The Charm Buyers - Worldbuilding Through Theme
Lillian
Howan's The Charm Buyers is a novel
about truth and lies. This dichotomy
exists within the novel’s other dichotomies: beauty and ugliness, love and
hate, secrets and honesty, money and poverty, fantasy and reality. It is especially pertinent to the entire
concept of charms, especially as they are presented in the novel: Do they
actually work? Or are they as reliable
and honest as anyone and anything else in the world?
Part of
the reason as to why these themes are so consistent throughout the novel is
because Howan imbues them into the world she builds in this story. Everything about Tahiti is based in these
dichotomies. The characters often talk
about how many beautiful women there are in Tahiti, especially the women in
Marc Antoine Chen’s family. Harris even
says, “Beauty is everything. The
reputation of the whole fucking island was built on beauty. The sacred illusion” (13). And yet, Marc is attracted to Marie-Laure,
who is plain and yet—or possibly, because of this—is arguably the most honest
character in the novel.
We see
this, too, in the novel’s comparison between Tahiti and Huahine. While Tahiti is the place where Marc grew
rich through illegal means, all the while lying about what he did for a living
and where he lived, Huahine is the place where Marc is forced to live through
the realities of poverty. At one point
while he is living on Huahine, Marc says, “Aurore had talked about the past
when there was no electricity and the night was starlight and moonlight, the
simple life—pure shit. There was nothing
romantic about having nothing” (240).
Romanticism is also part of the novel’s themes, such romanticizing the
beauty of Tahiti to appeal to tourists, another kind of lying.
I thought
that the organization of the book also lent a lot to its worldbuilding. The first section, Islands, deals primarily with the nature of an island: it is small,
and most everyone knows each other. As
Marc says at the beginning of Chapter 2, “You could drive around the island of
Tahiti in two ours, in a day, in two days… At the other extreme, you could
visit every relative living around the island” (12). This conveys a feeling of claustrophobia,
especially because in this first section, we stay in the islands the entire
time, as Marc does not leave for France until the end of the section.
The first
section is also when Marc begins his affair with Marie-Laure and when he meets
Aurore, the two foils of his romantic relationships. Marie-Laure is his cousin, a representation
of the familial and claustrophobic nature of the island—at one point, Marc
humorously remarks while at a party, “The women were exquisitely beautiful, but
I was related to almost all of them” (25)—whereas Aurore is someone that Marc
has never met before. This dichotomy
begins in Islands because although
Marie-Laure and Aurore are practically opposites, they both represent important
aspects of the island. Marie-Laure is
familiar and familial, whereas Aurore is beautiful yet deceptive. Marie-Laure represents the experience of
Tahiti for its natives, whereas Aurore represents the experience of Tahiti for
foreigners and tourists. This shows the
duality of the island experience.
The
second section, Ghosts, begins with
Marc’s father’s engagement celebration and his wedding. Marc is expected to give a small speech at
the engagement celebration, but he becomes sick at the thought of doing it and
ducks out at the last second, already beginning to estrange himself from his
family—as though he himself is becoming a ghost. The way he describes returning to Tahiti from
France makes him sound like a ghost: “I had come back to the place I had longed
for to find it empty and different in a way that I couldn’t explain and that I
couldn’t escape. I had returned and had
nowhere to go” (74).
After his
father’s wedding, Marc does finally encounter some ghosts. He goes to get water from the spring for
A-tai, his great-grandmother, and there are women there who say that they were
there at the spring long before Marc, and when Marc gets his water, they and
their pickup trick disappear. Marc
describes Tahiti as being “crowded with ghosts,” and this is true on many
levels (85). Tahiti is crowded with
ancestors, family members long dead but still remembered and honored by their
descendants. It is also crowded with
both foreigners like Aurore and natives who have left and returned like
Marc. In a way, they are both ghosts:
unmoored from their homes and unable to find peace in any particular place,
always wandering.
The Charm is, of course, the section
where Marie-Laure falls ill, and Marc makes a trade with the mysterious shaman
Mr. Lu: Marc’s hair for a cure for Marie-Laure.
Mr. Lu promises, though, that along with his hair, Marc will lose
“everything” as Mr. Lu puts it (195).
This is the second fantastical thing to happen in the novel, after the
ghosts; Mr. Lu takes a strand of Marc’s hair and burns it, then touches it to
the healing bead, causing it to renew itself.
This display of magic seems like a fact, as presented in the book—though
we are looking through Marc’s eyes, and it’s possible that his desperation to
save Marie-Laure’s life caused him to believe Mr. Lu’s magical powers.
The
section on charms also calls back to this quote near the beginning of the
novel: “It was the only way the charm worked: as long as it was kept secret,
something known only to you and no one else” (21). Charms are intrinsically tied in with
secrecy, and secrecy is what continually worms its way into—and sometimes
damages—Marc’s life. Marc’s profession,
love affairs, and emotions are all secret.
He loses all of these after making the deal with Mr. Lu.
However,
doubt about whether or not the magic worked continues into Chessboard, as Marc worries that although Marie-Laure woke up, she
is not entirely healed. He also begins
to lose his money, but he is again not sure if this is a result of the magic or
if it was bound to happen anyway. The
way of healing Marie-Laure itself was suspect: Mr. Lu instructed Marc to
dissolve the bead into water and have Marie-Laure drink it, but instead Marc
placed it into the sleeping Marie-Laure’s palm and let it dissolve. Howan does a masterful job of making us doubt
reality just as much as Marc does.
The other
significance of Chessboard is that it deals with the falling out of Marc’s wealth,
wealth that he acquired based on being an adept salesman, just like his
father. Becoming a good salesman
requires dishonesty, which is already a large part of Marc’s life. Because his father is a salesman, it is
somewhat of a familial tradition—Marc even comments near the beginning of the
novel that everyone on the island runs some kind of business. When Marc loses his wealth, he loses his
salesman capabilities, and therefore further estranges himself from his family
and from Tahiti.
As
described earlier, Huahine is where
we learn the dichotomy between Huahine and Tahiti: romanticism and truth, money
and poverty, etc. In the final section, Night, Marc seems to accept the nature
of his situation: how he has become a ghost trapped in his layers of secrecy
and lies. His future with Marie-Laure is
uncertain, and at the end, he walks into the darkness.
By
presenting us with these themes, especially those specific to each section of
the novel, Howan creates a vivid setting.
I have never been to Tahiti, and yet through The Charm Buyers, I see it clearly, lies and all.
I really enjoyed your response -- you touched on many themes,
ReplyDeletemetaphors, and strategic dichotimies that the author was trying to
focus on, but that I was too dense to perceive without being hit over
the head with them! Your thesis statement sums it all up:
It is especially pertinent to the entire concept of charms,
especially as they are presented in the novel: Do they actually work?
Or are they as reliable and honest as anyone and anything else in the
world?
I also hadn't really seen the polarity between Aurore and
Marie-Laurie, and Hauhine and Tahiti, but now that you mention it, it is clear. I hope he chooses truth.
I really appreciate how your response walked through the organization of the book -- it helped me to think of the book as a trajectory that is a journey in its totality, but also an experience with many returns. I agree that the dualities in this book are powerful, especially how Howan breaks them open --- i.e. beauty and illusion could be seen as dichotomies, but in fact they are deeply interwoven. Or inversely, the relationship between simplicity and poverty may seem difficult to parse, but as Marc discovers, they are brutally different from one another. Relatedly, I was intrigued by how wealth functioned -- Aurore's wealth (but ease with being dependent on others) compared to the fortune Marc's entrepreneurship lands, but how she abandons him as soon as he -- the presumably less wealthy individual -- no longer has access to it. These dichotomies and divisions tell the story of Tahiti, but I think the book works because they also create dynamism and tension in the relationships between characters.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed reading your comments. This book is full of so much -- symbolism, relationships, survival (physical, emotional and financial), magic, identity, etc etc. -- that it's impossible to see every concept and literary device after only one reading!
ReplyDeleteSo I especially appreciated your comments on the major sections of the book --- which create the central framework of the book. I was so busy down in the weeds, chopping at smaller ideas that I didn't look up to see the redwoods in front of me.
I appreciated your analysis of the major sections of the book, why they were titled the way they are, and what truths are revealed (or not), what transformations take place (or not) in each section.
Re. "Islands:" To me, Marc is a "Island" throughout the whole book.
First of all, Marc is the narrator, -- whose point of view is the only one we directly see -- which immediately separates him from the rest of the characters. Secondly, because his point of view is the only one we have direct access to, we have to know whether or not we can trust him. Once we see the gap between what he reveals about himself vs. what others say about him, we realize that we have to take his observations with a grain of salt -- in effect, hold him at arm's length, isolating him further.
Also, he automatically separates himself from others by being oblivious to the way he effects others; he doesn't seem to care. We know this from what others reveal about him, and also through the fact that for most of the book he does very little deep introspection despite the crises and choices he has to face He may "belong" to his family and his people, but even they see him as someone separate from the family. Also, because the upper class he was born into, with all of its privileges and wealth, is losing its influence and position in Tahiti, he and his people no longer belong here quite as easily as they did before. As a group they are becoming the outsiders more and more. Finally, as we learn through his description of his relationships, he never opens up or reveals much about himself to others, even those he loves. He can't even openly admit to himself or us that he loves Marie-Laure, even though his actions tell us that he does. Because of his inability to establish these deep connections, Marc finds himself both physically and emotionally alone at the end of the book, and an island unto himself.
As you can see, you've prompted me to think much more about the sections of the book. There's so much to discover here! Thanks for giving us food for thought.