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Black Narcissus
Under the guidance of Sister Clodagh, the youngest Mother Superior in the history of their order, five European Sisters of the Servants of Mary leave their monastery in Darjeeling, India, and make their way to remote Mopu in the foothills of the Himalayan Mountains. There, in the opulent, abandoned palace where an Indian general housed his harem, the holy sisters hope to establish a school and a health clinic. Their aim is to help combat superstition, ignorance, and disease among the mistrusting natives in the village below, and to silence the doubts of their royal benefactor's agent, the hard-drinking and somewhat disreputable Mr. Dean.
But all too soon, the isolation, the ghosts and lurid history, and the literally breathtaking beauty of this high, lonely place in the Asian mountains begin to take a serious toll on Sister Clodagh and her fellow nuns. And their burdens may prove too heavy to bear, exposing a vulnerable humanity that threatens to undermine the best intentions of the purest hearts.
But all too soon, the isolation, the ghosts and lurid history, and the literally breathtaking beauty of this high, lonely place in the Asian mountains begin to take a serious toll on Sister Clodagh and her fellow nuns. And their burdens may prove too heavy to bear, exposing a vulnerable humanity that threatens to undermine the best intentions of the purest hearts.
224 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1939
About the author
Rumer Godden
140 books507 followersMargaret Rumer Godden was an English author of more than 60 fiction and non-fiction books. Nine of her works have been made into films, most notably Black Narcissus in 1947 and The River in 1951.
A few of her works were co-written with her elder sister, novelist Jon Godden, including Two Under the Indian Sun, a memoir of the Goddens' childhood in a region of India now part of Bangladesh.
A few of her works were co-written with her elder sister, novelist Jon Godden, including Two Under the Indian Sun, a memoir of the Goddens' childhood in a region of India now part of Bangladesh.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 429 reviews
April 22, 2024
High in the hills of the Himalayas five English Anglican nuns are sent to build a school , hospital and a chapel to help the natives in India but the sisters are the ones who will receive an education. The previous attempt by The Brothers lasted five months, something inexplicable, unforeseen, unsaid materialized and words are inadequate to explain the phenomenon that caused the failure or is it real? Set apparently in the 1930's when communication was almost nonexistent in the mountainous area taking horses to arrive in the old palace previously a place a general kept his concubines. His son is ashamed spending his vast wealth ( well a small part) to change the memories, however the natives don't forget. Sister Clodagh the leader is the youngest Sister Superior in the order yet unsure of her ability to be successful, the mission quite arduous. Mr. Dean an Englishman working for the general his reputation not the best, drinking excessively, chasing women, dressing like a bum, nevertheless the imperfect man is indispensable to the nuns goals. The group struggles , unable to speak the language of the people here, the servants dislike the foreigners , primitive living conditions, the high elevation makes the sisters ill. Not all is well in the convent too, young Sister Ruth is showing more stress than the others, falling in love with Mr. Dean, he isn't interested in a neurotic nun. Moreover quite jealous Sister Ruth is of Sister Clodagh, whenever he looks at her, a showdown draws near and what follows brings not a monsoon but something deadlier. And the nephew Dilip Rai of the old general a student in the convent causes turmoil, a pretty girl Kanchi there enjoys his company. The beauty of the elegant mountains they see, the permanent snow -capped massive Himalayas towering over the world are perpetual, a majestic, stunning, mesmerizing object you the little creatures looking up feel small...are the closest sight of heaven on Earth, and the minuscule troubles we have are insignificant to them, the peaks will long endure while humans are forgotten. A classic for serious readers, this takes you to a remote corner of the planet and the atmosphere there no longer exists, everything changes for the better or the worst, this also is reality. A wonderful book that is hard to let go, it remains a gem. And for cinema lovers a superb film version released in 1947 with Deborah Kerr, she is a treat to look at. The magnificent colors are breathtaking and only film can capture the glories of this land...
May 6, 2015
If you have read The Nun's Story by Kathryn Hulme or seen the film starring the exquisite Audrey Hepburn, then you will immediately recognise that Rumer Godden's Black Narcissus is a similar story transplanted to the cold windiness of the Himalayas from the feverish heat of the Belgian Congo. The seductive Dr. Fortunati of the Nun's Story becomes the British agent, Mr. Dean, in the Black Narcissus.
If you like nun's stories with plenty of sexual tension, a tragic death, and natives who don't live up to expectations then both these books (and films) are very good. They are essentially variations on a theme and both reach the same conclusion: a convent of European nuns in medieval outfits, no matter how well-meaning, are going to find it impossible to impose their philosophy, morals or culture in any way on the local populace and they should probably go home sooner rather than later, but if they choose to stay... expect tragedy!
If you like nun's stories with plenty of sexual tension, a tragic death, and natives who don't live up to expectations then both these books (and films) are very good. They are essentially variations on a theme and both reach the same conclusion: a convent of European nuns in medieval outfits, no matter how well-meaning, are going to find it impossible to impose their philosophy, morals or culture in any way on the local populace and they should probably go home sooner rather than later, but if they choose to stay... expect tragedy!
July 22, 2023
When I run into fiction that I think is marvelous, I am totally blown away. I admire an author who is able to create a moving story based solely on their imagination and creative ability. Their life experiences will naturally play in too. They make something wonderful from nothing; they make something new that has never existed before. This deserves recognition and applause.
This book is intense; you are drawn in and don’t want to put it down. It has humor, and I liked very much what it says. The prose is lovely.
What to tell you? First of all the GR book description compares this to A Passage to India. Forget that. The only thing the two have in common is that both are set in India!
The characters are some nuns in a cloister up on a high mountain outside Darjeeling, India, in the Himalayan foothills. They open a dispensary and a school to the local Indian population. A chapel is to be built, and that is what you see on the cover of the book. The clouds and the blue sky and the winds are as much a part of the chapel as the place. This is a story about place and culture and what happens when one culture imposes upon another. That is all I am going to say. The message of the book is fantastic. The message is relayed by putting the reader in a place that feels both magical and real.
I laughed and I laughed. I marveled at the beauty of the place the author drew with her words. Vivid prose. It is a quickly read novel, but its message is meaningful. What more do you want from a book? You want to care for the characters and each one has to become a separate identity. You get that here too. The nuns will have you laughing and crying and thinking. The story captivates, builds to a pitch and ends well.
Rumer Godden grew up with her three sisters in Narayanganj, colonial India, which is now Bangladesh. She knows India, its people, their thinking and their traditions. This is evident in her ability to capture the atmosphere of place. In the 1950s she became interested in the Catholic Church but didn't convert until 1968. Black Narcissus was published long before, in 1939. In this novel she captures the human reality of religious life.
The narration of the audiobook is by Jilly Bond. I absolutely loved it. She uses different intonations for the native Indians, for the respective nuns and for the English agent Mr. Dean. Wails and sobs, strong baritone voices and native dialects - each and every one was perfect. Do listen to this if you possibly can. I think the narration adds to one’s appreciation of the lines. The narration I have given five stars.
This book is intense; you are drawn in and don’t want to put it down. It has humor, and I liked very much what it says. The prose is lovely.
What to tell you? First of all the GR book description compares this to A Passage to India. Forget that. The only thing the two have in common is that both are set in India!
The characters are some nuns in a cloister up on a high mountain outside Darjeeling, India, in the Himalayan foothills. They open a dispensary and a school to the local Indian population. A chapel is to be built, and that is what you see on the cover of the book. The clouds and the blue sky and the winds are as much a part of the chapel as the place. This is a story about place and culture and what happens when one culture imposes upon another. That is all I am going to say. The message of the book is fantastic. The message is relayed by putting the reader in a place that feels both magical and real.
I laughed and I laughed. I marveled at the beauty of the place the author drew with her words. Vivid prose. It is a quickly read novel, but its message is meaningful. What more do you want from a book? You want to care for the characters and each one has to become a separate identity. You get that here too. The nuns will have you laughing and crying and thinking. The story captivates, builds to a pitch and ends well.
Rumer Godden grew up with her three sisters in Narayanganj, colonial India, which is now Bangladesh. She knows India, its people, their thinking and their traditions. This is evident in her ability to capture the atmosphere of place. In the 1950s she became interested in the Catholic Church but didn't convert until 1968. Black Narcissus was published long before, in 1939. In this novel she captures the human reality of religious life.
The narration of the audiobook is by Jilly Bond. I absolutely loved it. She uses different intonations for the native Indians, for the respective nuns and for the English agent Mr. Dean. Wails and sobs, strong baritone voices and native dialects - each and every one was perfect. Do listen to this if you possibly can. I think the narration adds to one’s appreciation of the lines. The narration I have given five stars.
July 28, 2023
Rumer Godden wrote beautifully but in this case wrote of a very small universe. Black Narcissus is set in the Himalayas above Darjeeling. Five nuns have been sent as an outpost for their Anglican order to start a school, dispensary and a place to do good work among the people who live near what was once a harem, of all things. As might be expected, good intentions can go in unexpected directions.
The nuns are led by a capable young nun who has her hands full. With the nuns she runs into misunderstandings, jealousies and difficult personalities. Everyone is effected by the winds, the cold, and the remoteness. Misunderstandings plague their relationship with the native people as well. There is also an Englishman, a tea plantation manager who is necessary to their well being. He is sometimes rude and always contrary. The setting and its effects sometimes reminds me of Wuthering Heights and Mr. Dean has a whiff of Heathcliff about him.
It is easy to become absorbed in this book which takes place before World War II. The location has some similarities to Lost Horizon, by James Hilton, but this is no Shangri-La.
The nuns are led by a capable young nun who has her hands full. With the nuns she runs into misunderstandings, jealousies and difficult personalities. Everyone is effected by the winds, the cold, and the remoteness. Misunderstandings plague their relationship with the native people as well. There is also an Englishman, a tea plantation manager who is necessary to their well being. He is sometimes rude and always contrary. The setting and its effects sometimes reminds me of Wuthering Heights and Mr. Dean has a whiff of Heathcliff about him.
It is easy to become absorbed in this book which takes place before World War II. The location has some similarities to Lost Horizon, by James Hilton, but this is no Shangri-La.
December 2, 2023
3.5 Because I learned two things.
1) The most shocking scene in the film is NOT in the book.
2) The most shocking scene in the book is NOT in the film.
An easy read that I doubt I'll repeat. Made me value all the more the artistry
of its 1947 filmmakers.
1) The most shocking scene in the film is NOT in the book.
2) The most shocking scene in the book is NOT in the film.
An easy read that I doubt I'll repeat. Made me value all the more the artistry
of its 1947 filmmakers.
May 25, 2022
This was an unexpected read this month with an atmospheric setting at the heights of the Himalayas in Mopu, India. A group of Anglican nuns are tasked with establishing a new convent in an abandoned and isolated palace. Once called ‘the House of Women’, the General’s harem lived here in a very unbridled and wild fashion before being turned out. Now the nuns have been gifted the palace in order to start a hospital and a school for the locals in the community. Prior to their arrival, a group of missionary brothers had unsuccessfully tried to do the exact same thing, but gave up and left after a short time.
The Sisters arrive and set to their tasks and roles as they try to adapt to their new surroundings, location, and the local people who do not share their spiritual or moral beliefs. Mopu and its mysterious ways somehow gets under the sister’s skin causing some odd and affected behavior. Disoriented and distracted by the altitude and the beauty, the sisters find their tasks extremely difficult. The Sister Superior finds herself constantly remembering her past and the man she was supposed to marry. Sister Honey finds herself too attached to the children and another sister exhibits psychological troubles. They are assisted by an English agent of the General, Mr. Dean, who clearly advises them many times that this is no place for them. The culture of Mopu is so different from any they’ve known previously and despite Mr. Dean’s warnings and advice, the nuns struggle to grasp the local traditions and superstitions. As the novel progresses, the reader questions whether the nuns are doomed as the brothers were.
This is an atmospheric and mysterious novel but the tone is very quiet and controlled. The tension created between two of the sisters is sensed within their inner thoughts and through their repressed feelings and desires which has the makings of a tragedy. Mixed in are beautiful and exotic descriptions of the place, the mountains that mesmerize the sisters and distract them from their faith and religious practices.
The Sisters arrive and set to their tasks and roles as they try to adapt to their new surroundings, location, and the local people who do not share their spiritual or moral beliefs. Mopu and its mysterious ways somehow gets under the sister’s skin causing some odd and affected behavior. Disoriented and distracted by the altitude and the beauty, the sisters find their tasks extremely difficult. The Sister Superior finds herself constantly remembering her past and the man she was supposed to marry. Sister Honey finds herself too attached to the children and another sister exhibits psychological troubles. They are assisted by an English agent of the General, Mr. Dean, who clearly advises them many times that this is no place for them. The culture of Mopu is so different from any they’ve known previously and despite Mr. Dean’s warnings and advice, the nuns struggle to grasp the local traditions and superstitions. As the novel progresses, the reader questions whether the nuns are doomed as the brothers were.
This is an atmospheric and mysterious novel but the tone is very quiet and controlled. The tension created between two of the sisters is sensed within their inner thoughts and through their repressed feelings and desires which has the makings of a tragedy. Mixed in are beautiful and exotic descriptions of the place, the mountains that mesmerize the sisters and distract them from their faith and religious practices.
May 15, 2022
If you want to be thoroughly depressed, this is the book for you!
Five nuns arrive at a former harem in the Himalayas that has been gifted to them. A group of brothers has already tried & failed to establish a Catholic stronghold there. While the nuns (lead by the strongminded Sister Clodagh) wonder about this and Mr Dean, the local representative of the British Empire, strongly tries to warn the nuns off, but they are undeterred. But then the insanity starts...
Rumer Godden is one of my all-time favourite authors, but even though I have given this 4★ it would be the novel of hers I have liked the least. The high rating is for the excellent story structure & evocative language, as well as the occasional flash of humour;
(I have to say, The Little General enchanted me!)
The whole novel ripples with madness and repressed sexual tension. I wouldn't say I enjoyed the read, but I did appreciate the book.
https://wordpress.com/view/carolshess...
Five nuns arrive at a former harem in the Himalayas that has been gifted to them. A group of brothers has already tried & failed to establish a Catholic stronghold there. While the nuns (lead by the strongminded Sister Clodagh) wonder about this and Mr Dean, the local representative of the British Empire, strongly tries to warn the nuns off, but they are undeterred. But then the insanity starts...
Rumer Godden is one of my all-time favourite authors, but even though I have given this 4★ it would be the novel of hers I have liked the least. The high rating is for the excellent story structure & evocative language, as well as the occasional flash of humour;
"There are several ways," he said shyly, "in which I'm trying to improve myself. I have a great many books and records and now I'm learning to play golf. Do you know golf, Sister? The English think it's a very serious game. I was going to learn a much more serious game called cricket, but you need twenty two people..."
(I have to say, The Little General enchanted me!)
The whole novel ripples with madness and repressed sexual tension. I wouldn't say I enjoyed the read, but I did appreciate the book.
https://wordpress.com/view/carolshess...
September 24, 2020
What a great book! This was one of those spur of the moment reads when I saw the trailer for the BBC production to be released in December. It's been on my list for years, and as I always like to read the book before seeing the film, I figured I'd better get on the stick and get it read. Great decision on my part.
Five nuns travel to the Himalayas to open a convent to teach and provide medical care to a small village. They are housed in the palace that was formerly the residence of his harem, despite the fact that religious brothers of their own order had tried and failed to do the same thing. They are all bewitched by the mountain and the people, (not in a woo-woo kind of way), and begin to follow their own hearts instead of their religion. There is tragedy in the making, not the least of which is caused by their own arrogance at assuming they know what's better for the natives than the natives themselves. They ignore the advice of Mr. Dean, an Englishman who had lived in the area for years, again because of arrogance and pride.
Rumer Godden could certainly tell a riveting story, and I could hardly put the book down in the final few chapters. She's one of those former best-selling novelists who have been forgotten about and fallen out of style, but she's worth resurrecting when you need a good book.
Five nuns travel to the Himalayas to open a convent to teach and provide medical care to a small village. They are housed in the palace that was formerly the residence of his harem, despite the fact that religious brothers of their own order had tried and failed to do the same thing. They are all bewitched by the mountain and the people, (not in a woo-woo kind of way), and begin to follow their own hearts instead of their religion. There is tragedy in the making, not the least of which is caused by their own arrogance at assuming they know what's better for the natives than the natives themselves. They ignore the advice of Mr. Dean, an Englishman who had lived in the area for years, again because of arrogance and pride.
Rumer Godden could certainly tell a riveting story, and I could hardly put the book down in the final few chapters. She's one of those former best-selling novelists who have been forgotten about and fallen out of style, but she's worth resurrecting when you need a good book.
July 10, 2017
In northern India, the former harem palace of Mopu is situated in the windy mountains with a view of the snowy peaks of the Himalayas. The General has invited some English nuns to open a convent school and medical clinic in the building. When they visit the site, the English agent Mr Dean tells them, "This is no place for a nunnery." He can anticipate the clash of cultures and conflicting religious beliefs. But the group of nuns ignores his advice, and transforms the building into the Convent of St Faith.
The religious community includes an inexperienced sister superior, and a nun who gets overly attached to the young children. The sisters find themselves losing connection to their religious vocations so prayer starts to feel like an interruption. Another nun is mentally unstable and paranoid. Her obsession with Mr Dean builds and finally climaxes in a Gothic tragedy.
Rumer Godden writes beautifully with vivid characters, and a strong sense of place. She has written several other books involving nuns (such as "In This House of Brede") and always portrays the unique struggles in the religious life so well. "Black Narcissus" was made into a film in 1947.
The religious community includes an inexperienced sister superior, and a nun who gets overly attached to the young children. The sisters find themselves losing connection to their religious vocations so prayer starts to feel like an interruption. Another nun is mentally unstable and paranoid. Her obsession with Mr Dean builds and finally climaxes in a Gothic tragedy.
Rumer Godden writes beautifully with vivid characters, and a strong sense of place. She has written several other books involving nuns (such as "In This House of Brede") and always portrays the unique struggles in the religious life so well. "Black Narcissus" was made into a film in 1947.
August 7, 2014
Nun's the word. Ya heard? Seriously though, I love nun themed stories, films, books...you name it. Even fake nuns fascinate me. Remember Nuns on the Run and all the Sister Act movies? Exactly. They're hip, devoted, sweet, stern, selfless, and well...sometimes down right scary!
I fell in love with the film adaptation of Godden's Black Narcissus many years ago, and vowed to read the book because there were certain aspects of the plot that I didn't really understand. Now that I've read it, I am even more fascinated and enamored with the concept this book.
A small order of nuns are invited high into the Himalayas to set up a convent in a rundown palace that once served as a king's harem. At first daunted by the altitude, pagan mountain people, and the unmatched beauty of the peaks, they're eventually lulled into the spirit of the palace. As their spirituality wanes, each sister is tried out by their own secret desires. Godden laid the plot and different perspectives in a wonderful way! You never knew what was around the corner, but you were constantly reminded that something sinister was afoot.
Because most of her books are out of print, I find myself always on the lookout when I visit bookstores and thrift shops. I've been pretty fortunate! In fact just this week I was fortunate to catch the movie adaptation of her book The Battle of the Villa Fiorita on TCM, starring Maureen O'Hara, and then later that week I found a vintage copy at a local nonprofit bookstore. What a coincidence! I think it's safe to say that Godden is "golden."
I fell in love with the film adaptation of Godden's Black Narcissus many years ago, and vowed to read the book because there were certain aspects of the plot that I didn't really understand. Now that I've read it, I am even more fascinated and enamored with the concept this book.
A small order of nuns are invited high into the Himalayas to set up a convent in a rundown palace that once served as a king's harem. At first daunted by the altitude, pagan mountain people, and the unmatched beauty of the peaks, they're eventually lulled into the spirit of the palace. As their spirituality wanes, each sister is tried out by their own secret desires. Godden laid the plot and different perspectives in a wonderful way! You never knew what was around the corner, but you were constantly reminded that something sinister was afoot.
“Sometimes it seemed to him that the house had a bad wild life of its own; the impression of its evil lingered, in its name, in its atmosphere...”
Because most of her books are out of print, I find myself always on the lookout when I visit bookstores and thrift shops. I've been pretty fortunate! In fact just this week I was fortunate to catch the movie adaptation of her book The Battle of the Villa Fiorita on TCM, starring Maureen O'Hara, and then later that week I found a vintage copy at a local nonprofit bookstore. What a coincidence! I think it's safe to say that Godden is "golden."
October 19, 2010
Rumer Godden's Black Narcissus is out of print, so if you can't find it in your local library or used bookstore, I'd recommend watching the classic film, which is also marvelous. (Deborah Kerr, one of my favorite actresses ever, is in it. Filmmakers Pressburger and Powell also made The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp, that's also fantastic. Kerr is in that too.) I saw it during my "nun phase" of 2002, the year my big sis decided that I was obsessed with nuns 'cause I happened to watch a string of nun-related films around the same time (Audrey Hepburn in A Nun's Story and Ingrid Bergman in The Bells of St. Mary's, among others. Anyone not hell bent on ruining my hard won street cred would've said I had a classical actress thing, but not her, oh no. All her teasing led to an honest nun fixation, oddly enough...
I loved this book about how it is difficult to live as if the rest of the world and everyone in it do not exist. The nuns start a school in the mountains near Darjeeling. Life is no longer closed off, despite the remoteness of their new location, and likewise, their inner lives and desires are no longer closed off to themselves. An attractive man comes into their midst. The sisters must face themselves, sexual desire, competitiveness with each other. (Interesting to me for a religion that has confessions of thinking things like impure thoughts. What about denying you have them and then imploding?) I read this book because I'm a fan of the movie. Both are my favorite stories about nuns. I'm fascinated by the molding of oneself into just one view. Not the sex, so much, as the rigors in life. It feels to me more like going in every which way daily life, little and big stuff that amount to more than you had ever thought. Like John Lennon said, life is what happens when you're busy making plans. People are too complicated, life not black and white like a nun's habit, and admitting that isn't breaking yourself so much as the best part when you realize it isn't over and there's life after mistakes. The spirituality of feeling things. I'm interested in the breaking points and tough exteriors.
July 30, 2023
Ahem, to the tune of Billie Jean~
♪Mr. Dean is not a plumber
He's just a man but Ruth says he is the one
But he won't get down with a nun♪
♪Mr. Dean is not a plumber
He's just a man but Ruth says he is the one
But he won't get down with a nun♪
July 4, 2021
Black Narcissus has been on my TBR for a few years, but only ended up higher on the must-read list when the latest tv adaptation was released last (?) year.
I have not watched it, yet, because I wanted to read the book first. The tv adaptation was, I think, Diana Rigg’s last project, playing Mother Dorothea.
I haven’t even seen the 1947 film, yet, … at least I don’t think I have.
If the adaptations (both tv and film) are as funny and as intense as the book, there is much to look forward to.
The story of the nuns was not exactly a thriller, but I was gripped until the very end. It was great to see that this story was so not what I expected. I thought it would be more akin to The Inn of the Sixth Happiness (the film, I mean), where the endeavours of the missionaries are if not celebrated, then at least praised.
Instead, Godden turns this entirely inside out and the story isn’t much about the “benefits” of nun doing missionary work at all.
I loved seeing how the remoteness, the environment, the landscape of towering mountains, and even the hint at the ghosts of Kanchenjunga – or rather the myth that the mountain drives people mad – played such a major part in the psychological development of the nuns.
(Btw, Michelle Paver’s book Thin Air: A Ghost Story is also a great read that makes use of Kanchenjunga’s legends.)
I really liked this.
Btw, the other book by this author that I have read is In this House of Brede, which also features nuns and was also made into a film starring Diana Rigg. I much preferred, Black Narcissus. There is just something about the setting and the atmosphere that added to the drama of the story.
Review first posted on my blog:
https://brokentuneblog.com/2021/06/08...
I have not watched it, yet, because I wanted to read the book first. The tv adaptation was, I think, Diana Rigg’s last project, playing Mother Dorothea.
I haven’t even seen the 1947 film, yet, … at least I don’t think I have.
If the adaptations (both tv and film) are as funny and as intense as the book, there is much to look forward to.
The story of the nuns was not exactly a thriller, but I was gripped until the very end. It was great to see that this story was so not what I expected. I thought it would be more akin to The Inn of the Sixth Happiness (the film, I mean), where the endeavours of the missionaries are if not celebrated, then at least praised.
Instead, Godden turns this entirely inside out and the story isn’t much about the “benefits” of nun doing missionary work at all.
I loved seeing how the remoteness, the environment, the landscape of towering mountains, and even the hint at the ghosts of Kanchenjunga – or rather the myth that the mountain drives people mad – played such a major part in the psychological development of the nuns.
(Btw, Michelle Paver’s book Thin Air: A Ghost Story is also a great read that makes use of Kanchenjunga’s legends.)
I really liked this.
Btw, the other book by this author that I have read is In this House of Brede, which also features nuns and was also made into a film starring Diana Rigg. I much preferred, Black Narcissus. There is just something about the setting and the atmosphere that added to the drama of the story.
Review first posted on my blog:
https://brokentuneblog.com/2021/06/08...
April 28, 2022
Sometimes I think that India is to the British what slavery is to white Americans—their Original Sin, the external manifestation of the dark thing inside ourselves that we can’t quite see but can’t escape. Rumer Godden seems to have felt this as well, though perhaps she was too close to it to understand it consciously, or lived in an era when it couldn’t be said out loud.
Like many of her novels, Black Narcissus is set in India—where she lived for much of her childhood and some of her adult life—but focuses on British characters living there. In this case, it is a small group of nuns who have been offered the use of a large house in extreme northern India, near the Tibetan border. The local potentate, known as the General, wants to be a good person so he has let the house first to a group of monks, who left after a few months, and now to the Anglo-Catholic sisters, led by Sister Clodagh. The sisters have big plans—to open a school and a medical clinic—and they dive in energetically to build and modernize and plant and organize. They are warned by a local British agent, Mr. Dean, that they won’t be successful and that they don’t understand the local people, but they are full of zeal. (The reader is full of dread.)
Godden herself seems to have believed she understood the local people, and probably she had a better grasp of their culture and beliefs than most British people living in India tried to attain; but still the portrayal of the locals comes off as a bit patronizing. In part that’s because the story is told from Sister Clodagh’s point of view, and in part that’s because the story is being told to British people, in a gently pointed attempt to show them that they shouldn’t interfere with a culture they don’t understand. This mission, which runs through many of her books, makes Godden always an interesting read, as she interrogates the sureties of colonialism.
The wild landscape and the encounters with the locals shake the nuns, each in a different way. One becomes obsessed with the garden; one finds herself carried away by the immensity into dreams of other directions her life might have taken; one is desperate to connect with the local children (she thinks for their sake but really for her own); and one goes mad, if she wasn’t there already. Faced with the cognitive dissonances of their environment, they lose track of their discipline and even their faith.
Godden’s writing is always elegant and evocative, rich with symbolism that makes itself felt but doesn’t hit you over the head. “The house would not conform,” she writes. “The flimsy walls did not shut out the world but made a sounding box for it; through every crack the smell of the world crept in, the smell of rain and sun and earth and the deodar trees and a wind strangely scented with tea. . . . And everywhere in front of them was that far horizon and the eagles in the gulf below the snows. ‘I think you can see too far,’ said Sister Philippa. ‘I look across there, and then I can’t see the potato I’m planting and it doesn’t seem to matter whether I plant it or not.’”
The story has its moments of melodrama and a bit of a flaccid ending, but it’s altogether a journey worth taking.
Like many of her novels, Black Narcissus is set in India—where she lived for much of her childhood and some of her adult life—but focuses on British characters living there. In this case, it is a small group of nuns who have been offered the use of a large house in extreme northern India, near the Tibetan border. The local potentate, known as the General, wants to be a good person so he has let the house first to a group of monks, who left after a few months, and now to the Anglo-Catholic sisters, led by Sister Clodagh. The sisters have big plans—to open a school and a medical clinic—and they dive in energetically to build and modernize and plant and organize. They are warned by a local British agent, Mr. Dean, that they won’t be successful and that they don’t understand the local people, but they are full of zeal. (The reader is full of dread.)
Godden herself seems to have believed she understood the local people, and probably she had a better grasp of their culture and beliefs than most British people living in India tried to attain; but still the portrayal of the locals comes off as a bit patronizing. In part that’s because the story is told from Sister Clodagh’s point of view, and in part that’s because the story is being told to British people, in a gently pointed attempt to show them that they shouldn’t interfere with a culture they don’t understand. This mission, which runs through many of her books, makes Godden always an interesting read, as she interrogates the sureties of colonialism.
The wild landscape and the encounters with the locals shake the nuns, each in a different way. One becomes obsessed with the garden; one finds herself carried away by the immensity into dreams of other directions her life might have taken; one is desperate to connect with the local children (she thinks for their sake but really for her own); and one goes mad, if she wasn’t there already. Faced with the cognitive dissonances of their environment, they lose track of their discipline and even their faith.
Godden’s writing is always elegant and evocative, rich with symbolism that makes itself felt but doesn’t hit you over the head. “The house would not conform,” she writes. “The flimsy walls did not shut out the world but made a sounding box for it; through every crack the smell of the world crept in, the smell of rain and sun and earth and the deodar trees and a wind strangely scented with tea. . . . And everywhere in front of them was that far horizon and the eagles in the gulf below the snows. ‘I think you can see too far,’ said Sister Philippa. ‘I look across there, and then I can’t see the potato I’m planting and it doesn’t seem to matter whether I plant it or not.’”
The story has its moments of melodrama and a bit of a flaccid ending, but it’s altogether a journey worth taking.
March 8, 2021
Black Narcissus is one of my new favorites. I have been working my way through Rumer Godden’s books, and this one, written in 1939 pulls me to the top of Mopu and the palace as I imagine it, and I can just about feel the wind through the house as I read.
Sister Clodagh, who shares her memories of life before a “sister” title, and all her group make their way up the mountains, through valleys, across rivers, trusting the native peoples who carefully make sure the sisters arrive safely.
The Women’s Palace was most recently lived in by a group of brothers who quickly high-tailed it for safer ground, and now the Catholic order in which Sister Clodagh belongs has decided to rename it St. Faith’s. She is to lead the group as they turn the compound into an educational center and hospital facility where natives can be served and educated. That’s the plan, at least. Each character springs off the page so nicely, and situations are drawn so artfully I feel as if I am there.
With few to help them, the possibly mad Ayah who was the Palace caretaker, and the young Joseph Anthony (?how old are you, asks Sister C, and he replies “six to eleven”), the sisters are assigned by the government to Mr. Dean, a government worker who has “gone native.” He is their only practical helper, despite being known as a difficult man. His opinion about the whole project is stated when he answers Sister C’s question as to why the Brothers left so soon: “It’s an impossible place for a nunnery.” Meanwhile, the people who have lived in the valley and by the river below, watch this next group of foreigners with good humor and patience, going about their usual duties and observances working around the newcomers, waiting to see what occurs.
Watercolor-like, the magnificence of the place as described, comes from the author’s own life, years spent in this part of the world from her childhood, and into her adulthood. I find it very compelling. The story might feel sleepy at first, but it grows and I was absolutely wistful and left with longing at its conclusion, but the end of story is felt to be the right one for the place and all the disparate characters. I loved them all.
I wondered about the name – why Black Narcissus? It comes from the fancy young “General” – General Dilip Rai - who relentlessly (and successfully) argues his case for being the only male student at St. Faith’s. This education will set him up for his life list plan, and he’s actually drawn up a teaching schedule. The very picture of earnestness, he makes sure he is attractive to the nuns, and he’s ensured he doesn’t offend by any off odors, as is proven when he settles in:
. . . .Sister Honey rushed to find a sheet to spread over his chair before she would let him sit down. Then a procession of coats began, each one as lovely as the last; a maize colour patterned with flowers in damask, a white brocade with a gold sprig; a dove grey satin, and one with stripes worked entirely in petit point like a grandmother’s footstool. He changed his earrings every day and he smelled strongly of scent.
“Do you like it?” he asked Sister Ruth, offering her his handkerchief. “it’s called Black Narcissus and I got it at the Army and Navy Stores.”
Turns out there really is a perfume created by Caron in 1911 called Narcisse Noir. You can buy it today on Amazon and other vendors. Go figure. (I'm awfully tempted.)
The writing is evocative – here’s a bit more about Dilip -
The young General seemed very beautiful to all the nuns. When he came galloping down the drive, flashing under the deodar trees, he might have been a forerunner of the spring and summer days that were so long in coming. They had seen so little colour in the winter, that he seemed almost startling, and he came so fast, his pony’s mane rising in the wind like a crest, its tail streaming over the sky and clouds between the trees.
Sister Clodagh had let more than she knew into the Convent with the young General Dilip Rai.
He was outside everything they had considered real; he was the impossible made possible. He was fantastic. His white pony was a stallion of the famous Tangastiya breed; it galloped up and down the hills; and when he galloped it on the narrow paths of the high ground, his head looked to be above the clouds, and the trees below the path brushed his knees. His coats and jewels were fabulous, and he was as naive and charming as the youngest son in a fairy story. . . .
“Have you noticed,” Sister Phillippa asked once, “how important these people are? How they’ve impressed themselves on us, compared with the natives in other places we’ve been in?”
They and the General were not too fantastic for the country; nothing was too strange for the mysterious and impenetrable State and the ice mountains and the dark forests and the valley with its easy luscious fields.”
If you’ve stayed this far in my rave on this lovely book, please note there was a movie done in 1947 which took a number of awards. Deborah Kerr starred and does a lovely job of it. I found a copy to watch on YouTube. This version was true to the book (although the marketing threw the word “erotic” around to a degree that my modern self found overselling). Lastly, in December of 2020 another run at Black Narcissus was made by the BBC, and that version added in its own bits to tweak up the heat, and actually changed the story line. I liked it, but it wasn’t the same. Of the two 1947 wins IMHO, and of all, the book is best.
Thanks for your patience as I raved on.
Sister Clodagh, who shares her memories of life before a “sister” title, and all her group make their way up the mountains, through valleys, across rivers, trusting the native peoples who carefully make sure the sisters arrive safely.
The Women’s Palace was most recently lived in by a group of brothers who quickly high-tailed it for safer ground, and now the Catholic order in which Sister Clodagh belongs has decided to rename it St. Faith’s. She is to lead the group as they turn the compound into an educational center and hospital facility where natives can be served and educated. That’s the plan, at least. Each character springs off the page so nicely, and situations are drawn so artfully I feel as if I am there.
With few to help them, the possibly mad Ayah who was the Palace caretaker, and the young Joseph Anthony (?how old are you, asks Sister C, and he replies “six to eleven”), the sisters are assigned by the government to Mr. Dean, a government worker who has “gone native.” He is their only practical helper, despite being known as a difficult man. His opinion about the whole project is stated when he answers Sister C’s question as to why the Brothers left so soon: “It’s an impossible place for a nunnery.” Meanwhile, the people who have lived in the valley and by the river below, watch this next group of foreigners with good humor and patience, going about their usual duties and observances working around the newcomers, waiting to see what occurs.
Watercolor-like, the magnificence of the place as described, comes from the author’s own life, years spent in this part of the world from her childhood, and into her adulthood. I find it very compelling. The story might feel sleepy at first, but it grows and I was absolutely wistful and left with longing at its conclusion, but the end of story is felt to be the right one for the place and all the disparate characters. I loved them all.
I wondered about the name – why Black Narcissus? It comes from the fancy young “General” – General Dilip Rai - who relentlessly (and successfully) argues his case for being the only male student at St. Faith’s. This education will set him up for his life list plan, and he’s actually drawn up a teaching schedule. The very picture of earnestness, he makes sure he is attractive to the nuns, and he’s ensured he doesn’t offend by any off odors, as is proven when he settles in:
. . . .Sister Honey rushed to find a sheet to spread over his chair before she would let him sit down. Then a procession of coats began, each one as lovely as the last; a maize colour patterned with flowers in damask, a white brocade with a gold sprig; a dove grey satin, and one with stripes worked entirely in petit point like a grandmother’s footstool. He changed his earrings every day and he smelled strongly of scent.
“Do you like it?” he asked Sister Ruth, offering her his handkerchief. “it’s called Black Narcissus and I got it at the Army and Navy Stores.”
Turns out there really is a perfume created by Caron in 1911 called Narcisse Noir. You can buy it today on Amazon and other vendors. Go figure. (I'm awfully tempted.)
The writing is evocative – here’s a bit more about Dilip -
The young General seemed very beautiful to all the nuns. When he came galloping down the drive, flashing under the deodar trees, he might have been a forerunner of the spring and summer days that were so long in coming. They had seen so little colour in the winter, that he seemed almost startling, and he came so fast, his pony’s mane rising in the wind like a crest, its tail streaming over the sky and clouds between the trees.
Sister Clodagh had let more than she knew into the Convent with the young General Dilip Rai.
He was outside everything they had considered real; he was the impossible made possible. He was fantastic. His white pony was a stallion of the famous Tangastiya breed; it galloped up and down the hills; and when he galloped it on the narrow paths of the high ground, his head looked to be above the clouds, and the trees below the path brushed his knees. His coats and jewels were fabulous, and he was as naive and charming as the youngest son in a fairy story. . . .
“Have you noticed,” Sister Phillippa asked once, “how important these people are? How they’ve impressed themselves on us, compared with the natives in other places we’ve been in?”
They and the General were not too fantastic for the country; nothing was too strange for the mysterious and impenetrable State and the ice mountains and the dark forests and the valley with its easy luscious fields.”
If you’ve stayed this far in my rave on this lovely book, please note there was a movie done in 1947 which took a number of awards. Deborah Kerr starred and does a lovely job of it. I found a copy to watch on YouTube. This version was true to the book (although the marketing threw the word “erotic” around to a degree that my modern self found overselling). Lastly, in December of 2020 another run at Black Narcissus was made by the BBC, and that version added in its own bits to tweak up the heat, and actually changed the story line. I liked it, but it wasn’t the same. Of the two 1947 wins IMHO, and of all, the book is best.
Thanks for your patience as I raved on.
July 22, 2014
There's a very real chance that if I hadn't already seen the wonderful Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger movie adaptation that I would have loved this book, but there's also an even greater chance that if I hadn't already loved the movie I wouldn't have even picked up a novel about the passions and repressions of some Catholic nuns setting up a hospital and school for the natives in the Himalayas and their struggle to acclimatise.
Godden captures the beauty, majesty and alien nature of the surroundings with evocative descriptive passages, utilising them to slowly build up an atmosphere of tension and dislocation from reality. She takes you up in to the mountains with her closed minded Sisters and doesn't allow any other point of view to come across, perfectly highlighting the absurd behaviour of the white people in their colonies.
The interactions between the nuns, the natives and the white ranger are all described with subtlety and restraint in true pre-war English style and making for a fascinating read and exploration of a time now long gone. Recently republished by the Virago Press Black Narcissus is well worth discovering in novel form, especially if you are yet to fall for the celluloid magic of Powell & Pressburger.
Godden captures the beauty, majesty and alien nature of the surroundings with evocative descriptive passages, utilising them to slowly build up an atmosphere of tension and dislocation from reality. She takes you up in to the mountains with her closed minded Sisters and doesn't allow any other point of view to come across, perfectly highlighting the absurd behaviour of the white people in their colonies.
The interactions between the nuns, the natives and the white ranger are all described with subtlety and restraint in true pre-war English style and making for a fascinating read and exploration of a time now long gone. Recently republished by the Virago Press Black Narcissus is well worth discovering in novel form, especially if you are yet to fall for the celluloid magic of Powell & Pressburger.
May 20, 2022
“There’s something in this place. I don’t trust myself here.”
Writing is very personal, and sometimes I just don’t connect with a writing style. I was halfway through this book before it started to flow, and even then I felt detached from it, so didn’t enjoy it as I should have because it is a good, well-written story.
English nuns set up a school in a remote village of the Indian Himalayas. They are allowed to take over a palace that formerly served as the local General’s “House of Women.” An order of Brothers had tried this before and failed, so they face a daunting challenge.
The sisters try, but struggle. They have personal issues, don’t speak the language, and resist trying to fit into the culture.
She could not remember when it was that she began to think of them as people; not as ‘natives,’ persons apart, but as people like themselves, and she was beginning to see with their eyes.”
Attraction, jealousy, regret, and devotion are explored, but to me the story focused on this familiar attempt to “help,” and why it often goes so wrong.
Writing is very personal, and sometimes I just don’t connect with a writing style. I was halfway through this book before it started to flow, and even then I felt detached from it, so didn’t enjoy it as I should have because it is a good, well-written story.
English nuns set up a school in a remote village of the Indian Himalayas. They are allowed to take over a palace that formerly served as the local General’s “House of Women.” An order of Brothers had tried this before and failed, so they face a daunting challenge.
The sisters try, but struggle. They have personal issues, don’t speak the language, and resist trying to fit into the culture.
She could not remember when it was that she began to think of them as people; not as ‘natives,’ persons apart, but as people like themselves, and she was beginning to see with their eyes.”
Attraction, jealousy, regret, and devotion are explored, but to me the story focused on this familiar attempt to “help,” and why it often goes so wrong.
February 10, 2016
Till the rains break...
The palace at Mopu was once known as the House of Women, home to the harem of the General, the local overlord of this remote spot high in the Himalayas. That General is now dead, and his son wants to do something to improve the lives of his people. So he has invited the Sisters of Mary to set up a convent there, to provide a school and clinic. Sister Superior Clodagh and her small group of fellow nuns make the long journey, full of enthusiasm to set up the new Convent of St Faith. But they are not prepared for the isolation they will feel in this place of majestic grandeur, set amidst the mountains, constantly windswept, and with a population who have their own spiritual beliefs and no desire to change. Soon the nuns will find themselves challenged, not only physically, but emotionally, even spiritually, struggling to maintain their faith amidst the emptiness that surrounds them.
Rumer Godden writes in a straightforward style, with little in the way of dramatic or poetical flourishes. But this simplicity is deceptive – she draws her characters with a surprisingly few strokes of her pen, and brings a haunting quality to her descriptions of place that allows her readers to understand the profound effect of it on the nuns. Sister Clodagh is young and inexperienced, but sure of her ability to lead – a confidence that isn’t completely shared by the Mother Superior back at the mother convent. Sister Blanche, known to all as Sister Honey, is sweet and kind, wanting to do her best for the children who attend the school and clinic. Sister Philippa and Sister Briony are the more experienced nuns, sensible and hard-working, Philippa in the gardens, and Briony heading up the clinic. And then there’s Sister Ruth, a troubled woman, full of jealousies and suppressed emotions; the kind of person no-one really wants around.
As they begin to settle into life at the convent, each of the nuns finds the isolation working on them in different ways. Sister Clodagh looks back to the events that brought her to a religious life, and for the first time finds herself questioning both her calling and her abilities. Sister Philippa becomes obsessed with the garden, creating grandiose plans that the convent could never afford. Sister Honey finds herself becoming emotionally attached to the children to a degree beyond what is either wise or safe. And Sister Ruth struggles with the altitude, constantly complaining of headaches and stomach aches, and feeling that the other nuns don’t value her, especially Sister Clodagh. As time goes by, the Sisters begin to drift, almost dreamlike, away from the routines and religious observances that were once second nature to them, finding that the dramatic beauty and emptiness of the mountains somehow diminishes the things they once held precious.
Into this mix come the catalysts: the General’s heir, a rather beautiful young man, clad in silks and jewels, seeking an education; and Mr Dean, a man with a less than savoury reputation regarding women, but with a blatant masculinity that half-frightens, half-attracts the nuns. Mr Dean is the new General’s man, on whom the nuns must rely to get practical things done around the convent. He is not conventionally religious, constantly challenging Sister Clodagh’s rather glib attempts to create a replica of the mother convent here in a place with a very different culture and spirituality, and pointing out any time he feels she falls short of what she professes to believe. But it is Sister Ruth who reacts most strongly to Mr Dean, years of suppression breaking out into ever wilder longing and jealousy.
The wonderful characterisation and atmospheric descriptions of this starkly unforgiving landscape provide a backdrop to the nuns’ struggle to stay on their religious path in this place they find so hauntingly mystical. For each, the experience will change her forever in ways she never imagined – some will find spiritual growth and a truer kind of faith, some will reach a reconciliation with events in their past, others will find their strength isn’t enough to come through the challenges of the place unscathed. Godden’s prose is flowing and effortless, allowing the reader to become fully immersed in the story without being distracted by any flamboyancy of style. The story that starts off slowly and rather gently gradually works itself up to the heights of gothic horror, but told with enough restraint to keep it feeling completely authentic and believable. An excellent book – highly recommended, and I look forward to reading more of Godden’s work in the future.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
The palace at Mopu was once known as the House of Women, home to the harem of the General, the local overlord of this remote spot high in the Himalayas. That General is now dead, and his son wants to do something to improve the lives of his people. So he has invited the Sisters of Mary to set up a convent there, to provide a school and clinic. Sister Superior Clodagh and her small group of fellow nuns make the long journey, full of enthusiasm to set up the new Convent of St Faith. But they are not prepared for the isolation they will feel in this place of majestic grandeur, set amidst the mountains, constantly windswept, and with a population who have their own spiritual beliefs and no desire to change. Soon the nuns will find themselves challenged, not only physically, but emotionally, even spiritually, struggling to maintain their faith amidst the emptiness that surrounds them.
Rumer Godden writes in a straightforward style, with little in the way of dramatic or poetical flourishes. But this simplicity is deceptive – she draws her characters with a surprisingly few strokes of her pen, and brings a haunting quality to her descriptions of place that allows her readers to understand the profound effect of it on the nuns. Sister Clodagh is young and inexperienced, but sure of her ability to lead – a confidence that isn’t completely shared by the Mother Superior back at the mother convent. Sister Blanche, known to all as Sister Honey, is sweet and kind, wanting to do her best for the children who attend the school and clinic. Sister Philippa and Sister Briony are the more experienced nuns, sensible and hard-working, Philippa in the gardens, and Briony heading up the clinic. And then there’s Sister Ruth, a troubled woman, full of jealousies and suppressed emotions; the kind of person no-one really wants around.
As they begin to settle into life at the convent, each of the nuns finds the isolation working on them in different ways. Sister Clodagh looks back to the events that brought her to a religious life, and for the first time finds herself questioning both her calling and her abilities. Sister Philippa becomes obsessed with the garden, creating grandiose plans that the convent could never afford. Sister Honey finds herself becoming emotionally attached to the children to a degree beyond what is either wise or safe. And Sister Ruth struggles with the altitude, constantly complaining of headaches and stomach aches, and feeling that the other nuns don’t value her, especially Sister Clodagh. As time goes by, the Sisters begin to drift, almost dreamlike, away from the routines and religious observances that were once second nature to them, finding that the dramatic beauty and emptiness of the mountains somehow diminishes the things they once held precious.
Into this mix come the catalysts: the General’s heir, a rather beautiful young man, clad in silks and jewels, seeking an education; and Mr Dean, a man with a less than savoury reputation regarding women, but with a blatant masculinity that half-frightens, half-attracts the nuns. Mr Dean is the new General’s man, on whom the nuns must rely to get practical things done around the convent. He is not conventionally religious, constantly challenging Sister Clodagh’s rather glib attempts to create a replica of the mother convent here in a place with a very different culture and spirituality, and pointing out any time he feels she falls short of what she professes to believe. But it is Sister Ruth who reacts most strongly to Mr Dean, years of suppression breaking out into ever wilder longing and jealousy.
The wonderful characterisation and atmospheric descriptions of this starkly unforgiving landscape provide a backdrop to the nuns’ struggle to stay on their religious path in this place they find so hauntingly mystical. For each, the experience will change her forever in ways she never imagined – some will find spiritual growth and a truer kind of faith, some will reach a reconciliation with events in their past, others will find their strength isn’t enough to come through the challenges of the place unscathed. Godden’s prose is flowing and effortless, allowing the reader to become fully immersed in the story without being distracted by any flamboyancy of style. The story that starts off slowly and rather gently gradually works itself up to the heights of gothic horror, but told with enough restraint to keep it feeling completely authentic and believable. An excellent book – highly recommended, and I look forward to reading more of Godden’s work in the future.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
July 2, 2011
A group of nuns, led by stubborn Irish born Sister Clodagh are assigned to a remote estate in the Himalayas to start a convent, run a school, and an infirmary for the local villagers. It's a monumental task that Sister Clodagh feels tentatively up to, and one already abandoned by priests who failed at a similar endeavor. All the basic elements for plot tension are here, personality clashes between the nuns, culture shock, loss of faith, and the ever needling presence of the only white man in the area, a handsome alcoholic handyman named Mr. Dean.
The book succeeds the most in the searingly realistic portrayals of the women and their differences. They are sworn to a life of chastity and poverty before God, but they are after all, just women. Godden writes with a keen eye, and you feel the frustrations and elations of each of these women as they fail and succeed at the various impossible tasks set before them. Mr. Dean is also a well written character, a classic charming drunk who despises the very presence of these women in his world, while at the same time startling with his concern and respect for them.
The vivid descriptions of the flowers, mountains, the sky, the weather, the smells and food, are very well done and the estate and the country do indeed become their own character, a cruel and beautiful creature that nurses the natives to her breast just as surely as she wears the nuns down one by one.
My biggest complaint about the book, although considering the context of the time it was written perhaps it was unavoidable, is that the natives in the novel are painted over with one brown brush that stamps each and every one of them with the phrase "ignorant savage". The nuns either condescend to them, adopting them like little pets, or they despise them as formless creatures. At one point, a character surprises herself when she realizes that she can start telling them apart. Even Mr. Dean, the character who can speak their language and is basically living with them day in and out, brushes them aside as overgrown children that should be treated as such.
The housekeeper, Ayah, is well written, a flinty, no-nonsense native woman who begrudginly welcomes the nuns to the estate and becomes the balance between the two cultures. The other non-white characters Kanchi and General Dilip are both written as ditzy, shallow, spoiled youths who do nothing more than infuriate and confound the nuns.
There's a lot to be said for the restraint in this novel. Any modern hand with these basic plot elements could have easily written something filled with sudden violence and graphic sex, or bent over low to create a steamy bodice ripper. There is sensuality in this novel, there is erotic longing, jealousy, violence, but everything happens in its own time and without gratuitousness.
I do recommend this read to anyone wanting to peek into a world one wouldn't otherwise have known existed.
The book succeeds the most in the searingly realistic portrayals of the women and their differences. They are sworn to a life of chastity and poverty before God, but they are after all, just women. Godden writes with a keen eye, and you feel the frustrations and elations of each of these women as they fail and succeed at the various impossible tasks set before them. Mr. Dean is also a well written character, a classic charming drunk who despises the very presence of these women in his world, while at the same time startling with his concern and respect for them.
The vivid descriptions of the flowers, mountains, the sky, the weather, the smells and food, are very well done and the estate and the country do indeed become their own character, a cruel and beautiful creature that nurses the natives to her breast just as surely as she wears the nuns down one by one.
My biggest complaint about the book, although considering the context of the time it was written perhaps it was unavoidable, is that the natives in the novel are painted over with one brown brush that stamps each and every one of them with the phrase "ignorant savage". The nuns either condescend to them, adopting them like little pets, or they despise them as formless creatures. At one point, a character surprises herself when she realizes that she can start telling them apart. Even Mr. Dean, the character who can speak their language and is basically living with them day in and out, brushes them aside as overgrown children that should be treated as such.
The housekeeper, Ayah, is well written, a flinty, no-nonsense native woman who begrudginly welcomes the nuns to the estate and becomes the balance between the two cultures. The other non-white characters Kanchi and General Dilip are both written as ditzy, shallow, spoiled youths who do nothing more than infuriate and confound the nuns.
There's a lot to be said for the restraint in this novel. Any modern hand with these basic plot elements could have easily written something filled with sudden violence and graphic sex, or bent over low to create a steamy bodice ripper. There is sensuality in this novel, there is erotic longing, jealousy, violence, but everything happens in its own time and without gratuitousness.
I do recommend this read to anyone wanting to peek into a world one wouldn't otherwise have known existed.
April 13, 2016
This House of Women upon the mountain with its views, its history, its cold and endless wind- it holds the continuous underpinning of an ethereal and yet intoxicating effect. To the five nuns who come for their helping mission, to the natives and Mr. Dean who has gone native. All the humans. Regardless of their faith, their world view, their belief in determination and free will! Instead it seems to be a catalyst for making whatever they are at their very core, more of that same quality. They become in this place, more intrinsically themselves. Wonderful story and told in the incredible clear and evocative sensibilities of the early 20th century.
The word magic is often used within these reviews or madness. I think it is more the susceptibility we humans own through our senses and our cognition for views and majestic nature. They intoxicate us and they interrupt our thoughts and purposes. They absolutely do. The beauty and mood of this place is just too overblown to be able to ignore. Good women and good will and good purposes of intellect, for sure.
Fantastic read and movie as exotic. I've decided to read 3 or 4 more by Rumer Godden this next month. HOW wonderful and refreshing to see and hear about women's spirits and purposes, instead of primarily about their actions and sexual practices. In some of the moderns, women are no more than toys.
The word magic is often used within these reviews or madness. I think it is more the susceptibility we humans own through our senses and our cognition for views and majestic nature. They intoxicate us and they interrupt our thoughts and purposes. They absolutely do. The beauty and mood of this place is just too overblown to be able to ignore. Good women and good will and good purposes of intellect, for sure.
Fantastic read and movie as exotic. I've decided to read 3 or 4 more by Rumer Godden this next month. HOW wonderful and refreshing to see and hear about women's spirits and purposes, instead of primarily about their actions and sexual practices. In some of the moderns, women are no more than toys.
Shelved as 'abandoned-or-try-again-later'
May 15, 2016I just don't get this. Everything about it is wandering. The narrative is confusing, lack of character development, and I don't see a point. It is somewhat humorous. Oddly I was reminded of DuMaurier reading this. And then I noticed someone else mentioned this. I did not love her writing either. Oh well just could not connect.
April 14, 2014
I fell in love with the cinema adaptation of ‘Black Narcissus’ – by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger – many years ago, but it was only a few years ago that I noticed Rumer Godden’s name among the credits, and realised that the book that had been adapted was written by an author whose works for children I had loved.
‘Black Narcissus’ was Rumer Godden’s third novel and her first best-seller.
It tells the story of a small group of nuns from the Order of the Servants of Mary, who had has been invited to form a new community in an old, disused palace, the former home of the harem of an Indian general, high in the Darjeeling hills. It was a place that had a certain reputation with the local population, but the sisters were to run a dispensary, and a school to offer education to native
Sister Clodagh was to lead the community; Sister Philippa was to manage the gardens; Sister Briony was to run the dispensary; Sister Honey was to teach the local young women to make lace; and Sister Ruth was to give lessons to the younger children.
It was a wonderful plan, but nobody was interested; nobody came.
Mr Dean, the general’s agent, an Englishman gone native, offered practical help that the sisters accepted, and sensible advice that they did not.
The altitude, the isolation, the unemployment, began to affect the sisters. One dreamed of motherhood; one longed for romantic love; one dwelt her life as a young woman, before she took her vows; and one realised that an interest was turning into an obsession.
But as the nuns fell in love with the strange beauty of their surroundings, with the village children whose families were paid by Mr Dean to send them to school, with Mr Dean himself, they began to fall out with each other. Long buried emotions had come to the surface.
Sister Clodagh lacked the experience, and maybe the understanding to manage the situation. And, of course, there were consequences ….
Rumer Godden sets out every detail. She is subtle, gentle, but she makes it clear that everything that happens is inevitable. It comes from the characters, their situations, their emotions.
There is a wonderful depth to the women, their relationships, their stories, and yet the narrative feels simple, natural and it is utterly compelling.
There is little plot: a young man is allowed too close to a young woman; a sick child is brought to the nuns; one sister leaves and another snaps …. But it is enough to move the story forward while keeping the focus on the members of the community, and their lives.
The prose is lovely, the atmosphere and the descriptions are gorgeous.
But there was enough space for me to realise that this wasn’t just the story of a group of nuns; it was the story of the British in India.
The book and the film are very different pleasures – the book is gentle and absorbing; the film is striking and melodramatic – I wish I could have read the book without knowing what would happen, but it didn’t really matter, because the book held me in the moment from start to finish, and I didn’t pull away remembering that I knew what would happen once.
I would have liked to now a little more about each woman, but this is a very short – maybe too short – novel. But sometimes it’s best to be left wondering.
And I’m so curious now to see how Rumer Godden grew as writer with the many books she wrote after this very early novel.
Which book should I read next …. ?
‘Black Narcissus’ was Rumer Godden’s third novel and her first best-seller.
It tells the story of a small group of nuns from the Order of the Servants of Mary, who had has been invited to form a new community in an old, disused palace, the former home of the harem of an Indian general, high in the Darjeeling hills. It was a place that had a certain reputation with the local population, but the sisters were to run a dispensary, and a school to offer education to native
Sister Clodagh was to lead the community; Sister Philippa was to manage the gardens; Sister Briony was to run the dispensary; Sister Honey was to teach the local young women to make lace; and Sister Ruth was to give lessons to the younger children.
It was a wonderful plan, but nobody was interested; nobody came.
Mr Dean, the general’s agent, an Englishman gone native, offered practical help that the sisters accepted, and sensible advice that they did not.
The altitude, the isolation, the unemployment, began to affect the sisters. One dreamed of motherhood; one longed for romantic love; one dwelt her life as a young woman, before she took her vows; and one realised that an interest was turning into an obsession.
But as the nuns fell in love with the strange beauty of their surroundings, with the village children whose families were paid by Mr Dean to send them to school, with Mr Dean himself, they began to fall out with each other. Long buried emotions had come to the surface.
Sister Clodagh lacked the experience, and maybe the understanding to manage the situation. And, of course, there were consequences ….
Rumer Godden sets out every detail. She is subtle, gentle, but she makes it clear that everything that happens is inevitable. It comes from the characters, their situations, their emotions.
There is a wonderful depth to the women, their relationships, their stories, and yet the narrative feels simple, natural and it is utterly compelling.
There is little plot: a young man is allowed too close to a young woman; a sick child is brought to the nuns; one sister leaves and another snaps …. But it is enough to move the story forward while keeping the focus on the members of the community, and their lives.
The prose is lovely, the atmosphere and the descriptions are gorgeous.
But there was enough space for me to realise that this wasn’t just the story of a group of nuns; it was the story of the British in India.
The book and the film are very different pleasures – the book is gentle and absorbing; the film is striking and melodramatic – I wish I could have read the book without knowing what would happen, but it didn’t really matter, because the book held me in the moment from start to finish, and I didn’t pull away remembering that I knew what would happen once.
I would have liked to now a little more about each woman, but this is a very short – maybe too short – novel. But sometimes it’s best to be left wondering.
And I’m so curious now to see how Rumer Godden grew as writer with the many books she wrote after this very early novel.
Which book should I read next …. ?
August 7, 2022
Some places and cultures are just not meant to be invaded by Western religion and values. They have their own ancient traditions, religion, and superstitions that are every bit as valid as more recent religions and beliefs.
This novel presents a sort of microcosm of the tragedy and failure of colonialism. A group of Anglican nuns are sent to a distant mountain outpost in the foothills of the Himalayas. They have high hopes of providing medical care and education to the local people, but zero awareness of what the natives want or need or believe. The local Agent, an Englishman named Mr. Dean, tries to help them avoid their biggest mistakes, but they are caught up in the fervor of "serving God" and don't heed his warnings. A gradual warping of the Sisters' mental and emotional faculties takes place, seemingly exacerbated by hard work at high altitude. In reality, as I see it, the changes they undergo come from not being able to control their environment in the way they had anticipated. Multiple tragedies ensue.
Prior to watching the 1947 film, I tried twice to read this novel and couldn't get further than page 8. It's often slow and dull, despite Rumer Godden's famed writing skills.
After watching the film, I decided to give it another go, and finished it in less than 24 hours. But only because it was due back at the library and couldn't be renewed. Otherwise I probably would have slogged through it at a glacial pace. It plods along, and when the scene that should be the most dramatic finally arrives, it's over in a few sentences. Had I not seen the movie, I would have been sitting there wondering what exactly just happened.
One thing I did find remarkable was how much of the dialogue for the movie was pulled verbatim from the book. That's something that almost never happens, and speaks well for Rumer Godden's ability to write believable dialogue.
This novel presents a sort of microcosm of the tragedy and failure of colonialism. A group of Anglican nuns are sent to a distant mountain outpost in the foothills of the Himalayas. They have high hopes of providing medical care and education to the local people, but zero awareness of what the natives want or need or believe. The local Agent, an Englishman named Mr. Dean, tries to help them avoid their biggest mistakes, but they are caught up in the fervor of "serving God" and don't heed his warnings. A gradual warping of the Sisters' mental and emotional faculties takes place, seemingly exacerbated by hard work at high altitude. In reality, as I see it, the changes they undergo come from not being able to control their environment in the way they had anticipated. Multiple tragedies ensue.
Prior to watching the 1947 film, I tried twice to read this novel and couldn't get further than page 8. It's often slow and dull, despite Rumer Godden's famed writing skills.
After watching the film, I decided to give it another go, and finished it in less than 24 hours. But only because it was due back at the library and couldn't be renewed. Otherwise I probably would have slogged through it at a glacial pace. It plods along, and when the scene that should be the most dramatic finally arrives, it's over in a few sentences. Had I not seen the movie, I would have been sitting there wondering what exactly just happened.
One thing I did find remarkable was how much of the dialogue for the movie was pulled verbatim from the book. That's something that almost never happens, and speaks well for Rumer Godden's ability to write believable dialogue.
June 20, 2015
A beautiful evocative book.
Exquisite writing with wonderful descriptions of the scenery which makes you feel as if you are there.
The nun's have to come to terms with their own desires which leads to the dramatic conclusion.
A real page turner with wonderful characters.
The first I've read of hers but will be looking out for more.
Exquisite writing with wonderful descriptions of the scenery which makes you feel as if you are there.
The nun's have to come to terms with their own desires which leads to the dramatic conclusion.
A real page turner with wonderful characters.
The first I've read of hers but will be looking out for more.
December 14, 2023
Nuns feel passionate in the Himalayas.
A small group of nuns is offered an abandoned palace in a mountain pass to build a school and hospital. The palace was previously known as “the house of women,” and it asserts a curious influence that distracts the nuns from their selfless service and awakens new feelings. Note that not all these feelings are sexual – one nun requests to leave because she has become passionately obsessed with gardening.
There are native people who do not really want to be taught or “civilized.” There is a holy man who stands watching the mountain day-in, day-out. There is an unregenerate English man, who has chemistry with the head nun Sister Clodagh, although in all other ways he’s a man of the world. There is a young prince, the “Black narcissus” of the title, who pulls Sister Clodagh into dangerous old memories.
Rumer Godden’s first novel is beautifully written, particularly regarding landscape, which is all vertiginous heights and remote snows and nuns dwarfed by light and emptiness and bells that need to be rung leaning over into a mountain pass. And though written in the 30s, this is certainly no tale of civilized westerners and undeveloped natives; Godden grew up in India, and the people feel tethered in a real culture.
Nothing particularly Earth-shattering happens here, unless you’re a nun, and I ambled rather than raced through it, but the total clarity of the vision is striking. It’s a book that seems entirely self-sufficient to its own world.
A small group of nuns is offered an abandoned palace in a mountain pass to build a school and hospital. The palace was previously known as “the house of women,” and it asserts a curious influence that distracts the nuns from their selfless service and awakens new feelings. Note that not all these feelings are sexual – one nun requests to leave because she has become passionately obsessed with gardening.
There are native people who do not really want to be taught or “civilized.” There is a holy man who stands watching the mountain day-in, day-out. There is an unregenerate English man, who has chemistry with the head nun Sister Clodagh, although in all other ways he’s a man of the world. There is a young prince, the “Black narcissus” of the title, who pulls Sister Clodagh into dangerous old memories.
Rumer Godden’s first novel is beautifully written, particularly regarding landscape, which is all vertiginous heights and remote snows and nuns dwarfed by light and emptiness and bells that need to be rung leaning over into a mountain pass. And though written in the 30s, this is certainly no tale of civilized westerners and undeveloped natives; Godden grew up in India, and the people feel tethered in a real culture.
Nothing particularly Earth-shattering happens here, unless you’re a nun, and I ambled rather than raced through it, but the total clarity of the vision is striking. It’s a book that seems entirely self-sufficient to its own world.
March 31, 2021
3.75 stars
This is a story of outsiders who try to conquer - or at the very least, coexist - in a wilderness, in a vastness foreign to them. Instead, the wild place overwhelms them; it makes them forget themselves, or at least forget their mission.
The book begins with a splinter-group of Catholic nuns travelling from their Order in Darjeeling to the General's Palace at Mopu - high up in the Himalaya mountains, on the border of Nepal. On the first page it is mentioned that in the previous year a Brotherhood had attempted to establish St Saviour's School for the local 'native' children, but had withdrawn from their mission after only 5 months. Thus, from the very beginning, there is a sense of mystery and challenge about this Mopu. The landscape is magnificent and daunting. The local people, the Nepalese, are poor but they are not officially citizens of the British Raj. They have a marginal but independent status.
We learn, early on, that the Palace of Mopu has a tragic history, and has always been quite separate from its remote surroundings. It has formerly been a house of women - all of them belonging, in a sense, to the General who was the father of the current General Toda. General Toda - an honorific title - thinks of the Palace at Mopu as a 'bad house' and he hopes that the nuns might improve and purify it.
The presiding nun is Sister Clodagh - the youngest Sister Superior in the order. She is intelligent and competent, but accused of having too much pride. The other nuns with her are Sister Briony (in charge of housekeeping and health), Sister Philippa (in charge of the garden), Sister Honey and Sister Ruth. Sister Honey has a sweet and smiling disposition and quickly becomes enamoured with the young children under her care. Sister Ruth, though, has a prickly and difficult disposition. The local people refer to her as the 'Snake-Faced Lemini'.
The rest of the community includes Ayah, the local overseer/housekeeper of the Palace, and Mr Dean, an Englishman who is in charge of running the General's business and estates. He performs a role similar to a factor or property manager, and his practical and linguistic skills are necessary to the nuns. They are unsettled by Mr Dean in various ways, but they soon realise that his help is indispensable. Allowing his presence in their 'nunnery' is just the first of many compromises they have to make at Mopu. When they are pressured into teaching the General's heir, the young General Dilip Rai, it is another unavoidable step on their inexorable slippery slope.
I read this book after seeing the recent BBC adaptation, written and produced by Amanda Coe. (She also wrote the Introduction to my Virago Modern Classics clothbound edition.) Coe compares this book to Rebecca, as a "gothic sister text", but in her adaptation she strengthens and exaggerates many of the elements of Godden's plot - including the sexual undertow. There are a few melodramatic moments - one in particular - but for the most part, Godden's book is far more subtle than du Maurier's famous novel.
It's strong on atmosphere, but I didn't feel as attached to the characters or as 'moved' by the events of the book as I have done in other Godden novels. I know that many readers consider it one of Godden's best books, but I will not remember it as special favourite.
'Mopu had run away with me, I was obsessed with it and the mountain and my work in the garden. Yes, I think I was really obsessed. There's something in this place, I don't trust myself here. I mean it when I say I daren't stay.'
'I think there are only two ways to live in this place,' said Sister Philippa, 'you must either live like Mr Dean or like the Sunnyasi; either ignore it completely or give yourself up to it.'
This is a story of outsiders who try to conquer - or at the very least, coexist - in a wilderness, in a vastness foreign to them. Instead, the wild place overwhelms them; it makes them forget themselves, or at least forget their mission.
The book begins with a splinter-group of Catholic nuns travelling from their Order in Darjeeling to the General's Palace at Mopu - high up in the Himalaya mountains, on the border of Nepal. On the first page it is mentioned that in the previous year a Brotherhood had attempted to establish St Saviour's School for the local 'native' children, but had withdrawn from their mission after only 5 months. Thus, from the very beginning, there is a sense of mystery and challenge about this Mopu. The landscape is magnificent and daunting. The local people, the Nepalese, are poor but they are not officially citizens of the British Raj. They have a marginal but independent status.
We learn, early on, that the Palace of Mopu has a tragic history, and has always been quite separate from its remote surroundings. It has formerly been a house of women - all of them belonging, in a sense, to the General who was the father of the current General Toda. General Toda - an honorific title - thinks of the Palace at Mopu as a 'bad house' and he hopes that the nuns might improve and purify it.
The presiding nun is Sister Clodagh - the youngest Sister Superior in the order. She is intelligent and competent, but accused of having too much pride. The other nuns with her are Sister Briony (in charge of housekeeping and health), Sister Philippa (in charge of the garden), Sister Honey and Sister Ruth. Sister Honey has a sweet and smiling disposition and quickly becomes enamoured with the young children under her care. Sister Ruth, though, has a prickly and difficult disposition. The local people refer to her as the 'Snake-Faced Lemini'.
The rest of the community includes Ayah, the local overseer/housekeeper of the Palace, and Mr Dean, an Englishman who is in charge of running the General's business and estates. He performs a role similar to a factor or property manager, and his practical and linguistic skills are necessary to the nuns. They are unsettled by Mr Dean in various ways, but they soon realise that his help is indispensable. Allowing his presence in their 'nunnery' is just the first of many compromises they have to make at Mopu. When they are pressured into teaching the General's heir, the young General Dilip Rai, it is another unavoidable step on their inexorable slippery slope.
I read this book after seeing the recent BBC adaptation, written and produced by Amanda Coe. (She also wrote the Introduction to my Virago Modern Classics clothbound edition.) Coe compares this book to Rebecca, as a "gothic sister text", but in her adaptation she strengthens and exaggerates many of the elements of Godden's plot - including the sexual undertow. There are a few melodramatic moments - one in particular - but for the most part, Godden's book is far more subtle than du Maurier's famous novel.
It's strong on atmosphere, but I didn't feel as attached to the characters or as 'moved' by the events of the book as I have done in other Godden novels. I know that many readers consider it one of Godden's best books, but I will not remember it as special favourite.
February 28, 2024
https://kansasbooks.blogspot.com/2020...
Rumer Godden fue una escritora inglesa que pasó parte de su infancia y juventud en la India y algunas de sus novelas como El Rio, y ésta que nos ocupa, fueron adaptadas al cine en los 40 y convertidas en obras de culto. Yo conocía a esta autora porque estas películas que he citado me parecen dos joyas y están íntimamente ligadas a mi infancia, a las primeras películas que ví y que me marcaron, y quizás por eso me había dado pereza hasta ahora ponerme con sus novelas porque las tenía muy grabadas en mi mente y pensé que quizás no me iban a aportar mucho a la hora de leerme la obra original y si bien es cierto, que durante la lectura de Narciso Negro no he podido distanciarme de la pelicula de 1947 porque recreaba sus imágenes continuamente, también es verdad que me ha parecido una buena novela.
El argumento es bastante simple, un grupo de monjas se trasladan al norte de la India, cerca de las montañas del Himalaya a montar un dispensario y una escuela. Su idealismo y quizás esa mentalidad colonialista algo básica las llevan a creer que su labor es absolutamente necesaria e indispensable y que los habitantes las recibirán con los brazos abiertos. Una vez instaladas, empiezan a ser conscientes de que no todo es tan fácil como ellas habían creído, porque antes que entender las díficiles condiciones en las que viven los habitantes locales y comprender sus tradiciones y creencias, ellas imponen de alguna forma sus creencias y su forma de entender el mundo.
“-¿Y yo? ¿Soy distinta?
- Si- contestó él de inmediato. - Se ha vuelto más buena.
-¿Cómo?
-Es humana. Antes era inhumana, demasiado invulnerable. Ahora ya no lo es. Es capaz de sentir”.
Aunque quizás la hubiera disfrutado más de no haberme sabido esta historia con pelos y señales, es interesante la aproximación que hace Rumer Godden de esta imposición colonial, ingenuamente presuntuosa, al establecerse en aquel lugar remoto como salvadoras del mundo, por muy buenas intenciones que tuvieran. Y por otra parte, también me parece un acierto la descripción que hace la autora del paisaje donde se establecen, exuberante y colorido, y del antiguo palacio de concubinas que les es cedido para convertirlo en convento. Rumer Godden continuamente compara esta exuberancia visual de colores y objetos, a la sobriedad de las monjas que poco a poco se ven influidas por su entorno y comienzan a cambiar. Este cambio que se va produciendo gradualmente en cada una de ellas es justo lo contrario a lo que ellas pretendían: en vez de “colonizar” a aquella pequeña comunidad, se ven completamente sobrepasadas por lo salvaje del paisaje, la voluptuosidad de los cuerpos libres de decoro y por supuesto de las creencias y tradiciones que nada tienen que ver con la religión que ellas procesan.
Es una novela donde la sensualidad juega un papel importantísimo creando poco a poco una atmósfera de claustrofobía y obsesión sexual que va in crescendo, todo esto contrapuesto a la “aparente”austeridad de las hermanas “colonizadoras”, son elementos perfectamente resueltos por Rumer Godden. Una pena que no haya más obras traducidas de esta autora porque el retrato que hace del colonianismo desde dentro me ha parecido muy enriquecedor. Mientras tanto recomiendo otra de sus adaptaciones al cine, El Rio.
“Antes de instalarse aquí, le dije que no viniera. Éste no es un lugar para un convento. Hay algo en él que lo exagera todo. No sé qué es, como no sea la propia lucha y la inverosimilitud del lugar. Debe irse y llevárselas a todas con usted, antes de que ocurra algo (…) Están todas en un estado de máximo peligro, en un estado mental, emocional o anímico, o como quiera llamarlo, exacerbado”.
(Black Narcissus), 1947, Michael Powell/Emeric Pressburger
Rumer Godden fue una escritora inglesa que pasó parte de su infancia y juventud en la India y algunas de sus novelas como El Rio, y ésta que nos ocupa, fueron adaptadas al cine en los 40 y convertidas en obras de culto. Yo conocía a esta autora porque estas películas que he citado me parecen dos joyas y están íntimamente ligadas a mi infancia, a las primeras películas que ví y que me marcaron, y quizás por eso me había dado pereza hasta ahora ponerme con sus novelas porque las tenía muy grabadas en mi mente y pensé que quizás no me iban a aportar mucho a la hora de leerme la obra original y si bien es cierto, que durante la lectura de Narciso Negro no he podido distanciarme de la pelicula de 1947 porque recreaba sus imágenes continuamente, también es verdad que me ha parecido una buena novela.
El argumento es bastante simple, un grupo de monjas se trasladan al norte de la India, cerca de las montañas del Himalaya a montar un dispensario y una escuela. Su idealismo y quizás esa mentalidad colonialista algo básica las llevan a creer que su labor es absolutamente necesaria e indispensable y que los habitantes las recibirán con los brazos abiertos. Una vez instaladas, empiezan a ser conscientes de que no todo es tan fácil como ellas habían creído, porque antes que entender las díficiles condiciones en las que viven los habitantes locales y comprender sus tradiciones y creencias, ellas imponen de alguna forma sus creencias y su forma de entender el mundo.
“-¿Y yo? ¿Soy distinta?
- Si- contestó él de inmediato. - Se ha vuelto más buena.
-¿Cómo?
-Es humana. Antes era inhumana, demasiado invulnerable. Ahora ya no lo es. Es capaz de sentir”.
Aunque quizás la hubiera disfrutado más de no haberme sabido esta historia con pelos y señales, es interesante la aproximación que hace Rumer Godden de esta imposición colonial, ingenuamente presuntuosa, al establecerse en aquel lugar remoto como salvadoras del mundo, por muy buenas intenciones que tuvieran. Y por otra parte, también me parece un acierto la descripción que hace la autora del paisaje donde se establecen, exuberante y colorido, y del antiguo palacio de concubinas que les es cedido para convertirlo en convento. Rumer Godden continuamente compara esta exuberancia visual de colores y objetos, a la sobriedad de las monjas que poco a poco se ven influidas por su entorno y comienzan a cambiar. Este cambio que se va produciendo gradualmente en cada una de ellas es justo lo contrario a lo que ellas pretendían: en vez de “colonizar” a aquella pequeña comunidad, se ven completamente sobrepasadas por lo salvaje del paisaje, la voluptuosidad de los cuerpos libres de decoro y por supuesto de las creencias y tradiciones que nada tienen que ver con la religión que ellas procesan.
Es una novela donde la sensualidad juega un papel importantísimo creando poco a poco una atmósfera de claustrofobía y obsesión sexual que va in crescendo, todo esto contrapuesto a la “aparente”austeridad de las hermanas “colonizadoras”, son elementos perfectamente resueltos por Rumer Godden. Una pena que no haya más obras traducidas de esta autora porque el retrato que hace del colonianismo desde dentro me ha parecido muy enriquecedor. Mientras tanto recomiendo otra de sus adaptaciones al cine, El Rio.
“Antes de instalarse aquí, le dije que no viniera. Éste no es un lugar para un convento. Hay algo en él que lo exagera todo. No sé qué es, como no sea la propia lucha y la inverosimilitud del lugar. Debe irse y llevárselas a todas con usted, antes de que ocurra algo (…) Están todas en un estado de máximo peligro, en un estado mental, emocional o anímico, o como quiera llamarlo, exacerbado”.
(Black Narcissus), 1947, Michael Powell/Emeric Pressburger
September 30, 2023
Black Narcissus or the one where a bunch of nuns have decidedly 'un-nunly' thoughts.
Black Narcissus was first published in 1939, just a few years before India got its Independence from the British. A group of nuns are invited by an Indian general to set up a convent around his palace somewhere in the midst of the Himalayas (my strong guess is that this is set in the lovely state of Sikkim, India). These nuns come with the idea of bringing 'civilization' to the 'uncivilized', racism and condescension disguised as charity. Instead, these nuns are changed themselves leading to a truly chilling conclusion.
I loved this book, and this is now one of my 2023 favourites but I still have a lot of conflicting feelings. Let me start with the good. This is the story of colonialism in a mini-form and it does so cleverly. Black Narcissus refers to a perfume worn by a young Indian aristocrat in the book, but it's really a metaphor for the vanity of the nuns i.e. the colonizer in this instance. The vanity to think oneself superior. The vanity to think you can bring civilization to one of the oldest cultures in the world. The vanity to think you can change people for "their good". The vanity to think you are doing any good while thinking of the natives as "monkeys", "primitives", "like children". It is a brilliant technique to convey the evil that is the white colonizer's 'benevolence'.
The writing reminds me a lot of Daphne Du Maurier. The beautifully sensual language imbued in the descriptions of the landscape; of the turbulent feelings of jealousy and desire; descriptions of people and even objects. Then there is the cold cruelty and feeling of fear underlying all the beauty. The ugliness, the evil, an unknown terror.
The racist descriptions of the Indian characters made me quite uncomfortable even though I understand that we were seeing it through the perspectives of the nuns. It's very easy to dismiss this as 'old-fashioned attitudes' (and I have seen lots of reviews do this), but the truth is that what seems like ancient history is not so for those countries still recovering from colonization. Having said that, I will definitely be reading more Godden but with quite a bit of caution.
Black Narcissus was first published in 1939, just a few years before India got its Independence from the British. A group of nuns are invited by an Indian general to set up a convent around his palace somewhere in the midst of the Himalayas (my strong guess is that this is set in the lovely state of Sikkim, India). These nuns come with the idea of bringing 'civilization' to the 'uncivilized', racism and condescension disguised as charity. Instead, these nuns are changed themselves leading to a truly chilling conclusion.
I loved this book, and this is now one of my 2023 favourites but I still have a lot of conflicting feelings. Let me start with the good. This is the story of colonialism in a mini-form and it does so cleverly. Black Narcissus refers to a perfume worn by a young Indian aristocrat in the book, but it's really a metaphor for the vanity of the nuns i.e. the colonizer in this instance. The vanity to think oneself superior. The vanity to think you can bring civilization to one of the oldest cultures in the world. The vanity to think you can change people for "their good". The vanity to think you are doing any good while thinking of the natives as "monkeys", "primitives", "like children". It is a brilliant technique to convey the evil that is the white colonizer's 'benevolence'.
The writing reminds me a lot of Daphne Du Maurier. The beautifully sensual language imbued in the descriptions of the landscape; of the turbulent feelings of jealousy and desire; descriptions of people and even objects. Then there is the cold cruelty and feeling of fear underlying all the beauty. The ugliness, the evil, an unknown terror.
The racist descriptions of the Indian characters made me quite uncomfortable even though I understand that we were seeing it through the perspectives of the nuns. It's very easy to dismiss this as 'old-fashioned attitudes' (and I have seen lots of reviews do this), but the truth is that what seems like ancient history is not so for those countries still recovering from colonization. Having said that, I will definitely be reading more Godden but with quite a bit of caution.
August 20, 2022
I saw the Deborah Kerr film version of this way back in my teen years but had never read anything by Rumer Godden. A group of idealistic English nuns sets up a convent school and hospital in the mountains above Darjeeling. “They were going into the wilderness, to pioneer, to endure, to work; but surely not to enjoy themselves.” Much of the appeal of reading about small communities is seeing how different personalities play off each other: aloof leader Sister Clodagh, pensive Sister Philippa, impetuous Sister Ruth. The land belongs to the General, whose teenage son Dilip Rai comes for lessons (he’s a bit of a dandy and wears Black Narcissus perfume); the General’s caretaker, Mr. Dean, is a go-between between the nuns and the natives. Though cynical and often drunk, he pulls through for the sisters more than once.
There are vaguely racist attitudes here, perhaps inevitable for the time this was written, but the English characters do start to change: “[Sister Clodagh] was fond of these people. She could not remember when it was that she began to think of them as people; not as natives, persons apart, but as people like themselves, and she was beginning to see with their eyes.” An erotic undercurrent explodes into a couple of obsessive crushes that threaten the entire mission. I read the first third of this on a bus in the Highlands and when I tried to get back into it a month later, it couldn’t recapture my attention despite an enticing Indian atmosphere.
Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.
There are vaguely racist attitudes here, perhaps inevitable for the time this was written, but the English characters do start to change: “[Sister Clodagh] was fond of these people. She could not remember when it was that she began to think of them as people; not as natives, persons apart, but as people like themselves, and she was beginning to see with their eyes.” An erotic undercurrent explodes into a couple of obsessive crushes that threaten the entire mission. I read the first third of this on a bus in the Highlands and when I tried to get back into it a month later, it couldn’t recapture my attention despite an enticing Indian atmosphere.
Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.
September 12, 2020
In my reviews, particularly of romance books, you’ll often find me complaining of authors who complicate and repeat and spoon-feed to readers like we are unable to understand foreshadowing and allusion. It is, I think, my greatest literary pet-peeve. And books like this one are the reason why.
This story is straight-forward and simple. Mapped out for you from the beginning. And it unfolds richly and beautifully and gently. Godden is delicate - whispering to you of the lush country and its people and what it does to the nuns. At times I thought “Is it really this easy? And it is really this complex?”
The only person to whom I’d recommend this book is the one that recommended it to me. I think it is for an old-fashioned reader. Those of us a bit impatient with the way the modern novel tends to work so hard and to vomit everything into your lap. There’s a starkness and a beauty here that makes me thankful that I’m a reader. It’s like coming down from the cool tranquility of a desolate mountain vacation to the shock of screeching tires and astonishing heat and loud music and people everywhere.
This story is straight-forward and simple. Mapped out for you from the beginning. And it unfolds richly and beautifully and gently. Godden is delicate - whispering to you of the lush country and its people and what it does to the nuns. At times I thought “Is it really this easy? And it is really this complex?”
The only person to whom I’d recommend this book is the one that recommended it to me. I think it is for an old-fashioned reader. Those of us a bit impatient with the way the modern novel tends to work so hard and to vomit everything into your lap. There’s a starkness and a beauty here that makes me thankful that I’m a reader. It’s like coming down from the cool tranquility of a desolate mountain vacation to the shock of screeching tires and astonishing heat and loud music and people everywhere.
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