The Economist 04Apr2020

72 Books & arts The EconomistApril 4th 2020

2 which a mythologised Christopher Colum-

bus had introduced from Europe, laying

the foundation of what was to become the

transatlantic alliance.

In “The Abandonment of the West”, Mr

Kimmage argues that, on the left, “the

West” long ago came to be seen as a source

of hypocrisy and racism. Columbus was re-

cast as a conqueror and plunderer. Martin

Luther King pointed out the irony of the

White House advocating free elections in

communist eastern Europe when large

parts of America did not enjoy them. Ed-

ward Said, a professor at Columbia Univer-

sity of Palestinian origin, condemned “ter-

rible reductive conflicts that herd people

under falsely unifying rubrics like ‘Ameri-

can’, ‘the West’ or ‘Islam’.”

And Mr Kimmage describes how, once it

was no longer protected by rivalry with the

Soviet Union, the notion of “the West” fell

out of favour as an ideological rallying

point. The left has increasingly regarded it

as “too white, too male in its history, too

elitist, too complicit in the Euro-American

aggressions of less enlightened eras”. The

American right likes the idea of the West’s

cultural heritage, but is uncomfortable

with the reality of Europe as an essential

component of it, “too seemingly divorced

from nationhood, too invested in the wel-

fare state, too pacifist, too secular”. As Chi-

na and Russia challenge democracy and

the canon of Enlightenment texts disap-

pears from university reading lists, Mr

Kimmage says, the idea of the West is not

just wavering; it may be doomed.

Mr Bacevich takes a different tack. He is

not interested in the hollowing out of the

West’s ideas in universities and think-

tanks, but in their grandiose inflation

among the political elite. He quotes George

W. Bush telling West Point cadets in 2002

that: “The 20th century ended with a single

surviving model of human progress, based

on non-negotiable demands of human dig-

nity, the rule of law, limits on the power of

the state, respect for women and private

property and free speech and equal justice

and religious tolerance.”

Put like that, it is hard to fault Mr Bush’s

sentiments. However, in “The Age of Illu-

sions”, Mr Bacevich’s gloss is that the coun-

try’s military, political and commercial

elites came to believe American motives

were beyond reproach, and that their

world-view was sure to prevail. They there-

fore took it upon themselves to become

global enforcers. They built a new operat-

ing system designed to cement American

primacy, based on globalisation, military

dominance, the individualistic pursuit of

fulfilment and an imperial presidency.

The enemy within

Yet this system, Mr Bacevich argues, has

been plagued by unintended conse-

quences. Globalisation was meant to create

wealth, but many Americans complain of

inequality; military dominance sucked the

country into never-ending wars that sacri-

ficed the children of lower-income fam-

ilies (but, for the most part, no one else’s);

the pursuit of fulfilment led to the wither-

ing of duty and a selfish, atomised society;

and the supremacy of the presidency be-

came a recipe for voters’ disappointment.

All this culminated in the election of Mr

Trump. The president’s critics, this book

argues, overestimate him even as they un-

derestimate the importance of his victory.

Mr Trump is “a mountebank of the very

first order”, Mr Bacevich writes, but his

presence in the Oval Office is a rejection of

the post-cold-war operating system and all

it stands for. The elites’ focus on Mr

Trump’s wickedness, he maintains, spares

them the pain of having to acknowledge

how pitifully their own project failed.

It is telling that three such different

books all try to understand what went

wrong after the Soviet collapse not by look-

ing overseas but within, at the nature of

America itself. In their various ways, they

all condemn Mr Trump. Mr Nye doubts his

morality. Mr Kimmage sees him as the first

anti-“West” president. Most interesting is

Mr Bacevich, who warns that, although Mr

Trump offered no definition of post-cold-

war America, just a rejection, there is no

going back. That is a lesson for Joe Biden,

the presumptive Democratic nominee,

who gives the sense that going back is what

he would most like to do. 7

I

ngrid persaud’sengaging and vibrant

novel begins in violence. In a story set

in the author’s native Trinidad, Betty, her

son Solo and Mr Chetan all encounter the

dark side of that island’s culture. Betty’s

vicious husband, Sunil, assaults her. “My

arm was in a cast when we buried Sunil a

week later,” she recalls. Mr Chetan’s

landlord is the victim of a brutal robbery,

and he must find somewhere else to live.

He ends up lodging with the widowed

Betty and Solo, and the trio create an

unlikely yet happy family. But nothing is

as simple as it seems.

Ms Persaud trained as a lawyer; she

has won prizes for her short stories, but

“Love After Love” is her first novel. It is

narrated in the lively voices of her three

main characters, braiding their stories

and perspectives together and revealing

their secrets to the reader.

For this is a book of revelations. It is

easy to guess the truth Betty elides at the

beginning of the story: her husband’s

death was not accidental. As for Mr Che-

tan: he and Betty hit it off, and she hopes

their relationship will go further. Per-

haps he does, too. But in a scene both

hilarious and moving, the author depicts

in graphic detail Betty’s inability to wake

his “sleeping soldier”.

Finally, he confesses to her what the

reader has already learned: Mr Chetan is

gay. The repercussions of this admission,

and of Solo’s accidental discovery of the

cause of his father’s death, shape the

story, as these warm and loving charac-

ters struggle to come to terms with their

own feelings, and the feelings—and

deeds—of others.

These personal traumas are also

political. Ms Persaud confronts the

homophobia at large in Trinidad (where

homosexuality was only decriminalised

in 2018), of which Mr Chetan has been a

victim all his life. For his part, Solo ends

up travelling to America to stay with an

uncle in New York. There he must navi-

gate a hostile and frightening immigra-

tion system while struggling with his

burdensome inheritance.

Amid all the sorrow, though, Ms

Persaud’s novel is a delight. It is written

in a lilting patois that sings from the

page, and it is full of warmth and beauty.

Mr Chetan—as good as a father to Solo—

wants the best for the boy: “He mustn’t

go through life being ’fraidy ’fraidy.” Mr

Chetan has learned that himself the hard

way; it is a lesson for the reader, too.

Secrets and lies

New fiction

Love After Love.By Ingrid Persaud. One

World; 336 pages; $27. Faber & Faber; £14.99

No man is an island