We started this website to explore pulp and post-pulp art and fiction, and related themes in movies, culture, and life. In regard to the fiction, over time we’ve found ourselves drawn to specific subject matter: hurricanes and floods, the French Riviera, Florida, 1950s sexual mores, carnivals and circuses, and tales set in what we consider to be exotic locales. The latter leads inevitably to colonialist fiction, which is typically set in places like Malaysia, India, the Caribbean, the South Seas, and various locales within Africa. Continuing to pursue this interest has brought us today to Gerald Hanley’s Drinkers of Darkness, originally published in 1955, with this Pyramid edition arriving in 1956 fronted by unusually beautiful George Ziel cover art.
Hanley was an old hand in Africa, spending many years there as farmer, soldier, and war correspondent. In Drinkers of Darkness he weaves a story set in the fictional East African plantation district of Mambango circa 1935, where British colonials decide to break up the monotony with a genuine Christmas party. The book tracks events leading up to this party, including a general strike, a ruinous affair, and a fatal stabbing. The New York Times said about the book that, “the scene and the villain is Africa, dark, lush and virulent.” It’s always Africa as a psychic or mystical manifestation that these colonialist authors go to, so we’ve already been where Drinkers of Darkness leads. Many times. Or have we?
In a conversation about converting Africans to Christianity one of Hanley’s minor characters says: “It is a white man’s religion and cannot be understood by blacks. They pick the worst parts of it and use them to argue with us. But there are some parts of it which are meant for blacks and they should be taught those parts only. To hew wood and to bring water is the true work of the blacks.”
So, you have someone saying, in essence: “We can’t live up to Christianity and still be colonizers, so we should ignore it.” It may seem bold to have this person (especially since he isn’t a villain) state that faith should be secondary to profit, but observant folk who care to look at history would conclude that this has always been the case. Hanley is merely writing the truth. He frames colonialism as it was, not as a paean for a vanishing age. He writes brilliantly and with deep emotion about his colonials and their ultimately doomed (and symbolic) Christmas party, while in the background portraying colonialism as intellectually hollow.
The thing about colonialist novels is that they’re nearly always pro-occupation. The protagonists will be pragmatic but paternal. Their attitudes tend to be: “We colonials aren’t perfect, but where would the ________ (fill in the blank) be without us?” The obvious answer—able to determine their own destiny—is always glossed over. There are no acceptable excuses for standing in the way of freedom, but apologist authors float them by the raftload. Hanley is a bit different. He’s an unsentimental writer. He doesn’t apologize or propagandize, and he gets at themes most other writers don’t go near. Drinkers of Darkness is good anyway, but it’s especially worth a read for its illuminating approach to the subject matter.
