On the necessity of violence
Thoughts on R. F. Kuang's novel "Babel", Omar Sy and some book recs
If we’ve crossed paths during the last month, chances are you caught me, hair disheveled and right eyeball ready to pop out of its venous orbit, raving about Rebecca F. Kuang’s novel “Babel”. I think I must have been a preacher in a past life because I sure do love to drone about the things I’m obsessed with (if I actually owned Birken ”stocks”, I’d be a rich mf right now because I converted so many people to its practical softness for city-tired footsies).
I dug into Babel after a white Bookstagrammer, wayfarewithbooks, stirred a storm in a tea cup with her 0-star review of Kuang’s book. Reading Babel, she wrote “…gave me the feeling that I’m guilty of racism through my mere existence."
A dark academia fiction set two centuries ago that brings together colonialism, racism, power dynamics in elite universities, revolutionary secret societies, and a social commentary that triggers white discomfort?
I was sold.
Context
Oxford, 19th century England. The Empire is roaring mightily as it flosses its bared teeth with the bones of the people living in its colonies and beyond. To strengthen their world dominance, the English need to master other languages to keep up the upper hand on international trade. More importantly, mastering those languages is necessary to maintain elusive silver bars, vessels of magic, that are the backbone of their imperial power. These bars make canal water fresher and cleaner, locomotive trains go faster without encountering major accidents, heals illnesses, and can create explosions, among other savvy use cases. The only way to exploit the full potential of those silver bars is to be fully fluent in a robust number of languages. This fluency allows the academicians to create “match-pairs”, translations between languages that magically activate the silver bars.
It so happens that the most powerful silver bars are activated by “rarer” languages such as Mandarin, Sanskrit, Arabic. However, very few academics attending Oxford are fluent enough in those languages, let alone native, given the racial and social makeup of the prestigious university.
That’s where Babel comes into play. Oxford’s towering, global institute of translation routinely sends its professors/minions across the world to pluck young native speakers of those rare languages from their homes, uproot them to England to be rigourously trained in English, Ancient Greek and Latin, on top of their respective native languages. Babel traces the story of a group of four students; Robin, from Canton, Ramy from Calcutta, Victoire from Haiti and Letty from Brighton. They were all effectively groomed to become subjects of Babel’s elite translation force, and by extension subjects of the British Empire. But their paths diverge as their loyalties are tested - who will resist and who will defend the Empire?
“Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”
The book traces their journeys as they grapple working for an elitist institution that requires their language skills, to being constantly reminded, at least for Robin, Ramy and Victoire, that they are outliers in the ocean of white, privileged faces that mill through the tower. Profesor Lowell, Robin’s tutor/abductor, coldly reminds him:
“You must learn to overcome the pollution of your blood.”
Chapter Two - Babel
During the course of the book, Robin defends Babel countless times, genuinely thankful for the opportunity of learning in the revered halls of Oxford, free of charge, and with access to an colossal amount of books and knowledge hoarded by the university. This illusion of privilege inevitably comes crumbling down as soon as he utters a single criticism of Babel. Robin, Ramy and Victoire, the three “minorities” of the group, are expected to be “undyingly grateful” to the Empire, as if their loyalties were shackled by privilege they had not asked for and did not choose to receive.
I think many immigrants or children of immigrants will recognise themselves in the rhythm of the plot: the forced assimilation, the development of race/social consciousness, and finally the desire, or not, to undo the system that benefits from keeping them caged and docile.
I was reading this passage when yet another useless controversy broke in France surrounding Omar Sy, a successful French Black actor who is currently starring in “Les Tirailleurs”, a movie retracing the forcible displacement of Senegalese men from their villages and towns fight for the French colonial power during WWI. In one of the interviews he gave during his promotional tour, he dared point out the difference in the way the war in Ukraine and its refugees are viewed in the West vs. other wars where Black and Brown people are overwhelmingly affected. The media frenzy that ensued was calculated - politicians and public figures, left, right and centre, rushed in to chastise him, decrying him as ungrateful, accusing him of “biting the hand that fed him”.
Now, Omar Sy isn’t even the most radical racial justice champion out there - far from it. But this goes to show how the success of non-white people is predicated on their willingness to shut up and keep quiet about social injustice - no matter how big or small their critiques are, and regardless of their social capital. As immigrants, you’re supposed to bend over and be satisfied with the crumbs thrown in your direction. You’re supposed to execute orders and make yourself small; any toe out of line will be sliced off swiftly.
Can we really change the system from the inside?
Short answer: no.
Do we merely start out with lofty ideals that we drop when we cash in fat paychecks, prestigious job titles and other perks the mothership provides to keep the wool stuck tightly over our eyes?
“Robin found it quite easy to put up with any degree of social unrest, as long as one got used to looking away”.
Chapter Twelve - Babel
It made me think of the ways we try to justify being part of specific spaces, especially elite institutions, by believing that our mere presence as “minorities” is already a victory in itself. But is it truly? I honestly do not think so. I don’t think that any viable change can be initiated from within the house. I also do believe, at least in retrospect, than even if we are granted access to these places of power and intellect, we waste so much time trying to assimilate that we fail to figure out that we are merely being used as dispensable assets. R. F. Kuang, through Robin’s character, justly demonstrates his inner struggle between his position as an elite translator, while learning along the way that his work at Babel directly contributes to the exploitation and destruction of his home town in Canton.
“You were either a part of this institution, one of the bricks that held it up, or you weren’t.”
Chapter Twenty-Five - Babel
Is violence a logical reaction to oppression?
“Babel” is, in its essence, a novel about the exploitative brutality of the British Empire, and ties together so many issues that are echoed in all capitalist, racist systems that endure today. It touches on the delicate balance between enjoying the spoils and privileges that come with being a subject of the Empire, while knowing that that very Empire is decimating communities and lands on the other side of the world.
It begs important questions - is it possible to resist peacefully when the Empire is inherently a violent apparatus that 1/ initiates bloodshed and destruction 2/ has no qualms striking back, while gaslighting the rest of the world into believing that any form of resistance is more reprehensible than their own crimes?
“Violence is the only language they understand, because their system of extraction is inherently violent.”
Chapter Twenty-Two, Babel
The idea that violence is the only way to counter the brutality of systems and empires is one that is documented in decolonial literature and texts. Frantz Fanon famously wrote in “The Wretched of the Earth” that “decolonisation is always a violent phenomenon.” He also went on to say that “violence is the only language spoken by the colonizer.”
And this part is really important because, even today, when oppressed peoples across the world, be it in Peru, Iran, France, Ethiopia, America, decide to respond to severe injustices with violence - burning cars, blocking streets, throwing molotov cocktails, vandalizing murals - we are made to focus on their actions in their singularity, as unprovoked responses, rather than take in the whole picture and assess whether their violent retaliation is proportional to the cruelty initiated by the oppressor. The burden is always on the oppressed to choose the peaceful righteous path, when instead we should shift the blame on the oppressor for choosing the violent path in the first place. Petitions and pamphlets just won’t cut it.
I could really write about this book for hours and hours - I haven’t even had the chance to cover the way R. F. Kuang brilliantly exposes the fallacies of white feminism. Thankfully, other readers have the done the job - I suggest you read Haley Denning’s concise anlaysis of the Bookstagram controversy and what it reveals about white fragility and the fabled existence of “reverse racism”.
In the mean time, I can’t wait to dig into R. F. Kuang’s other books, while waiting for her upcoming novel “Yellowface” to hit the bookstores this spring. I truly, truly have not felt this exhilarated reading a book in a hot minute - it’s the kind of book that keeps you awake, reading into the dead of the night, eyes burning and heart racing. I am in awe of the story she has spun and her mastery of languages - I learned so much about the way different languages are connected and indebted to one another. “Babel” made me want to go back to university to study literature and languages - devouring books in a mahogany library with bad lighting and uncomfortable seats - and join a revolutionary secret society after school hours.
Some books/Substack recs
I initially imagined his post to be a thoughtful recap of my year 2022, but sadly I chose chaos and wrote up this clumsy, erratic newsletter. Thankfully, I came across some pretty cool year-in-reviews that I’m sure will resonate with you:
Sarah Thankam Mathews’ review, which is gorgeous, much like her stunning debut All This Could Be Different
R. F. Kuang’s year in books (yes, I’m obsessed)
Nastassia’s 2022 in culture
2022 was generally a slow year for me for all things books, writing, community building. I really hope I’ll be more disciplined, or rather consistent, with keeping up with all three this year because I realise how empty and sullen my life can be without nurturing all those thoughts in my mind, and without challenging them as much.
I have a couple newsletters planned out already in my head, I just need to sit myself down for three hours every week to get them out. If you don’t see a fresh post in February you are allowed to publicly call me out and cancel me.
As usual, stay violent and angry,
S.
P.S: Harper Collins staff is on strike for better wages while demanding that the publisher respects diversity commitments. If you want to read Babel, consider buying it off the Harper Collins Union’s page to raise funds and awareness. I was unaware that reviewing the book. You can also read R. F. Kuang’s Substack post on the topic here.
Wooow !! Toujours les bons mots, fins et puissants ! Quelle plume comme toujours !!!
Merci pour cette reco pleine de feu et de passion, je l’ai lue d’une traite en retenant mon souffle. J’ai très très envie de lire ce livre maintenant !