Gunga Din (1890), The Gods of the Copybook Headings (1919), The White Man's Burden (1899), and If— (1910). He is regarded as a major innovator in the art of the short story; his children's books are classics of children's literature; and one critic described his work as exhibiting "a versatile and luminous narrative gift".
Kipling was one of the most popular writers in the United Kingdom, in both prose and verse, in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Henry James said: "Kipling strikes me personally as the most complete man of genius (as distinct from fine intelligence) that I have ever known." In 1907, at the age of 41, he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature, making him the first English-language writer to receive the prize, and its youngest recipient to date. He was also sounded out for the British Poet Laureateship and on several occasions for a knighthood, both of which he declined.
Awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1907 "in consideration of the power of observation, originality of imagination, virility of ideas and remarkable talent for narration which characterize the creations of this world-famous author."
Kipling kept writing until the early 1930s, but at a slower pace and with much less success than before. On the night of 12 January 1936, Kipling suffered a haemorrhage in his small intestine. He underwent surgery, but died less than a week later on 18 January 1936 at the age of 70 of a perforated duodenal ulcer. Kipling's death had in fact previously been incorrectly announced in a magazine, to which he wrote, "I've just read that I am dead. Don't forget to delete me from your list of subscribers."
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December 19, 2022
IL RAGAZZO CHE NON VOLLE FARSI RE
Errol Flynn nella parte del pashtun mercante di cavalli e un giovanissimo Dean Stockwell nella parte del protagonista Kim nel film di Victor Saville del 1950.
Romanzo per ragazzi, e per adulti. Lettura per tutti.
Romanzo picaresco, quindi d’avventura, di viaggio.
Ma anche romanzo di spionaggio, racconto mistico, d’iniziazione…
Romanzo intriso di speranza, di fiducia nella possibilità, un inno alla gioia: è gioia leggerlo e gioia è quella che comunica e trasmette.
Il suo nome completo è Kimball O’Hara: è l’orfano di un sergente irlandese che ha sposato in India la governante della famiglia di un colonnello inglese, sua madre, morta di colera – il padre comincia a vivere come un vagabondo, dedito all’oppio, e muore giovane. Kim viene cresciuto da una donna indiana.
Questa donna gli ha cucito un porta-amuleti che Kim tiene addosso, nel quale conserva i tre documenti che lo riconoscono di razza bianca, incluso un certificato massonico (proprio tramite questo viene riconosciuto e ‘catturato’, adottato e arruolato dall’esercito inglese).
La Great Trunk Road all’epoca di Kipling.
È il bianco più nero e il nero più bianco, il più povero dei poveri tra i bianchi, cresciuto per le strade, libero indipendente irrequieto, un perfetto incrocio di razze, la bianca e l’indigenza, entrambe accettate integrate perfezionate.
Un mix felicemente esplosivo che si esprime in una curiosità smisurata per il mondo e i suoi abitanti: la gioia di Kim è muoversi, spostarsi, viaggiare, vedere, ascoltare, incontrare, conoscere, vivere in prima persona ogni possibile esperienza.
Kim/Dean Stockwell in braccio al mercante Mahbub Ali/Errol Flynn.
Kim è soprannominato il ‘Piccolo Amico di tutto il Mondo’: piccolo perché è giovane, tredici anni all’inizio del racconto – e, amico di tutto il mondo per quanto detto sopra, per la sua apertura curiosità interesse.
Un ragazzino che vuol fare esperienza e accrescere conoscenza, ma di entrambe è già pieno: del male già sapeva tutto da che aveva la parola.
Quando inizia la storia lo troviamo a cavalcioni del fusto di un cannone, monumento al centro di una piazza, che non faceva niente, e con enorme successo, un monello per le strade di Lahore che vive di espedienti, disposto a mendicare se occorre, sveglio, furbo, intelligente, pronto a cogliere l’attimo, a non sprecare nessuna occasione.
Kim a cavalcioni del fusto di un cannone e il lama tibetano che attraversa la piazza: il loro primo incontro.
Mi ha ricordato i due celebri personaggi giovani inventati da Mark Twain, Tom Sawyer, e soprattutto Huckleberry Finn.
Su è giù per il subcontinente, lungo la Grand Trunk Road, alla ricerca del sacro fiume per accompagnare il lama tibetano nel suo pellegrinaggio, e contemporaneamente studiando e trasformandosi in spia dell’impero inglese.
L’Inghilterra e la Russia, due imperi, si sfidavano per il controllo dell’Asia con quello che è stato definito il Grande Gioco, portato avanti da spioni e soprattutto spie di professione.
Che farà Kim alla fine, quale sarà il seguito della sua avventura, calcare le orme del suo lama tibetano o darsi anima e corpo ai servizi segreti inglesi?
Mi piace pensare che non trascurerà nessuna possibilità, e porterà avanti entrambe, continuando il gioco della sua vita.
Illustrazione del romanzo nell’edizione originale del 1901 a opera del padre di Kipling, John Lockwood Kipling
Errol Flynn nella parte del pashtun mercante di cavalli e un giovanissimo Dean Stockwell nella parte del protagonista Kim nel film di Victor Saville del 1950.
Romanzo per ragazzi, e per adulti. Lettura per tutti.
Romanzo picaresco, quindi d’avventura, di viaggio.
Ma anche romanzo di spionaggio, racconto mistico, d’iniziazione…
Romanzo intriso di speranza, di fiducia nella possibilità, un inno alla gioia: è gioia leggerlo e gioia è quella che comunica e trasmette.
Il suo nome completo è Kimball O’Hara: è l’orfano di un sergente irlandese che ha sposato in India la governante della famiglia di un colonnello inglese, sua madre, morta di colera – il padre comincia a vivere come un vagabondo, dedito all’oppio, e muore giovane. Kim viene cresciuto da una donna indiana.
Questa donna gli ha cucito un porta-amuleti che Kim tiene addosso, nel quale conserva i tre documenti che lo riconoscono di razza bianca, incluso un certificato massonico (proprio tramite questo viene riconosciuto e ‘catturato’, adottato e arruolato dall’esercito inglese).
La Great Trunk Road all’epoca di Kipling.
È il bianco più nero e il nero più bianco, il più povero dei poveri tra i bianchi, cresciuto per le strade, libero indipendente irrequieto, un perfetto incrocio di razze, la bianca e l’indigenza, entrambe accettate integrate perfezionate.
Un mix felicemente esplosivo che si esprime in una curiosità smisurata per il mondo e i suoi abitanti: la gioia di Kim è muoversi, spostarsi, viaggiare, vedere, ascoltare, incontrare, conoscere, vivere in prima persona ogni possibile esperienza.
Kim/Dean Stockwell in braccio al mercante Mahbub Ali/Errol Flynn.
Kim è soprannominato il ‘Piccolo Amico di tutto il Mondo’: piccolo perché è giovane, tredici anni all’inizio del racconto – e, amico di tutto il mondo per quanto detto sopra, per la sua apertura curiosità interesse.
Un ragazzino che vuol fare esperienza e accrescere conoscenza, ma di entrambe è già pieno: del male già sapeva tutto da che aveva la parola.
Quando inizia la storia lo troviamo a cavalcioni del fusto di un cannone, monumento al centro di una piazza, che non faceva niente, e con enorme successo, un monello per le strade di Lahore che vive di espedienti, disposto a mendicare se occorre, sveglio, furbo, intelligente, pronto a cogliere l’attimo, a non sprecare nessuna occasione.
Kim a cavalcioni del fusto di un cannone e il lama tibetano che attraversa la piazza: il loro primo incontro.
Mi ha ricordato i due celebri personaggi giovani inventati da Mark Twain, Tom Sawyer, e soprattutto Huckleberry Finn.
Su è giù per il subcontinente, lungo la Grand Trunk Road, alla ricerca del sacro fiume per accompagnare il lama tibetano nel suo pellegrinaggio, e contemporaneamente studiando e trasformandosi in spia dell’impero inglese.
L’Inghilterra e la Russia, due imperi, si sfidavano per il controllo dell’Asia con quello che è stato definito il Grande Gioco, portato avanti da spioni e soprattutto spie di professione.
Che farà Kim alla fine, quale sarà il seguito della sua avventura, calcare le orme del suo lama tibetano o darsi anima e corpo ai servizi segreti inglesi?
Mi piace pensare che non trascurerà nessuna possibilità, e porterà avanti entrambe, continuando il gioco della sua vita.
Illustrazione del romanzo nell’edizione originale del 1901 a opera del padre di Kipling, John Lockwood Kipling
March 15, 2024
Kim , 13, a lonely, British orphan boy, born in India, his widowed father, was in Queen Victoria's army, but he died, a hopeless, pathetic, drunk. Kim's full name is Kimball O'Hara, the poorest of the poor, who lives mostly, in the slum streets of Lahore, the Punjab (now part of Pakistan). Sometimes the child, stays with an old Indian woman, addicted to opium, naturally, he prefers the outside, begging for money, trying to stay alive and surviving, day to day... Later meeting a strange Lama, from faraway Tibet, while playing with his friends, in front of a museum, the monk is seeking information, about "The River of The Arrow", legend has it, that Buddha himself, shot an arrow in the sky, and when it landed, a river appeared miraculously. Anyone who bathes in the water, will have all his sins removed, and become pure again, the problem, nobody knows where this stream, is located. Kim decides impulsively, to follow Teshoo Lama, the monk in the "Search", becomes his disciple, in reality. Wanting to have fun, and exciting adventures., also, Kim is tired of the city. But first his friend, the mysterious Afghan horse trader, Mahbub Ali, who works for the British, as a secret agent. Has a message for Kim, to deliverer ( a dangerous mission) to Colonel Creighton, head of the British spy agency and get well paid too. War will occur in the north, as it always does, here, instigated by the Russians. Travelling by train, they encounter a colorful group of people, inside, all India goes in them, Kim begins to love the mad monk and the old man, likewise (the father he needs, the son he lacks) . Still the road, is endless, the odd pair, are not successful, in finding the river, tired and discouraged... Then the two encounter, Kim's father's, old regiment, by accident, the boy, against his will, is detained and made to attend, a British school. After three long years, the kid learns to read and write, in English, grows to enjoy learning, but never forgetting the monk.. Given six months, to go with his friend, and resume their impossible, strange, quest. The lama had visited numerous, Buddhist shrines, waiting for Kim, many unlikely incidents happen, on the road, even arriving near, the mighty Himalayas. Greatly helped by a rich, cantankerous, kindly woman, the Sahiba, as they go and see this unique land, spies are everywhere here, unknown dangers, but the real story of this book, is India... As Kim asks... who is Kim? Buddhist, Catholic, Protestant, Jains, Sikh, Muslim, Hindu, British or Indian. That question can be answered very easily, Kim is now a man, who loves India....You will too , if you read this novel.
October 27, 2019
“There is no sin so great as ignorance. Remember this.”
― Rudyard Kipling, Kim
This is one of those novels that I read and instantly regreted not reading earlier when I was a boy. I was able, however, to experience reading this with my two kids (one boy 12; one girl 11). It was perfect. I wandered into it expecting a well-written, more-or-less Empire-centric, Colonial novel. It was way more than that. I get the whole Postcolonial Lit thing, but I'm not ready to abandon Kim to this debate or even the Colonial designation. It is so much more. It is a bildungsroman, an adventure story, a wild vibration of the whole of India (North and South, mountains and plains, rich and poor, rivers and roads, believer and unbeliever).
I was a tad worried at first that the specificity of the place and time would throw off my kids , but it was like driving through a country bazaar in a foreign country. They didn't understand every sign or shout, but were transported by the smells, the vistas and the atmposphere of Kipling's last great masterpiece.
― Rudyard Kipling, Kim
This is one of those novels that I read and instantly regreted not reading earlier when I was a boy. I was able, however, to experience reading this with my two kids (one boy 12; one girl 11). It was perfect. I wandered into it expecting a well-written, more-or-less Empire-centric, Colonial novel. It was way more than that. I get the whole Postcolonial Lit thing, but I'm not ready to abandon Kim to this debate or even the Colonial designation. It is so much more. It is a bildungsroman, an adventure story, a wild vibration of the whole of India (North and South, mountains and plains, rich and poor, rivers and roads, believer and unbeliever).
I was a tad worried at first that the specificity of the place and time would throw off my kids , but it was like driving through a country bazaar in a foreign country. They didn't understand every sign or shout, but were transported by the smells, the vistas and the atmposphere of Kipling's last great masterpiece.
April 6, 2017
Although somewhat drowned in Orientalist ideals and British colonialism, Kim is an exciting tale of espionage and adventure for kids of all ages 9 to 99. It is an exciting read. I just with that Kipling had been a little less bigoted towards the Empire. Nonetheless, probably the peak of his writing for children at least in terms of character and plot development and complexity.
December 3, 2008
Kim served as inspiration for my novel
"The Game",
the seventh entry in the Mary Russell series. Feel free to come and join in the discussion, even if you come across this after December has passed--the discussion will remain open indefinitely for new thoughts and comments. Click for more information about the Virtual Book Club
Oh, this is such a wonderful book. Coming-of-age tale and historical treatise; spy thriller and travel narrative; rousing adventure coupled with a sleek and subtle tale of the meeting of ancient traditions—and all of it told in a rotund and glorious English that would make Shakespeare feel right at home.
Read it aloud: "He sat, in defiance of municipal orders, astride the gun Zam-Zammah…" The short patter of a two-word phrase: when used to open a book it is a vigorous and active statement, not some paired monosyllable made feeble by surrounding text. The phrase, tucked apart by the comma, is followed by the perfect juxtaposition of defiance and municipal orders: the mind's eye is immediately shown a small brown urchin facing down the cumbersome, pale, foreign tools of white authority. Then comes the drawn-out adverb astride: a mere eight words into the story, and we receive our first intimation that this creature who sits will turn out to straddle much more than the barrel of a big gun. And then the personification of that gun, Zam-Zammah, a name that fills the mouth from teeth to soft palate.
Prose that swells the chest and engages the mind. And I'll bet the bastard didn't even fiddle endlessly with that line in order to get it right.
Rudyard Kipling breathed the air of India for his formative years. He was an Englishman, who never doubted the superiority of the British way of life, or of the British person. And yet, Kim is infused with the opposite, the native's good-humored willingness to go along with the Sahib because after all, the poor white man needs to think himself superior, and it doesn't hurt to permit him, does it?
Thus, Kipling's characters are both caricature and fully realized individuals: his Babu is every upstart Bengali who came up against the Raj and failed, although not quite utterly—and his Babu is a man with enough stout self-regard to play the role of an upstart Bengali who came up against the Raj and failed, because that role is a most useful disguise when dealing with men of the West, who see the world in two dimensions.
Kim is both easy to read and hard to digest. Kipling's world view was that of the English Imperialist, with Victoria on the throne and God in His place. I don't know that I would call Kim a "profoundly embarrassing" novel, but it does without a doubt open a rich vein of discussion on colonial responsibilities, just as Mark Twain's novels open up discussions on American racism.
Anyone interested in the background of the story, particularly the real life paradigms for Lurgan Sahib and Colonel Creighton, would do well to look at Peter Hopkirk's excellent Quest for Kim. It will have you eyeing the cost of travel to Simla…
Oh, this is such a wonderful book. Coming-of-age tale and historical treatise; spy thriller and travel narrative; rousing adventure coupled with a sleek and subtle tale of the meeting of ancient traditions—and all of it told in a rotund and glorious English that would make Shakespeare feel right at home.
Read it aloud: "He sat, in defiance of municipal orders, astride the gun Zam-Zammah…" The short patter of a two-word phrase: when used to open a book it is a vigorous and active statement, not some paired monosyllable made feeble by surrounding text. The phrase, tucked apart by the comma, is followed by the perfect juxtaposition of defiance and municipal orders: the mind's eye is immediately shown a small brown urchin facing down the cumbersome, pale, foreign tools of white authority. Then comes the drawn-out adverb astride: a mere eight words into the story, and we receive our first intimation that this creature who sits will turn out to straddle much more than the barrel of a big gun. And then the personification of that gun, Zam-Zammah, a name that fills the mouth from teeth to soft palate.
Prose that swells the chest and engages the mind. And I'll bet the bastard didn't even fiddle endlessly with that line in order to get it right.
Rudyard Kipling breathed the air of India for his formative years. He was an Englishman, who never doubted the superiority of the British way of life, or of the British person. And yet, Kim is infused with the opposite, the native's good-humored willingness to go along with the Sahib because after all, the poor white man needs to think himself superior, and it doesn't hurt to permit him, does it?
Thus, Kipling's characters are both caricature and fully realized individuals: his Babu is every upstart Bengali who came up against the Raj and failed, although not quite utterly—and his Babu is a man with enough stout self-regard to play the role of an upstart Bengali who came up against the Raj and failed, because that role is a most useful disguise when dealing with men of the West, who see the world in two dimensions.
Kim is both easy to read and hard to digest. Kipling's world view was that of the English Imperialist, with Victoria on the throne and God in His place. I don't know that I would call Kim a "profoundly embarrassing" novel, but it does without a doubt open a rich vein of discussion on colonial responsibilities, just as Mark Twain's novels open up discussions on American racism.
Anyone interested in the background of the story, particularly the real life paradigms for Lurgan Sahib and Colonel Creighton, would do well to look at Peter Hopkirk's excellent Quest for Kim. It will have you eyeing the cost of travel to Simla…
June 25, 2019
The best work of Rudyard Kipling. In it, he explored many of his childhood memories of India, and it is generally considered to be his most successful full-length novel.
June 6, 2023
Rating: 3 stars
Originally released: 1901
WARNING: Racist language
Originally released: 1901
WARNING: Racist language
August 8, 2012
You know those books that you know from the very first page, you’re going to love it… this wasn’t that. You know those other books that start out slow and it takes you awhile, but soon you find yourself hooked? Nope, this was not one of those either.
In fact, I made it through the entire book without every really feeling invested in any way, shape or form. I persevered only because I started it a few months ago and gave it up, then restarted it, convinced I’d get through it. It’s one of Kipling’s most lauded books and it’s on a million must read lists and there’s got to be something else there. But in the end it just didn’t work for me.
A young Irish boy, Kim, is orphaned in India during the 19th century. He becomes a disciple of a Tibetan Lama, Teshoo Lama, and travels with him on his quest. Eventually a British regiment takes him under their wing and enrolls him in an English school. They decide to groom him to become a spy.
I loved some of Kipling’s short stories (The Jungle Book, etc.), but this one left me feeling cold. It’s suppose to be a “spy” novel in some way, but instead of having any solid plot it meanders and muses about life. It felt both boring and tiresome and I couldn't help but wonder why we were suppose to care about what happened to Kim.
I know I should have more to say about this book, but honestly, I was just glad to be done with it. If anyone loved this book I would be thrilled to hear why.
In fact, I made it through the entire book without every really feeling invested in any way, shape or form. I persevered only because I started it a few months ago and gave it up, then restarted it, convinced I’d get through it. It’s one of Kipling’s most lauded books and it’s on a million must read lists and there’s got to be something else there. But in the end it just didn’t work for me.
A young Irish boy, Kim, is orphaned in India during the 19th century. He becomes a disciple of a Tibetan Lama, Teshoo Lama, and travels with him on his quest. Eventually a British regiment takes him under their wing and enrolls him in an English school. They decide to groom him to become a spy.
I loved some of Kipling’s short stories (The Jungle Book, etc.), but this one left me feeling cold. It’s suppose to be a “spy” novel in some way, but instead of having any solid plot it meanders and muses about life. It felt both boring and tiresome and I couldn't help but wonder why we were suppose to care about what happened to Kim.
I know I should have more to say about this book, but honestly, I was just glad to be done with it. If anyone loved this book I would be thrilled to hear why.
September 19, 2024
I enjoyed this book a lot more than I thought I was going to. When I was in school Kipling was largely dismissed as a colonialist and children’s writer. This is a much grander piece. Although Kim has sometimes been seen as a boy’s book, I can’t imagine any 12 year old reading it today. It has some adventure and travel to it but the plot doesn’t really amount to much. The characters are interesting, especially Kim, the roguish streetwise kid. The Great Game subplot didn’t really thrill.
The setting of a wide open India is wonderful. It’s like a kaleidoscope of color, spice, smells, foods, and people of all castes and religions. That was done lovingly and was surprisingly spectacular. What I didn’t find was an inordinate amount of racism for the time and place. If anything, the English characters had notable flaws.
The setting of a wide open India is wonderful. It’s like a kaleidoscope of color, spice, smells, foods, and people of all castes and religions. That was done lovingly and was surprisingly spectacular. What I didn’t find was an inordinate amount of racism for the time and place. If anything, the English characters had notable flaws.
July 26, 2024
“A Punjabi constable in linen trousers slouched across the road. He had seen the money pass. 'Halt! 'Know ye not that there is a tax of two annas a head, which is four annas, on those who enter the Road? The money is spent to beautify the ways. 'And the bellies of the police,' said Kim. 'Consider for a while, man with a mud head. Think you we came from the nearest pond like the frog thy father-in-law?’
'He took a label from a bottle of soda water and, affixing it to a bridge, collected taxes for a month from those who passed. Then came an English man and broke his head. Ah, brother, I am a town crow, not a village crow!' The policeman drew back abashed, and Kim hooted at him all down the road.’
'Was there ever such a disciple as I?' he cried merrily to the lama. 'All earth would have picked thy bones within ten mile of Lahore city if I had not guarded thee. 'I consider in my own mind whether thou art a spirit, sometimes, or sometimes an evil imp,' said the lama, smiling slowly.’
“He built his fire as close to the cart as he dared, waiting for the escort to order him away. The lama dropped wearily to the ground and returned to his rosary. 'Stand farther off, beggar!' The order was shouted in broken Hindustani by one of the hillmen. 'Huh! It’s only a hillman’ said Kim over his shoulder. 'Since when have hill asses owned all Hindustan?' The retort was a swift and brilliant sketch of Kim's pedigree.
“A harsh, thin cackle behind the curtains put the hillman on his mettle for a second shot. 'But have a care, my brother, lest we be minded to give a curse in return.’ The women laughed; the hillman sprang forward threateningly. The lama suddenly raised his head. 'What is it?' said he. The man halted as though struck to stone. 'I am saved from a great sin,' he stammered.
‘When he has eaten' the hillman fawned on Kim 'it is requested that the Holy One will do the honour to talk to one who would speak to him. 'After he has eaten he will sleep,' Kim returned. 'Now I will get him his food.' ‘I and others of my people will look to that - if it is permitted. 'It is permitted,' said Kim. 'Holy One, these people will bring us food.”
“A rich city’, he said. ‘Richer than Lahore.’ There is no city - except Bombay, the queen of all - more beautiful in her garish style than Lucknow. Kings have adorned her with fantastic buildings, endowed her with charities, crammed her with pensioners, and drenched her with blood. She is the centre of all idleness, intrigue, and luxury, and shares with Delhi the claim to talk the only pure Urdu. 'A fair city - a beautiful city.”
“It particularly behooves thee to remember this with both kinds of faces. Among Sahibs, never forget thou art a Sahib; among the folk of Hind always remember thou art-' He paused, with a puzzled smile. 'What am I? Mussalman, Hindu, Jain, or Buddhist?' 'Thou art beyond question an unbeliever, and therefore thou wilt be damned. So says my Law - or I think it does. This matter of creeds is like horseflesh. Therefore I say the Faiths are like horses. Each has merit in its own country.”
“Kim and the loving old soul looked out through narrow eyes. 'To heal the sick is to acquire merit; but first one gets knowledge.That was wisely done, O Friend of all the World’. 'I was made wise by thee, Holy One,' said Kim, forgetting St Xavier's and his white blood; forgetting even the Great Game as he stooped, to touch his master's feet in the dust of the Jain temple.'My teaching I owe to thee. I have eaten thy bread three years. My time is finished. I am loosed from the schools. I come to thee.'”
“When everyone is dead the Great Game is finished. Not before.”
************
This 1901 novel by the 1907 Nobel Prize winner Rudyard Kipling is probably his best known and loved work. A 13 year old orphaned boy lives in the crowded marketplace of Lahore with an opium addicted shopkeeper. He is white and British but speaks several local languages, dresses like a Muslim or Hindu and is so sun darkened he passes for native. He meets a Tibetan monk at the museum on a pilgrimage to see the ancient sites of Buddha’s life. Kim, interested in the holy man and tired of life in Lahore, decides to become his disciple, finding food and shelter before their travel to Benares.
They shack up in a caravanserai owned by a Bukharan horse dealer who Kim does various works of mischief for. Mahbub Ali spies for the British in the back of beyond for possible Russian incursions, the ‘Great Game’ as coined by Kipling, and now is suspected as a double agent. On the train ride Kim stops to deliver pedigree papers on an Arabian steed to Col. Creighton, an army officer posing as an ethnologist, who plans a massacre in Rawalpindi or Peshawar. Kim obtains the plan and sends it to Lahore, while the lama searches for the Arrow River that will wash away the Wheel of Life.
They travel on the Grand Trunk Road around 1885 with a veteran of the Indian Rebellion of 1857. On the way they are met with great hospitality due to respect for the lama and cunning of Kim. He is also searching, but for a red bull on green grass who his dead father had told him would make him a great man. The lama and Kim are polar opposites, one seeking a spiritual redemption and the other for a worldly wealth. The lama grumbles about people being bound to the wheel, fingering rosary beads, while Kim cajoles food from fellow travelers and finagles a wealthy benefactress for the holy man.
Kim spots an advance party of British soldiers who plant the regimental flag for an encampment - its insignia is a red bull on a green field. Above it is the portent of war that Kim had learned along the way. Discovered by two priests they find his birth and baptism papers and his father’s regiment number in his neck bag. The Colonel decides to send him to a military boys school. Kim prophesizes that they are headed towards war. He writes to Mahbub Ali to rescue him. A letter arrives from the lama to pay his way at an exclusive school. Kipling recalls Dickens to mind, an author that he had reportedly admired.
It turns out the lama is supposed to be the Panchen Lama, improbably traveling alone, and is sending 300 rupees a year for Kim’s education. Kim hates the military orphanage and the boys in it. Kipling has styled them as bigots, perhaps surprisingly as he is considered an imperialist by many. There is humor found in the juxtaposition of the wise ass city boy and devout monk from the mountains. Though the lama wants to educate the young sahib he wants no part of it, wishing to rejoin the lama on his quest, but acquiesces. Col. Creighton tutors him in espionage as he studies in Lucknow.
On his summer break Kim goes to Simla with Ali and boards with Lurgan Sahib, a local shopkeeper, magician and master spy. He meets Hurree Babu, an agent of the empire. The lama travels all over India and Ceylon to the holy sites, while based in Benares, waiting for Kim to finish school and help him find the holy river. It is a coming of age story but also an allegory of people involved in intrigue. Kim gets a six month leave to wander around with the lama at the behest of Creighton and Mahbub, to find out what the holy man might have up his sleeve. Both Lurgan and Hurree are within the conspiracy of spies.
Kim is exorcised and has his skin dyed by a blind woman Mahbub procured while Hurree observes, before rejoining the road with the lama. They meet a Great Game spy from Jaipur identified as E23 on the train, as Kim and the lama travel in search of the holy river. There is a philosophical discussion between the merits of action and inaction. I could compare it with Herman Hesse’s ‘Siddhartha’ in terms of its spiritual insight, with the later author being more succinct. Kipling is convincing based on his extensive experience of the culture and doesn’t infuse the story with outsider inconsiderations.
Hurree Babu is employed by the British to guard northern paths along the Khyber Pass in current day Pakistan, but the joke of the workers was that the roads being built were paid for by Russians. Kim is inducted into the spy network. The lama, Babu and he proceed on a trek towards the Himalayas. They meet a group of French and Russians along the way and engage in a dangerous encounter. Kipling is subversive in describing Britain’s rule of India. His command of English and Hindi vernacular is formidable. Like Joseph Conrad it is difficult to imagine an author able to write this without his personal knowledge.
In the high mountains the lama teaches lessons of Buddhist blessings. He is attacked by sahibs and returns with Kim to the plains in search of the holy river. Kim had procured the secret documents for the sahibs and has an encounter with a powerful woman of the hills. Arriving they stay with the benefactress who provides a blistering rebuke of religion. Eventually the lama finds his way to the river of absolution and tries to convince Kim to join him in his freedom from the wheel of life. Edward Said compared Kipling only with Conrad ‘to have rendered the experience of empire with such force’.
There is not much politics or jingoism in this novel, unlike in some of Kipling’s poetry and short stories. It has been suggested that this is a children’s book, suitable for twelve year olds. It took me twenty years of reading and two extended trips to gather some basic allusions and terms but it is never too early to begin. The Penguin edition has an extensive forward, footnotes including Edward Said’s earlier introduction in an appendix. It has also been suggested Kim is the young man Kipling wished he would have been, who spoke in Hindi before he had been sent to England at age 5 and returned at 17.
The book paints a reasonable picture of the Raj. There were certain colonists who comported themselves with decency but the enterprise was intrinsically flawed. The idea of a ‘Great Game’ between two empires to control another country half way around the world speaks for itself. But it’s not really the focus of Kipling. Instead he has created a timeless tale of what happens when two cultures intersect, and not an unpositive one at that. Kim had grown up in a northwest Indian manner and tries to hold on to his roots. I find it highly recommendable but still hard to read with the verbose Victorian prose.
'He took a label from a bottle of soda water and, affixing it to a bridge, collected taxes for a month from those who passed. Then came an English man and broke his head. Ah, brother, I am a town crow, not a village crow!' The policeman drew back abashed, and Kim hooted at him all down the road.’
'Was there ever such a disciple as I?' he cried merrily to the lama. 'All earth would have picked thy bones within ten mile of Lahore city if I had not guarded thee. 'I consider in my own mind whether thou art a spirit, sometimes, or sometimes an evil imp,' said the lama, smiling slowly.’
“He built his fire as close to the cart as he dared, waiting for the escort to order him away. The lama dropped wearily to the ground and returned to his rosary. 'Stand farther off, beggar!' The order was shouted in broken Hindustani by one of the hillmen. 'Huh! It’s only a hillman’ said Kim over his shoulder. 'Since when have hill asses owned all Hindustan?' The retort was a swift and brilliant sketch of Kim's pedigree.
“A harsh, thin cackle behind the curtains put the hillman on his mettle for a second shot. 'But have a care, my brother, lest we be minded to give a curse in return.’ The women laughed; the hillman sprang forward threateningly. The lama suddenly raised his head. 'What is it?' said he. The man halted as though struck to stone. 'I am saved from a great sin,' he stammered.
‘When he has eaten' the hillman fawned on Kim 'it is requested that the Holy One will do the honour to talk to one who would speak to him. 'After he has eaten he will sleep,' Kim returned. 'Now I will get him his food.' ‘I and others of my people will look to that - if it is permitted. 'It is permitted,' said Kim. 'Holy One, these people will bring us food.”
“A rich city’, he said. ‘Richer than Lahore.’ There is no city - except Bombay, the queen of all - more beautiful in her garish style than Lucknow. Kings have adorned her with fantastic buildings, endowed her with charities, crammed her with pensioners, and drenched her with blood. She is the centre of all idleness, intrigue, and luxury, and shares with Delhi the claim to talk the only pure Urdu. 'A fair city - a beautiful city.”
“It particularly behooves thee to remember this with both kinds of faces. Among Sahibs, never forget thou art a Sahib; among the folk of Hind always remember thou art-' He paused, with a puzzled smile. 'What am I? Mussalman, Hindu, Jain, or Buddhist?' 'Thou art beyond question an unbeliever, and therefore thou wilt be damned. So says my Law - or I think it does. This matter of creeds is like horseflesh. Therefore I say the Faiths are like horses. Each has merit in its own country.”
“Kim and the loving old soul looked out through narrow eyes. 'To heal the sick is to acquire merit; but first one gets knowledge.That was wisely done, O Friend of all the World’. 'I was made wise by thee, Holy One,' said Kim, forgetting St Xavier's and his white blood; forgetting even the Great Game as he stooped, to touch his master's feet in the dust of the Jain temple.'My teaching I owe to thee. I have eaten thy bread three years. My time is finished. I am loosed from the schools. I come to thee.'”
“When everyone is dead the Great Game is finished. Not before.”
************
This 1901 novel by the 1907 Nobel Prize winner Rudyard Kipling is probably his best known and loved work. A 13 year old orphaned boy lives in the crowded marketplace of Lahore with an opium addicted shopkeeper. He is white and British but speaks several local languages, dresses like a Muslim or Hindu and is so sun darkened he passes for native. He meets a Tibetan monk at the museum on a pilgrimage to see the ancient sites of Buddha’s life. Kim, interested in the holy man and tired of life in Lahore, decides to become his disciple, finding food and shelter before their travel to Benares.
They shack up in a caravanserai owned by a Bukharan horse dealer who Kim does various works of mischief for. Mahbub Ali spies for the British in the back of beyond for possible Russian incursions, the ‘Great Game’ as coined by Kipling, and now is suspected as a double agent. On the train ride Kim stops to deliver pedigree papers on an Arabian steed to Col. Creighton, an army officer posing as an ethnologist, who plans a massacre in Rawalpindi or Peshawar. Kim obtains the plan and sends it to Lahore, while the lama searches for the Arrow River that will wash away the Wheel of Life.
They travel on the Grand Trunk Road around 1885 with a veteran of the Indian Rebellion of 1857. On the way they are met with great hospitality due to respect for the lama and cunning of Kim. He is also searching, but for a red bull on green grass who his dead father had told him would make him a great man. The lama and Kim are polar opposites, one seeking a spiritual redemption and the other for a worldly wealth. The lama grumbles about people being bound to the wheel, fingering rosary beads, while Kim cajoles food from fellow travelers and finagles a wealthy benefactress for the holy man.
Kim spots an advance party of British soldiers who plant the regimental flag for an encampment - its insignia is a red bull on a green field. Above it is the portent of war that Kim had learned along the way. Discovered by two priests they find his birth and baptism papers and his father’s regiment number in his neck bag. The Colonel decides to send him to a military boys school. Kim prophesizes that they are headed towards war. He writes to Mahbub Ali to rescue him. A letter arrives from the lama to pay his way at an exclusive school. Kipling recalls Dickens to mind, an author that he had reportedly admired.
It turns out the lama is supposed to be the Panchen Lama, improbably traveling alone, and is sending 300 rupees a year for Kim’s education. Kim hates the military orphanage and the boys in it. Kipling has styled them as bigots, perhaps surprisingly as he is considered an imperialist by many. There is humor found in the juxtaposition of the wise ass city boy and devout monk from the mountains. Though the lama wants to educate the young sahib he wants no part of it, wishing to rejoin the lama on his quest, but acquiesces. Col. Creighton tutors him in espionage as he studies in Lucknow.
On his summer break Kim goes to Simla with Ali and boards with Lurgan Sahib, a local shopkeeper, magician and master spy. He meets Hurree Babu, an agent of the empire. The lama travels all over India and Ceylon to the holy sites, while based in Benares, waiting for Kim to finish school and help him find the holy river. It is a coming of age story but also an allegory of people involved in intrigue. Kim gets a six month leave to wander around with the lama at the behest of Creighton and Mahbub, to find out what the holy man might have up his sleeve. Both Lurgan and Hurree are within the conspiracy of spies.
Kim is exorcised and has his skin dyed by a blind woman Mahbub procured while Hurree observes, before rejoining the road with the lama. They meet a Great Game spy from Jaipur identified as E23 on the train, as Kim and the lama travel in search of the holy river. There is a philosophical discussion between the merits of action and inaction. I could compare it with Herman Hesse’s ‘Siddhartha’ in terms of its spiritual insight, with the later author being more succinct. Kipling is convincing based on his extensive experience of the culture and doesn’t infuse the story with outsider inconsiderations.
Hurree Babu is employed by the British to guard northern paths along the Khyber Pass in current day Pakistan, but the joke of the workers was that the roads being built were paid for by Russians. Kim is inducted into the spy network. The lama, Babu and he proceed on a trek towards the Himalayas. They meet a group of French and Russians along the way and engage in a dangerous encounter. Kipling is subversive in describing Britain’s rule of India. His command of English and Hindi vernacular is formidable. Like Joseph Conrad it is difficult to imagine an author able to write this without his personal knowledge.
In the high mountains the lama teaches lessons of Buddhist blessings. He is attacked by sahibs and returns with Kim to the plains in search of the holy river. Kim had procured the secret documents for the sahibs and has an encounter with a powerful woman of the hills. Arriving they stay with the benefactress who provides a blistering rebuke of religion. Eventually the lama finds his way to the river of absolution and tries to convince Kim to join him in his freedom from the wheel of life. Edward Said compared Kipling only with Conrad ‘to have rendered the experience of empire with such force’.
There is not much politics or jingoism in this novel, unlike in some of Kipling’s poetry and short stories. It has been suggested that this is a children’s book, suitable for twelve year olds. It took me twenty years of reading and two extended trips to gather some basic allusions and terms but it is never too early to begin. The Penguin edition has an extensive forward, footnotes including Edward Said’s earlier introduction in an appendix. It has also been suggested Kim is the young man Kipling wished he would have been, who spoke in Hindi before he had been sent to England at age 5 and returned at 17.
The book paints a reasonable picture of the Raj. There were certain colonists who comported themselves with decency but the enterprise was intrinsically flawed. The idea of a ‘Great Game’ between two empires to control another country half way around the world speaks for itself. But it’s not really the focus of Kipling. Instead he has created a timeless tale of what happens when two cultures intersect, and not an unpositive one at that. Kim had grown up in a northwest Indian manner and tries to hold on to his roots. I find it highly recommendable but still hard to read with the verbose Victorian prose.
July 8, 2014
This coming of age tale had a lot of charm in many spots, but too often was a bit slow for my tastes. Kim O’Hara is a 12-year old orphan in Lahore in the 1850’s, child of an Irish soldier and Indian mother. Despite the loss of both parents he thrives well as a street urchin, always finding a way to make himself useful to community members or to engage sympathy from strangers and thus able to earn or beg his daily keep. His life opens up when he assists a Tibetan lama on a pilgrimage and joins him on the road, pretending to be a disciple. He carries a coded message for an itinerant Afghan Pashtun horse trader, which turns out to serve the British secret service in their campaign against insurgents against their colonial rule. He already knows several languages and is a master of disguise and escape, skills which the British develop through mentoring by others in the secret network along his travels. At one point he is sent to a Catholic school for British kids, but he gets away for long holidays and further adventures in the freedom of the road.
Kipling was a jingoistic true believer in the rightness of British imperialism. Yet he clearly loved India and its diversity of peoples and respects their cultural differences. But he sees through a romantic lens. Still that lens is a wonderful way to view the world, especially given Kipling’s poetic skills in writing. The alluring fantasy he constructs is that being open with the senses to the world and its people, unbound by creed or family responsibilities, is an ideal state of being in true harmony with the world. The morality of pretense and lies that allows Kim to thrive is no dark cloud because of his playful attitude it seems. All the spy work is not driven by ideology, but by the thrill of being “in the game”. Having a few friends he can be truthful with grounds him, and the spirituality of the lama and his quest for the origins of a sacred river rubs off on him. Yet there is little development in Kim’s character over the several years covered in the book. His perpetual journey is its own end.
The sense of the book as a travel tale, exploring the geography and urban settings of India, was part of the book’s charm. It would be great to travel with such a boy who sees the world as his oyster and each day a promise of exciting new adventures. Here is a sample passage that conveys tis flavor:
The diamond-bright dawn woke men and cows and bullocks together. Kim sat up and yawned, shook himself and thrilled with delight. This was seeing the world in real truth; this was life as he would have it—bustling and shouting, the buckling of belts, and beating of bullocks and creaking of wheels, lighting of fires and cooking of food, and new sights at every turn of the approving eye. The morning mist swept off a swirl of the silver; the parrots shot away to some distant river in shrieking green hosts; all the well-wheels within earshot were at work. India was awake, and Kim was in the middle of it, more awake and excited than any one.
Kipling was a jingoistic true believer in the rightness of British imperialism. Yet he clearly loved India and its diversity of peoples and respects their cultural differences. But he sees through a romantic lens. Still that lens is a wonderful way to view the world, especially given Kipling’s poetic skills in writing. The alluring fantasy he constructs is that being open with the senses to the world and its people, unbound by creed or family responsibilities, is an ideal state of being in true harmony with the world. The morality of pretense and lies that allows Kim to thrive is no dark cloud because of his playful attitude it seems. All the spy work is not driven by ideology, but by the thrill of being “in the game”. Having a few friends he can be truthful with grounds him, and the spirituality of the lama and his quest for the origins of a sacred river rubs off on him. Yet there is little development in Kim’s character over the several years covered in the book. His perpetual journey is its own end.
The sense of the book as a travel tale, exploring the geography and urban settings of India, was part of the book’s charm. It would be great to travel with such a boy who sees the world as his oyster and each day a promise of exciting new adventures. Here is a sample passage that conveys tis flavor:
The diamond-bright dawn woke men and cows and bullocks together. Kim sat up and yawned, shook himself and thrilled with delight. This was seeing the world in real truth; this was life as he would have it—bustling and shouting, the buckling of belts, and beating of bullocks and creaking of wheels, lighting of fires and cooking of food, and new sights at every turn of the approving eye. The morning mist swept off a swirl of the silver; the parrots shot away to some distant river in shrieking green hosts; all the well-wheels within earshot were at work. India was awake, and Kim was in the middle of it, more awake and excited than any one.
April 20, 2023
Kim is my first adult reading of a Rudyard Kipling book. And I don't know how exactly I feel about this book; I feel a little muddled. I don't attempt to write an analytical review here, for I quite don't know what the story is all about. I'm sure there was a story, but whatever it was, it didn't grab my attention. But somehow I kept going and that is what is incredible.
The book is a mixed bag. In a short space the book talks of the diverse cultures, religions, politics, social attitudes under the imperialism, espionage in the light of the Great Game. These topics were interesting and informative.
Amid these multiple themes, Kipling tells the story of Kim or Kimball O'Hara - a white orphaned boy, who was raised in the native Indian culture. What his exact story is, I quite couldn't fathom, but parts of his story, as separate episodes, held my interest. To begin with, I liked the character of Kim. I enjoyed his relationship with the Lama. Kim's love, devotion, and loyalty to the old Lama were admirable. Kim is a clever child, though he led a vagabond life. And I enjoyed his progress and development from a careless child to a responsible youth. That much is quite sure.
But my overall feelings about this book are muddled. The story neither bore me nor engaged me, so the dilemma at forming my overall opinion about the book and deciding on a proper rating. Parts of it I did enjoy, but the rest of it was just meh. However, to do justice to the depth of the thoughts of the author, his true portrayal of diverse themes here mentioned, and to my part enjoyment, I've set upon a middle rating.
Having said that, I would like to remember Rudyard Kipling as a poet. I did enjoy his Jungle Book as a child. But that was so long ago; I don't know how I will feel about it now. All I can say is that Kipling is a poet to the core and not a novelist. His thoughts are deep and I appreciate them. But he is a poor storyteller. That much I can vouch.
The book is a mixed bag. In a short space the book talks of the diverse cultures, religions, politics, social attitudes under the imperialism, espionage in the light of the Great Game. These topics were interesting and informative.
Amid these multiple themes, Kipling tells the story of Kim or Kimball O'Hara - a white orphaned boy, who was raised in the native Indian culture. What his exact story is, I quite couldn't fathom, but parts of his story, as separate episodes, held my interest. To begin with, I liked the character of Kim. I enjoyed his relationship with the Lama. Kim's love, devotion, and loyalty to the old Lama were admirable. Kim is a clever child, though he led a vagabond life. And I enjoyed his progress and development from a careless child to a responsible youth. That much is quite sure.
But my overall feelings about this book are muddled. The story neither bore me nor engaged me, so the dilemma at forming my overall opinion about the book and deciding on a proper rating. Parts of it I did enjoy, but the rest of it was just meh. However, to do justice to the depth of the thoughts of the author, his true portrayal of diverse themes here mentioned, and to my part enjoyment, I've set upon a middle rating.
Having said that, I would like to remember Rudyard Kipling as a poet. I did enjoy his Jungle Book as a child. But that was so long ago; I don't know how I will feel about it now. All I can say is that Kipling is a poet to the core and not a novelist. His thoughts are deep and I appreciate them. But he is a poor storyteller. That much I can vouch.
August 22, 2016
While it is one of the most beautiful tales of friendship I have ever read, Kim is much more. Rudyard Kipling created in Kim a novel in the mold of the classic heroic journey that has a pedigree reaching back to Gilgamesh and the Odyssey. With Kim, a young white boy, sahib, at it's center and his friend and mentor the Lama, we see the world of India in the nineteenth century as it is ruled by Great Britain. The story unfolds against the backdrop of The Great Game, the political conflict between Russia and Britain in Central Asia. It is set after the Second Afghan War which ended in 1881, but before the Third. The novel is notable for its detailed portrait of the people, culture, and varied religions of India.
While Kim is often categorized as a children's novel it has much to offer adult readers not unlike other "children's" books like Huckleberry Finn. Kipling raises questions of identity (Who is Kim?), culture, spirituality and the nature of fate. Most of all he depicts the growth of a young man through his quest to find his destiny and the bond that develops between Kim as 'chela' or disciple and his Lama. The greatness of this novel lies in Kipling's ability to combine all of these themes with a natural style that conveys the richness both of the lives of Kim and his friends and the fecundity of life in India; a vivid picture of India, its teeming populations, religions, and superstitions, and the life of the bazaars and the road. One of the most enduring images for me was the close tie Kim has with the land itself. This is shown several times throughout the novel culminating in his final renewal when he is stretched out on the earth near the end of the novel. The epic quest is successful as this novel unfolds a positive and uplifting narrative.
While Kim is often categorized as a children's novel it has much to offer adult readers not unlike other "children's" books like Huckleberry Finn. Kipling raises questions of identity (Who is Kim?), culture, spirituality and the nature of fate. Most of all he depicts the growth of a young man through his quest to find his destiny and the bond that develops between Kim as 'chela' or disciple and his Lama. The greatness of this novel lies in Kipling's ability to combine all of these themes with a natural style that conveys the richness both of the lives of Kim and his friends and the fecundity of life in India; a vivid picture of India, its teeming populations, religions, and superstitions, and the life of the bazaars and the road. One of the most enduring images for me was the close tie Kim has with the land itself. This is shown several times throughout the novel culminating in his final renewal when he is stretched out on the earth near the end of the novel. The epic quest is successful as this novel unfolds a positive and uplifting narrative.
September 9, 2024
Rudyard Kipling's Kim can be said to offer a great variety of interpretations to many different readers. I view Kim as picaresque, somewhat reminiscent of Huckleberry Finn, a novel about a quest, a journey and above all, a search for identity on the part of young Kimball O'Hara, a waif & son of an absent, alcoholic Anglo-Irish Color Guard father & a mother who has died.
He becomes a kind of chameleon, with almost everyone he encounters desiring something different from the boy & attempting to use him to best advantage, so that in time, Kim asks: "Who is Kim? What am I? Mussalman (Muslim), Hindu, Jain or Buddhist? That is a hard knot."
Set in & around Lahore in today's Pakistan but at the time it was written, a northern province of India, the crown jewel of the British Empire. As it turns out, the fictional character of Kim was born in 1865, the same year Rudyard Kipling was born in Bombay, today's Mumbai.
The novel spans 4 years, not long after the Sepoy Rebellion caused a major shockwave not just in colonial India but throughout the British Empire & at a time when the Great Game was at its height, with Russian influence & expanded territorial boundaries coming ever closer to the Indian Frontier.
In fact, Kipling's Kim is in many ways the prototype of a "spy novel" as much as it is an imperial coming-of-age story or a book about a young orphan's search for identity. It has been said that Kim served as an influence for the British Secret Service.
A dusky child of the slums, raised by a woman of less than wholesome reputation who uses a small & seedy shop as a cover for her more lucrative endeavors, Kim roams through the streets ferret-like, somehow remembering what he sees, even if not initially able to decode his experiences.
Kim spends time with the Protestant Rev. Bennett, with Roman-Catholic Fr. Victor, with an itinerant Tibetan Buddhist, Teshoo Lama who is headed to Benares (Varanasi), with Huree Chunder Mookerjee, a Bengali (Hindu) intelligence officer in league with the British, with Mahbub Ali, a Pashtun (Muslim) horse trader, with Colonel Creighton, an army officer & ethnographer fluent in Urdu who doubles as a spy & recruits Kim as an junior sleuth without portfolio & lastly with "Lurgan Sahib", a master spy who exploits Kim's talents as a pawn in the Great Game.
Kim is enlisted to copy documents, to make maps with a small paintbox & uses a rosary for counting but through it all & no matter who he is with, Kim remains a "friend to all the world".
Before becoming a young spy-in-training, with his skin turned dark brown by the sun, Kim was a student in a boys school for 3 years and the boy is somehow forced to reconcile the different forms of learning as he matures, using a variety of disguises, various languages, a knowledge of the Koran & of rudimentary medicine. Mostly, Kim eavesdrops & relays the information to his British superiors. And withal, he is as reflective as a young lad can be:
For one thing, while Kipling definitely believed in the necessity of Empire & Britain's "civilizing role" in India, he also saw himself as Indian & was never really happy elsewhere, in spite of the time he spent living & writing in Great Britain & with his American wife in Brattleboro, Vermont.
And the novel is seen through the lens of a boy who feels himself a child of India, while gradually realizing that his many experiences with other cultures have caused him to be not just polyglot but to convey multiple identities, depending on the time & place.
Lastly, this is a book that my fellow Missourian Mark Twain claimed to read once a year & T.S. Eliot (a fellow-St. Louisan as it were) held Kipling's novel in high regard. For me, that collateral testimony is more than sufficient to award Kim 5 stars. So, damn the naysayers, I am hereby raising a hearty gin & tonic to Mr. Rudyard Kipling!
*There is a quite wonderful introduction + additional notes by Jeffrey Meyers in my version of Kim. **Highly recommended for those who find themselves enthralled by Kim is Peter Hopkirk's very interesting book, Quest For Kim: In Search of Kipling's Great Game.
***Within my review are photo images of: Rudyard Kipling; 1880s street scene in Lahore where Kipling worked as a journalist for the Civil & Military Gazette; the characters in the novel; a young Kipling who went to meet Mark Twain at Elmira, N.Y.; Kipling's library/den at his home in East Sussex, U.K.
He becomes a kind of chameleon, with almost everyone he encounters desiring something different from the boy & attempting to use him to best advantage, so that in time, Kim asks: "Who is Kim? What am I? Mussalman (Muslim), Hindu, Jain or Buddhist? That is a hard knot."
Set in & around Lahore in today's Pakistan but at the time it was written, a northern province of India, the crown jewel of the British Empire. As it turns out, the fictional character of Kim was born in 1865, the same year Rudyard Kipling was born in Bombay, today's Mumbai.
The novel spans 4 years, not long after the Sepoy Rebellion caused a major shockwave not just in colonial India but throughout the British Empire & at a time when the Great Game was at its height, with Russian influence & expanded territorial boundaries coming ever closer to the Indian Frontier.
In fact, Kipling's Kim is in many ways the prototype of a "spy novel" as much as it is an imperial coming-of-age story or a book about a young orphan's search for identity. It has been said that Kim served as an influence for the British Secret Service.
A dusky child of the slums, raised by a woman of less than wholesome reputation who uses a small & seedy shop as a cover for her more lucrative endeavors, Kim roams through the streets ferret-like, somehow remembering what he sees, even if not initially able to decode his experiences.
Kim spends time with the Protestant Rev. Bennett, with Roman-Catholic Fr. Victor, with an itinerant Tibetan Buddhist, Teshoo Lama who is headed to Benares (Varanasi), with Huree Chunder Mookerjee, a Bengali (Hindu) intelligence officer in league with the British, with Mahbub Ali, a Pashtun (Muslim) horse trader, with Colonel Creighton, an army officer & ethnographer fluent in Urdu who doubles as a spy & recruits Kim as an junior sleuth without portfolio & lastly with "Lurgan Sahib", a master spy who exploits Kim's talents as a pawn in the Great Game.
Kim is enlisted to copy documents, to make maps with a small paintbox & uses a rosary for counting but through it all & no matter who he is with, Kim remains a "friend to all the world".
Kim slept little & his thoughts ran in Hindustani: Well is the Game called great! I was 4 days a scullion (servant/rascal/spy/knave) at Quetta, waiting on the wife of a man whose book I stole. And that was part of the Great Game! From the South--God knows how far--I came up to Mahratta, playing the Great Game in fear of my life. Now, I shall go far into the north playing the Great Game.At some point Kim encounters a flag with a red bull in the center on a ground of Irish green, a remnant to his identity & a spark of recognition occurs. Other than that, he was left with 3 tokens from his father, including an amulet, a diploma he can't fathom & a masonic document with the inscription: "Ne Varietur" or, "It must not be changed".
Truly, it runs like a shuttle throughout all Hind. And my share & my joy? He smiled into the darkness--I owe to the lama here. Also to Mahbub Ali--also to Creighton Sahib, but chiefly to the Holy One. He is right--it is a great & wonderful world--and I am Kim, Kim, Kim, alone--one person--in the middle of it all.
Before becoming a young spy-in-training, with his skin turned dark brown by the sun, Kim was a student in a boys school for 3 years and the boy is somehow forced to reconcile the different forms of learning as he matures, using a variety of disguises, various languages, a knowledge of the Koran & of rudimentary medicine. Mostly, Kim eavesdrops & relays the information to his British superiors. And withal, he is as reflective as a young lad can be:
All that while he felt, though he could not put it into words, that his soul was out of gear with its surrounding--a cogwheel unconnected to any machinery. I am Kim. I am Kim. And what is Kim? His soul repeated this again & again. He did not want to cry. He had never felt less like crying in his life--but all of a sudden, easy stupid tears trickled down his nose & with an almost audible click he felt the wheels of his being lock up anew on the world without.Alas, I am not unaware that many, Edward Said among them, see Kipling's Kim as a book enshrouded in colonial conceit, the lingering mists of "White Man's Burden" but I am not one of them. Kipling's Kim is quite assuredly a novel of a particular time & place but a book I feel thoroughly passionate about.
Things that rose meaningless on the eyeball an instant before slid into proper proportion. Roads were meant to be walked upon, houses to be lived in, cattle to be driven, fields to be tilled and men & women to be talked to. They were all real & true--solidly planted on the feet--perfectly comprehensible--clay of his clay, neither more or less. He shook himself like a dog with a flea in his ear & rambled out of the gate.
For one thing, while Kipling definitely believed in the necessity of Empire & Britain's "civilizing role" in India, he also saw himself as Indian & was never really happy elsewhere, in spite of the time he spent living & writing in Great Britain & with his American wife in Brattleboro, Vermont.
And the novel is seen through the lens of a boy who feels himself a child of India, while gradually realizing that his many experiences with other cultures have caused him to be not just polyglot but to convey multiple identities, depending on the time & place.
Lastly, this is a book that my fellow Missourian Mark Twain claimed to read once a year & T.S. Eliot (a fellow-St. Louisan as it were) held Kipling's novel in high regard. For me, that collateral testimony is more than sufficient to award Kim 5 stars. So, damn the naysayers, I am hereby raising a hearty gin & tonic to Mr. Rudyard Kipling!
*There is a quite wonderful introduction + additional notes by Jeffrey Meyers in my version of Kim. **Highly recommended for those who find themselves enthralled by Kim is Peter Hopkirk's very interesting book, Quest For Kim: In Search of Kipling's Great Game.
***Within my review are photo images of: Rudyard Kipling; 1880s street scene in Lahore where Kipling worked as a journalist for the Civil & Military Gazette; the characters in the novel; a young Kipling who went to meet Mark Twain at Elmira, N.Y.; Kipling's library/den at his home in East Sussex, U.K.
November 18, 2014
Single Quote Review:
It was all there in Kipling, barring the epilogue of the Indian inheritance. A journey to India was not really necessary. No writer was more honest or accurate; no writer was more revealing of himself and his society. He has left us Anglo-India; to people these relics of the Raj we have only to read him.
We find a people conscious of their roles, conscious of their power and separateness, yet at the same time fearful of expressing their delight at their situation: they are all burdened by responsibilities.
The responsibilities are real; but the total effect is that of a people at play. They are all actors; they know what is expected of them; no one will give the game away.
~ V.S. Naipaul, An Area of Darkness
April 27, 2016
It’s been a long time since I’ve graduated law school, a longer time for college, and a million years (give or take a year) since high school. That means it’s been a long time since I’ve been forced to read a particular book.
I’ve always loved to read. And I’ve always hated assigned reading. I’ve despised books I’d otherwise enjoy simply because I’m told to read it on a deadline and feel a particular intellectual response.
So, ever since my last diploma, I’ve been reading whatever I want. If you look at my bookshelf, you can tell. The Civil War right here. A growing shelf of World War I over there. My collection on the Plains Indian Wars taking up nearly an entire miniature bookcase from Ikea.
There’s nothing wrong with reading what you want. Especially as you get older, you have less time; if you’re going to devote it to reading, you should enjoy the book. At the same time, I’ve always believed in reading as an exercise, and certain books a worthwhile challenge. If you go to the gym every day and do the same routine at the same intensity level, you eventually stop seeing results. It’s the same with reading.
That’s where my book club comes in. A group of my guy friends, inspired by our wives, decided to form our own literary society, devoted to drinking beer, eating apps, and talking about the printed word. A side benefit, besides the beer and mini tacos, is that I’ve had to read books I wouldn’t otherwise choose, and thereby use my brain for something other than meditations on the Battle of Gettysburg.
This is how – I came to read Rudyard Kipling’s Kim.
Kim is one of those books, based almost solely on the title, that I never would have read without a little push. It’s recognized as a classic, but sometimes gets left off the list of all time greats.
The titular Kim is Kimball O’Hara, an orphaned Irish boy living in India in the late 1800s. He is a beggar who has become so accustomed to life in Lahore that he is seldom taken for a white boy. He is a puckish, plucky protagonist, with a mischievous sense of adventure that makes him feel like the hero of a Boy’s Own tale. Within the novel’s first few pages, he meets a Tibetan Lama (not a llama, which would have been a marvelous twist) who is looking for the River of the Arrow to free himself from the Wheel of Things.
This ridiculous notion appeals to Kim, who immediately offers his services as the Lama’s chela, a follower or disciple. Thus begins their adventure – an episodic road-trip, in which colorful characters are met, and then left behind. Since this is a plot-light novel, to reveal much more would probably give too much. Needless to say, Kim and the Lama become entwined in “the Great Game,” the typically British, typically understated title given to the competition between Britain and Tsarist Russian for control of Central Asia.
(Kim came to the attention of my book club due to our discussion of colonialism. In the novel, however, that subject exists only in the background. Kipling never makes any critique, positive or otherwise, about Great Britain’s rule of India. The power structure is simply accepted for what it is, without any mention. This, I suppose, may be a statement in and of itself).
Frankly, I was underwhelmed by Kim. It was okay. Part of this reaction has to do with Kim’s appellation as a classic, and all that implies. A book that’s on Modern Library’s Top 100 should do a bit more to grab you by the lapel and insist upon its own worth. The reality, though, is that Kim isn’t world-changing. It is not a terribly challenging read. It lacks the ambition or scope of Melville or Tolstoy, or the psychological excavation of Dostoyevsky, or even the seat-of-your-pants story-spinning of Dickens. It really boils down to a YA novel, where a spirited boy finds a mentor (the Lama), sets out on a journey (to the mythical, sacred river), and generally outwits all the adults he meets.
Still, I generally found Kim a pleasant enough read.
Kipling lived in India, and it shows in his marvelous descriptions of the bustle, the sights and smells, the colors, the mishmash of peoples and cultures and practices. He clearly has an intimacy with the place, the roads his characters walk. And he has a fondness also, that comes through his protagonist.
Another pleasure, related to the first, is Kipling’s exploration of the many different religions bumping against each other in India. The novel is driven by faith and spirituality, and Kipling shows a genuine interest in these, as well as a certain open-heartedness to all beliefs, as expressed in this speech from Mahbub Ali, a Pashtun horse trader and erstwhile British spy:
It’s fair to say that my main reaction is to have no strong reaction at all. As I noted above, Kim is not hard to read, with the exception of the dialogue. The dialogue is swollen by colloquialisms and local idioms, filled with obscure allusions and references (that can only be deciphered by the endnotes), and studded with enough “thees” and “thous” to sink the Mayflower. The one difficulty in Kim is figuring out what people are saying in this heavily stylized manner of speaking. Unfortunately, most of the exposition takes place in dialogue, so understanding is critical.
The real downer of Kim is its ending. The road-trip of Kim and the Lama builds to a climax and then fizzles out like a cheap sparkler. The ending is abrupt and disappointing, which would’ve meant more to me had I had more invested in the first place.
I’ve always loved to read. And I’ve always hated assigned reading. I’ve despised books I’d otherwise enjoy simply because I’m told to read it on a deadline and feel a particular intellectual response.
So, ever since my last diploma, I’ve been reading whatever I want. If you look at my bookshelf, you can tell. The Civil War right here. A growing shelf of World War I over there. My collection on the Plains Indian Wars taking up nearly an entire miniature bookcase from Ikea.
There’s nothing wrong with reading what you want. Especially as you get older, you have less time; if you’re going to devote it to reading, you should enjoy the book. At the same time, I’ve always believed in reading as an exercise, and certain books a worthwhile challenge. If you go to the gym every day and do the same routine at the same intensity level, you eventually stop seeing results. It’s the same with reading.
That’s where my book club comes in. A group of my guy friends, inspired by our wives, decided to form our own literary society, devoted to drinking beer, eating apps, and talking about the printed word. A side benefit, besides the beer and mini tacos, is that I’ve had to read books I wouldn’t otherwise choose, and thereby use my brain for something other than meditations on the Battle of Gettysburg.
This is how – I came to read Rudyard Kipling’s Kim.
Kim is one of those books, based almost solely on the title, that I never would have read without a little push. It’s recognized as a classic, but sometimes gets left off the list of all time greats.
The titular Kim is Kimball O’Hara, an orphaned Irish boy living in India in the late 1800s. He is a beggar who has become so accustomed to life in Lahore that he is seldom taken for a white boy. He is a puckish, plucky protagonist, with a mischievous sense of adventure that makes him feel like the hero of a Boy’s Own tale. Within the novel’s first few pages, he meets a Tibetan Lama (not a llama, which would have been a marvelous twist) who is looking for the River of the Arrow to free himself from the Wheel of Things.
This ridiculous notion appeals to Kim, who immediately offers his services as the Lama’s chela, a follower or disciple. Thus begins their adventure – an episodic road-trip, in which colorful characters are met, and then left behind. Since this is a plot-light novel, to reveal much more would probably give too much. Needless to say, Kim and the Lama become entwined in “the Great Game,” the typically British, typically understated title given to the competition between Britain and Tsarist Russian for control of Central Asia.
(Kim came to the attention of my book club due to our discussion of colonialism. In the novel, however, that subject exists only in the background. Kipling never makes any critique, positive or otherwise, about Great Britain’s rule of India. The power structure is simply accepted for what it is, without any mention. This, I suppose, may be a statement in and of itself).
Frankly, I was underwhelmed by Kim. It was okay. Part of this reaction has to do with Kim’s appellation as a classic, and all that implies. A book that’s on Modern Library’s Top 100 should do a bit more to grab you by the lapel and insist upon its own worth. The reality, though, is that Kim isn’t world-changing. It is not a terribly challenging read. It lacks the ambition or scope of Melville or Tolstoy, or the psychological excavation of Dostoyevsky, or even the seat-of-your-pants story-spinning of Dickens. It really boils down to a YA novel, where a spirited boy finds a mentor (the Lama), sets out on a journey (to the mythical, sacred river), and generally outwits all the adults he meets.
Still, I generally found Kim a pleasant enough read.
Kipling lived in India, and it shows in his marvelous descriptions of the bustle, the sights and smells, the colors, the mishmash of peoples and cultures and practices. He clearly has an intimacy with the place, the roads his characters walk. And he has a fondness also, that comes through his protagonist.
The lama never raised his eyes. He did not note the money-lender on his goose-rumped pony, hastening along to collect the cruel interest; or the long-shouting, deep-voiced little mob – still in military formation – of native soldiers on leave, rejoicing to be rid of their breeches and puttees, and saying the most outrageous things to the most respectable women in sight. Even the seller of Ganges-water he did not see, and Kim expected that he would at least buy a bottle of that precious stuff. He looked steadily at the ground, and strode as steadily hour after hour, his soul busied elsewhere. But Kim was in the seventh heaven of joy. The Grand Trunk at this point was built on an embankment to guard against winter floods from the foothills, so that one walked, as it were a little above the country, along a stately corridor, seeing all India spread out left and right. It was beautiful to behold the many-yoked grain and cotton wagons crawling over the country roads: one could hear their axles, complaining a mile away, coming nearer, till with shouts and yells and bad words they climbed up the steep incline…It was equally beautiful to watch the people, little clumps of red and blue and pink and white and saffron, turning aside to go to their own villages, dispersing and growing small by twos and threes across the level plain. Kim felt these things, though he could not give tongue to his feelings, and so contented himself with buying peeled sugarcane and spitting the pith generously about his path.
Another pleasure, related to the first, is Kipling’s exploration of the many different religions bumping against each other in India. The novel is driven by faith and spirituality, and Kipling shows a genuine interest in these, as well as a certain open-heartedness to all beliefs, as expressed in this speech from Mahbub Ali, a Pashtun horse trader and erstwhile British spy:
“Thou art beyond question an unbeliever, and therefore thou wilt be damned. So says my Law – or I think it does. But thou art also my Little Friend of all the World, and I love thee. So says my heart. This matter of creeds is like horseflesh. The wise man knows horses are good – that there is profit to be made from all; and for myself – but that I am a good Sunni and hate the men of Tirah – I could believe the same of all the Faiths. Now manifestly a Kattiawar mare taken from the sands of her birthplace and removed to the west of Bengal founders – nor is even a Balkh stallion… of any account in the great Northern deserts beside the snow-camels I have seen. Therefore I say in my heart the Faiths are like horses. Each has merit in its own country.
It’s fair to say that my main reaction is to have no strong reaction at all. As I noted above, Kim is not hard to read, with the exception of the dialogue. The dialogue is swollen by colloquialisms and local idioms, filled with obscure allusions and references (that can only be deciphered by the endnotes), and studded with enough “thees” and “thous” to sink the Mayflower. The one difficulty in Kim is figuring out what people are saying in this heavily stylized manner of speaking. Unfortunately, most of the exposition takes place in dialogue, so understanding is critical.
The real downer of Kim is its ending. The road-trip of Kim and the Lama builds to a climax and then fizzles out like a cheap sparkler. The ending is abrupt and disappointing, which would’ve meant more to me had I had more invested in the first place.
May 24, 2021
” Kim era bianco... un bianco povero fra i più poveri.”
Romanzo di formazione, di avventura, picaresco, di spionaggio e... chi più ne ha, più ne metta!
Kim è un piccolo monello rimasto orfano ed accudito da una donna oppiomane, cresce praticamente per strada.
Figlio di un sergente irlandese ed una bambinaia, il piccolo Kimball O’Hara, impara da subito ad essere veloce e scaltro per la sua sopravvivenza.
Tutti lo chiamano “Il piccolo Amico di Tutto il Mondo” e, noto, per agilità e furbizia, gli vengono affidati compiti apparentemente innocui soprattutto dal mercante di cavalli Mahbub Alì che, in realtà, è una spia assoldata dal governo britannico.
Si tratta del “Grande Gioco”: un’intricata rete di spionaggio che realmente nel corso dell’Ottocento vide fronteggiarsi Gran Bretagna e Russia per il controllo dei territori asiatici.
Kim decide di seguire un Lama, incontrato per caso, dando via, cosi, ad un susseguirsi di incontri ed avventure rocambolesche che lo porteranno ad inserirsi tra gli agenti segreti.
Attraverso un’India brulicante di personaggi variopinti, balza all’occhio la convivenza di differenti religioni mentre Kim da piccolo monello di città, dopo il suo vagabondaggio, approda ad una scuola per meticci e poi al riconoscimento del suo ruolo di spia.
Ogni passo attraverso il paese è così un nuovo traguardo alla crescita e consapevolezza di sé.
Il personaggio di Kim oggi dovremmo giudicarlo più seriamente per il suo ruolo di strumento manipolato da colonialisti britannici, eppure questa lettura si libera da queste pastoie –se vogliamo- ideologiche e se ne coglie la freschezza della gioventù in un’India frizzante così lontana dall’immagine odierna.
Insomma, senza giri di parole: io mi sono divertita.
Romanzo di formazione, di avventura, picaresco, di spionaggio e... chi più ne ha, più ne metta!
Kim è un piccolo monello rimasto orfano ed accudito da una donna oppiomane, cresce praticamente per strada.
Figlio di un sergente irlandese ed una bambinaia, il piccolo Kimball O’Hara, impara da subito ad essere veloce e scaltro per la sua sopravvivenza.
Tutti lo chiamano “Il piccolo Amico di Tutto il Mondo” e, noto, per agilità e furbizia, gli vengono affidati compiti apparentemente innocui soprattutto dal mercante di cavalli Mahbub Alì che, in realtà, è una spia assoldata dal governo britannico.
Si tratta del “Grande Gioco”: un’intricata rete di spionaggio che realmente nel corso dell’Ottocento vide fronteggiarsi Gran Bretagna e Russia per il controllo dei territori asiatici.
Kim decide di seguire un Lama, incontrato per caso, dando via, cosi, ad un susseguirsi di incontri ed avventure rocambolesche che lo porteranno ad inserirsi tra gli agenti segreti.
Attraverso un’India brulicante di personaggi variopinti, balza all’occhio la convivenza di differenti religioni mentre Kim da piccolo monello di città, dopo il suo vagabondaggio, approda ad una scuola per meticci e poi al riconoscimento del suo ruolo di spia.
Ogni passo attraverso il paese è così un nuovo traguardo alla crescita e consapevolezza di sé.
Il personaggio di Kim oggi dovremmo giudicarlo più seriamente per il suo ruolo di strumento manipolato da colonialisti britannici, eppure questa lettura si libera da queste pastoie –se vogliamo- ideologiche e se ne coglie la freschezza della gioventù in un’India frizzante così lontana dall’immagine odierna.
Insomma, senza giri di parole: io mi sono divertita.
September 18, 2015
One of the best books I've ever read, and one that I'm sure will stick with me for a long, long time. Not to say it's always an easy book. For one, it's pretty colonial-feeling, what with its fondness for dropping the n-word on anyone browner than an Englishman, its blithe references to sneaky, inconstant "orientals," and so forth - so much so that it's distracting and jarring in a few places. As a 21st century reader, it took me some mental effort to get past that casual matter-of-fact racist language, but much the same as with The Trembling of a Leaf, another colonial-era work that niggers and chinks its way through the Eastern hemisphere, I was richly rewarded for that effort. And as has been pointed out to me in the comments section of this review (and I agree after a rereading and some thought), for as much as the characters constantly mention racial stereotypes, they don't necessarily live up to them, and Kipling leaves every man or woman to be judged on his or her actions.
The greatest element of the book, the thing that propels the plot, illuminates the places, brings the other characters to life, and (most importantly) makes you care about any of it, is Kim himself. Kimball O'Hara must be one of most lovable, believable, absorbing characters in all of literature. Kipling's quintessential urchin is streetwise, smartassed, clever, courageous, with chutzpah to spare; yet unmistakably still a kid, capable of boredom, fear, and loneliness. He's also complex: for example, it's established early on in the story that Kim is not above cynically exploiting other people's religions and superstitions in order to secure himself room and board, or escape trouble, yet he frequently allows his own steps to be guided by prophecy and the supernatural. Most importantly, Kim is not static. I think one of the hardest feats for an author is to portray a child's progression to adulthood convincingly, and Kipling does an amazing job of it here.
For Kim's presence alone, this book would be well worth the read, but other storytelling treats are here for the taking, as well. For one, it's a fantastic spy thriller, set in the so-called "Great Game" played for control of India in the late 19th century. Deception, disguise, theft, secret agents, overarching plots whose true aims are hidden from those who are carrying them out - it's all here, like a slightly low-tech James Bond story.
Kim is also a fascinating depiction of a clash between religions and cultures. Without seeming to make a big deal out of it, Kim is a story of Hindus, Buddhists, Jainists, Sikhs, Muslims, and Christians rubbing shoulders with varying degrees of respect and tolerance. Characters frequently switch languages in mid-conversation, either to facilitate comprehension, underscore particular social or religious meanings, or exclude certain people. Credit here must be given to Kipling for doing a fantastic job at transliterating different accents and dialects. That's usually difficult for an author to pull off convincingly, but here it is flawlessly done. Particularly effective is when Kim and other characters switch from translated Hindi, fluent and full of thees and thous, to transliterated English that comes out like "Oah, I am verr-ee sorr-ee, Sahib," and can't help but be read with the author's intended diction and cadence.
Finally, of all the works of fiction I've read, this may be the one that portrays Buddhist ideals with the greatest clarity and beauty, and it is earnest and sensitive in its depiction of Westerners finding enlightenment through Eastern religion. In this regard, I think it even surpasses The Razor's Edge and may be rivaled only by Richard Herley's The Drowning.
I think I will feel the urge to reread this book soon, and I encourage you to read it if you haven't done so already. It's a story about friendship, loyalty, courage, and finding redemption, even when that word means different things to different people. It's smart, funny, and touching. A total classic.
The greatest element of the book, the thing that propels the plot, illuminates the places, brings the other characters to life, and (most importantly) makes you care about any of it, is Kim himself. Kimball O'Hara must be one of most lovable, believable, absorbing characters in all of literature. Kipling's quintessential urchin is streetwise, smartassed, clever, courageous, with chutzpah to spare; yet unmistakably still a kid, capable of boredom, fear, and loneliness. He's also complex: for example, it's established early on in the story that Kim is not above cynically exploiting other people's religions and superstitions in order to secure himself room and board, or escape trouble, yet he frequently allows his own steps to be guided by prophecy and the supernatural. Most importantly, Kim is not static. I think one of the hardest feats for an author is to portray a child's progression to adulthood convincingly, and Kipling does an amazing job of it here.
For Kim's presence alone, this book would be well worth the read, but other storytelling treats are here for the taking, as well. For one, it's a fantastic spy thriller, set in the so-called "Great Game" played for control of India in the late 19th century. Deception, disguise, theft, secret agents, overarching plots whose true aims are hidden from those who are carrying them out - it's all here, like a slightly low-tech James Bond story.
Kim is also a fascinating depiction of a clash between religions and cultures. Without seeming to make a big deal out of it, Kim is a story of Hindus, Buddhists, Jainists, Sikhs, Muslims, and Christians rubbing shoulders with varying degrees of respect and tolerance. Characters frequently switch languages in mid-conversation, either to facilitate comprehension, underscore particular social or religious meanings, or exclude certain people. Credit here must be given to Kipling for doing a fantastic job at transliterating different accents and dialects. That's usually difficult for an author to pull off convincingly, but here it is flawlessly done. Particularly effective is when Kim and other characters switch from translated Hindi, fluent and full of thees and thous, to transliterated English that comes out like "Oah, I am verr-ee sorr-ee, Sahib," and can't help but be read with the author's intended diction and cadence.
Finally, of all the works of fiction I've read, this may be the one that portrays Buddhist ideals with the greatest clarity and beauty, and it is earnest and sensitive in its depiction of Westerners finding enlightenment through Eastern religion. In this regard, I think it even surpasses The Razor's Edge and may be rivaled only by Richard Herley's The Drowning.
I think I will feel the urge to reread this book soon, and I encourage you to read it if you haven't done so already. It's a story about friendship, loyalty, courage, and finding redemption, even when that word means different things to different people. It's smart, funny, and touching. A total classic.
March 17, 2016
“We'd go down to the river
And into the river we'd dive
Oh down to the river we'd ride”
That’s Bruce Springsteen, not Rudyard Kipling. All the mentions of The River just reminds me of this song.
So Kim is all about the adventures of a young Irish boy, Kimball O'Hara, in British colonial India. Kim starts off as a Tom Sawyer-ish, or Bart Simpson-esq, little scamp. One day he encounters an elderly Tibetan Lama and volunteers to become his disciple in order to go adventuring on the monk’s pilgrimage in his quest for the mystical River of the Arrow. En route he encounters British, Russian and French spies, and decides to become one himself (for the Brits of course); to participate in “the Great Game” (of espionage).
Ooh, I dunno about this. I like the colorful characters of Kim, the Lama, and the various spies. I am particularly intrigued by the Lama, is he a true mystic or just an old loony? I really like the cosmic and somewhat ambiguous ending, it’s like, totally Woodstock man! My slight problem with Kim, the book, not the character, is that—as a Boy’s Own adventure—it’s a bit boring really. Sorry. The espionage side of it really falls flat for me. I was not expecting Kim to order martinis, shaken but not stirred, race around in a Ferrari that morphs into a submarine, or have it off with tons of supermodelly girls in formal gowns. No, I did not expect all that, but what I did get was not all that (apologies to my grammar sensei, Cecily, for this appalling sentence). As a spy thriller Kim just did not thrill me, my eyebrows remain disappointingly unelevated throughout.
On the other hand, the philosophical side of Kim is very interesting. His crisis of identity and his eventual coming to terms with his duality is thought provoking stuff. I also admire how Kipling portrays the Lama’s pacifist nature and his vague mystical ramblings are interesting and often humorous. His angst at almost wanting to punch someone is adorable.
At the end of the day, on the whole, when push comes to shove, to cut a long story short, without beating around the bush, or barking up the wrong tree, or cutting off my nose to spite my face, I kinda like this book. I think.
______________________
Note
Librivox Audiobook very nicely read by Adrian Praetzellis. Thank you!
And into the river we'd dive
Oh down to the river we'd ride”
That’s Bruce Springsteen, not Rudyard Kipling. All the mentions of The River just reminds me of this song.
So Kim is all about the adventures of a young Irish boy, Kimball O'Hara, in British colonial India. Kim starts off as a Tom Sawyer-ish, or Bart Simpson-esq, little scamp. One day he encounters an elderly Tibetan Lama and volunteers to become his disciple in order to go adventuring on the monk’s pilgrimage in his quest for the mystical River of the Arrow. En route he encounters British, Russian and French spies, and decides to become one himself (for the Brits of course); to participate in “the Great Game” (of espionage).
Ooh, I dunno about this. I like the colorful characters of Kim, the Lama, and the various spies. I am particularly intrigued by the Lama, is he a true mystic or just an old loony? I really like the cosmic and somewhat ambiguous ending, it’s like, totally Woodstock man! My slight problem with Kim, the book, not the character, is that—as a Boy’s Own adventure—it’s a bit boring really. Sorry. The espionage side of it really falls flat for me. I was not expecting Kim to order martinis, shaken but not stirred, race around in a Ferrari that morphs into a submarine, or have it off with tons of supermodelly girls in formal gowns. No, I did not expect all that, but what I did get was not all that (apologies to my grammar sensei, Cecily, for this appalling sentence). As a spy thriller Kim just did not thrill me, my eyebrows remain disappointingly unelevated throughout.
On the other hand, the philosophical side of Kim is very interesting. His crisis of identity and his eventual coming to terms with his duality is thought provoking stuff. I also admire how Kipling portrays the Lama’s pacifist nature and his vague mystical ramblings are interesting and often humorous. His angst at almost wanting to punch someone is adorable.
At the end of the day, on the whole, when push comes to shove, to cut a long story short, without beating around the bush, or barking up the wrong tree, or cutting off my nose to spite my face, I kinda like this book. I think.
______________________
Note
Librivox Audiobook very nicely read by Adrian Praetzellis. Thank you!
October 18, 2022
Kim is the classic by Rudyard Kipling about the young orphaned Kimball O'Hara, the son of an Irish regimental soldier living in British India in the late nineteenth century with the backdrop being the colonialism in British India with the tensions beginning to be felt between the many European powers in Asia. Young Kim has an encounter with a Buddhist monk from Tibet and he becomes so taken with his quest for enlightenment that he volunteers to become the lama's chela or disciple and follows him on his quest. This was quite a book that gives one an idea of what it was to live in nineteenth-century British India and its many castes. The fact that Rudyard Kipling was a gifted poet certainly shines throughout the pages.
". . . All castes and kinds of men move here."
"'Look! Brahmins and chumars, bankers and tinkers, barbers and bunnias, pilgrims and potters--all the world going and coming. It is to me as a river from which I am withdrawn like a log after a flood.'"
"And truly the Grand Trunk Road is a wonderful spectacle. It runs straight, bearing without crowding India's traffic for fifteen hundred miles--such a river of life as nowhere else exists in the world. They looked at the green-arched, shade-flecked length of it, the white breadth speckled with slow-pacing folk; and the two-roomed police station opposite."
"'Now let us walk,' muttered the lama, and to the click of his rosary they walked in silence mile upon mile. The lama as usual, was deep in meditation, but Kim's bright eyes were open wide. This broad, smiling river of life, he considered, was a vast improvement on the cramped and crowded Lahore streets. There were new people and new sights at every stride--castes he knew and castes that were altogether out of his experience."
May 15, 2023
My wife made me read this for her birthday, because I had bought so many editions of it at library sales without reading it beforehand. (I have a book-buying problem.) I think she was pleased (or felt vindicated) by the fact that I disliked it. Kim is a lesser “classic.” It is not written well, and the story is lackluster.
“I am very poor. My father is dead—my mother is dead. O charitable ones, if I am left here, who shall tend that old man?” (p. 78)
On a page-by-page basis, I was completely confused—unhappily lost in the details and bad writing. I could only get a broad sense of what was going on: Kim, a poor White orphan, became the disciple of a holy man from Tibet, and they went looking for a river of healing (one that would cleanse sin). Kim had a prophecy of a red bull on a green field. On their journey, Kim and the holy man spared a cobra and then encounter the regiment of Kim’s father. (His father was a solider.) Kim predicted what would happen to the regiment. The regiment sent Kim to school, the holy man paid for it, and Kim eventually started doing government business (e.g., investigating the Russians). At one point, a Russian punched the holy man.
One of the main problems with the novel was that the writing style made it difficult to follow along, even within single paragraphs. Indeed, there were countless paragraphs that I reread multiple times without understanding them. Here are two examples:
Example Paragraph #1
“What need? I have told thee many times we but two souls seeking escape. He said—and he is just herein—that the River of Healing will break forth even as I dreamed—at my feet, if need be. Having found the Way, seest thou, that shall free me from the Wheel, need I trouble to find a way about the mere fields of earth—which are illusion? That were senseless. I have my dreams, night upon night repeated; I have the Jataka; and I have thee, Friend of all the World. It was written in thy horoscope that a Red Bull on a green field—I have not forgotten—should bring thee to honour. Who but I saw that prophecy accomplished? Indeed, I was the instrument. Thou shalt find me my River, being in return the instrument. The Search is sure!” (p. 277)
Example Paragraph #2
“Till the dawn, hour after hour, as the moonlight paled on the high peaks, and that which had been belted blackness on the sides of the far hills showed as tender green forest, the lama stared fixedly at the wall. From time to time he groaned. Outside the barred door, where discomfited kine came to ask for their old stable, Shamlegh and the coolies gave itself up to plunder and riotous living. The Ao-chung man was their leader, and once they had opened the Sahibs’ tinned foods and found that they were very good they dared not turn back. Shamlegh kitchen-midden took the dunnage.” (p. 302)
“I am very poor. My father is dead—my mother is dead. O charitable ones, if I am left here, who shall tend that old man?” (p. 78)
On a page-by-page basis, I was completely confused—unhappily lost in the details and bad writing. I could only get a broad sense of what was going on: Kim, a poor White orphan, became the disciple of a holy man from Tibet, and they went looking for a river of healing (one that would cleanse sin). Kim had a prophecy of a red bull on a green field. On their journey, Kim and the holy man spared a cobra and then encounter the regiment of Kim’s father. (His father was a solider.) Kim predicted what would happen to the regiment. The regiment sent Kim to school, the holy man paid for it, and Kim eventually started doing government business (e.g., investigating the Russians). At one point, a Russian punched the holy man.
One of the main problems with the novel was that the writing style made it difficult to follow along, even within single paragraphs. Indeed, there were countless paragraphs that I reread multiple times without understanding them. Here are two examples:
Example Paragraph #1
“What need? I have told thee many times we but two souls seeking escape. He said—and he is just herein—that the River of Healing will break forth even as I dreamed—at my feet, if need be. Having found the Way, seest thou, that shall free me from the Wheel, need I trouble to find a way about the mere fields of earth—which are illusion? That were senseless. I have my dreams, night upon night repeated; I have the Jataka; and I have thee, Friend of all the World. It was written in thy horoscope that a Red Bull on a green field—I have not forgotten—should bring thee to honour. Who but I saw that prophecy accomplished? Indeed, I was the instrument. Thou shalt find me my River, being in return the instrument. The Search is sure!” (p. 277)
Example Paragraph #2
“Till the dawn, hour after hour, as the moonlight paled on the high peaks, and that which had been belted blackness on the sides of the far hills showed as tender green forest, the lama stared fixedly at the wall. From time to time he groaned. Outside the barred door, where discomfited kine came to ask for their old stable, Shamlegh and the coolies gave itself up to plunder and riotous living. The Ao-chung man was their leader, and once they had opened the Sahibs’ tinned foods and found that they were very good they dared not turn back. Shamlegh kitchen-midden took the dunnage.” (p. 302)
September 4, 2013
As I said of another classic adventure story of The Great Game, the East is a fantasy. This is not only true for writers like Mundy, who experienced it as an outsider, or Howard, who experienced it only through books--it's also true for those who, like Kipling, were born and raised there.
Indeed, many of our most cherished fantasies tend to relate to the place we were born--when we find ourselves defending it, or singing its praises. It's not that the details we give aren't true, it's that we have a sort of rosy-quartz view about the place that made us. It also comes out in what we dislike about our home, what tired and frustrated us--there is a whole mythology within us of what exactly we believe our provenance to be like, and it is more the truth of us than the truth of that place.
Kipling's Kim is often considered his greatest work, and as Said's introduction notes, it is one of his only works that profits from close reading. His others are certainly enjoyable, and have certain themes, but tend to wear these on the chest, while Kim presents a rather more complex relationship.
Of course, there was an uproar when it was announced that the Penguin edition would feature an introduction from Said, but as someone who has actually read his work, I was not concerned he would do Kipling wrong. Indeed, his treatment is even-handed, noting both the strengths and flaws of the text, and bringing together many interesting observations from other sources.
It is a boys' club book, about the doings of men in their 'Great Game' of death and deceit. Of women there are two: a whore and a mother figure, and neither one strays beyond the bounds of her given role. Indeed, this book was one of the inspirations for the creation of the Boy Scouts, after the romantic adventure of Kipling's young fellow.
It's also certainly a tale of privilege, as of course, that is the role Kipling himself was born into: of being free from social constraints, on the top of the heap, able to go where and when he liked, and in whatever guise, for there was none to gainsay him.
But beyond these bounds, it is certainly a wondrous and vivid tale, full of color and character, all those little details and curious turns of phrase that make a good adventure. Indeed, there is much more of the fantastical in this than in many adventure books--magic and mysticism have central roles, as do cultural dissonance, even if Kipling ultimately ignores the great and central conflict which first showed itself in the Sepoy Uprising, and grew to eventual fruition in Gandhi and at last, independence.
Rarely have I seen the Other and the defamiliarization of ideas portrayed so wholly, particularly in a colonial work--and if Kipling had used these strengths to tackle the great central conflict that looms over all, the work would have been truly profound.
The relationship between Kim and the Lama is the crux here, the deep and genuine friendship between stereotypically Eastern and Western figures, which crosses boundaries of faith, philosophy, race, and language, seeking ever for mutual ground and further understanding. Yet that the old man is a fool, and that Kim ultimately tricks him, secretly committing himself to the colonial role while paying outward respect is unfortunate.
There is a conflict between the two, but it is never allowed to come to the surface, it is never confronted and dealt with. Instead, the hope seems to be that if two disparate people can agree on the surface, that the fundamental contention between them is not worth exploring--when indeed, its usually the only thing that is, especially for a novelist, whose work is to drive to the heart of the matter.
But then, as Said points out, it was a conflict that Kipling did not see, or did not want to see, and in the end, it weakens the tale. Kim is not really answerable to the people he claims to serve, and as he tries to work for them in secret, he really serves himself. The condescension of 'knowing better' and with that excuse, keeping others in the dark is perhaps The Great Sin of governance.
But for that, it is an exciting tale, a thorough and palpable exploration of India and its people, as Kipling saw them, and brings to mind many important questions of the colonial role, Indiamania vs. Indiaphobia, and what it means to find yourself between cultures. If only Kipling had delved a bit more.
Indeed, many of our most cherished fantasies tend to relate to the place we were born--when we find ourselves defending it, or singing its praises. It's not that the details we give aren't true, it's that we have a sort of rosy-quartz view about the place that made us. It also comes out in what we dislike about our home, what tired and frustrated us--there is a whole mythology within us of what exactly we believe our provenance to be like, and it is more the truth of us than the truth of that place.
Kipling's Kim is often considered his greatest work, and as Said's introduction notes, it is one of his only works that profits from close reading. His others are certainly enjoyable, and have certain themes, but tend to wear these on the chest, while Kim presents a rather more complex relationship.
Of course, there was an uproar when it was announced that the Penguin edition would feature an introduction from Said, but as someone who has actually read his work, I was not concerned he would do Kipling wrong. Indeed, his treatment is even-handed, noting both the strengths and flaws of the text, and bringing together many interesting observations from other sources.
It is a boys' club book, about the doings of men in their 'Great Game' of death and deceit. Of women there are two: a whore and a mother figure, and neither one strays beyond the bounds of her given role. Indeed, this book was one of the inspirations for the creation of the Boy Scouts, after the romantic adventure of Kipling's young fellow.
It's also certainly a tale of privilege, as of course, that is the role Kipling himself was born into: of being free from social constraints, on the top of the heap, able to go where and when he liked, and in whatever guise, for there was none to gainsay him.
But beyond these bounds, it is certainly a wondrous and vivid tale, full of color and character, all those little details and curious turns of phrase that make a good adventure. Indeed, there is much more of the fantastical in this than in many adventure books--magic and mysticism have central roles, as do cultural dissonance, even if Kipling ultimately ignores the great and central conflict which first showed itself in the Sepoy Uprising, and grew to eventual fruition in Gandhi and at last, independence.
Rarely have I seen the Other and the defamiliarization of ideas portrayed so wholly, particularly in a colonial work--and if Kipling had used these strengths to tackle the great central conflict that looms over all, the work would have been truly profound.
The relationship between Kim and the Lama is the crux here, the deep and genuine friendship between stereotypically Eastern and Western figures, which crosses boundaries of faith, philosophy, race, and language, seeking ever for mutual ground and further understanding. Yet that the old man is a fool, and that Kim ultimately tricks him, secretly committing himself to the colonial role while paying outward respect is unfortunate.
There is a conflict between the two, but it is never allowed to come to the surface, it is never confronted and dealt with. Instead, the hope seems to be that if two disparate people can agree on the surface, that the fundamental contention between them is not worth exploring--when indeed, its usually the only thing that is, especially for a novelist, whose work is to drive to the heart of the matter.
But then, as Said points out, it was a conflict that Kipling did not see, or did not want to see, and in the end, it weakens the tale. Kim is not really answerable to the people he claims to serve, and as he tries to work for them in secret, he really serves himself. The condescension of 'knowing better' and with that excuse, keeping others in the dark is perhaps The Great Sin of governance.
But for that, it is an exciting tale, a thorough and palpable exploration of India and its people, as Kipling saw them, and brings to mind many important questions of the colonial role, Indiamania vs. Indiaphobia, and what it means to find yourself between cultures. If only Kipling had delved a bit more.
March 31, 2021
Kim is Kipling's love letter to India. Written just as he was leaving, Kim unveils all the wonders of the Subcontinent: the colours, the smells, the people, the languages, the different religions. A more colourful Babylon.
It's not entirely kosher, of course. Much has been written on Kipling's racism, and no doubt there are racist elements in this book. In many ways, this colourful, beautiful India likely only exists as a white man's fantasy. The images are tinged by Kipling's own imagination. They emerge as a result of his prejudices and preferences, but also of his desire to mould India to his own image of what it should be. The quality of the story and the writing aren't diminished, but Kim is, fundamentally, a construction of a place that exists only in Kipling's mind.
As for the story, Kim can be seen as a Mowgli who grew up in the city. Child of poor white parents, an orphan raised in the streets of Lahore, smart as a whip, and with as much gall and cheekiness as Gavroche, he's an impossible-not-to-love character. His relationship with the buddhist lama is moving, and clearly sets the model for the odd companions trope.
There's nothing to dislike about this novel. The language can be hard, but rewarding. There's real humour in some parts, adventure and emotion. It's everything you'd want to read, everything a writer could aspire to write.
It's not entirely kosher, of course. Much has been written on Kipling's racism, and no doubt there are racist elements in this book. In many ways, this colourful, beautiful India likely only exists as a white man's fantasy. The images are tinged by Kipling's own imagination. They emerge as a result of his prejudices and preferences, but also of his desire to mould India to his own image of what it should be. The quality of the story and the writing aren't diminished, but Kim is, fundamentally, a construction of a place that exists only in Kipling's mind.
As for the story, Kim can be seen as a Mowgli who grew up in the city. Child of poor white parents, an orphan raised in the streets of Lahore, smart as a whip, and with as much gall and cheekiness as Gavroche, he's an impossible-not-to-love character. His relationship with the buddhist lama is moving, and clearly sets the model for the odd companions trope.
There's nothing to dislike about this novel. The language can be hard, but rewarding. There's real humour in some parts, adventure and emotion. It's everything you'd want to read, everything a writer could aspire to write.
April 24, 2021
A ripping yarn. One of my dad’s favourite books. Although I had seen the old film a few times this was another book unread. I found the film following the storyline fairly well albeit that Errol Flynn ( Mahbub Ali) had less of a role in the book. The relationship between Kim and the lama is so well written. The book ending is better than the films. The story of a young Indian boy with an English soldier father working as a spy in the 1890’s is real Boys Own material. Loved it
February 14, 2023
#Retovictorianspirits de la cuenta @victorianspiritsblog, premisa "Un libro ambientado en la India".
Publicado en 1901, “Kim” narra las aventuras de un pícaro huérfano que se cria en las calles de la ciudad de Lahore (actual Pakistan) en pleno periodo de la India Colonial. Aunque a primera vista pueda parecer un chaval indio más, Kim en realidad es un Sahib por nacimiento, hijo de un soldado irlandés. Y para más inri sobre su persona pesa, desde su nacimiento, una profecía que le pronostica un gran destino marcado por la guerra. El cual parece llegarle cuando se convierte en el Chela (discípulo) de un Lama que busca un río místico que le lleve a la iluminación eterna. Durante su peregrinaje por toda la India, Kim entrara en contacto con su herencia anglosajona y se convertirá en una pieza de El Gran Juego, la rivalidad soterrada entre los imperios britanico y ruso en su lucha por el control de Asia Central y el Cáucaso.
Le pongo una puntuación de tres estrellas, pero en realidad para mi la nota sería de un 2,7. Si hay algo que ha caracterizado la lectura de “Kim” ha sido lo densa que se me ha hecho en muchos momentos, especialmente en su tramo final. Y lo terriblemente contradictoria que me ha resultado este primer acercamiento a la prosa del premio Nobel Rudyard Kipling . Hay muchas pequeñas cosas que no han terminado de agradarme, pero a las que se le contrapone una única cosa que me ha gustado mucho (que no la única que me ha gustado, todo hay que decirlo) y que para mí ha sido lo más disfrutable de este libro.
Lo primero por lo que quiero empezar es por lo que me ha gustado: no puedo ponerle muchos peros a Kipling como narrador. Su prosa es muy vivaz y amena, con un gran e innegable encanto. Si hay algo que me ha sorprendido mucho de esta lectura ha sido su excelente pulso narrativo y lo rápido que se avanza con esta lectura, que no en pocas ocasiones resulta bastante agradable. Cuando he querido darme cuenta me encontraba por la mitad del libro, y la mayoría de las veces que lo he cogido me he tragado muchas páginas sin darme cuenta. El ritmo es bastante pausado, pero no es para nada lento. De ahí que sea una lectura bastante agradable. Pero si hay algo que me ha enamorado totalmente de este libro ha sido la manera en que su autor nos introduce en el mundo de la India. Tanto en lo que supone el control británico durante la época colonial, como en lo que son sus costumbres y su forma de vida. Kipling logra transportar al lector a una cultura fascinante y compleja, de forma que éste se siente como si estuviera ahí en ese mismo momento, con los colores ganando vida ante tus ojos y los olores inundandote la nariz. La india es un mundo que contiene mil y un microcosmos, muy diferentes unos de otros, y eso Kipling lo capta a la perfección de una forma totalmente vivida. Es maravilloso ver la gran cantidad de gente tan variopinta en cuanto a costumbres, religiones y forma de vida que puedes encontrarte en un solo tramo del camino. O en un vagón de tren. Todo el libro es un canto a la belleza y a la diversidad de la India, con unas descripciones absolutamente gráficas de los lugares que Kipling debió de conocer, que son muy sutiles y no resultan para nada pesadas o cansadas.
Obviamente hay una cuestión que, irremediablemente, sobrevuela al lector moderno al leer la obra de Rudyard Kipling. ¿Qué el autor trata con mucho paternalismo a la India bajo el periodo colonial? Pues no lo vamos a negar, porque es que es así.Es un paternalismo y condescendencia que en la época de Kipling podría ser visto como tolerable e incluso muy avanzado, pero que en la actualidad raya lo que es el racismo. Sí, Kipling defendía sin ningún tipo de cortapisas una India que estuviera gobernada por la raza blanca, superior moral e intelectualmente a la autóctona del gran país, ya que al final esto repercutía en el propio bien de los Indios. Eso si, era tan majo (nótese la ironía) que defendía que quienes ostentarán la autoridad deberían conocer bien el lugar, sus leyes y tradiciones, y respetarlos. Al buen hombre la idea de que los indios quisieran recuperar su independencia y gobernarse por sí mismos no se le pasaba, ni tan siquiera, por la cabeza. No voy a negar que esa condescendencia a veces me ponía de mal humor, especialmente cuando veía que los más avispados e inteligentes de la novela eran precisamente los Sahib occidentales, y que a los indios se les veía desde un prisma de indulgencia racial absoluta que, a veces, rozaba la mofa amable. Y tampoco voy a negar que me da un poco de rabia que esto provenga de un escritor que nació y pasó buena parte de su vida en la propia India. Quizás, inocente de mí, me esperaba un poquito más de autocrítica hacia el gobierno británico. Pero esto solo fue una pequeña parte de mí. Anteriormente ya había suficientes cosas para saber que esperarme de Kipling. Y no sé si será por eso que, aunque pueda ser critica con la situación, tampoco me haya escandalizado tanto lo que me he encontrado. Nos guste o no, “Kim”y su creador, Kipling, son productos de una forma más de ver y de sentir, de una época en la que Gran Bretaña era la mayor potencia mundial. Es muy fácil verlo, al calor de la actualidad, con rechazo, y ver claramente lo injusto que es que que un país dominase al otro, y las innegables crueldades y opresión que eso conllevaba. Pero para Kipling, al igual que para muchos (la mayoría) de sus coetáneos, que los indios estuvieran bajo el control y cuidado paternal de los ingleses, y que estos tuvieran el derecho a expandir su territorio por donde considerasen oportuno, era algo tan natural como respirar, no se replanteaban otra cosa. Así que no se puede esperar nada más de esta lectura.
Quizás donde mejor se pueda ver esto es en el personaje del protagonista, el joven Kim. No voy a negar que es un personaje que, lo quieras o no, acaba haciéndose simpático al lector por lo espabilado que es y por la evolución notoria que tiene a lo largo de la historia. Su relación con el Lama me ha parecido muy entrañable, algunos de los momentos que han tenido juntos han sido lo más cerca que estado esta novela de lograr conmoverme. Pero al mismo tiempo hay algo irritante en Kim. Es el hecho de que siempre logre caer de pies en cualquier situación, que siempre sepa desenvolverse con gran soltura en todo momento y que sea, por así decirlo, una especie de elegido del destino para llevar a cabo grandes hazañas (recordemos que desde que nació hay una profecía que le destina a eso) . Todo eso es algo que me ha parecido muy anticlimático y poco creíble, que deshumaniza a un personaje que, por otra parte, no está mal construido. Como el hecho de que consiga ganarse el corazón de todos aquellos a los que conoce, y que acabe convirtiéndose, de la noche a la mañana y casi sin pretenderlo, en una pieza que se pronostica como esencial para el llamado Gran Juego. Todo esto lo convierte en una suerte de representación del hombre blanco, que tiene el deber de hacer grandes cosas por el resto del mundo y que es, como no, más inteligente, ingenioso y hábil que cualquier otro tipo de raza. Y el bueno de Kim es tan varonil que no siente ni el más mínimo interés por las mujeres, de hecho, que todas estén todo el rato detrás de él es más un incordio que otra cosa para el pobre muchacho (a todo esto, como no, la representación femenina en el libro es prácticamente nula. Solo hay tres personajes femeninos destacados, y tampoco es que tengan en la trama mayor peso que el de ayudar a nuestro protagonista).Suerte que Kipling tuvo el buen ojo de darle escenas en las que duda de sí mismo, se establece un vínculo entrañable entre él y su Lama, y darle algún que otro momento de debilidad. Gracias a esto el personaje gana en realismo y también en matices.
Pero para mi el gran pero de esta novela ha sido que me ha faltado una trama bien definida en la misma. A ver, haberla la hay, pues hay dos frentes abiertos en la misma (el peregrinaje de Kim y el Lama por la India y la participación de Kim en el Gran Juego). Pero durante toda la lectura me ha parecido que la narración no dejaba de ser una mera consecución de sucesos y encuentros aleatorios, que parecían surgir a la azar a medida que Kim iba de un sitio para otro. Lo que me ha faltado totalmente a esta novela es ver que propósito literario tenía, saber lo que buscaba Kipling con ella. No acabo de encontrarle el sentido a todo lo que pasaba, a parte de ser una clara obra de iniciación sobre el personaje que la daba nombre. Y por eso me ha dejado bastante fría. Creo que tampoco me ha ayudado el que tuviera una idea muy distintas sobre ella. Me esperaba encontrar más acción y más escenas de espionaje, que el Gran Juego tuviera más peso en la trama. No quiero decir que sea un tema secundario, ni mucho menos. Solo que me ha dado la impresión que todos los relacionado con la búsqueda del río místico y las enseñanzas de corte Budico han sido el auténtico motor central de toda la novela. Para mi el Gran Juego ha sido una mera excusa para darle más vidilla e interés a toda la novela.
Por otra parte, he tenido la gran suerte de poder manejar la edición que has sacado el sello de Penguin clásicos. Y digo suerte porque la traducción está muy conseguida y es muy fácil y agradable de leer. Además, el texto viene acompañado de un prólogo muy interesante realizado por un reputado estudioso del periodo colonial, que resulta muy interesante y de lo más esclarecedor de leer después de haber terminado lo que es la novela. A mí personalmente me ha ayudado muchísimo a entender mejor lo que había leído. Pero tengo que decir que lo que más he valorado es que, por suerte, en la edición habia una gran cantidad de notas que explicaban diferentes conceptos de la cultura India en todas sus vertientes que podían resultar extraños o desconocidos al lector moderno. Y digo suerte también porque me imagino la lectura sin estas notas como una travesía por el desierto sin una sola gota de agua. Si la obra no hubiera tenido estas notas y hubiera venido sin ninguna explicación, estoy convencida de que hubiera abandonado la lectura a las veinte primeras páginas. Pero al mismo tiempo, he tenido un enorme problema con ellas: todas estaban al final del libro. Os juro que no hay nada que más odie que las notas al final del libro, me parece la cosa más farragosa del mundo. El tener que ir hacia atrás todo el rato (prácticamente en cada página había algo nuevo que ir a mirar hacia la parte final del libro) y buscar cuál era la página donde se encontraba la explicación pertinente, creo que ha hecho que la lectura se me hiciese más densa y mucho más lenta.
En resumidas cuentas, “Kim” es un excelente qué cuadro sobre la época India durante la dominación colonial por parte de Gran Bretaña, un periodo muy fecundo para la literatura y la historia de ambas naciones. Es una obra que, me temo, ha envejecido bastante mal, pero no por ello resulta menos interesante de leer, ya que logra actuar como una suerte de documento histórico. Aunque solo sea por ver como los ingleses ven veía el gobierno sobre los indios. Además, es la clara muestra de que un libro puede estar muy bien escrito, pero si algo falla en su trama o en sus personajes es que falta algo que realmente impacte al lector. Por lo que todo esto seguramente no sirva de mucho. Por más que, como se dicho antes, sea un canto a la belleza y a la diversidad de ese mundo que tan fascinante y variado que es la India, y que nos interesa a no pocas personas. No dudo que esta no sea la última vez que me encuentre las caras con Kipling, pero espero que la próxima logre emocionarme algo más.
Publicado en 1901, “Kim” narra las aventuras de un pícaro huérfano que se cria en las calles de la ciudad de Lahore (actual Pakistan) en pleno periodo de la India Colonial. Aunque a primera vista pueda parecer un chaval indio más, Kim en realidad es un Sahib por nacimiento, hijo de un soldado irlandés. Y para más inri sobre su persona pesa, desde su nacimiento, una profecía que le pronostica un gran destino marcado por la guerra. El cual parece llegarle cuando se convierte en el Chela (discípulo) de un Lama que busca un río místico que le lleve a la iluminación eterna. Durante su peregrinaje por toda la India, Kim entrara en contacto con su herencia anglosajona y se convertirá en una pieza de El Gran Juego, la rivalidad soterrada entre los imperios britanico y ruso en su lucha por el control de Asia Central y el Cáucaso.
Le pongo una puntuación de tres estrellas, pero en realidad para mi la nota sería de un 2,7. Si hay algo que ha caracterizado la lectura de “Kim” ha sido lo densa que se me ha hecho en muchos momentos, especialmente en su tramo final. Y lo terriblemente contradictoria que me ha resultado este primer acercamiento a la prosa del premio Nobel Rudyard Kipling . Hay muchas pequeñas cosas que no han terminado de agradarme, pero a las que se le contrapone una única cosa que me ha gustado mucho (que no la única que me ha gustado, todo hay que decirlo) y que para mí ha sido lo más disfrutable de este libro.
Lo primero por lo que quiero empezar es por lo que me ha gustado: no puedo ponerle muchos peros a Kipling como narrador. Su prosa es muy vivaz y amena, con un gran e innegable encanto. Si hay algo que me ha sorprendido mucho de esta lectura ha sido su excelente pulso narrativo y lo rápido que se avanza con esta lectura, que no en pocas ocasiones resulta bastante agradable. Cuando he querido darme cuenta me encontraba por la mitad del libro, y la mayoría de las veces que lo he cogido me he tragado muchas páginas sin darme cuenta. El ritmo es bastante pausado, pero no es para nada lento. De ahí que sea una lectura bastante agradable. Pero si hay algo que me ha enamorado totalmente de este libro ha sido la manera en que su autor nos introduce en el mundo de la India. Tanto en lo que supone el control británico durante la época colonial, como en lo que son sus costumbres y su forma de vida. Kipling logra transportar al lector a una cultura fascinante y compleja, de forma que éste se siente como si estuviera ahí en ese mismo momento, con los colores ganando vida ante tus ojos y los olores inundandote la nariz. La india es un mundo que contiene mil y un microcosmos, muy diferentes unos de otros, y eso Kipling lo capta a la perfección de una forma totalmente vivida. Es maravilloso ver la gran cantidad de gente tan variopinta en cuanto a costumbres, religiones y forma de vida que puedes encontrarte en un solo tramo del camino. O en un vagón de tren. Todo el libro es un canto a la belleza y a la diversidad de la India, con unas descripciones absolutamente gráficas de los lugares que Kipling debió de conocer, que son muy sutiles y no resultan para nada pesadas o cansadas.
Obviamente hay una cuestión que, irremediablemente, sobrevuela al lector moderno al leer la obra de Rudyard Kipling. ¿Qué el autor trata con mucho paternalismo a la India bajo el periodo colonial? Pues no lo vamos a negar, porque es que es así.Es un paternalismo y condescendencia que en la época de Kipling podría ser visto como tolerable e incluso muy avanzado, pero que en la actualidad raya lo que es el racismo. Sí, Kipling defendía sin ningún tipo de cortapisas una India que estuviera gobernada por la raza blanca, superior moral e intelectualmente a la autóctona del gran país, ya que al final esto repercutía en el propio bien de los Indios. Eso si, era tan majo (nótese la ironía) que defendía que quienes ostentarán la autoridad deberían conocer bien el lugar, sus leyes y tradiciones, y respetarlos. Al buen hombre la idea de que los indios quisieran recuperar su independencia y gobernarse por sí mismos no se le pasaba, ni tan siquiera, por la cabeza. No voy a negar que esa condescendencia a veces me ponía de mal humor, especialmente cuando veía que los más avispados e inteligentes de la novela eran precisamente los Sahib occidentales, y que a los indios se les veía desde un prisma de indulgencia racial absoluta que, a veces, rozaba la mofa amable. Y tampoco voy a negar que me da un poco de rabia que esto provenga de un escritor que nació y pasó buena parte de su vida en la propia India. Quizás, inocente de mí, me esperaba un poquito más de autocrítica hacia el gobierno británico. Pero esto solo fue una pequeña parte de mí. Anteriormente ya había suficientes cosas para saber que esperarme de Kipling. Y no sé si será por eso que, aunque pueda ser critica con la situación, tampoco me haya escandalizado tanto lo que me he encontrado. Nos guste o no, “Kim”y su creador, Kipling, son productos de una forma más de ver y de sentir, de una época en la que Gran Bretaña era la mayor potencia mundial. Es muy fácil verlo, al calor de la actualidad, con rechazo, y ver claramente lo injusto que es que que un país dominase al otro, y las innegables crueldades y opresión que eso conllevaba. Pero para Kipling, al igual que para muchos (la mayoría) de sus coetáneos, que los indios estuvieran bajo el control y cuidado paternal de los ingleses, y que estos tuvieran el derecho a expandir su territorio por donde considerasen oportuno, era algo tan natural como respirar, no se replanteaban otra cosa. Así que no se puede esperar nada más de esta lectura.
Quizás donde mejor se pueda ver esto es en el personaje del protagonista, el joven Kim. No voy a negar que es un personaje que, lo quieras o no, acaba haciéndose simpático al lector por lo espabilado que es y por la evolución notoria que tiene a lo largo de la historia. Su relación con el Lama me ha parecido muy entrañable, algunos de los momentos que han tenido juntos han sido lo más cerca que estado esta novela de lograr conmoverme. Pero al mismo tiempo hay algo irritante en Kim. Es el hecho de que siempre logre caer de pies en cualquier situación, que siempre sepa desenvolverse con gran soltura en todo momento y que sea, por así decirlo, una especie de elegido del destino para llevar a cabo grandes hazañas (recordemos que desde que nació hay una profecía que le destina a eso) . Todo eso es algo que me ha parecido muy anticlimático y poco creíble, que deshumaniza a un personaje que, por otra parte, no está mal construido. Como el hecho de que consiga ganarse el corazón de todos aquellos a los que conoce, y que acabe convirtiéndose, de la noche a la mañana y casi sin pretenderlo, en una pieza que se pronostica como esencial para el llamado Gran Juego. Todo esto lo convierte en una suerte de representación del hombre blanco, que tiene el deber de hacer grandes cosas por el resto del mundo y que es, como no, más inteligente, ingenioso y hábil que cualquier otro tipo de raza. Y el bueno de Kim es tan varonil que no siente ni el más mínimo interés por las mujeres, de hecho, que todas estén todo el rato detrás de él es más un incordio que otra cosa para el pobre muchacho (a todo esto, como no, la representación femenina en el libro es prácticamente nula. Solo hay tres personajes femeninos destacados, y tampoco es que tengan en la trama mayor peso que el de ayudar a nuestro protagonista).Suerte que Kipling tuvo el buen ojo de darle escenas en las que duda de sí mismo, se establece un vínculo entrañable entre él y su Lama, y darle algún que otro momento de debilidad. Gracias a esto el personaje gana en realismo y también en matices.
Pero para mi el gran pero de esta novela ha sido que me ha faltado una trama bien definida en la misma. A ver, haberla la hay, pues hay dos frentes abiertos en la misma (el peregrinaje de Kim y el Lama por la India y la participación de Kim en el Gran Juego). Pero durante toda la lectura me ha parecido que la narración no dejaba de ser una mera consecución de sucesos y encuentros aleatorios, que parecían surgir a la azar a medida que Kim iba de un sitio para otro. Lo que me ha faltado totalmente a esta novela es ver que propósito literario tenía, saber lo que buscaba Kipling con ella. No acabo de encontrarle el sentido a todo lo que pasaba, a parte de ser una clara obra de iniciación sobre el personaje que la daba nombre. Y por eso me ha dejado bastante fría. Creo que tampoco me ha ayudado el que tuviera una idea muy distintas sobre ella. Me esperaba encontrar más acción y más escenas de espionaje, que el Gran Juego tuviera más peso en la trama. No quiero decir que sea un tema secundario, ni mucho menos. Solo que me ha dado la impresión que todos los relacionado con la búsqueda del río místico y las enseñanzas de corte Budico han sido el auténtico motor central de toda la novela. Para mi el Gran Juego ha sido una mera excusa para darle más vidilla e interés a toda la novela.
Por otra parte, he tenido la gran suerte de poder manejar la edición que has sacado el sello de Penguin clásicos. Y digo suerte porque la traducción está muy conseguida y es muy fácil y agradable de leer. Además, el texto viene acompañado de un prólogo muy interesante realizado por un reputado estudioso del periodo colonial, que resulta muy interesante y de lo más esclarecedor de leer después de haber terminado lo que es la novela. A mí personalmente me ha ayudado muchísimo a entender mejor lo que había leído. Pero tengo que decir que lo que más he valorado es que, por suerte, en la edición habia una gran cantidad de notas que explicaban diferentes conceptos de la cultura India en todas sus vertientes que podían resultar extraños o desconocidos al lector moderno. Y digo suerte también porque me imagino la lectura sin estas notas como una travesía por el desierto sin una sola gota de agua. Si la obra no hubiera tenido estas notas y hubiera venido sin ninguna explicación, estoy convencida de que hubiera abandonado la lectura a las veinte primeras páginas. Pero al mismo tiempo, he tenido un enorme problema con ellas: todas estaban al final del libro. Os juro que no hay nada que más odie que las notas al final del libro, me parece la cosa más farragosa del mundo. El tener que ir hacia atrás todo el rato (prácticamente en cada página había algo nuevo que ir a mirar hacia la parte final del libro) y buscar cuál era la página donde se encontraba la explicación pertinente, creo que ha hecho que la lectura se me hiciese más densa y mucho más lenta.
En resumidas cuentas, “Kim” es un excelente qué cuadro sobre la época India durante la dominación colonial por parte de Gran Bretaña, un periodo muy fecundo para la literatura y la historia de ambas naciones. Es una obra que, me temo, ha envejecido bastante mal, pero no por ello resulta menos interesante de leer, ya que logra actuar como una suerte de documento histórico. Aunque solo sea por ver como los ingleses ven veía el gobierno sobre los indios. Además, es la clara muestra de que un libro puede estar muy bien escrito, pero si algo falla en su trama o en sus personajes es que falta algo que realmente impacte al lector. Por lo que todo esto seguramente no sirva de mucho. Por más que, como se dicho antes, sea un canto a la belleza y a la diversidad de ese mundo que tan fascinante y variado que es la India, y que nos interesa a no pocas personas. No dudo que esta no sea la última vez que me encuentre las caras con Kipling, pero espero que la próxima logre emocionarme algo más.
July 19, 2020
ETA: Ooops, I misspelled lama, using instead the spelling for the fuzzy animal sort, which IS spelled llama! ;0) Thanks Kim for telling me!
You CAN listen to a Librivox audiobook in the car. I have now discovered that you should click on the download buttons found next to each chapter visible in the Librivox app. You must click on all of them. If you don't click on each chapter's download button, you need wifi to listen when using the app. In the car you also must use an AUX jack. Leslie and Greg explained this to me. Thank you, both of you!
Now the review:
**************************************
I didn't hate the book, but I definitely wanted it to end as soon as possible.....
I liked one thing and that was how I felt the atmosphere of India, or how I imagine it might have been. The clatter, the exotic Eastern foods and smells, the feel of the air, the light. Musky sometimes. Clear and sharp, dazzling and sparkling at other times. Indians are composed of so many different castes and subgroups with varying beliefs, traditions, customs and religious affiliations. This book draws this well. I enjoyed the adjectives chosen, the descriptive metaphors for the mountains and hills, for all the different landscapes. The book is partially a travelogue, and this is what I enjoyed most. However, I cannot say I now have an understanding of the cultural differences and traditions that divide Pashtun from Sikh or Sufi. Although the book describes different culture groups, it doesn’t give much depth.
There is humor, it you care to see it. The Himalayas are referred to as the "hills".....
Primarily, this is an adventure story and about the fond relationship between, Kim, a twelve year old orphan at the book's beginning, and a lama. Kim is a half-caste; his mother had been Indian and his father Irish. He is a scamp, managing well in both worlds, the British world of power and spies and intrigue and the subservient but not self-deprecating Indian nationals. I am not sure of the date. I am guessing the end of 1800s because Russians were active along the northern border. The plot consists of a thread of adventure escapades. Kim grows into adulthood, and the lama, he seeks understanding and wisdom. We don't stop maturing at a set age! The plot is a thread of stories, drawing a path toward wisdom, understanding and maturity. I was neither drawn into the tales of adventure nor the path toward spiritual growth.
Neither am I a fan of Rudyard Kipling's writing style. It is old-fashioned, wordy and ambiguous. The native Indians spoke imperfect English, but this made them just look silly. Adjectives were used when adverbs should have been chosen.
I listened to this on my Ipod from a Librivox recording narrated by Adrian Praetzellis. Getting this to function properly took umpteen hours!!! Installing a Librivox app was absolutely necessary, and even then it didn’t function well. I could NOT listen in the car and Ipod's "Voice-Over" function did not work. I was not fond of the narrator, and he is one of the best at Librivox. What I hated most was that he made the lama sound like a moron. He spoke one word pause and one word pause.... this made him sound, well, stupid. A lama is wise, but not here! He read Kim’s part well. He spoke clearly and at a good speed. Others like a narrator to dramatize the lines. I don't, and he did here. I am glad I tried Librivox, but boy do I appreciate Audible even more after this experience. Nevertheless I still want to thank the numerous GR friends who have helped me test Librivox.
You CAN listen to a Librivox audiobook in the car. I have now discovered that you should click on the download buttons found next to each chapter visible in the Librivox app. You must click on all of them. If you don't click on each chapter's download button, you need wifi to listen when using the app. In the car you also must use an AUX jack. Leslie and Greg explained this to me. Thank you, both of you!
Now the review:
**************************************
I didn't hate the book, but I definitely wanted it to end as soon as possible.....
I liked one thing and that was how I felt the atmosphere of India, or how I imagine it might have been. The clatter, the exotic Eastern foods and smells, the feel of the air, the light. Musky sometimes. Clear and sharp, dazzling and sparkling at other times. Indians are composed of so many different castes and subgroups with varying beliefs, traditions, customs and religious affiliations. This book draws this well. I enjoyed the adjectives chosen, the descriptive metaphors for the mountains and hills, for all the different landscapes. The book is partially a travelogue, and this is what I enjoyed most. However, I cannot say I now have an understanding of the cultural differences and traditions that divide Pashtun from Sikh or Sufi. Although the book describes different culture groups, it doesn’t give much depth.
There is humor, it you care to see it. The Himalayas are referred to as the "hills".....
Primarily, this is an adventure story and about the fond relationship between, Kim, a twelve year old orphan at the book's beginning, and a lama. Kim is a half-caste; his mother had been Indian and his father Irish. He is a scamp, managing well in both worlds, the British world of power and spies and intrigue and the subservient but not self-deprecating Indian nationals. I am not sure of the date. I am guessing the end of 1800s because Russians were active along the northern border. The plot consists of a thread of adventure escapades. Kim grows into adulthood, and the lama, he seeks understanding and wisdom. We don't stop maturing at a set age! The plot is a thread of stories, drawing a path toward wisdom, understanding and maturity. I was neither drawn into the tales of adventure nor the path toward spiritual growth.
Neither am I a fan of Rudyard Kipling's writing style. It is old-fashioned, wordy and ambiguous. The native Indians spoke imperfect English, but this made them just look silly. Adjectives were used when adverbs should have been chosen.
I listened to this on my Ipod from a Librivox recording narrated by Adrian Praetzellis. Getting this to function properly took umpteen hours!!! Installing a Librivox app was absolutely necessary, and even then it didn’t function well. I could NOT listen in the car and Ipod's "Voice-Over" function did not work. I was not fond of the narrator, and he is one of the best at Librivox. What I hated most was that he made the lama sound like a moron. He spoke one word pause and one word pause.... this made him sound, well, stupid. A lama is wise, but not here! He read Kim’s part well. He spoke clearly and at a good speed. Others like a narrator to dramatize the lines. I don't, and he did here. I am glad I tried Librivox, but boy do I appreciate Audible even more after this experience. Nevertheless I still want to thank the numerous GR friends who have helped me test Librivox.
May 27, 2012
Even though I share the name of the hero of this novel, I've chosen not to read it until now. There's more than one reason for this. The main reason is that I'm not naturally drawn to picaresque novels or to espionage novels, even though I've read my fair share of books from both genres. I've also had an instinctively negative reaction to Kipling because of my not terribly well-informed view of him as an apologist for British imperialism.
However, in the last few days I've started reading the seventh book in Laurie R King's Mary Russell series, The Game, which features an older Kim, some thirty years after the events of this novel. While King's homage to Kipling's work made me download the audiobook narrated by Sam Dastor, it was Kipling's skill as a writer and storyteller which kept me totally engaged with the narrative. Kim is the story of Kimball O'Hara, the orphaned son of an Irish soldier and a poor Irish woman, who lives by his wits on the streets of Lahore, becomes the disciple of a Tibetan Lama looking for the river which will bring him enlightenment, falls into the hands of the British military, acquires an education, is trained as a spy and plays a part in the Great Game - the battle for supremacy between the British and Russian Empires in Central Asia.
Kim is a book which I could easily have disliked. The boy's own adventure elements, the lack of significant female characters, the refences to "Orientals" and "Asiatics" could all have irritated me and/or upset my politically correct sensibilities. It is true that I found the espionage plot rather less interesting than the rest of the plot. However, my lasting impression of the novel will not be those things. Rather, it will be the picture which Kipling paints of India under British rule in the late 19th century. Kipling deals with India in all of its bewildering diversity: the various religious communities, the cities and the rural areas, the plains and the mountains, the influence of the British on India and of India on the British. The other aspect of Kim which will remain with me is Kipling's treatment of the theme of identity. Kim has to find where he belongs in a land where social standing is determined by family, by caste and by religion. His questioning of his identity at various points in the novel is immensely moving. What I'll also take from Kim is the love for India and its people which Kipling clearly brought to the writing of the novel.
Sam Dastor's narration is amazing. He has a distinct voice for each character. Indeed, he subtly (and in relation to one character not so subtly) alters voices depending on whether the character is speaking English or Hindi or Urdu. I am persuaded that listening to the novel rather than reading it significantly increased by appreciation of the work. Listening to Kim has been a very enjoyable experience, up there in 4-1/2 star territory.
July 25, 2024
I'll accept it is a classic and it has hundreds of top rated reviews. I became lost within, wondering where the story was taking me. Going backwards to find a point I could work forwards from. Getting lost, reading the words but not really understanding why I'm being told.
The atmosphere the writer creates is the only plus and why I go as far as 3 stars.
The atmosphere the writer creates is the only plus and why I go as far as 3 stars.
April 13, 2022
Kim se puede leer en varias capas. Es una novela de aventuras, de iniciación, de amistad entre el joven pícaro y su maestro. Personajes opuestos que se complementan y buscan su camino, su destino.
Es también una historia de espionaje, Kim entra en el Gran Juego del imperio británico por el control de una India que se inclina hacia la independencia. Mitad europeo, mitad indio el protagonista crece y aprende.
Kipling escribe desde el punto de vista dominante de un hombre blanco, favorable al colonialismo y al mismo tiempo enamorado de una tierra hermosa, colorida, dura, desigual. La novela describe un momento histórico, en un lugar y un tiempo determinado, y eso le vemos a través de inclusiones y exclusiones deliberadas. El autor no es neutral.
La prosa fluye entre diálogos, descripciones y conocimientos budistas. Un clásico de la literatura universal que se lee con agrado.
Es también una historia de espionaje, Kim entra en el Gran Juego del imperio británico por el control de una India que se inclina hacia la independencia. Mitad europeo, mitad indio el protagonista crece y aprende.
Kipling escribe desde el punto de vista dominante de un hombre blanco, favorable al colonialismo y al mismo tiempo enamorado de una tierra hermosa, colorida, dura, desigual. La novela describe un momento histórico, en un lugar y un tiempo determinado, y eso le vemos a través de inclusiones y exclusiones deliberadas. El autor no es neutral.
La prosa fluye entre diálogos, descripciones y conocimientos budistas. Un clásico de la literatura universal que se lee con agrado.
April 18, 2020
I read this book in memory of my Dad and my Grandad who loved Rudyard Kipling's way with words. I chose this edition narrated by Sam Dastor as I love the way he uses his voice to bring the story to life. There was much to love from the exploration of the culture of India, the characters, particularly the free spirited Kim and his deep and abiding friendship with the Lama.
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