As those of us in the West grope towards some understanding of the turbulence in the Islamic
world, it is only natural that, along with the histories and the political analyses, we turn
to literature. Mohsin Hamid's Moth Smoke, set in Lahore, Pakistan in the summer of 1998, as
India and Pakistan rattled their nuclear sabers, offers a very readable entree to some of
the issues surrounding the awkward process of modernizing one Moslem nation. In particular,
it captures the frustration and anger of the less fortunate in a country whose ruling class
is thoroughly corrupt and where the economic divide is so vast that the wealthy can insulate
themselves from the rules that bind the rest of society, and can nearly avoid physical contact
with the lower classes. But it also conveys some sense of the visceral pride felt at every
level of society when the government demonstrated that--just as the Christians, Jews, Orthodox,
Buddhists, and Hindus--Moslems have the bomb too. This tension, of income inequalities dividing
the nation, while ethno-religious pride unites it, is currently a defining characteristic of
the region.
Set against this exotic backdrop of nuclear confrontation and a miasma of corruption, cronyism,
and kickbacks, Hamid unfolds an oddly familiar tale that's equal parts hard-boiled fiction and
yuppie-descent-into-drugs-and-alcohol : the debts to Jay McInerney and James M. Cain are equally
heavy. Darashikoh "Daru" Shezad is a young banker who grew up on the fringes of high society,
but whose lack of connections has ultimately brought him up against a glass ceiling. Of course,
his increasing predilection for booze and dope hasn't helped matters any; and when he tells off
an important client, the bank fires him. Meanwhile, his more fortunate, because better connected,
childhood friend, Aurangzeb "Ozi" Shah, has just returned to Pakistan from the States, with his
lovely wife, Mumtaz, and toddler son, Muazzam. At first joyfully reunited, the old friends are
soon pushed apart again, first by Daru's declining social circumstances, then by a horrific
instance of Ozi's immunity from justice, and finally by the attraction that develops between
Daru and Mumtaz.
The title of the book refers to what remains when the moth is seduced by the candle flame, but
it's also a metaphor for Daru spiraling towards his own destruction, drawn by the allure of sex
and drugs and easy money. What makes the novel particularly appealing is that we feel right at
home within this comforting structure of genre, but are simultaneously dazzled by glimpses into
an utterly alien culture. Thus, a story we've heard a hundred times before comes across as
somehow fresh and surprising.
First time novelist Mohsin Hamid actually grew up in Lahore, then attended Princeton and Harvard
Law, and now works in Manhattan. His familiarity with the very different cultures of America and
Pakistan makes him an excellent guide for Western readers. It's hard to imagine a more accessible
and enjoyable, though fatalistic, novel if you are looking to literature as a way to start
exploring the issues confronting the nation states of the Islamic world.
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