REVIEWS
Anthony Grayling,
Financial Times, 15/16 January 1994
OBSCURE KINGDOMS by Edward Fox
Hamish Hamilton £16.99, 240 pages
A walk on the royal side
A. C. Grayling
In this stylish, informative and sometimes very funny book, American-born
journalist Edward Fox recounts his personal pilgrimage to five of the world's
remoter monarchies. He went because he wished to understand what makes kings
and kingdoms tick. His travels took him to Tonga, Oman, Nigeria, Swaziland and Java. In each he had fascinating and sometimes
hilarious adventures, related in a dry and sharply observant prose which
signals the arrival, in this first book, of a major writing talent.
Fox turned his back on European
royalties because he wished to encounter monarchy afresh, in unfamiliar guises.
But he repeatedly found himself "face to face with what I was fleeing: the
hand of the British, recreating the empire in their own image." Were it
not for the British none of these monarchies would be as they are; most would
not even exist.
Tonga's King Tupou IV granted
Fox an audience, and during it demonstrated a simplified method of addition for
use in primary schools. The King not only invents things -- a joint rugby and
soccer goal post, used all over Tonga, is another example -- but conducts
agricultural experiments, solves archaeological problems, and is the holder of
his kingdom's pole-vault record. He is the fattest man in Tonga because he eats
the most, a sign of royal power. It is clear that Fox,
although bemused by Tupou, enjoyed meet him, and
learned an important lesson: that delays and difficulties are occupational
hazards of royalty-watching.
It was much more difficult for
Fox to get at His Majesty the Sultan of Oman, an absolute monarch in the
traditional oriental mould. He succeeded in attending
a levée at which subjects queue to shake the Sultan's hand; but requests for an
interview were denied, and when Fox tried to observe the Sultan on his annual
meet-the-people tour, in a Bedouin-style cavalcade with Mercedes Benzes
substituting for camels, he failed. So instead he read
the history of Oman and the "mirrors for princes" written to instruct
rulers, and pondered on the fact that “roads and roundabouts are the distinctive
post-oil Arabian art form", explained perhaps by the fact that they
represent an "ultimate triumph over the former hardships of desert
travel". Fox did not come away unimpressed; when he went to shake the
Sultan's hand it was in a throne-room that looked like the inside of a gigantic
Fabergé egg.
After difficulties of Oman Fox
found Nigeria a joy, because it has not one but
hundreds of kings and he was able to interview a number of them -- the Aragbiji of Irigbiji, the Akirun of Ikirun, and even the
two greatest "obas", the Alaafin of Oyo and the Ooni
of Ife. In Yoruba religion Ife is the site of Creation. The exact spot, Fox
reports, lies opposite a Total petrol station, marked by an enigmatic granite
pillar. Each oba is a guardian of the traditional religion. For those who are
now Moslem or Christian this presents difficulties. To become an oba one has to eat the dried heart of one's predecessor, served in
soup. But the benefits, it seems, usually outweigh scruples; on meeting an oba
one says "Kabiyesi!" which can either be
translated "May you live long" or "You cannot be
contradicted".
Heartened by his successes in
Nigeria Fox proceeded to Swaziland, only to be disappointed again. Young King
Mswati III proved unmeetable, hidden behind layers of suspicious advisers. Fox
noted a mysterious empathy between the Swazis and the British: "They saw a
bit of themselves in
each other. Each had a culture of clenched good manners,
restraint, discipline, understatement and secrecy, arranged in a strict social
hierarchy with a King at the top." The Swazis have a saying: "Let the
Swazi and the English deceive each other with politeness, and the Zulu and the
Boer have it out with clubs."
But all frustrations were
compensated in Java, where Fox had a satisfying encounter with Sultan Hamengkubuwono X of Yogyakarta, whose full name runs to two
dozen words. Here Fox was able to meditate on the secret of monarchy: its place
between the secular and divine, its use of the mysteries of inaccessibility,
its function as a centre for artistic display,
political patronage, and symbolic meanings. It is a privilege of royalty to be
unavailable when it chooses; in Nigeria an oba's henchmen would turn away
petitioners by saying his master was still abed. "These kings were like disappointing
zoo animals," Fox remarks, "always asleep when you wanted to see
them.”
The author of this highly
entertaining mixture of travelogue, history and royal essay appears as a wryly
engaging observer. One looks forward to his next book with great relish.
Times Literary
Supplement, 14 January 1994
The king’s the thing
Katie Hickman
Ten years or so ago, anyone who
owned a pair of Timberland boots, and had enough money for a cut-price ticket
to Timbuktu felt free to inflict a book about their journey on English readers.
Over the past few years, however, publishers are no longer keen to fund this
kind of project; the result is a pruned but altogether more thoughtful body of
travel prose. Obscure Kingdoms is a book in such a vein. Instead of taking a
country, Edward Fox takes a theme, and with it, a pleasingly oblique way of
looking at the world.
Fox's theme is kingship. Who, or
rather, what, he asks, are kings? And how, at the end of the twentieth century,
an age surely inimical to them, have they managed to survive? They are thought
by some to bring paradise to earth, "fructifying the land and subduing it
at the same time". Others are thought to be capable of attaining a
mystical union with God: they are receptacles of supernatural power. Is kingship
(there are no queens in Fox's compendium) a symbol of self in its highest state
of fulfilment? Or is it merely a form of delusion, a state of manic-depressive
psychosis? (Fox wryly points out that the cure for ordinary mortals who suffer
from similar psychosis -- delusions of grandiose identity etc
-- is 800-1600 grains of lithium daily.)
Although his quest takes him to
five different countries, Java, Nigeria, Swaziland, Oman and Tonga, there can
be few travel books in which the author is quite so dismissive about the actual
act of travelling. In fact, he sets out to do as little of it as possible. In
Java, waiting to see the king, he boasts of how he did not visit Borobudur, the
fabulous Buddhist temple complex which rivals Angkor Wat; he preferred to sit
on the verandah of his hotel and read War and Peace. And,
he despises other travellers: "I was interested
in transcendental kingship. With them it was just Bali, Bali, Bali."
Indeed, he becomes so locked into the idea of his "quest", that the
search for material, for cracking the nut -- an intellectual rather than a
geographic nut --becomes an obsession. There is probably no travel writer who
has not experienced something of this sort, but Fox carries it further than
most. In each country that he visits, he sets out to meet the king. But kings,
of course, are notoriously difficult to meet. In Nigeria, Fox dreams that he
has been condemned to spend the rest of his life compiling an encyclopaedia of Yoruba kings (of which there are countless
numbers): in Java, he arrives to find that he has just missed an important
palace contact, who is carried out of his house in his coffin as Fox arrives.
One cannot help feeling that the official has died on purpose, in order to avoid seeing him. Just getting to Jakarta, a
longish but simple aeroplane journey, reduces Fox to
a state which he describes as "plankton ...eyeless, defenceless,
senseless, directionless". In Nigeria, where the Yoruba language is tonal,
it is some time before he realizes that instead of saying the word for
"palace" each time he gets into a taxi, he has in fact asked for an
"albino". Fox is always lucid, and his observations are
counterpointed by a fine, dry sense of humour. His
analysis of the mystery of kingship is elegant, but Obscure Kingdoms succeeds
best as a study of obsession (it is the only travel book I have ever come
across which might reasonably be expected to sell the strip cartoon rights.)
The kings’ world, like one populated by fabulous mythological beasts (which in
a sense they are), frequently takes on the flavour of
hallucination. “Everywhere I went… meaning seemed to evaporate as soon as I
approached it. It glittered only from a distance, like a mirage.”
Since we can no longer travel
further than our predecessors, today’s travelers must journey deeper. In this,
Edward Fox admirably succeeds.
Literary Review, October
1993
Sucking Pig and Yams Explain
their Torpor
JANET GRUBER
OBSCURE KINGDOMS By Edward Fox
(Hamish Hamilton 258pp £16.99)
IN AN AMBITIOUS attempt to
explore the nature of kingship in its ceremonial, spiritual and political
aspects, and to understand the reasons for its survival in places as disparate
as Tonga, Oman, Nigeria, Swaziland and Indonesia, it is the spiritual dimension
which most intrigues Edward Fox: how and why rulers create and maintain the
perception and acceptance in their subjects of a link between temporal and
divine power; why there is always an element of the sacred associated with the
person and office of the king. Fox sets out to interview the rulers themselves,
to ask them directly how they view their roles and tasks, especially their
relationship with the sacred.
His choice of Eshu, the Yoruba deity , as guide
and mentor for such an undertaking is not such a good idea; he is after all the
Trickster God in the pantheon of the Yoruba people of southwestern Nigeria,
amoral and wont to use and confuse mere mortals for his own amusement. He is
said to accompany travellers, frequently leading them
astray down difficult and dangerous paths. It is all credit to Fox's tenacity
that after long delays and much kicking of heels in the antechambers of the
mighty he manages to have meetings with his chosen subjects everywhere but
Swaziland, although his contact with Sultan Qaboos of Oman is limited to a limp
handshake. It is hardly surprising that all are reluctant to give the game
away, to reveal any links their rule may have with the spiritual or divine.
The only one to provide more
than a hint is Sultan Hamengkubuwono X, perhaps
because Javanese culture and cosmology are so precisely codified. By contrast
Fox comes up against an absolute and rigid refusal when attempting to gain
access to the young King Mswati III: the cordon of advisers and interest groups
remains totally impenetrable, exemplifying the truth of the Swazi national
motto: 'Siyinqaba', 'We are the fortress'.
The visits to the five countries
are prompted by a desire to investigate kingdoms untouched by European
influence; a tall order and naive hope, given the once-pervasive presence (and
still sometimes relevant imprint) of the British everywhere but Indonesia --
and even here Fox unearths a rather tenuous link between Stamford Raffles and
the present authority of the Sultanate of Yogyakarta.
There is a certain irony in
reading descriptions of rulers who have all realised
the necessity of achieving a balance between distance and proximity, between
awe-inspiring majesty on the one hand and approachability and concern on the other, and comparing their varying degrees of success with
the recent dismal record of the British royal family.
Much of Obscure Kingdoms is
taken up with waiting for the call to the palace, for Fox to put on his
ceremonial costume of Brooks Brothers' blue and white seersucker suit and sally
forth. It is in fact the waiting, rather than the eventual meetings with rulers,
which provides most of the interest of this sometimes haphazard but frequently
engrossing book. Fox supplies many interesting snippets from history and anthropology .He writes of the manner in which Qaboos
engineered the overthrow of his father in 1970 with the help of a conveniently
available SAS detachment -- no easy task when he had been his father's prisoner
for the previous six years. Sultan Sa'id had become
increasingly eccentric during his reign, installing telescopes in his palace to
watch over his subjects at all times. He would
occasionally overstep the mark, for example telephoning the British Consulate
in Muscat across the bay to protest whenever he saw someone smoking on the
verandah.
Fox describes the acceptance by
Yoruba people of the power of witchcraft in everyday life in Nigeria, where a
national newspaper tells how a mother angry with her son caused an accident to
his brand-new car from which he barely escaped alive. Fox (an American educated
in the UK) also notes the close resemblance between the British and the Swazi,
quoting a saying to emphasise his point: 'Liswati nalingisi, Zulu nelibhunu' -- 'Let the Swazi and the English
deceive each other with polite- ness, and the Zulu and the Boer have it out
with clubs.' In Yogyakarta he realises that not only
the person of the Sultan, but also his palace, Mount Merapi, and the beach of Parangkusumo have their place in a specific and preordained
symbolism where sacred geography joins with the holiness inherent in the person
of Hamengkubuwono to create a coherent whole.
Obscure Kingdoms brings to life
many of the people and the cultures with which Fox comes into contact during
his search for the meaning of kingship. Omani society is so eerily calm and
enclosed that few foreigners gain any real access. The chief failure is Tonga,
which remains flat on the page perhaps because it was the first country visited
before Fox fully refined his technique of dealing with royalty. His interview
with the king is arranged with ridiculous ease compared to the tribulations
encountered elsewhere, but it is notable for its banality. It may well also be
that Tonga itself breeds torpor; the amount of food eaten (with vast quantities
of sucking pig and yams central to the menu) would certainly be conducive to extreme
laziness.
Michael L. Nash,
Contemporary Review, December 1994
Book Review – Obscure Kingdoms
What can one say about a book
which has only one footnote, and that footnote is about the meaning of life?
This is an indication of this extraordinary and absorbing book. The reader is
intrigued also by the author, an American who studied both at Cambridge and
Columbia, and who combines a winning reticence and modesty with an original and
memorable turn of phrase. It is a somewhat surprising mixture of the American
film director and the traditional English scholar. In absorbing both of these cultures, Edward Fox set forth to discover the
meaning of monarchy; not from the well-known and ancient monarchies of the
West, so sorely tried in recent times, but from the 'obscure' monarchies of
Tonga, Swaziland, Nigeria, Oman and Indonesia.
A great deal is to be learned
from this book, on all kinds of levels. It is entertaining and philosophical;
it is an excellent travel book of a traditional genre; it is above all (and in
this it succeeds) an explanation of the world's fascination with the idea of
monarchy. It explores 'the peculiar, the supernatural and the ceremonial', and
using the analogy of the onion, peeling away layer after layer, attempts to get
to the heart of monarchy. Fox spent a great deal of time waiting to see his
chosen sovereigns. He concluded, quite correctly, that this an essential
element of the institution. A great many people wait a great deal of time. In
doing so, they focus the mind, though not always the patience. Englishmen could
have told him that if you scratch a monarchy, you will almost certainly find
British influence somewhere. He was surprised to find that the British had
ruled Java from 1811 to 1816 and had left their mark, but it was so. More
predictably, in Oman, in Nigeria, in Swaziland and in Tonga British influence
was apparent, if not indelible.
Distance and accessibility are
part of monarchy: a balance is required. The kings of Tonga, Swaziland and Oman
are all heads of state; those in Nigeria and Java have a social sovereignty,
and a religious one, but not necessarily a state or political one, although one
tends to tip over into the other. In Java the Sultan is king and politician,
(cf. the metamorphosis of Otto von Habsburg from heir to one of the greatest
monarchies on earth into one of the subtlest, most consummate
and experienced politicians in Europe).
When monarchies fail, their
shadow is sometimes very long, as if rooted in the human psyche. In Hawaii one
of its princes became a long-serving American senator; in Java the sultans were
crowned at the spot where the presidents of Indonesia are now inaugurated.
What is still surprising is that
all monarchies seem to have so much in common: the king has some kind of
meditative or ethical role; he symbolizes the people and their identity; those
through whom one can gain access are important because of this role. There is
also the union of opposites; the union of male and female principles -- no
wonder it is difficult being a sovereign!
One is constantly amused and
delighted by Fox's language. We identify with him in every situation. He is
human and witty. In Java the Sultan's throne room 'was like the interior of a
gigantic Faberge egg'; of the interpreter: 'She spoke shattered English at a
furious rate': more is quotable than one review would suffice.
It is perhaps fitting to end on
a British quotation (even if a politically incorrect one). Attitude towards
monarchy acts like some kind of solvent, or litmus paper: it changes other
conceptions or overrides them. Edward VII, as Prince of Wales, tried his
diplomatic skills to win over King Kalakua of Hawaii,
to bring him over to the British side when he was veering towards the
Americans. On a visit to London he was literally
treated royally, wined and dined on every occasion, dancing with the Princess
of Wales, and given precedence over mere princes. This was too much. The Crown
Prince of Prussia objected. The Prince of Wales retorted: 'Either the brute is
a King, or he's a common or garden nigger; and, if the latter, what's he doing
here?' This, like the book, speaks volumes for both monarchy and for attitude.
Charles Glass, Catholic
Herald
A Kingdom for the
Taking: Colonial Self-Imagining and Contemporary Responses to
Swaziland
Kerry Vincent
http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/10131751003755955
Dear Dr Vincent,
I was amazed to see your article
on Obscure Kingdoms in English Academy Review. Everything you say is fair
enough, but there is one thing I must tell you, even though it's all water
under the bridge.
You wrote (p. 79): “At another
moment, Fox overtly turns to fiction in his attempt to maintain mastery. He
imagines ‘ the memoirs of a hypothetical tutor,
charged with teaching the boy-king the lessons of history’ (p. 175). For
instance: ‘The King never listened to anything I said. Sometimes I would give
him a page of a book to read. I would hand the book to him and wait while he
read it. It was the only way I could be sure of getting him to read anything. I
would glance over at him as he struggled with the text, moving his lips as he
read.’ (ibid.) His fictional fantasy that reduces Mswati to a semi-literate,
spoiled brat and situates himself in the tradition of royal colonial tutor may
be good fun, but a kind of parallel in reverse can be drawn with Owen O’Neil’s
Adventures in Swaziland, where the author incorporates actual photographs into
his fictional narrative. The caption underneath a photograph of Labotsobeni is supposed to be a quotation from the Queen
Regent herself: ‘The white man’s little black box is very wonderful!’ (1920,
197). He then claims that it was the only photograph ever taken of her. Owen’s
belittling and racist treatment of his subject may be a product of a particular
time and place, but though long out of print, many of the book’s strategies
stubbornly appear in other guises.”
This stung me, and I'll tell you
why. You're referring to the paperback edition. The hardback edition was
different in this part of the narrative. My way into Swaziland, all those years
ago, was a former tutor to the king. He indeed was the person who got me interested
in Swaziland in the first place. He was of great help to me & even let me
stay in his house outside the capital. He told me extraordinary and not very
complimentary things about the boy-king as he then was. I put these all into
the book -- the first edition, that is. I guess this made him furious. He wrote
to the publishers a very cross letter and insisted that in any future edition
reference to him be removed. I didn't want to upset him, and in a spirit of
conciliation agreed to alter the text to remove reference to him. ("I may
want to go back to Swaziland in the future," he wrote.) Hence the
"fiction" you referred to in your article. I changed the real tutor
into an imaginary one. I still feel bad about that, and if the book is ever re-published I will want the original (hardback) text to be
used.
With good wishes,
Edward Fox