Blog Post #5- Ecocritical Postcolonialism in Ghosh’s “The Hungry Tide”
Ecocriticism and postcolonial theory, at initial view, don’t seem to necessarily intersect or interact. Ecocriticism concerns the “trees and plants,” and postcolonial concerns “the third ld.” Yet this initial impression is naive and reductive. We see this sort of opposition in the book itself, with the conservatory efforts of the state being in conflict with the settling of Dalits in the Sundarbans. The book points out, and as many critics have, that one cannot separate the two spheres. That is to say that if one is to be ecocritical or speak of the environment, of the “natural world,” one must engage with postcoloniality. Critic Brandon Jones states this accurately when he remarks
Mark McGurl writes that the Anthropocene as geological present “exacerbates and magnifies the dilemma of human agency, locating the blowback of the waste products of modernization on the blurry line between intention and accident” (383). What this means in the case of The Hungry Tide is that through the lens of geological deep time, one of the novel’s central conflicts becomes how consciously to reconcile modern colonialist responsibility for human violence and environmental exploitation in South Asia with the accidental consequences of stratigraphic encroachment and global climate change. (Jones 2018)
The novel presents seemingly accidental “hand of god” type climatological phenomena as not isolated happenings. The type of happenings that we in globalized society have all grown accustomed to, yet here this is not the case. The book in very a elegant and tragic way historizes these phenomena as being wrapped in the social and political lives of the Dalits. Hence, space in the novel is not empty or dead but carries with it in very postcolonial fashion significations towards the past and present. This can be seen throughout the novel, but especially in the ending, as Forkir’s presence in time is sprinkled throughout the Sundarbans as routes on a GPS.
Time and history play a role in novels likewise, in as much as they seem to always find their way into the lives of our characters. The book is driven in part by Kainai and Piya, who have conscious and unconscious reasons for taking part in this adventure. On the surface, it’s purely pragmatic. Piya is going there because it’s her job to study dolphins, and Kainai is going begrudgingly to retrieve something. Yet as the novel descends deeper into the history of our characters, we find not just personal revelations but historical ones. By the end of the novel, the sphere of the personal and political is disrupted. For instance, what seems to Kainai as the ramblings of an old socialist turns into a beautiful and tragic account of a seemingly forgotten history. It points to the way globalized, postcolonial societies intertwine temporalities and spaces to erase the consequences of colonialism.



