Back Jonahwhale
Chapters (69)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by Ranjit Hoskote
  3. Advance Praise for Jonahwhale
  4. Dedication
  5. I
  6. The Churchgate Gazette
  7. The Map Seller
  8. The Atlas of Lost Beliefs
  9. Seven Islands
  10. Ocean
  11. Ahab
  12. Spelling the Tide
  13. Cape Caution
  14. The Heart Fixes on Nothing
  15. And Sometimes Rivers
  16. Risk
  17. As It Emptieth It Selfe
  18. Lascar
  19. At the Belvedere
  20. Sycorax
  21. A Constantly Unfinished Instrument
  22. Night Sky and Counting
  23. Render
  24. Pompeii Mural
  25. Fly Away, Swim Closer
  26. Marine Drive
  27. Natural History
  28. Passage
  29. The Refugee Pauses in Flight
  30. Wound
  31. Redburn on Shore Leave
  32. Cargo and Ballast
  33. Baldachin
  34. Highway Prayer
  35. II
  36. Poona Traffic Shots
  37. III
  38. Philip Guston, in (Pretty Much) His Own Words
  39. Poussin’s ‘Landscape with a Man Killed by a Snake’
  40. Aperture
  41. Passepartout
  42. Printer
  43. Glass
  44. Rothko
  45. Hangman’s Song
  46. The Oracle Tree
  47. At Twenty Paces
  48. Sniper’s Drill
  49. Open for Business
  50. Rain Dance
  51. Figures on an Amphora
  52. Under the Tree of Tongues
  53. Eight Rules for Travellers to Thebes
  54. Miniature Painting
  55. Glossa
  56. Tree Line
  57. After the Story
  58. The Bungalows of South Avenue
  59. Self-Portrait as Child in the Rain
  60. Marcus Aurelius
  61. Planetarium
  62. Kushan Dawn Song
  63. Dunhuang
  64. Bactrian Drachma
  65. The Swimming Pool
  66. The Poet’s Life
  67. Notes
  68. Acknowledgements
  69. THE BEGINNING

The protagonist of this poem is St Thomas. The name Thomas represents the Koine, or Alexandrian Greek, dialect form of the Aramaic name Tauma, meaning ‘twin’. The Gospel of John glosses it in formal Greek as Didymos. The name seems appropriate to the apostle who will forever be associated with his attitude of doubt towards the Resurrection – a doubt paradoxically born of his loyalty towards the living Jesus – and his empirical approach to what would become a mysterium tremendum of the Christian religious imagination. In Thomas, we see ourselves: creatures of schismatic consciousness twinned against ourselves, judging ourselves against hazily perceived Doppelgängers, always wondering who we might actually be.

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‘Redburn on Shore Leave’

This poem is a palimpsest-like improvisation around Chapter 34: ‘The Irrawaddy’, of Herman Melville’s Redburn: His First Voyage (1849). See Melville, Redburn (with an Introduction by Elizabeth Hardwick; New York: Modern Library Classics, 2002). The floating fragments of Hindustani that appear through the poem are bandishes, or compositions, from the repertory of Hindustani music. Several of these compositions are thumris or chaitis, traditionally sung by women. These genres, whose origins lie in domestic or ‘folk’ contexts, in cycles of seasonal celebration or the romantic and erotic lyrical experiments of tawaifs or courtesans, have been incorporated into the hierarchy of postcolonial Hindustani classical music under such patronizing and patriarchal rubrics as ‘light classical’ or ‘semi-classical’. Expressive of female desire and political awareness, many of these compositions encode the absence or loss of lovers who have migrated to the city in search of work, been imprisoned by the colonial police, or been press-ganged into distant indentured labour in the Caribbean or the South Pacific. In the course of the poem, some of the bandish lines are broken up, recombined, or mixed.

*

‘Cargo and Ballast’

Dedicated to the memory of the Martiniquais philosopher, poet and literary critic Édouard Glissant, this poem incorporates and improvises around passages from his memorable work, at once psycho-history of the Middle Passage, sociological inquiry, ars poetica and political manifesto, Poetics of Relation (trans. Betsy Wing; Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1997). The poem also includes material from the trial of the owners and crew of the slave ship Zong in the early 1780s, arising from the dispute between them and their insurers, who refused to pay them compensation for the slaves they had thrown overboard as ‘perishable goods’ in the days following 29 November 1781. The Atlantic slave trade did not recognize African slaves as human beings and regarded them as cargo; sick or dying slaves, as well as newborn children, were often thrown overboard by slavers. Business practice dictated that the ill be sacrificed so as not to infect the healthy; and, in any event, insurance could be collected on what was chillingly construed as reasonable losses.