How we cite our quotes: (Chapter. Paragraph)
Quote #1
If the woman had sent Kim up to the local Jadoo-Gher with those papers, he would, of course, have been taken over by the Provincial Lodge, and sent to the Masonic Orphanage in the Hills; but what she had heard of magic she distrusted. Kim, too, held views of his own. As he reached the years of indiscretion, he learned to avoid missionaries and white men of serious aspect who asked who he was, and what he did. (1.5)
Why do you think it is Kim's instinct to keep his origins hidden? Why is he so reluctant to be identified as anything in particular? Also, this whole first chapter reminds us that Kim's appearance, more than any other character in the book (though there are others that also go about in disguise), is completely deceptive.
Quote #2
They sought a River: a River of miraculous healing. Had any one knowledge of such a stream? Sometimes men laughed, but more often heard the story out to the end and offered them a place in the shade, a drink of milk, and a meal. The women were always kind, and the little children as children are the world over, alternately shy and venturesome. (3.32)
Over and over, as the lama and Kim travel across India, the narrator emphasizes what a warm and wonderful land it is. Kipling really wants to portray India as a kind place, despite all the secret spy shenanigans. Why might Kipling want India to appear warm and friendly in Kim? How might Kipling's portrayal of India in this novel imply a contrast with England and English manners?
Quote #3
They met a troop of long-haired, strong-scented Sansis with baskets of lizards and other unclean food on their backs, their lean dogs sniffing at their heels. These people kept their own side of the road', moving at a quick, furtive jog-trot, and all other castes gave them ample room; for the Sansi is deep pollution. Behind them, walking wide and stiffly across the strong shadows, the memory of his leg-irons still on him, strode one newly released from the jail; his full stomach and shiny skin to prove that the Government fed its prisoners better than most honest men could feed themselves. Kim knew that walk well, and made broad jest of it as they passed. Then an Akali, a wild-eyed, wild-haired Sikh devotee in the blue-checked clothes of his faith, with polished-steel quoits glistening on the cone of his tall blue turban, stalked past, returning from a visit to one of the independent Sikh States, where he had been singing the ancient glories of the Khalsa to College-trained princelings in top-boots and white-cord breeches. Kim was careful not to irritate that man; for the Akali's temper is short and his arm quick. (4.27)
We keep saying that appearances are deceptive in this book (up to a point, at least), but for every Mahratta who can suddenly turn into a Saddhu, Kim also includes scenes that contain nothing but external appearances. Kipling's portrayal of the train and the Grand Trunk Road often emphasize the spectacle of how people look in India. Which characters does Kipling choose to leave at face value, and which characters have deceiving appearances? How does Kipling's portrayal of people's appearances change depending on whether they show up in a large crowd scene or in a one-on-one encounter between individual characters?
Quote #4
Nowadays, well-educated natives are of opinion that when their womenfolk travel—and they visit a good deal—it is better to take them quickly by rail in a properly screened compartment; and that custom is spreading. But there are always those of the old rock who hold by the use of their forefathers; and, above all, there are always the old women—more conservative than the men—who toward the end of their days go on a pilgrimage. They, being withered and undesirable, do not, under certain circumstances, object to unveiling. After their long seclusion, during which they have always been in business touch with a thousand outside interests, they love the bustle and stir of the open road, the gatherings at the shrines, and the infinite possibilities of gossip with like-minded dowagers. Very often it suits a longsuffering family that a strong-tongued, iron-willed old lady should disport herself about India in this fashion; for certainly pilgrimage is grateful to the Gods. (4.38)
(We can't help but notice the subtle distance that the narrator places between himself and the local people of India in this passage: he talks about "their womenfolk" rather than just women.)
When the narrator talks about this practice of keeping wealthy, elite women hidden from public view, he is talking about purdah. We find it interesting that in the narrator's description of this practice, it relaxes as these well-born women get older. Once they grow "withered and undesirable," they have the freedom to go on pilgrimages around the country in a way that they don't as young women. So this raises the question: isn't it better to be an old woman than a young one in this novel? Certainly, the Kulu woman is a much more distinctive character than any of the other women in the book.
Quote #5
'I did not thieve. Besides, I am just now disciple of a very holy man. He is sitting outside. We saw two men come with flags, making the place ready. That is always so in a dream, or on account of a—a—prophecy. So I knew it was come true. I saw the Red Bull on the green field, and my father he said: "Nine hundred pukka devils and the Colonel riding on a horse will look after you when you find the Red Bull!" I did not know what to do when I saw the Bull, but I went away and I came again when it was dark. I wanted to see the Bull again, and I saw the Bull again with the—the Sahibs praying to it. I think the Bull shall help me. The holy man said so too. He is sitting outside. Will you hurt him, if I call him a shout now?' (5.95)
Throughout the first four chapters of Kim, the biggest marker of Kim's speech is how fluent it is. He knows how to talk to everybody, from the Amritzar girl whom he cons for some extra money to the Old Man Who Fought in '57, who tells his whole life story to Kim.
But now that Kim has arrived at his father's regiment, suddenly his speech patterns have gotten less skillful. He hesitates over the English word "prophecy," and his sentences become very simple and repetitive. Now that Kim is entering this new culture of the white elite in India, his unfamiliarity with this life and its manners is making his speech less fluent and assured than it is at any other point in the novel.
Quote #6
There is no city—except Bombay, the queen of all—more beautiful in her garish style than Lucknow, whether you see her from the bridge over the river, or from the top of the Imambara looking down on the gilt umbrellas of the Chutter Munzil, and the trees in which the town is bedded. Kings have adorned her with fantastic buildings, endowed her with charities, crammed her with pensioners, and drenched her with blood. She is the centre of all idleness, intrigue, and luxury, and shares with Delhi the claim to talk the only pure Urdu. (7.49)
The way that Kipling introduces each of the cities of this novel makes them sound like characters in their own right. Here, Lucknow is beautiful in her "garish" style, meaning that the city is showy and almost too bright. This implies that Lucknow is not a tasteful city, even though it is a rich and beautiful one. "She" is filled with luxury and idleness, again suggesting that Lucknow is gorgeous, but not exactly productive or businesslike. And of course, Kipling keeps referring to the city as "she," which makes Lucknow sound even more human—and even more romantic and attractive.
Of course, considering the fact that the British are dominating the land of India at this point in history, Kipling's decision to call India's cities "she," and to treat the land as a person, strikes us kind of creepy. Do you usually think of cities as people, with specific gender identities? Are we the only ones who find Kipling's description of Lucknow a tad unsettling?
Quote #7
Mahbub was anything but asleep. It annoyed him vehemently that people outside his tribe and unaffected by his casual amours should pursue him for the life. His first and natural impulse was to cross the line lower down, work up again, and, catching his well-wishers from behind, summarily slay them. Here, he reflected with sorrow, another branch of the Government, totally unconnected with Colonel Creighton, might demand explanations which would be hard to supply; and he knew that south of the Border a perfectly ridiculous fuss is made about a corpse or so. He had not been troubled in this way since he sent Kim to Umballa with the message, and hoped that suspicion had been finally diverted. (8.96)
Mahbub Ali is loyal to the British Indian government, yes, but that doesn't mean he totally agrees with all of the fine points of English law. His surprisingly positive attitude toward murder not only indicates a cultural difference between him and the government he serves, but also indicates the legal compromises that the State has made to find allies among the local residents of India.
Quote #8
'Do not be afraid.' Kim spoke as though he could have vanished on the moment. 'My lama has said that he will come to see me at the madrissah—'
'A beggar and his bowl in the presence of those young Sa—'
'Not all!' Kim cut in with a snort. 'Their eyes are blued and their nails are blackened with low-caste blood, many of them. Sons of mehteranees—brothers-in-law to the bhungi [sweeper].'
We need not follow the rest of the pedigree; but Kim made his little point clearly and without heat, chewing a piece of sugar-cane the while.
'Friend of all the World,' said Mahbub, pushing over the pipe for the boy to clean, 'I have met many men, women, and boys, and not a few Sahibs. I have never in all my days met such an imp as thou art.' (8.131-5)
Mahbub Ali initially objects to the idea of the lama with his begging bowl hanging out with Kim's school friends, but Kim points out that, despite appearances, many of his schoolmates have "low-caste blood"—in other words, they are of mixed race.
This conversation between Kim and Mahbub Ali indicates a weird complexity in Kim's racial politics. Mahbub Ali objects to the idea of a poor person of color going to Kim's British-run school, but Kim points out that many of the students at his school are secretly mixed race, which means that the lama shouldn't be out of place there. He is suggesting that there is a difference between appearance and blood, and that the appearance of a Sahib can sometimes hide "low-caste blood."
The implication that mixed-race origins is something to be ashamed of—something that people must disguise—is proof of how racist Kipling's imperialist assumptions can be. Mahbub Ali compliments Kim for being an "imp" because he doesn't take his fellow students's race for granted. But we think that Kim's eagerness in looking for signs of other people's "real" race (as though race is something "real" and "natural" that means something in-born and unchangeable about a person's character) is dangerous and prejudiced.
Quote #9
Kim looked intently [at the broken jar]. Lurgan Sahib laid one hand gently on the nape of his neck, stroked it twice or thrice, and whispered: 'Look! It shall come to life again, piece by piece. First the big piece shall join itself to two others on the right and the left—on the right and the left. Look!'
To save his life, Kim could not have turned his head. The light touch held him as in a vice, and his blood tingled pleasantly through him. There was one large piece of the jar where there had been three, and above them the shadowy outline of the entire vessel. He could see the veranda through it, but it was thickening and darkening with each beat of his pulse. Yet the jar—how slowly the thoughts came!—the jar had been smashed before his eyes. Another wave of prickling fire raced down his neck, as Lurgan Sahib moved his hand.[…]
The jar had been smashed—yess, smashed—not the native word, he would not think of that—but smashed—into fifty pieces, and twice three was six, and thrice three was nine, and four times three was twelve. He clung desperately to the repetition. The shadow-outline of the jar cleared like a mist after rubbing eyes. (9.49-54)
When Lurgan is trying to assess how good Kim is at seeing beyond appearances, he attempts to hypnotize him into believing that a broken jar has become whole again; Kim is the first person who has ever resisted Lurgan's hypnosis without practice or training. Kim has a natural skepticism that makes him a great spy.
But we are also interested in the subtle racial implications of this passage. While Kim is trying to hold on to his rational knowledge that the jar is broken, no matter what Lurgan is suggesting, he finds himself saying the English word, "not the native word," which helps him to remain conscious. Why would thinking in Urdu make it harder for Kim to resist hypnosis? What might Kipling be implying with this detail?
Quote #10
Through the afternoons he and the Hindu boy would mount guard in the shop, sitting dumb behind a carpet-bale or a screen and watching Mr Lurgan's many and very curious visitors. There were small Rajahs, escorts coughing in the veranda, who came to buy curiosities—such as phonographs and mechanical toys. There were ladies in search of necklaces, and men, it seemed to Kim—but his mind may have been vitiated by early training—in search of the ladies; natives from independent and feudatory Courts whose ostensible business was the repair of broken necklaces—rivers of light poured out upon the table—but whose true end seemed to be to raise money for angry Maharanees or young Rajahs. […] At the end of the day, Kim and the Hindu boy—whose name varied at Lurgan's pleasure—were expected to give a detailed account of all that they had seen and heard—their view of each man's character, as shown in his face, talk, and manner, and their notions of his real errand. (9.109)
There's this odd contradiction we've noticed in Kipling's portrayal of appearances in Kim. On the one hand, you are not supposed to be taken in by false appearances—people lie with their clothes and mannerisms all the time in this book, especially Kim himself. But on the other hand, Lurgan trains Kim and the Hindu boy to become skilled at evaluating people precisely based on how they look.
When is it okay in this book to judge by appearances, and when is it not? Who is truly skilled at seeing through disguises and who is not? What differences can you find between characters who are and are not deceived by appearances?