A House for Mr. Biswas 825to read Marcus Aurelius; write short stories; and, in
general, act in ways totally unbecoming a Tulsi.
Joshua Grasso
SucceSS in A House for Mr. Biswas
Throughout his life, Mr. Biswas struggles to define
success as it relates to two worlds: the cosmopolitan
world he encounters in books and newspapers,
offering him a tantalizing glimpse of fame and
romance; and the narrow, circumscribed world of the
Tulsi household, which weighs all his achievements
against communal rank and jealousy. As a young
man with few prospects, he initially seeks success in
a romantic attachment, trying to emulate the heroes
of Samuel Smiles novels. Yet his awkward attempts
at lovemaking are interpreted by the literal-minded
Tulsis as a proposal of marriage. Appalled, Biswas
finds himself sucked into a traditional marriage
which to him—and in the opinion of his family
and friends—is a failure of the first degree. As he
reflects, “he would be losing romance forever, since
there could be no romance at Hanuman House.” In
the world of the Tulsis, success is not a heroic, indi-
vidual achievement but a bitterly pragmatic solution.
For Biswas’s wife, Shama, “ambition, if the word
could be used, was a series of negatives: not to be
unmarried, not to be childless, not to be an undutiful
daughter, sister, wife, mother, widow.” Biswas, raised
on European notions of “making it,” finds it difficult
to view himself as a cultural negative, relying on
the addition of the Tulsis to give him a measure of
respect and identity. Not surprisingly, he dates his
“failure” in life to the moment he entered Hanuman
House, a decision that blasts his hopes as a man of
promise.
As a low-ranking member of the Tulsi house-
hold, Biswas quickly defines success as a way to defy
Mrs. Tulsi and Seth and at the same time carve out
a space for himself on the island. Thus begins his
lifelong quest for a house, where he can order his
life in private and not pay obeisance to the “gods” of
the manor. This refusal to live meekly in Hanuman
House earns him the nickname of “Biswas the pad-
dler,” as one who wants to paddle his own canoe and
steer his own course. Yet it is not until he stumbles
onto the career of a journalist that he tastes his
first measure of success. In this role, he indulges in
his adolescent daydreams by adopting the Western
sobriquet of “The Scarlet Pimpernel” and roaming
the Trinidad countryside as a figure of mystery (dol-
ing out fantastic prizes to those who can recognize
him). Returning to Hanuman House from Port of
Spain, he is no longer the Biswas of old; indeed,
“[h]is return was as magnificent as he had wished.
He was still climbing up the steps from the court-
yard when he was greeted by shouts, scampering and
laughter.” His new position also brings him the ulti-
mate sign of success in society: free meals and bribes.
Nevertheless, journalistic success is not fulfilling:
Biswas is still unable to purchase a house, publish
his short stories (which he starts but never finishes),
or look back on his life with approval. During the
height of his fame, he tellingly confides to his son,
Anand: “I don’t want you to be like me.”
Toward the end of his “career,” Biswas abandons
any thought of his future, looking to Anand for
salvation. His one hope of success lies in getting
Anand to win a scholarship for the university—and,
ultimately, to study abroad in England or America.
Anand’s success becomes Biswas’s greatest triumph,
as his office mates congratulate him on Anand’s
scholarship (which is published in the papers), and
he is able to trump his rival, W. C. Tuttle, whose
own son passed his exams without distinction. Here
Biswas is able to touch the life of freedom and
scholarship denied him as a youth. With affection
he “reserved . . . the pleasure of taking Anand’s
exhibitioner’s form to Muir Marshall’s in Marine
Square and bringing home a parcel of books, free.
He papered the covers and lettered the spines. On
the front and back end-papers of each book he wrote
Anand’s name, form, and the name of the college
and the date.”
Sadly, Anand’s success soon whisks him off to
England, where his letters become less and less
frequent, only to disappear altogether. No longer
able to follow Anand’s career, Mr. Biswas retires
with his family in a hastily purchased house, riddled
with problems and yet undeniably his own. He takes
pleasure in the simple joys of his house and family,
and at the very end of his life, reflects: “How terrible
it would have been . . . to have died among the Tul-
sis . . . to have left Shama and the children among
them, in one room; worse, to have lived without