I, HANUMAN
by Roger N. Buckley
published by Writers Workshop 2003
Lake Gardens, Calcutta 700045, India.
Distributed by Hanuman Distributors
12 Gardner Tavern Road, Coventry, Connecticut 06268
860-486-3560; $22.95Review by Veronica Montes
In Roger N. Buckley’s historical novel I, Hanuman, a mysterious manuscript falls fortuitously into the lap of a history professor who is dedicated to uncovering the truth—free of skewed British claims—about India’s Revolution of 1857. The papers contain the memoirs of Bedasee Singh, a native soldier or “sepoy,” who served in an infantry regiment as part of the British Indian army.
This re-telling of the Indian epic The Ramayana moves the reader chronologically through Singh’s life, beginning with his idyllic childhood in the Bengal countryside. Buckley’s prose is downright sensual as he describes the slow unwinding of days, the sights, the smells, the very heat of Singh’s Bengal home: “Oozing out slowly from the kitchen behind the house like a river and lingering long afterwards was the aroma of phoron-flavored dal and fish and vegetables frying in hissing and sputtering pans.” But soon after his education ends, Singh’s grandfather forces his parents to make good on a promise made years before. Like his grandfather who rose to the rank of Subedar in the military, he will train and then serve as a sepoy for the British.
Singh’s naive teenage curiosity about white men—“More than anything else I wanted to meet them in person, be in their midst, see firsthand who these victorious strangers were. Life was suddenly full of glorious anticipation.”—combined with the legacy of his grandfather, make him an ideal candidate for the Army. Dazzled by the pageantry of military life, the “superiority” of the British, and the instant worship granted when he dons his red tunic and white pants, he begins his career with an innocent enthusiasm. In time, he does indeed become a Subedar, and he also commits what can arguably be called his first act of rebellion by taking a young girl named Basundhara—the daughter of a lowly sweeper—as his lover.
Buckley skillfully builds the foundation for Bedasee Singh’s transformation from an “ingabanga” sepoy or “British-worshipping Indian soldier” to one who believes that he must free his country from the bondage of white slavery. Doubts soon crowd Singh’s mind. Why did his proud grandfather grovel at the feet of the Saheb Colonel Rogers? Why were sepoys housed in substandard facilities while their white counterparts were kept in comfort? And perhaps most importantly, why did the Army work so hard to separate Hindus from Muslims? Singh realizes that it is to foster hostility and suspicion between the two groups. “Division made us more and more aware of our differences—not our similarities—which caused tensions and eventually violence. And violence is, as we all know, the foundation of British rule in India.”
The line between good and evil is clearly drawn in this heady mix of war, colonization, racism, history and romance. Ultimately, Bedasee must decide whether to retreat into a false sense of tranquility or to join the forces of revolution. “I know what nirvana must be like,” he muses.“ It must be a place where one never has to make a choice.” He does make his choice, and the dramatic end of this deeply-felt work is both uplifting and tragic—a gift for the reader.
