Grasping South Asian culture with more insight than most others

Scott came to be known for his writing comparatively late in life, because of the Quartet, which has become his best known work. It is a fascinating story about certain events that took place in the fictional town of Mayapur and its environs. As Scott says, "This is a story of a rape, of the events that led up to it and followed it and of the place in which it happened." It is set in the last years of the Raj amid the tumult of heightened emotions, civil strife and religious confrontation that was soon to rend the country in a bloodbath.

The novels are almost reflective in their approach and much preoccupied with creating an understanding of the time and in presenting the manners and mores of the era. So much so, that a legitimate criticism may be that they are slow in presenting the story; in fact each novel examines the same set of events from a different perspective and through the eyes of different characters. Scott uses a mix of third-person narrative, journalistic and detailed descriptions as well as first-person accounts to create a story that is both broadly historical and intensely personal.

Scott's characters people the story and capture our interest convincingly. They may be stereotypes but they are extraordinarily memorable and lifelike. We get to know them intimately because Scott enters their imaginations with an authentic realism and documents their thoughts and feelings with credibility.

These are deeply reflective novels spoken in many voices and by many different persons yet he reproduces the cadences of speech, even the tone of the language that each different personality uses, with an uncanny accuracy.

Scott captures the British preoccupation with the "question of who was who and why" as well as the emotionalism of the Indian way of life and the evils of colonialism and racism equally well and, what is more important, without moralising or generalising about people. Daphne Manners' naivety and earnestness is as recognisable as the cultural limitations of the other British Sahebs. Lady Chatterjee is as much a product of the Raj in her decided opinions and rigid views as is Mrs. Nesbitt, albeit from two entirely opposed points of view. Caught in the middle of the racial tension is the love story, poignant in its incompleteness.

The Quartet became known world wide after the TV dramatisation which has remained a classic among mini-series to this day. Who can forget the gorgeous Art Malik as the young Harry Coomer? The opening scene where Merrick comes upon Harry washing under the tube-well in the mission is a classic.

As Scott describes it, "What, he said. And spoke for the first time in perfect English. Better accented than Merrick's. I'm afraid I don't speak Indian. Didn't this man understand? It's no use talking Indian at me. That face. Dark. And handsome. Even in the western way handsome. Sister Ludmilla, Merrick said, but still staring at the young Kumar, is there a room where we can question this man? Come, I said, come to the office, and made to lead the way but already the Bibighar affair had gone too far. In those few seconds it had begun and could not be stopped because of what Mr. Merrick was and what young Kumar was."

The train of events set in motion that day could have happened, indeed I believe did happen, on many other occasions in the long history of the British Raj. The eternal triangle of two men and one woman -- plain, graceless and awkward as she was -- became dramatic as the two cultures faced off and the end was to be tragically predictable.

I recall the TV sperhaps the best performance of his career as he transformed from the westernised Harry Coomer to the patriotic Hari Kumar in the wake of the awful events that surrounded the rape in the Bibighar gardens. It is so typical of the time that the outward persona of westernisation was soon to be stripped to the naked passion of patriotism in South Asians, young and old, as a collective overthrowing of everything that colonialism stood for.

But to return to Scott and his art, I admire the depth of understanding that he brought to the subject despite his comparatively brief personal acquaintance with the country. Apparently while still serving in the British Army, he was posted in India and Malaya in 1943-46 but even in this short period of time he managed to grasp the nuances of South Asian religion and culture with more insight than most others have been able to muster. For instance the place names he uses have an awful resonance of their own --Mayapur and Bibighar echoing with an inevitable doom the memories of the Kanpur and Bibighar of an earlier time.

This was an era where the white mughals were long vanished and the Mark Tullys and William Dalrymples had yet to arrive on the sub-continent, so the divide between colonial masters and the natives of the land was wide and gaped wider still with every exacerbating incident and event so that it seemed as if the conflict was inevitable in its eventuality. This theme has been treated by other writers at other times; however Scott's mastery lies in the way he was able to capture the ethos of South Asia with such deep insight and empathy.

Yasmeen Murshed is a full-time bookworn and a part-time educationist. She is also the founder of Scholastica School.