49 pages • 1 hour read
Michael OndaatjeA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Originally from Sri Lanka, Anil Tissera has lived abroad—in Europe and the United States—since she was 18. A forensic pathologist, she has worked for numerous human rights organizations, identifying remains after periods of violence in various places. She returns to Sri Lanka after a 15-year absence to investigate the potential human rights violations being committed there during the country’s ongoing civil war. She feels alienated from the Sri Lanka of her youth and, thus, from parts of herself: Her parents have died; she no longer speaks the language fluently; the war renders her homeland frightening and strange. Over the course of the novel, Anil rediscovers her connection to Sri Lanka and herself.
Anil’s alienation from Sri Lanka ties her to the theme of Rootlessness and Return. Her rootlessness began early, when she decided as a child to campaign for another name, not merely the result of feeling alienated from the identity assigned to her by her gender and nationality. She is different, and needs a name that suits that difference: “She knew herself to be, and was known to others as, a determined creature” (67). She is not willing to pretend to be something she is not, putting her in direct conflict with traditional Sri Lankan culture. This comes through in her investigations with Sarath, as well. Anil refuses to suppress the truth and becomes unwavering in her desire to uncover Sailor’s identity. Still, Anil’s constant moving and disconnection from her roots keep her truest self deeply hidden. As her lover Cullis comments, “‘You are a complete stranger to me” (35). Anil keeps her own counsel quite close.
Anil’s relationship to the past is complicated, defined by the titular ghosts, which emphasize The Presence of the Past. Her work with Sarath uncovers the truth about the present through searching the past. For example, they find Sailor’s body in an ancient burial ground, suggesting that the nature of Sailor’s death is timeless. In her work and through her conversations with Gamini, Anil begins to forge a new connection to the country of her birth. She becomes invested in the outcomes, not only of Sailor’s identity but also in the relationship between the brothers and Ananda’s well-being. When Ananda attempts suicide, Anil is distraught, linking him to her many ghosts: “He called forth the dead,” she tells Sarath (196). This implies not only the personal ghosts who haunt Anil, like her parents, but also the unnamed, uncounted ghosts who are victims of the endless conflict. Anil begins to take ownership of these atrocities, determined to expose the government’s campaign of violence. In this way, Anil also embodies a counterargument to The Perversion of Politics as she attempts to illuminate the government’s subterfuge. The ultimate result of her research is ambiguous; the author never reveals what happens to Sailor’s body or Anil’s findings. Still, Anil leaves Sri Lanka having embraced the opportunity to return home, reconnect with her roots, and seek the truth. The experience has irrevocably changed her.
Archeologist Sarath Diyasena reflects the theme of the perversion of politics. His attitudes, fears, and history reflect a life lived in a country where nothing is straightforward, trustworthy, or safe. The war has led him to great suffering and tragedy, particularly illustrated through his wife’s death by suicide, which is one of many deaths of despair that are the indirect result of war. The strain of the war also contributes to Sarath’s estrangement from his brother, Gamini. Further, Sarath fears Anil’s determination in searching for answers because he knows better than she does how dangerous the truth can be, especially in times of war and corruption.
As a result of his caution, Sarath comes under Anil’s suspicion from the start: “Was the partner assigned to her neutral in this war? Was he just an archeologist who loved his work?” (29). Her suspicion reflects the difficulty in trusting anyone under a corrupt system of government and in times of civil conflict. Though ultimately Sarath is trustworthy, the dangers of the present moment prevent him from making that clear until the very end, leaving Anil to question his loyalty. She notes, for example, that he claims to have relatives serving in the upper echelons of government—the kind of people who would have access to Sailor’s burial site. Still, Sarath’s interest, as Anil will finally affirm, is in finding the truth, if not always publicly acknowledging their discoveries. He knows they must be careful, telling Anil, “‘You have to trust me” (64). After all, she has no one else to trust, and Sarath understands how the government works better than she.
Ultimately, Sarath sacrifices himself for those he loves, a continuation of his sacrificing himself, burying himself in his work, after his wife’s death. Her memory is sacred. Sarath understands, as Anil does not, that the truth can often be relative. When she says that the truth always comes to light when there is clear and concrete evidence, Sarath disagrees, saying that truth is living “in character and nuance and mood” (259). Thus, in sacrificing himself for Anil, Sarath becomes an avatar of the truth, giving her one more opportunity to reveal it. He knows that he has little chance to survive this exposure, but that Anil will escape, “which was all he wished for” (277). He could not save Ravina, but he will rescue Anil from her own reckless resolve.
Sarath’s younger brother, Gamini Diyasena, seems to be a minor character until midway through the book. This slow insinuation into the story mirrors his nickname, the Mouse, and his relationships to others: “‘I’m the family secret,” he tells Anil (130). His relationship with his brother is difficult—he briefly refers to it as a war—but loving, even amid its contentious nature. He, like Anil and Sarath, finds solace in work and the distance it creates between him and his family: “Gamini flung himself into medical school, but most of all into the world outside the family” (221). He leaves behind his quiet, observant childhood and he transforms himself into a different kind of warrior. He despises the war and those that perpetuate it, yet he thrives in the environment it creates, losing himself amidst the violence and death. In this way, he reflects the theme of rootlessness and return.
His present life appears to be in direct contrast to his comfortable, sheltered upbringing. Their privilege keeps them isolated from the poverty and political violence lurking outside their compound. His guilt, never explicitly expressed, drives him to work to the point of physical exhaustion. He avoids deep emotions, noting “the almost empty house of his heart” (247). His love for Sarath’s wife, on which he never acts, reinforces this emptiness, as if he falls in love with her because she is not reachable. His marriage to another woman for whom he has little feeling further emphasizes this distance. Gamini sinks his identity and sense of meaning into the war, suppressing himself in the process.
Gamini reaches a turning point, however, when he encounters his brother’s body in the hospital, Gamini’s grief suggests that what was once numb inside him is coming back to life: “He could heal his brother, set his left leg, deal with every wound as if he were alive, as if treating the hundred small traumas would eventually bring him back to life” (287). Ironically, Sarath’s murder shocks Gamini into thinking about life, rather than losing himself in chaos, violence, and death. He describes the scene, in his mind, as “a pietà between brothers” (288) like the Virgin Mary looking down at the body of Christ. Ultimately, both brothers are martyrs to a higher cause. Gamini stays with his brother, even as more wounded bodies arrive at the hospital.
By Michael Ondaatje