Plus

Plus

Book

Random revelations of the end
'Exodus 2300' by Carl Muller. Reviewed by Asoka Gunawardena
There has been no stranger writer of fiction than Carl Muller. He sees it all his way and appears to be vastly indifferent about what people say or think about him. I remember a review of his book of essays, 'Firing at Random' where Professor Scott of the USA declared it to be the wholesale slaughter of sacred cows! That, fortunately, is Carl Muller.

That he can be full of wisecracking humour, regale us with the sort of stuff that is most unparliamentary, write with scant respect for anybody and can also produce epic-style books that are the fruit of passionate history and over-enthusiastic research, then descend to unspeakable ribaldry, then soar out of these cesspits of his own making to sing other songs in a softer tone, is what makes him so unpredictable. Now, to make confusion worse confounded, he takes us into the future, to the last days of this planet, its final destruction and the salvation of the remnant good.

This book makes a fast-paced, cracking good read. It could be most unreal in spots totally mind-boggling in patches, but it also remains so down-to-earth. He has a knack of making reality of what is thought mythic and yet, as the story rolls on from one country to another, one continent to another, there is a rationality about it all that makes it spyfication, science-fiction, futuristic-fiction and it is all so closely connected with what the sacred texts describes as the Apocalypse, the Kalpa Vinasa, the final Armageddon, the end of the world. Muller orchestrates it all with a hard grip on the Biblical texts as well as the way he stage sets his novel. It is hard to understand how a writer can first conjure up the end of his story, then begin at the beginning. Perhaps this is a new literary device, but if the world is going to end in an all-engorging Black Hole, the Black Hole has to be first created. Remarkably enough, Muller has deigned for once to explain himself. The Prologue is nerve-wracking. Then, there is an 'Interwrite' that argues with some force what this idea of God is and what the 'star people' - the 'sons of God' are.

The second part of the book is a descent into a maelstrom, the destruction of every petty idea sown in our minds by those proponents of the organized religions that have made the world a veritable circus. Muller seems to move in his own orbit, challenging, probing, pronouncing, dismissing, even opposing, but he does not deviate from what all religions speak of: the end of time. Suddenly, the skies are filled with the thought-sensitive ships of the stars, the moving of a planetoid to dock with the Earth, the awesome final battle between good and evil. The religious symbols become literary symbols with an ease that unnerves.

It took three-and a half days for Christ to die on the cross and rise again. It takes the same time for Satan to arrive in person, driven out of his command post on Mars. The beast is identified with the 666 centres he causes to be built across the world and the 666 massive UFOs that form dark umbrellas over the world's cities. The Ark of the Covenant is the end-time bomb that shatters the dreams of all Earth-kind and yet, salvation is assured and Sri Lanka becomes the island of refuge.

Muller has obviously no truck with the religious humbuggery this world is steeped in. This is why, when the good are ferried away to the stars, he gives us an 'Afterwrite' that will surely upset a lot of religious apple carts. He tells us that there are no 'chosen people'. Everybody merits salvation, an afterlife of joy. Love is the key, the operative word. In this strangely twisted and incredibly imaginative novel, Muller insists on the oneness of all-that there is a paradise for all who live according to their faith.
The second book of the novel puts us squarely with the resistance in a secret hide-away in Polonnaruwa and brings into focus the new 'champion of the stars' - the President of Sri Lanka. Take this excerpt:

'With a trembling population of scarcely one million remaining, with men, women and children reciting their Buddhist gathas in ruined temples, screaming to God in desolate churches, the star force took over. One craft swept Dr. Gladwin Karunaratne, David Martin and two other Sri Lankans of the resistance to Colombo. They found the President lying in a small puddle of his blood. Karunaratne rushed to the fallen man. "He's alive!" he exclaimed, and called for help.

Prime Minister Devadas led him aside. "This have we taken from Kandy," he said, "it must be held safe." Karunaratne gasped at the sight of the gleaming casket. "The Sacred Tooth Relic!" he exclaimed. "How was it brought here?" "The President. He simply placed it upon his head and walked out even as the temple burned around him."

Shaking his head, Karunaratne turned to Martin. "The injuries are not serious. Nothing ruptured. He will be fine, but sore all over for a week. Took a knife cut in his right arm. I've got a compression bandage in place." "But we've got to take him out of here."
Prime Minister Devadas showed concern. "Take him away? But where?"

A blue light seemed to glow at every window and they fell silent as a white-robed figure entered. Martin smiled. This had to be one of the star people. "Can you take us back? We have one man in bad shape." The creature smiled. "That be the one who saved the Relic of the Enlightened One. Yes, he will be strong again and much more courage given that he will endure."

Martin's forehead creased. "What's he saying?" he asked, "What Enlightened One?"
"The Buddha, my friend. For centuries have we held the Tooth Relic of the Buddha as the palladium of this island, the symbol of our faith and culture and making. The Buddha is our great world teacher just as is your Christ. The Relic must be kept safe at all times."

Martin saw the creature bend over the President, saw the aura of blue that surrounded the injured man. President Wijeyewardena smiled, raised himself on an elbow.
"The Relic," he exclaimed, "where is it?" "It is with us, safe," Devadas said. "Ah, then everything will be right for us." The president got to his feet, shook hands with Martin and Karunaratne. He nodded to the white-robed figure. "You come from a world beyond, do you not?" "Yes."

"Your gift of life streams in me. And we still hold the Relic. It is the light that will drive away all evil." He looked around "What now, gentlemen?" "Much needs to be done," said the being. "return you to the hideout or remain in the city. We are now established. You, Nalin Wijeyewardena, must come with me. You are chosen. Yours is the final battle and the strength of your faith, the strength of the Relic of the Enlightened One, the strength of the stars will give you victory over the beast. Come. The time of the end approaches."

An armada of the star fleet ringed the coastal plains, establishing an impregnable magnetic cordon over and around the island. From the lead ship in Colombo a call went out, reaching far into space, radiating to every corner of the world.
"We are established. Let the countdown begin."

I will not go on. The final battle between the Sri Lankan President and the Demon is mind-blowing. At the end of it all one can only look around, see a truly miserable, corrupt world and think: 'Carl Muller has done it again!' He has now given us a New Testament of faith that has every right to be read, not only in Sri Lanka but the world over. He has given us religion in his own way and his mind seems to be spinning among the stars. He has even given us the thoughts of the greatest mystic and philosophers. Thoughts that accompany each chapter. Unbelievable? As I said at the beginning, there has been no stranger writer. He is unique.

Back to Plus