Burma Sahib

The stellar latest from Theroux (The Bad Angel Brothers) frames an insightful portrait of a young George Orwell (1903–1950) within a scathing depiction of British colonialism. The novel opens with an epigraph from Orwell’s Burmese Days: “There is a short period in everyone’s life when his character is fixed forever.” What follows is Theroux’s ambitious dramatization of that process for Eric Blair (Orwell’s real name), who, having graduated from Eton, sails to Burma to become a policeman. There, Blair quickly becomes disenchanted with the shockingly foul attitudes of the British Raj. Though he attempts to toe the line, he soon realizes he will never live up to the brutal standards of his fellow officers (“What had not occurred to him then was that orders might be given out of spite, to humiliate and break your spirit”). He seeks solace in books and in the company of his dog, chickens, and ducks, as well as his “keeps,” Burmese servants who share his bed at a couple of his posts, and the forward-thinking wife of a British timber merchant. But as often as not, Blair bungles his police work, exasperating his racist superiors. Eventually, he comes to recognize that the writer inside him wasn’t the aloof officer he presented as a facade but rather “that other man who’d... hated every moment of his colonial captivity.” With piercing prose, Theroux lays bare the fraudulent and fiercely despotic nature of the British Empire. This brims with intelligence and vigor. (Feb.)