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jackielaw's review
3.0
The Secret History of The Jungle Book, by Swati Singh, is a fresh if brief consideration of Rudyard Kipling and, arguably, his most famous creation. It is divided into three parts which look at: The Jungle Book’s popularity, reach and longevity; the man who wrote it; what his character, Mowgli, can teach us today. It explores the possible inspiration for the work of a hugely successful author – Kipling was the first British writer to be awarded the Nobel Prize for literature – who carefully guarded his privacy. Kipling was decried as an imperialist, accused of being a Nazi, yet his personal story is more nuanced than these angry accusations.
Kipling was born in India and raised until he was six years old by his family’s servants. He will have been told myths and stories of the adopted land he loved in these formative years, many of which he wove into his later work. The following six years were a miserable and life altering experience. Sent to Southend to be raised and schooled as an Englishman he was fostered by a couple whose cruelties taught him the harsh realities of abandonment and survival. He returned to India as soon as he could wrest back control, to apprentice as a journalist.
Kipling’s adult life was punctuated by tragedy – two of his children pre-deceased him. His sister suffered a mental breakdown and he had a serious falling out with his brother-in-law which drove him from America. India remained his muse and his daemon, despite only living there sporadically. He described it as ‘the only real home I had yet known.’
Kiplings literary genius was often marred by prejudiced leanings regarding races and nations yet he rarely seems to have felt a part of wherever he lived. Likewise Mowgli, much moreso in his books than in the popular Disney film, struggled with a desire to belong in the jungle despite knowing he was a man, not the wolf he had been raised.
The author mulls how his story may be applied today:
“Mowgli was born in the golden dawn of the era of globalisation, when the progress of science and technology had started opening up the boundaries of the world. In the present scenario, as technology brings the communities of the world into instant contact with the click of a mouse, our world truly becomes a global village. But the flipside of this technology boom is the way in which the diversity of our world is often in an open confrontation which makes our world more of a global jungle than a global village, where the ruthless law of nature gives sustenance only to those ideas that it deems the fittest.”
Manuel Castells says in The Information Age: “Our world and our lives are being shaped by the conflicting trends of globalisation and identity.”
When we read the Law of the Jungle, we realise how the Mowgli stories were not merely an allegory for the empire for Kipling, but more the allegory of life itself.
The author’s arguments are sympathetic to a man who has a tarnished reputation yet wrote stories that still entertain readers and provide pleasure. Having read this discourse I am left pondering: if an artist should be judged for what he is rather than that which he creates; who arbitrates what is acceptable given evolving rules of cultural acceptability; how deeply we should dissect literature rather than simply enjoying a good read.
Kipling was born in India and raised until he was six years old by his family’s servants. He will have been told myths and stories of the adopted land he loved in these formative years, many of which he wove into his later work. The following six years were a miserable and life altering experience. Sent to Southend to be raised and schooled as an Englishman he was fostered by a couple whose cruelties taught him the harsh realities of abandonment and survival. He returned to India as soon as he could wrest back control, to apprentice as a journalist.
Kipling’s adult life was punctuated by tragedy – two of his children pre-deceased him. His sister suffered a mental breakdown and he had a serious falling out with his brother-in-law which drove him from America. India remained his muse and his daemon, despite only living there sporadically. He described it as ‘the only real home I had yet known.’
Kiplings literary genius was often marred by prejudiced leanings regarding races and nations yet he rarely seems to have felt a part of wherever he lived. Likewise Mowgli, much moreso in his books than in the popular Disney film, struggled with a desire to belong in the jungle despite knowing he was a man, not the wolf he had been raised.
The author mulls how his story may be applied today:
“Mowgli was born in the golden dawn of the era of globalisation, when the progress of science and technology had started opening up the boundaries of the world. In the present scenario, as technology brings the communities of the world into instant contact with the click of a mouse, our world truly becomes a global village. But the flipside of this technology boom is the way in which the diversity of our world is often in an open confrontation which makes our world more of a global jungle than a global village, where the ruthless law of nature gives sustenance only to those ideas that it deems the fittest.”
Manuel Castells says in The Information Age: “Our world and our lives are being shaped by the conflicting trends of globalisation and identity.”
When we read the Law of the Jungle, we realise how the Mowgli stories were not merely an allegory for the empire for Kipling, but more the allegory of life itself.
The author’s arguments are sympathetic to a man who has a tarnished reputation yet wrote stories that still entertain readers and provide pleasure. Having read this discourse I am left pondering: if an artist should be judged for what he is rather than that which he creates; who arbitrates what is acceptable given evolving rules of cultural acceptability; how deeply we should dissect literature rather than simply enjoying a good read.
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