Mr. Rajapakse goes to Corfu

Of course Dead Man's Rock (1887), the novel by 'Q' (Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch) I have written about in recent months, was not the first work of fiction in English to be set in Ceylon. That distinction, it is generally agreed, goes to William Knighton's Forest-Life in Ceylon (London: Hurst and Blackett, 1854), a groundbreaking 'fictionalised memoir' published in two volumes.

The latter half of the 19th century saw the first instances of British authors choosing the island as a setting for tales of one sort or another. It is a creative process that has been going on for very nearly 150 years, the most recent example being Peter Adamson's impressive debut novel Facing Out to Sea (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1997).

I was surprised to discover that Cassell, the London publishers of Dead Man's Rock, had promoted it as a "book for boys" together with other classics of the period that the company published, such as Treasure Island and King Solomon's Mines. But then, as Ian Goonetileke has pointed out to me, it is remarkable that 'Q' was quite young himself - only 22 or 23 - when he wrote Dead Man's Rock in the mid-1880s.

Ian informs me that when he was attending school, 'Q's textbooks On the Art of Reading and On the Art of Writing were very much in use. "He was held up as a role model for style and how to get the most out of a book. I still treasure the edition of the Oxford Book of English Verse he compiled and edited in 1939," Ian wrote to me recently.

He has yet again demonstrated his extraordinary bibliographical knowledge by providing me with the titles of several other novels for younger readers published in the years between Forest-Life in Ceylon and Dead Man's Rock. Little wonder he has been described by the late Prof. A. J. Gunawardena as "the source of first and last resort".

The titles Ian has given me are: Lost in Ceylon: The Story of a Boy and a Girl's Adventures in the Woods and the Wilds of the Lion King of Kandy (London: Griffith and Farrar, 1861), by William Dalton, and Through Peril to Fortune: A Story of Sport and Adventure by Land and Sea (London: Cassell, Petter, Galpin and Co., 1880), by Louis F. Liesching.

While on the subject of Ian Goonetileke, I must inform readers of another major contribution he has made to Sri Lankan research that I failed to mention in my previous article, "The Quest for the Hyacinth". Together with the late Prof. Ralph Pieris and Prof. S. Arasaratnam, Ian was instrumental in founding The Ceylon Journal of Historical and Social Studies in 1958. For some twenty-five years, before it ceased publication in the early 1980s, many eminent scholars in the social sciences, history, and the arts, used this journal to cut their earliest academic teeth.

In addition, I have to confess that I gave 1993 as the year of publication of Navrang's facsimile of Robert Knox's An Historical Relation of the Island Ceylon (1681), which contains an Introduction by Ian. This, of course, was the date of the reprint. In fact it was first published in facsimile in 1983. Incidentally, Ian informs me that the follow up research to his 1975 study of Knox has been finished and is due to be published this year in Volumes 24 and 25 of The Sri Lanka Journal of the Humanities.

Ian's knowledge of works of creative literature concerning the island is just as awesome as his knowledge of factual books. Here are merely a few of the titles published during the first quarter or so of the 20th century that Ian has on file and has been generous enough to give me:

Cecily in Ceylon (London: Lynwood and Co., 1914), by F.A. Symons, Viola Hudson (London: 1923), by I.C. Clarke, A Marriage in Ceylon (London: Eveleigh Nash and Grayson Ltd., 1925), by Isabel Smith, An Ensign of the 19th Foot: A Novel of Empire (London: Heath Granton Ltd., 1925), by Charles Reith, and Billy in Ceylon (London: Jarrolds, 1929), by Maurice L.W. Wiltshire.

The plantation novel El ephant Walk (London: Peter Davies, 1948), by Robert Standish, is probably the best known of all the novels by British authors set in Ceylon. Certainly it was the first such novel I came across twenty or so years ago. A lesser-known example of the same vintage as Elephant Walk given to me by Ian is Kurumba: A Novel (London: Eyre and Spottiswoode, 1949), by Sir John Edward Heygate.

According to Ian, other novels of the post-Independence period include Eve with her Basket (London: William Heinemann, 1951), by Carl Fallas, Idiot's Vision (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1951), by Harry Williams (author of the excellent factual book, Ceylon – Pearl of the Orient [1950] and the delightful children's novel, With Robert Knox in Ceylon [1964]), Shadow in Saffron: A Novel (London: Thames and Hudson, 1953), by G.R. Fazakerley, The Twins in Ceylon, (London: Jonathan Cape, 1957), another novel by Harry Williams, and Moonstone Jungle (London: Jarrolds, 1961), by Simon Harvester.

One of the more familiar novels of recent decades featuring the island - and which is the subject of this article - is Dangerous Inheritance (London: Hutchinson, 1965), by Dennis Wheatley (1897-1977), an author considered to be one of the grandmasters of the occult genre. As it is more of a crime thriller, Dangerous Inheritance doesn't really fit into this genre, but it does feature one of Wheatley's recurring characters, the "Duke de Richlieu", who did have to grapple with occult forces in other novels.

In all, Dennis Wheatley wrote ten "Duke de Richlieu" books. In fact his very first novel, Forbidden Territory (1933), featured this character. Other Duke de "Richlieu" novels are The Devil Rides Out (1934) - which is one of his most popular books - The Golden Spaniard (1938), Strange Conflict (1941), Codeword - Golden Fleece (1946), The Second Seal (1950), The Prisoner in the Mask (1957), Vendetta in Spain (1961) and Gateway to Hell (1970). Hutchinson of London published all these books.

I acquired a copy of Dangerous Inheritance and first read it sometime in the late 1970s. I remember very little of the novel from that initial reading, apart from the fact it was set during the turbulent years of the late 1950s and early 1960s, that the in heritance of the title was a Ratnapura gem mine, and that it featured a climactic scene where the Duke de Richlieu threatens to blow up the Dalada Maligawa. So it was that a hazy memory and a sudden, re-kindled curiosity about novels concerning the island - in the wake of reading Dead Man's Rock - led me to extract my rather dog-eared paperback copy of Dangerous Inheritance from the bookcase.

Dangerous Inheritance opens in Corfu, the home of the Duke de Richlieu, in April 1958. De Richlieu has four guests at his villa - Marie Lou and Richard Eaton, their daughter Fleur, and young Truscott Van Ryn. Richard Eaton, a self-confessed reactionary ("I'm just an old fogey who regrets the passing of the British Empire"), is discussing with his wife and de Richlieu the prospects of Fleur marrying Trusscott. They are interrupted when a letter arrives for de Richlieu.

"He saw that the envelope was typed and carried a Ceylonese stamp. As he turned the letter over, the psychic sense with which he was endowed made him strangely reluctant to open it. Had he relied on his instinct and, without reading the letter, had it burnt, that would have been far better, for its contents were fated to bring pain and grief to his four guests, and himself into great danger."

The letter is from Messrs. Rutnam and Rajapakse, a firm of Colombo solicitors, and signed by a partner, Anton Rajapakse. From this letter, de Richlieu learns that his cousin, Count Ivan Plackoff, who had bought a Ratnapura gem mine and settled in Ceylon during the 1920s, had died twenty years ago.

It was presumed that the Count had left the property, called Olenevka, to his manager, Ukwatte d'Azavedo. However, in recent months the witness to the will had confessed on his deathbed that he had known the will to be a forgery and that he had been bribed to keep silent by d'Azavedo. The senior partner of the firm Rutnam and Rajapakse recalled that the Count had, some years previous to his death, made a genuine will leaving everything to his cousin, the Duke. The writer of the letter suggests that the firm should start legal proceedings on the Duke's behalf to claim his inheritance, and that he should come out to Ceylon to see the property.

It was a long time since de Richlieu had travelled outside Europe and over thirty years since he had visited Ceylon. He remembered the island as an exceptionally beautiful place, so the idea of going there again appealed to him.

De Richlieu informs his guests of the strange turn of events and that he is contemplating flying out to Ceylon. As he is eighty-three, however, his guests protest at the idea. Eventually de Richlieu yields and instead decides to cable Rajapakse and request that he comes to Corfu to provide him with further particulars.

Fleur, a thoroughly modern late-1950s girl, seduces the younger Trusscott and a passionate relationship blossoms between them. Dennis Wheatley, who was 65 when he wrote the book, strives hard – sometimes a little too hard - to make Fleurs's dialogue contemporaneous and liberal-minded. ("I lost it when I was seventeen, during my season", "A friend of Daddy's made a pass at me and I didn't take much seducing", etc.)

Yet Fleur is no empty-headed bimbo, but an intelligent, enlightened and opinionated woman ready to defy social convention. In fact she is a remarkable fictional personality from a literary era not noted for many strong female characters.

Her socialist leanings and negative attitude towards colonialism are revealed during a conversation regarding Corfu's history. (The island was made a British Protectorate in 1815.) Her father pontificates on the advantages of colonialism, making out that in the instance of Corfu, it was entirely beneficial to the island's inhabitants.

"I don't believe in it in any instance,' Fleur said quickly. 'It's fundamentally and morally wrong that any race should order another about.'

Richard laughed, not very happily. 'Now she's off on her hobbyhorse. She conveniently ignores the immense good that superior races have done for backward peoples."

This is the first of many discussions about colonialism in Dangerous Inheritance, in particular the colonial experience endured by the Ceylonese. It is also the prelude to the omnipresent theme of contemporary politics in Ceylon, which plays an important part in the orchestration of the novel: hence, why I cover this aspect in some detail. Both sides of the political divide are represented, but there is little doubt about Wheatley's sympathies, for it becomes abundantly clear quite early on that he strongly disapproves of Bandara-naike's policies.

De Richlieu informs his guests that he has received a reply to his cable, and that Rajapakse is sending his son, Douglas, a junior partner in the firm, to Corfu.

"Fleur at once said, 'We were talking about colonialism the other day, and there's a case for you. The Sinhalese are a wonderful people. They were civilised long before we were and had splendid cities when London was only a collection of mud huts. But the Portuguese, the Dutch and then the British conquered and enslaved them. For the past three centuries they haven't had a chance. But since they were given their independence they've done absolute marvels. Ceylon is now a model for any self-governing state."

Fleur gives a run-down of events from Independence to 1956 and reveals that she learned about the political development of Ceylon when she studied sociology. She then goes on to denounce the Senanayakes and Sir John Kotelawala as perpetuators of the British Raj, and hails the progressive policies instituted by S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike.

"And where is the money coming from to pay for all this?' Richard demanded. 'From the docks and the railways we built for them; and the British tea planters. If the planters decided to pack up, Ceylon would be bankrupt within twelve months.'

'Oh, you're incorrigible, Daddy,' Fleur flared. 'And you're wrong, too. The Ceylonese would take over the plantations and run them just as well."

Douglas Rajapakse ar rives. He is a little under thirty, handsome, well educated, perfectly mannered and impeccably dressed. ('He showed neither the subservience that many coloured people display towards Europeans, nor its opposite: a brash self-assertiveness.')

Soon Fleur gets Douglas talking about Ceylon and its progress since Independence. He begins by lavishing praise on the contribution made by D.S. Senanayake.

"But Mr. Bandaranaike has done much more for the people,' Fleur said quickly.

'For some of the people.' Rajapakse's white teeth flashed in a quick smile. 'To retain the support of his extreme left-wing colleagues he has had to fulfil his promises to them, and you can hardly expect these policies to find favour with people like myself...the wealthier families in Ceylon are enlightened people. We are not averse to handing over a good part of our incomes for the public benefit, but that does not deprive us of our right to disapprove of the way in which our Government is spending it."

Douglas goes on to suggest that the Government had abandoned socialist principles and discriminated against Tamils. ("So you see it is not only the rich who have reason to feel that Mr. Bandaranaike is not giving them a fair deal.")

De Richlieu nodded his wise head. 'I read something in The Times last week about Bandaranaike having abrogated a pact that he had made with the Tamil leader, and that it was likely to lead to serious trouble'.

"You are right, sir.' Rajapakse gave a sudden grin. 'And it may prove, as you might say, "the last straw that broke the Tamil's back"'.

Trusscott soon realises, to his horror, that Fleur is attracted to Douglas. His jealousy is inflamed, largely due to his racism. ("For a white woman to allow a coloured man to lay his hands on her is to demean herself.")

One day, while all three are enjoying a sea swim, Douglas gets into difficulties and is swept away. Trusscott makes little effort to save him, due to a failure of nerve. Believing him to have drowned, Fleur and Trusscott return to the villa. Fleur accuses Trusscott of failing to rescue him. At which point Douglas - bedraggled, exhausted but alive - appears at the door.

When Fleur kisses and hugs Douglas with relief her mother objects to her familiarity. Fleur replies by announcing that Douglas and she love one another and that they intend to return to Ceylon together to get married. The terrifying spectre of mixed marriage looms large before her predictably conventional parents.

End of Part One.

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