 ""He was impregnably armoured by his good intentions and his ignorance."" | 2009-03-13 |
| - Reviewed By User: A2YXRT2XIJIO57 |
The subject line is Greene's description of Alden Pyle. Readers may speculate on the larger, metaphorical dimensions of the book's three principal characters, and impose them on their countries of origin. Pyle is the young, crew-cut American, fresh out of an Ivy League school, over-schooled and undereducated, his head stuffed full of the geo-political notions of the fictional York Harding. Fowler is the cynical, accommodating middle-aged British reporter, just "reporting the facts," not taking sides, until he finally feels he has to. And there is the lovely Ms Phuong, trying to make the best of it in a troubled landscape, a lover to both men, and perhaps a symbol of Vietnam herself.
It was January, 1994, and I was leaving the Hanoi War Museum, one of the first wave of Americans to return. Vietnam was just on the cusp of letting tourists wander the country freely; the War Museum had not been "sanitized" yet (which would happen in only two more years), to remove exhibits that might offend our "sensibilities." And over in the corner was an elderly Vietnamese lady, selling books from a small pile, only two of which were in English, this being one of them. Was it just chance, or did she know that this was the quintessential book about the American involvement in Vietnam, prescient beyond belief, having been written at the very, very beginning, in 1955? I had read it prior to my first, year-long trip there, and decided to purchase another copy.
Today the book is even more relevant, in ways that even Greene did not anticipate. It continues to merit re-reads, I've finished my third. Greene modeled the character of Pyle on the very real life Kermit Roosevelt, who led the CIA's coup that overthrew the democratically elected government of Iran, in 1953. Pyle was indifferent to the "collateral damage" of his actions, the civilians who had died for a higher purpose, "democracy." And it was this indifference that finally pushed Fowler to take sides. For a number of years in the `50's and `60's the US Immigration would not allow Greene into the United States. They don't have to state a reason, but certainly this book would be a leading contender.
Greene's biographers reveal a very unpleasant man, who betrayed most of his friends. No doubt there are many elements of Greene in Fowler, an unpleasant man who betrays the person who saved his life. None of the characters are "uplifting," all are profoundly flawed, but wouldn't there be something absurdly wrong to fill a novel with uplifting characters that are involved in one of the more serious, and long-lasting follies of the 20th Century? We should dislike these people.
In real life Graham Green visited Dien Bien Phu on Dec. 12, 1953 (per Bernard Fall). One of the great "takeaways" of this book for me was Greene's description of the lies of the French military, courageously retaking villages that had never been reported loss, always able to definitively report the enemy dead, but not their own, "because they were too busy advancing..." et al. All the PR "spin" that would presage our own.
Greene reserves his main animus for York Harding. The professor of the Ivy League, sitting in his Ivory Tower, concocting theories that turned Vietnamese peasants into a Red Tide sweeping towards Sydney. Consider: "York Harding's a very courageous man. Why in Korea--." "He wasn't an enlisted man, was he? He had a return ticket. With a return ticket, courage becomes an intellectual exercise, like a monk's flagellation." Later, and more specifically: "He's the man you are looking for, Vigot. He killed Pyle--at long range." Indeed, Harding managed to "blind" this very bright man to the reality before his eyes.
How many York Harding's do we have today, constructing grandiose theories about the "clash of civilizations" and our duty to spread "democracy" throughout the Middle East, oblivious to the collateral damage, when Pyle's real life counterpart, Kermit Roosevelt, worked so hard to snuff it out because the people elected "the wrong guy." This book should be required reading in every university today, and by all serious readers thereafter, and twice might not be enough.
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| "Good Book!" | 2009-02-25 |
| - Reviewed By User: A1CDTBK261LN9Y |
The only Quiet American, is a Dead American! This was a great book set during the Vietnam war. I am not much for war stories, but when you add in the love story, it captures the reader. A love triangle between the three main characters is a reflection of the political triangle between the three main countries.
I do not think that President Bush quite captured the essence of what Greene was trying to say when he mentioned the book in his speech last year.
I was not impressed with the movie at all, after reading the book. |
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| ""I'm too old to run with a rifle. And this isn't my war" " | 2009-01-30 |
| - Reviewed By vietvet1 |
The Quiet American (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition)
"I'm too old to run with a rifle. And this isn't my war"
Graham Greene's exploration of the French Indochina Wars evokes memories for me of Saigon, the media's coverage of the war, and my own participation as a military journalist (now there's an oxymoron if there ever was one)
Written in 1955, "The Quiet American" precedes US involvement by ten years, but it accurately forecast the gradual insinuation of US influence through the CIA, for which Pyle presumably worked. The story works on several levels: as a romantic novel in which the older man, Fowler, duels with Pyle for the affection of the Vietnamese girl Phuong; as an indictment of French and British colonialism; and as an allegory of war.
Fowler is the British expatriate - middle aged, cynical, addicted to his opium pipe, and detached. Pyle is the young, college-educated American covert operative, ostensibly working for the Economic Attaché, but probably involved in arms deals. (One of his shipments, imported under the guise of economic aid, actually is plastics - probably explosives.)
In one pivotal scene, Fowler travels north to see the action with his own eyes, rather than through the prism of French public relations. Pyle hitches a ride and joins him - then, in a masterful dramatic scene, prevails on Fowler to let him, Pyle, take Phuong.
Unlike the American journalists, who spend their days listening to official explanations, and their nights drinking at the bar at the Continental Hotel (where I, too, drank in the evenings), Fowler wants to get out in the field. When he travels north, he finds evidence that things aren't going as well as the French High Command would have him believe:
"Now, after four days, with the help of parachutists, the enemy had been pushed back half a mile around the town. This was a defeat: no journalists were allowed, no cables could be sent, for the papers must carry only victories. "
Fowler perceived what few others did:
"We are the old colonial peoples, Pyle, but we've learned a bit of reality. We've learned not to play with matches. This Third Force - it comes out of a book, that's all. General The's only a bandit with a few thousand men; he's not a national democracy"
It was as if he had been staring at me through a letterbox to see who was there, and now, letting the flap fall, had shut out the unwelcome intruder. His eyes were out of sight." I don't know what you mean, Thomas."
"Those bicycle bombs. They were a good joke, even though one man did lose a foot. But Pyle, you can't trust men like The'. They aren't going to save the east from Communism. We know their kind."
"We?'
"The old colonialists."
"I thought you took no sides."
"I don't, Pyle, but if someone has got to make a mess of things in your outfit, leave it to Joe. Go home with Phuong. Forget the Third Force."
Pyle's naïve faith in the ability of the people to forge their own destiny echoes more recent American intervention in foreign affairs.
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| "A Bird's Eye View of 1950's French Colonial Vietnam" | 2008-10-24 |
| - Reviewed By User: A2WWONIEGWYOF6 |
The Quiet American by Graham Greene is about a British foreign correspondent on assignment in Vietnam. His assignment is to report the progress of the fighting between several groups who are trying to take control of the government and dismiss the French from their land. Fowler is a middle aged, opium addicted atheist in love with a young and beautiful Vietnamese orphan girl named Phuong with whom he cohabits.
Our third main character Pyle is American,young, introverted for the most part and up to "secret" stuff including stealing Phuong.
This is a classically written book from a great novelist. My original interest was in discovering what 1950s Vietnam looked like and I was not disappointed at all. It is an interesting plot with many turns and Mr. Greene's descriptions are detailed and captivating.
A most enjoyable book.
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| "I was a reporter, I had no real opinions about anything" | 2008-09-17 |
| - Reviewed By User: A30DQ67B90NDZA |
So said the main character (and narrator) Fowler about himself in an attempt to thwart his promotion to the position of editor, away from the French war in Indo China, and his mistress Phuong.
And a true assessment of himself it may have been, if things had remained as they were. But once Pyle, the naïve, quiet American with his eye on the selfsame Phuong, and his dangerous political meddling enters the scene, Fowler ceases to be a mere spectator, and enters the real world of action with all that it entails. This, then, is the factual gist of, for me, Graham Greene's greatest novel.
It contains everything one has come to admire in Greene: an absolute economy of words, character developed through action and terse dialogue rather than descriptive language, all set within (what has seemingly become an unavoidable cliché when discussing his novels) an intriguing moral dilemma. So he breaks no new ground here, but rather perfects that which he does well to an exceptional degree.
And as always, nothing is ever simple. Ambiguities attach to everything we do, as Fowler discovers, when he does what he considers to be the expedient, just thing re the quiet American. Public and private morality dovetail in Pyle's fate, which Fowler suddenly can determine in one single act, which he does. So the world-weary Fowler ceases to be a mere reporter, and attains everything what he wanted in one fell swoop. And then, in a breathtaking turn-around the jaded, cynical observer Fowler is brought to this in the last sentence of the novel;
..but how I wished there existed someone to whom I could say that I was sorry.
which, when I read it for the first time, carried me over the threshold of the Christian Faith, in the joyous realization that such a Someone does exist.
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