"The Novel Tells A Story" (E.M. Forster). What Else, If Anything, Does Forster Do?

Upon a most rudimentary evaluation, A Passage to India is simply a story, a tale of two countries through which we follow a handful of central characters. As readers, we watch as these characters travel from England to India, into mosques and temples and through caves. We are given a window through which to view their interactions and whereabouts. It is undeniable that A Passage to India tells a story, however; to say that telling a story is all Forster does in A Passage to India seems to attenuate the accomplishment of his novel. The appeal of A Passage to India, the life of the novel, lies not in its story, but in the way Forster uses language to persuade readers to broaden their outlooks and to see that those who we may consider less intelligent or sophisticated than we, are, at heart, not so different, and the boundaries which we see as separating us are not as distinct as we would like to imagine. Forster uses his novel to suggest that much like the way any two sounds, no matter how different, brought before a hollow cave, will produce identical echoes, examined on their own, apart from the cultures which have come to define them, any two seemingly different people, no matter how superficially different they are, are at core, one and the same.

When Forester wrote A Passage to India, it was not a tale of some distant past or future. The novel, mirroring actual current events of the time, was written during the period when the British government was officially ruling India. The novel was relevant and current when it was published, and like any well-thought-out evaluation of a current issue, Forster's words had the potential to impact the sentiments of all those involved with the British Empire in India and the rest of the world looking on. Given the timeframe of British Empire in India, and the publication date of the novel, it is clear that there was more at stake than merely the telling of a story. (Of course, Forster's message and the lessons it attempts to teach can be more broadly applied as well.) Whether or not Forster's ideas were effectively adopted at the time of the novel's publication or now is hard to evaluate, but he certainly makes a convincing and persuasive, if somewhat wavering, argument for viewing even those who we govern, even those who are weaker than ourselves, as equals and as parts of the same whole. Forster uses his novel to tell a story, but he also uses it to smudge boundary lines--between races, between countries, and even between human and animal, between our world and the eternal world. The novel speaks not only to an Indian population, not only to the British, but to all people, calling for them to see past the boundaries that divide them and treat each other with love and respect.

Forster's depiction of Indian/Anglo-Indian relations in India seems to suggest that the two cultural groups are prevented from seeing over the barriers which separate them by a vicious cycle of negative relations stemming from the Brits' closed mindedness and rudeness toward the Indians that result from it. As evidenced by the eagerness of the Indians to attend the bridge party and the conversations we witness among the Indian characters, Mahmoud Ali, Aziz and Hamidullah, the Indian people do not seem to possess some grand negative predisposition towards the British, or even to the Empire itself. Rather, it seems as though the Indians' resentment of the British stems from sour individual interaction. It becomes apparent through the dialogue of the Indian characters that the British have been so rude to the Indians that the Indians cannot think of more than two or three meager examples of kindness they have been shown by the "Anglo-Indians." Forster characterizes the British living in India, of course with exceptions which he pays close attention to, as looking down their noses at the Indians and their different customs and traditions, not opening their minds to the possibility that the things which separate them are really not so grave after all, not opening their eyes to notice the true characters of the Indians as respectable individuals. Forster though, takes care to show the reader the thoughtful and sympathetic way in which he sees the Indians.

The protagonist and Indian character we come to know best serves as prime example of how the Anglo-Indians' preconceptions of Indians blind them to the Indian's positive qualities. Forster presents Aziz as a poetic and spiritual man who seeks to please those who show him even the slightest kindness and to be loyal to his wife even after her death. Despite his kindness and generosity, Aziz is constantly disrespected by the British. Aziz is called upon during his dinner hour by his English boss, who does not even wait for Aziz's arrival. Two Englishwomen steal Aziz's tonga without so much as an apology. Ronny assumes that Aziz's unpinned collar is symbolic of his laziness, when in fact it is symbolic of his generosity. We watch the great care Aziz puts into preparations for the Marabar cave outing to please Mrs. Moore and Adela. Instead of expressing her appreciation, one of the women actually accuses Aziz of attacking her when alone in the cave. Although Aziz is the Indian character we come to learn the most about, it is assumed that all Indians are treated similarly, if not worse, as Aziz is an Indian in the higher class. By pairing his loving descriptions of Aziz and other Indian characters with the British's mistreatment of them, Forster shows how these manmade boundaries inhibit harmonious living.

Unity and harmony are prominent themes which are intricately woven into the plot. The novel is framed around a question of unity and harmony. 'Is it possible for an Indian to be friends with an Englishman?' Although for these characters at the time the British Government ruled India, the answer is not a simple "yes," it is clear that the answer is not a simple "no" either.

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