“Mala’s abrupt withdrawal was welcome. It was as though, as time passed, Ambrose had fallen in love with desire itself and the act of desiring was its own fulfillment. …But when Mala pushed him gently away, he was forced to acknowledge the companion that desiring had become for him over the years. He was, he realized, unwilling to jeopardize his relationship with desire. If he succumbed to Mala’s treasures, desire could change, would disappear even” (pp. 217-218).
“[Ambrose] looked feebly around for a knife to protect himself, all the while feeling shame for her and for himself – as though he had been betrayed by Mala, and at the same time wrestling with the notion that she could not possibly, not conceivably have been agreeable to intimacies with her father. In that instant of hesitation he so distanced himself from Mala that, like an outside observer, he saw the world as he had known and dreamed it suddenly come undone. …[Ambrose] shrank with the thought that a call for help would expose the shameful goings-on in the house, to which he had become connected” (pp. 227-228).
These two passages relay Ambrose’s inner monologue as it relates to Mala, and they work well as foreshadowing for how he operates in the later years of his life. Ever since Ambrose was a child, he was infatuated with Mala (Pohpoh, at that time) and the concept of being close to her forever, but never succeeded in wooing her. After Ambrose went overseas, it seems as though his desire for the concept of a relationship with Mala was incubated, unable to be resolved because of lack of proximity, and so only grew. However, because Ambrose knew little about Mala’s actual life in the first place, and missed out on years of development of her situation, his perception of her would likely have become an idealistic fantasy. He became much more attached to the sensation of wanting her than her actual interiority, and this persisted even after he moved back to his hometown. This is why the last couple of sentences of the first quote imply that achieving a serious intimate relationship with Mala came as second fiddle to his love for pining after her, because actually knowing her would put an end to fostering this years-long desire with which Ambrose had grown so comfortable.
The second quote drops the reader into Ambrose’s head just as he has run away from Mala’s final confrontation with her horrifically abusive father. Throughout this passage, it becomes explicitly clear that his first priority is himself in this situation. His desire for Mala became more about himself finally having his perfect version of her, who loved listening to him talk even though he didn’t explain the complicated terms and phrases he used, who would travel with him and cook for him, who would fall in love with him without having any baggage attached. This is why his first response is to feel betrayed – for many years, he had built up desire for a much less complicated version of Mala, and now her reality was disrupting his belief. The reader is aware that absolutely none of this is Mala’s fault, but Ambrose (at least in this moment) cannot shake the feeling that this is something she is doing to him. (Of course, Ambrose is also definitely in shock, but reading into how Mootoo writes his kneejerk reaction can still tell us a lot about his state of mind.) If we read Ambrose’s affection for Mala as a bit shallow, based more on his idea of her than who she has become while growing up, this could explain why his desire for her takes an abrupt backseat to the priority of his reputation in Lantanacamara. He grew up on the island, and knows how people talk. Again, he foreshadowed this, in a way: he did “succumb to Mala’s treasures”, and that did not break his illusions, but that part aligned with his hopes and dreams. When he learned information about Mala that did not align, though, his bubble broke, and his trademark indecision paired with waning positive feelings towards the reality attached to Mala prompted him to extricate himself from the whole situation instead of trying to assist Mala in fighting her father.
Interestingly, Ambrose’s lifelong preoccupation with desire could explain his later obsession with sending Mala care packages and otherwise checking out of his life. After that whole catastrophe, he was able to replace his desire for an uncomplicated Mala with a desire to rectify his mistakes that night and reconnect with the woman he loved. He yearned for who he believed her to be, was briefly interrupted by a shocking reality check, and afterward returned to pining after her, but also after a version of himself who would have fought back and saved Mala instead of leaving her behind.
Wow, this post is so interesting! You captured everything that was going through my head in those scenes—in a far more coherent manner. During his and Mala’s romantic build-up, Ambrose was kind and somewhat thoughtful (I’m thinking principally of his reaction to her name change). And yet, when Mala needed him, he couldn’t meet her where she was.
Matters are complicated by the fact that Ambrose returned after the incident, trying to reconnect with her three times. If he wished to reject the real Mala, wouldn’t he have just refused to seek her out? Perhaps this was Ambrose screwing his courage to the sticking place and deciding that their relationship was worth the effort. Of course, it’s a null point when he ultimately gave up, reasoning that she was too troubled and rageful. His self-described neglectful instincts kicked in, and he continued with his care packages instead of visiting Mala. (pg. 325)
Mala was overjoyed when she met Otoh, thinking he was Ambrose. It definitely made me think she’d been subconsciously waiting for him to come back for her and prove himself. It’s fascinating that you end your post with Ambrose’s attachment to an imagined braver version of himself, because I see that for sure, and maybe that’s why he’s so fond of his son: the actual braver version of himself.
I think this analysis is really interesting in relation to the passage where Ambrose relates his decision to sleep so much. In the book, he directly ties his oversleeping and inactivity to his inability to return and reconnect to Mala. He says “I couldn’t face myself” (Mootoo 234) after his escape on the night that Chandin Ramchandin dies. Ultimately, he only seems to live for Mala, though whether it continues to be out of desire or because he feels ashamed of his actions on that night it’s not entirely clear. I think his intrinsic desire to care for Mala at the end – finally standing up and walking to her house, no longer sitting in slumber all day, going to the nursing home to see her often, etc. – is what finally makes Elsie realize that she needs to live for herself (though my thoughts on that plotline could be a whole blog post honestly).
I really enjoyed reading your reflection! It got me thinking about the concept of being in love with the person versus being in love with the idea of them. So often, we project our ideal image of a partner onto someone and then feel deceived when they don’t match up. When, in reality, it’s not their fault for not living up to a version of themselves that only existed in our minds.
I also found it interesting how Mala does something similar with Ambrose. She imagines him as the prince who will rescue her from her abusive home, and that they’ll live happily in love. But in the end, both of them are forced to confront the harsh reality of Ambrose’s passiveness, which shatters that imagined future.