Arun Joshi is one of the most prominent writers among
the younger Indian English novelists. His place in the field
of Indian English literature during the post-independence
era is undisputed. Joshi came into the limelight with his
very first novel The Foreigner which appeared in 1968. He
instantly grabbed the attention of readers as well as critics
by his new thematic concerns in the genre of novel. Unlike
his predecessors he neither writes fiction for entertainment
nor for any social or political propaganda. He experiments
with the medium of novel writing, for studying the modern
man’s predicament, particularly the motives responsible
for his actions, and the effect of these actions on his
psyche. Arun Joshi himself explains that, “My novels are
essentially attempts towards a better understanding of the
world and of myself” (qtd. in Dhawan, 18). Joshi probes
deep into the psyche of the protagonist and picturises
their mental toil and anxiety. Trapped between the Indian
upbringing and Western influences, his protagonist suffers
from evils of materialism which leads to up-rootedness,
cynicism, loss of faith, and an identity crisis. Joshi’s
protagonists are modern men of this world who are lost in
a society of mixed ideals. His heroes, who rather turn anti-
heroes due to this confused idealism, are running a
fruitless expedition. They are struggling to sustain their
faith in a world which stands in opposition to them. They
are unable to hold on their identity in such a world of
moral confusion. So either they revolt with the society or
completely yield to it. In both cases there comes an
alienation. If the character revolts he is alienated from the
society, and if he yields, he in turn gets alienated from his
own ‘real’ self. The result initially is restlessness, and
finally a self-exploration and self-introspection.
In all Joshi wrote five novels. His untimely death in 1993
brought a culmination to his literary career. Three of his
novels The Foreigner (1968), The Strange Case of Billy
Biswas (1971), and The Apprentice (1974) were published
before 1980. Then came his Sahitya Akademi Award
winning novel The Last Labyrinth (1981) and finally the
last The City and the River (1990). The major themes that
run through all of Joshi’s novels are the themes of
alienation and involvement, East-West encounter and
compromise, love and hate, quest and complacence, and
existentialism and materialism (Kumar, 18).
There are a number of literary influences that have come
into the making of Arun Joshi- a modern era novelist. A
marked influence of the existentialist thinkers was very
apparent on Joshi and his novels. He was very much
inspired by Camus, Sartre, Kierkegaard, Kafka, Beckett and
others. As a result Joshi’s protagonists are the
contemporary modern men, who are in a constant search
for a way of life that would help them to face the
existential problem of this world. This ‘crisis of character’
or the crisis of existence has been depicted in all his five
novels. All his protagonists are restlessly searching for
their roots as well as trying to attain a rational
understanding of the purpose of their existence in this
universe. Thus, his protagonists are, invariably, ‘questers’
or ‘seekers’. They make a journey from illusion to reality.
The third novel of Joshi The Apprentice, like his earlier two
novels, explores the inner recesses of a character that is
torn between two conflicting philosophies – the ‘life’ and
the ‘living’. ‘Life’ connotes the idealism, patriotism, and
faithfulness taught by Ratan Rathor’s father, a freedom
fighter and a martyr. The ‘Living’ connotes the survival
instinct in a world which is full of chaos, corruption,
hypocrisy, and absurdity – where ‘Money’ is the supreme
ruling power. Ratan Rathor, the protagonist of the novel, is
a child of double inheritance. On one hand is his father’s
idealism which teaches him to be a complete devotee for
the general good of his country and his fellow people. His
father gives up his lucrative career of a lawyer in order to
serve his country and fight for its independence. To pursue
a career for personal benefits is termed by his father as
“Bourgeois filth” (Joshi, 32). But, ironically, on the other
hand stands his mother’s pragmatic worldly view. Rathor
remembers her advice:
Don’t fool yourself, son, she said. . . .
It was not patriotism but money, she said, that brought
respect and bought security. Money made friends. Money
succeeded where all else failed. There were many laws,
she said, but money was law unto itself. (Joshi 19)
Such opposing ideals led to the crisis in his character. He
never in his life felt competent of differentiating between
the right and the wrong. He became a man of ‘double’
personality, where he thought in one way and acted in the
other. There remained no synchronisation between his
thoughts and action. So, consequently, he felt powerless
and alienated from his own self and his surroundings as
well. Tapan Ghosh observes in this context:
Crisis in the soul of an individual, who is entangled in the
mess of contemporary life with its confusion of values and
moral anarchy and his untiring quest for a remedy lie at
the core of Arun Joshi’s exploration of human reality in
The Apprentice. (Ghosh, 90)
Initially when he comes to Delhi, a land of opportunities,
he is full of hope and optimism. His rustic innocence
reminds us of the men who came to America, lured by the
‘American Dream’ of being successful and famous.
Similarly, Ratan Rathor arrives in Delhi with a desire to
earn a name and prosperous future for himself. He says,
“And I had no doubt that . . . I should make a mark on
the world, a mark as visible and striking as my
father’s” (Joshi 23). As long as Ratan followed his father’s
idealism he retained his moral core – he had a ‘life’ within
him. But the cut-throat competition and a corrupt and
materialistic society tested his ethics and patience at each
and every step. He undergoes a humiliating experience
while searching for a job, and is rejected and jeered at
every interview. He realised that, “the jobs would be filled
by people who had, in some manner, been pre-
selected” (Joshi 29). Threatened by a bleak future, without
influential connections, Ratan undergoes a profound
change. As a consequence he completely yields to the
sham standards of his society. He learns to keep up
appearances by discarding even ordinary decency and
friendship. However, it was not his ‘real’ self. He was
compelled and pressurised by the society itself. Thus, he
was always aware of his hypocrisy. He describes his own
deviation from the correct path and says:
I had added a new dimension to my life. I had become, at
the age of twenty-one, a hypocrite and a liar; in short, a
sham . . . . From morning till night I told more lies than
truths. I had become a master faker . . . . a faker soon
forgets who he really is . . . . That is when all starts to
crumble. (Joshi 27)
Though he realises that somehow, knowingly or
unknowingly, he is proceeding on the wrong path, still he
feels helpless. He cannot stop himself because ‘living’ is
more important than a ‘life’ of ideals. And to ‘live’ he has
to become practical and selfish. Earlier it was the
question of survival, but later it became mere indulgence.
Ratan couldn’t realise that once a man starts lying and
deceiving, he is forced to continue it. It becomes difficult
to free oneself from the hold of corruption. Such is the
power and enchantment of ‘money’ that Rathor takes a
bribe when he least needed it. Basically there was no
specific reason for taking the bribe – neither need nor
compulsion.
. . . I did not need the money. I am quite sure of that. I
needed it no more than sitting here, after two cups of tea,
I need a third. I may drink it because others do, or
because it is offered free, but I need it neither for survival
nor happiness. (Joshi 58)
He realises, during his confession, that corruption had
become a natural part of his existence. It was as natural
to him as breathing – done throughout the day, without
giving it a second thought. Ratan finds himself completely
lost in this atmosphere. For the sake of job security and
promotion, he even agrees to marry his boss’ niece. At
that time he had no plans of marriage, but still he agrees
because he gets an assurance from his superintendent that
he would never become jobless. More than the proposal
of marriage, he was satisfied by this assurance. Gradually,
he realises that the world runs on ‘deals’. In fact his
marriage too was a deal for his career.
If men forgot how to make deals the world would come to
a stop . . . . It is not the atom or the sun or God or sex
that lies at the heart of the universe: it is DEALS . . . .
They are simply there, like air. (Joshi 48)
So he becomes well-settled in life and enjoys all the
material comforts, still there is no satisfaction at heart.
Discontentment had become a way of life for Ratan. He
feels that there is something that he still lacks due to
which he is not content. In order to fill that scarcity in life
he goes to every extent of indecency. He starts taking
interest in women, visits prostitutes, takes alcohol, and all
other immoral acts. But still he is not satisfied. With the
advent of ‘monetary’ power, his ‘life’ becomes more
monotonous and dead. He is ‘living’ without ‘life’.
However, he is shaken off this moral and spiritual inertia
by the death of his brother-like close friend, the Brigadier.
Rathor comes to know that the bribe he took for clearing
the contract of defective weapons, had directly affected
the Brigadier’s life. The Brigadier had to desert his post
during the Indo-China war because he was supplied with
defective weapons. As a result he couldn’t fight and had
to recede. Due to this desertion, he was going to face a
court-martial. The Brigadier became mentally disturbed by
such social embarrassment and had a nervous breakdown.
And finally he committed suicide. This incident makes
Rathor look back at his life and his actions. He is
ashamed of himself and feels guilty for the Brigadier’s
death. It is then, that he realises the extent of his
degradation. He saw:
. . . the vision of the vast pit at the bottom of which my
[his] life crawled. Like a worm. And, now, this vision
trailed me wherever I went . . . . I felt a fear . . . that I was
going mad. . . . There is no fear like the fear of madness.
. . . Those who descend into madness descend alone.
Immobilised, fuddled, tongueless, misunderstood, laughed
at. Thus I sank. Like a stone. (Joshi 124)
Arun Joshi seems to be largely influenced by Albert
Camus’ The Fall (1956), which is an intense dramatic
monologue of an ethically downtrodden character. The
Apprentice is also narrated in a confessional tone. Rathor
uses this mode to express his dilemma and the social
reality. In a retrospective style, he narrates his journey
from innocence to experience. He, very passionately,
picturises every minor and major incident that brought his
downfall. Rathor makes an honest confession, without
hiding or manoeuvring any detail that would reflect his
hypocrisy, treachery, debauchery and finally degeneration.
Rathor narrates his life-story to a young college student
from the hilly areas of Punjab. Rathor hadn’t confessed his
guilt to anybody else earlier, but he feels an inclination to
narrate everything to this boy. He says that the young boy
reminds him of his father who was similarly “grave and
clear-eyed” (Joshi, 7). Ratan’s father’s sacrifice had made
an indelible impression on Ratan’s psyche. So it seems
that he is making his honest confession, actually, to his
father’s image; his father being the only epitome of
sincerity and selflessness, in his life (Sharma 58-59).
When after the death of his friend, Ratan realises his great
betrayal, he seeks repentance. Initially he blames the
Sheikh for all this mess, because he was the one who
brought the offer to Ratan. But when Ratan confronts the
Sheikh or Himmat Singh, he realises that one cannot
always accuse others for one’s mistake. He realises that
the culprit could be found nowhere but in one’s own self.
The real culprit lies within us, who very easily gets
enchanted with shams and the pompousness of this
materialistic world. Ratan realises that one could not
reform the world, but oneself. Earlier he used to think that
life is like a ‘zero’. A man could not take anything from a
zero. But now he understood that “you can take things out
of a zero! You can make it negative” (Joshi 142). So it is
better to let it be a zero rather than making it ‘negative.
And “it becomes negative when you take out of it your
sense of shame, your honour” (Joshi 142). It is generally
believed that Joshi was influenced by the European
existentialist philosophers. But in The Apprentice we
comprehend that Joshi was equally influenced by the
Gandhian philosophy of social service as well as the
karmic principles of Bhagvad Gita.
According to Gandhi, the greatest religion of man was to
put oneself to selfless service which only suffering and
sacrifice can make possible. (Sharma 75)
Thus Ratan Rathor, letting the world live its corrupted
standards, goes to the temple every morning, before
office, and does the selfless service of wiping the shoes
of the congregation. And he keeps on reminding himself
of being good, being decent, and being of some ‘use’ to
others. He remembers his father’s words which laid
emphasis on the ‘karma’ of a man: “whatever you do
touches someone somewhere” (Joshi 143). This way he
reaffirms his faith in ‘life’ and seeks to get his heart rid of
the ‘bourgeois filth’.
While Ratan narrates his story to the young student, one
comes to realise that Ratan’s life was, obviously’ a
conflict of ‘life’ and ‘living’. From his childhood itself he
was oppressed by this conflict. He was attracted towards
both poles. ‘Life’ was symbolised by his father while his
mother was a symbol of ‘Living’. It becomes apparent that
a child brought up in such an atmosphere of conflict,
would later turn out to be a confused personality. He
wants both, but is able to justify none. When he is idealist
he is starved to death. He sees through the harsh reality of
life where money, power, links and deals were the ruling
factors. So he opts for such a life. But when he becomes
practical, he loses contentment. All the material comforts
that an ordinary man craves for, prove to be incompetent
in appeasing him. Though he takes bribe and lives an
indulgent life, but somewhere in heart he is always guilt-
ridden. And that’s why he always tries to justify his
actions.
If I had taken a bribe I belonged rather to the rule than the
exception . . . . A bribe could get you a bed in a hospital,
a place to burn your dead . . . . For a sum of money
politicians changed sides. For a larger sum they declared
wars. . . . And now if I had happened to have accidentally
indulged in a little slip-up, the sky was not going to fall.
(Joshi 109)
There was always a “little squeaky voice” which tried to
guide Rathor to the true path (Joshi 115). This ‘little
squeaky voice’ was none other than the inner conscience
of Rathor which always resisted the wrong and insincere
path. But Rathor had gradually ‘hardened’ and become ‘a
man of this world’ – docile, selfish, and corrupt. And so
he turned a deaf ear to this voice. It is towards the end
when he realises his mistake and seeks repentance, that
he acknowledges the essence of his existence. He realises
that life cannot be lived on extremes, i.e. completely
idealist or completely practical. One needs to find a
balance, a middle path – the golden path – that makes
‘life’ possible. Though making a ‘living’ is equally
important, but that cannot be carried out by putting at
stake one’s honour, his virtues, and his conscience. A man
can be ambitious, money-minded, and even selfish but he
should not be a ‘lifeless soul’. To survive a balance
should be reached between ‘life’ and ‘living’, else life
becomes a complete ‘waste’.