826 Naipaul, V. s.
even attempting to lay claim to one’s portion of the
earth.” Here he enjoys a measure of success over fate
and the shadow of Hanuman House, dying as a man
of great ambitions—however modest his posthu-
mous achievement.
Joshua Grasso
tradItIon in A House for Mr. Biswas
Despite his disregard for the ceremonies of Hanu-
man House and the strictures of caste and religion,
Mr. Biswas’s life is bound by the myriad traditions
of the postcolonial world. Perhaps most obvious are
the traditions of the Indian community in Trinidad,
particularly as represented by the Tulsis at Hanuman
House. Their family was established by Pundit Tulsi,
who, unlike other Indian émigrés, was not fleeing
the Indian Mutiny or ill fortune. As Naipaul writes:
“The deference paid to Pundit Tulsa in his native
district had followed him to Trinidad and now that
he was dead attached to his family.” This status rein-
forces the ancient concept of caste, which is trans-
planted wholesale among the Indian communities in
Trinidad, making the Tulsis—and anyone attached
to Hanuman House—figures of great importance.
However, in this new world, the lower castes can rise
above their fate and surpass their traditional betters.
This revelation comes to Biswas when he meets his
sister’s husband, Ramchand, a former garden worker
who eloped with his higher caste sister. Ramchand is
reluctant to invite Biswas to dinner, since tradition-
ally he would have no business associating with such
a luminary. Noticing Ramchand’s hesitation, Biswas
remembers “that Ramchand was of a low caste; and
though it was absurd in the Main Road to think that
of a man earning twelve dollars a month in addition
to bonuses and other advantages, Mr. Biswas was
flattered that Ramchand looked upon him as some-
one to be flattered and conciliated.” Thus it is that
many Indians, despised by the Tulsis, prosper and
assume important roles in Trinidad society, while
the Tulsis themselves begin to wither among their
traditional rights and honors.
Though caste and religion go hand in hand,
traditional religious beliefs—like their language—
acquire a distinctly Caribbean accent. Indeed, many
lower-caste Hindus converted to Catholicism or
Presbyterianism in an effort to solidify their new
social standing, holding “all unconverted Hindus in
contempt.” And while the Tulsis numbly rehearse
the ancient rituals of Pundit Tulsi, Mrs. Tulsi is
not above praying to another God to advance her
children. To Mr. Biswas’s immense delight, the
pious Mrs. Tulsi makes her elder son wear a crucifix,
since “[i]t was regarded in the house as an exotic
and desirable charm. The elder god wore many
charms and it was thought fitting that someone so
valuable should be well protected.” Indeed, before
examinations, he is made to undergo a hodgepodge
of rituals borrowing from Hinduism, Christianity,
and British culture (drinking a glass of Guinness
stout). While tradition remains the bedrock of their
faith and identity, they are no longer as “Indian” as
they would like to believe. As Naipaul writes: “They
continually talked of going back to India, but when
the opportunity came, many refused, afraid of the
unknown, afraid to leave the familiar temporari-
ness.” This “familiar temporariness,” as in so many
of Naipaul’s stories, has become their lives.
Yet perhaps the most profound way tradition
functions in the novel is through education.
As a former British colony, Trinidad, like India,
indoctrinates its students with English language
and culture—chiefly through such textbooks as
the Royal Reader and the King George V Hindi
Reader. They learn to recite the Lord’s Prayer in
Hindi, read Wordsworth and Keats, and memorize
the history of the British nation. Following Thomas
Macaulay’s famous statement that “a single shelf of
a good European library was worth the whole native
literature of India and Arabia,” Biswas learns noth-
ing of his native or adopted culture; rather, he is
taught to emulate an English childhood, mentally
replacing palm trees with oaks and hurricanes with
snowstorms. Even in their compositions, the stu-
dents are expected to write about English traditions
and amusements, though their poverty and end-
less round of examinations leaves them little room
for enjoyment. Reflecting on Anand’s education,
Naipaul notes that “[c]hildhood, as a time of gaiety
and responsibility, was for these exhibition pupils
only one of the myths of English Composition . . .
only there did they indulge in what the composition
notes called ‘schoolboy’s pranks.’ ” Likewise, when
Biswas decides to take up writing, he sends off for