Actions have consequences. This is an idea idea that many people know, but few people are aware of how horrible the consequences can be, or how small the action. Of course, one has to figure free will into this as well, because that is how choices are made. One could argue that when Asha and Pohpoh’s mother left it had the consequence of abandoning her children in an abusive situation, but why blame her for her husband’s decisions to commit this abuse anymore than one would blame her daughters for not leaving.
It was an unpleasant shock to me, however, when reading the last section of Cereus Blooms at Night, to realize that there was one unequivocally bad decision and decision maker on whom a large part of the blame for everything that occurred could be placed.
One of the primary themes of the story is to not judge people so harshly, evidenced first by the trial of Mala where the literal judge decides to be merciful because they do not fully know what happened, and later on by the large number of queer characters who are or are not treated as odd by their neighbors: Otoh living life as a man, though not being genetically male; Nurse Tyler’s job and dressing up to impress/entertain Mala Ramchadin; and Ambrose’s sleepiness and then wakefulness, while he also kicks himself harder than anyone else for what was done to Pohpoh.
This theme was most heavily and horrifyingly reinforced, however, by a single line in passing about a decision made by another character who as yet has suffered no ill consequences despite the misery brought into Mala’s life. “None of Asha’s letters were ever delivered because the righteous postman, deeming the Ramchadin house to be a place of sin and moral corruption, refused to go up there” (243). Any of Asha’s letters delivered at any time could have given Pohpoh the motivation and means to run away from that place of sin and join Asha in a happier life. Instead, the postman’s judgement resulted in the victim being subject to worse and worse abuse, culminating in madness. Jesus ate with lepers, and through his kindness they were saved. In a story where “Judge not, lest ye be judged” is a recurring theme, I feel comfortable enough with my own actions to judge the postman as, at the least, intentionally failing in his duties. At the least.
I think you make a really excellent point about this theme in Cereus Blooms at Night. For me this connections to the questions of ‘how do we do queer theory’. How do we recognize the fault in peoples actions and still not condemn the people? In general people don’t like to have two apposing idea’s at once. We like right or wrong, not both. But the book seems to ask us to think about the duality in everyone.
True true! How horrific, that something so simple could have saved Pohpoh from at least some of her suffering.
I think perhaps we (the royal, human we) use this idea of the messenger to displace responsibility. My first thought (and it’s a strange one, but here we go) is actually of Romeo & Juliet. The whole idea at the end of the play is that a messenger doesn’t make it to Romeo in time to tell him that Juliet is merely under the influence of a potion and not actually dead–without this knowledge, Romeo makes the premature decision to end his own life and Juliet has to awaken to her perished partner. So in this scenario it’s easy to blame the messenger, but wouldn’t R&J have failed anyway? They were two rash teenagers who ended up dead after three days of a romance. Their odds, in my opinion, were not terribly good even without the messenger’s intervention (or lack thereof.) So is it true that had Pohpoh received her mail she might have made different choices, lived a different life? Yes. But is it also true that Pohpoh might not have left anyway? That she might have tried, been caught, and killed as a result? That a premature escape could have brought her to other unforeseeable dangers, even if those dangers aren’t other people like her abuser? I think so.
This is a very interesting observation. I think it speaks to the inherent interconnectedness of a community where everyone’s actions directly or indirectly affect other members. The community knew, apparently, about the abuse that Pohpoh was suffering, yet no one chose to do anything. Their collective lack of action thus allowed the abuse to escalate and continue for years. The overwhelming lack of sympathy also explains why Pohpoh stayed with her father- she literally had no where else that she thought she could go. It is easy to forget that Pohpoh was still very young when these events took place, and she had no resources. The town made it obvious that they did not care about her and in fact believed her to be evil. Pohpoh was thus obliged to stay with her father as it is the only place that she has.
I agree that Poopoo was completely abandoned by everyone. The henous acts of her father were unconscionable, but knowing that the town also enjoyed seeing him lose control, like a sport, made me feel ill. Mala’s fear of them telling Chandin about Ambrose’s visits, just to watch his reaction raised bile in my throat. How can a collective conscious allow the victimization of a child to continue? And I agree with Fosterd, there could have been some kindness and humanity on the part of the mailman by giving her her sister’s letters. He could have used a third party, but it is another instance of blaming the victim, of assigning guilt to the guiltless. Those letters could have been the saw that cut the shackles that restrained her from breaking free and running… into the hope that was always there, beyond her grasp