More Lankan anecdotes
Muller's latest book is devoid of pompous claims, as usual. It aims at telling nothing beyond depicting scenes from a "Sri Lankan life". It gives an indication of being 'funny' with a proclamation at the outset: "Let they who wish to write my epitaph put it in three words: he died laughing."
Not much later, the reader drifts into recognisable Muller turf: the lives of sailors, Muller's childhood which features his engine-driving father, the Sri Lankan markets, those snakes that seem to emerge out of everywhere. The author writes elegantly, weaving together jottings from a vague personal life with crystalline clarity. Most of the time, he sculpts his narratives with a twinkle in his eyes, successfully recreating the delight in petty misadventures—when he is not unfolding the odd discovery.
He tells the tale of sailors who decide to wink at the Queen when she is visiting England in 1954. Addressing Her Majesty, he writes: "Given the ghost of a chance, you might have got a fat, juicy wink in 1954! Call it a Third World tribute!" Bumping into the truth behind jams in Sri Lanka, he makes a hilarious observation: "But pumpkin and fruit fly paste on bread? Breakfast anybody?" Discussing English language teaching, he tells those who dismiss 'dressing down' as incorrect English to focus on the correct phrase: "Must be dressing gown."
It is on Muller's way to the cemetery that these things occur—the journey beginning the day he was born. The reader can spot a bit of Graham Greene at the outset. But that's where the similarity ends since Muller's concerns are so obviously different from Greene's. The vivid descriptions are too memorable to be forgotten as the reader finishes the book, almost dead and laughing.