When, a few days ago, President Obama responded to the Charleston massacre, by saying, “Racism, we are not cured of it. And it's not just a matter of it not being polite to say nigger in public,” the world stopped and gasped at his invoking of the notorious N-word.


It is a word with a complex social history (in which Mumbai plays a role). It is also one of those words that has curiously polarised nuances of context, depending on who utters it: It’s one thing, for example, for one young black guy to call another black guy “nigga” – in fact, as any JayZ fan knows, it’s a term of deep affection and brotherhood.

But it is a very different thing for anyone else – whether white or brown or yellow or pink – to say it. (Interesting thought: what if that exact, self-same word had been spoken, not by President Obama, but by President George W Bush?)

Accurate, functional and correct

The N-word first emerged, quite innocuously, around the 15th century, when Portuguese sailors first encountered the inhabitants of sub-Saharan Africa. They, not surprisingly, called them "negro", a Portuguese word descended from the Latin adjective "niger", denoting the colour black. It was a perfectly accurate, functional and correct word.

The first time we find it used in America was in the early 1600s, when a businessman named John Rolfe recorded a shipment of "negars", or African slaves that landed in the Virginia colony.  But over the next couple of centuries, the word "negro" evolved, in some circles, especially in the Deep South, into the contemptuously spat out "nigra".

Or "nigger".

By the late 19th century the N-word had, because of its associations and history, become widely damned  – although its almost-twin-sister, "negro", was deemed to be OK. In fact, "negro" remained the politically correct term of choice right until the 1960s.

But as the Civil Rights Movement gained ground, things began to change. As the young Muhammad Ali famously said, when he refused to be drafted to Vietnam, “No Vietcong ever called me nigger.”

What had, until now, been the mainstream term "negro" began to ache with the weight of its history, and was therefore replaced by "African American".

Or, simply, by "Black".

Catch a tiger by the toe

Other things, too, changed with the times. Particularly in the cultural and  literary space: the ubiquitous “Eenie meenie minie moe/ Catch a n***** by the toe”, for example, morphed smoothly into “Eenie meenie minie moe/ Catch a tiger by the toe”.

Agatha Christie’s Ten Little N*****s  turned, more laterally, into And Then There Were None.

Rudyard Kipling and PG Wodehouse’s transgressions, too, were quietly cleaned up. And, in an extension of this effort, authors like Enid Blyton were slammed for their racist subtext.

But it was when the much-loved Adventures of Huckleberry Finn was re-published a few years ago, with the N-word replaced, that an important controversy arose: Mark Twain’s admirers accused the authorities of unthinking literary insensitivity. To do that, they said, was to mutilate Mark Twain’s great anti-racist book. To do that was to betray the author, and his ideas. To replace that word – whatever its provenance – robbed the book of some of its beauty, sensitivity and power: it was simply not the same book anymore.

But the larger point is that literature must always be read in the context of the time it was written in, and not in the context of the present day sensibilities. Trying to re-write literature is as pointless as trying to re-write history.

The Mumbai connection

Which, of course, brings us to the curious case of the literary classic that was born in Mumbai.

In the 1890s, the legend goes, Joseph Conrad was a young ship’s officer passing through Mumbai. Staying in a room at the Royal Alfred Sailor’s Home (now the Maharashtra Police Headquarters) in Colaba, he stepped out onto his verandah early one morning and looked out onto the harbour. And there he saw, sailing gracefully into sight, a sleek ship named The Narcissus.

That evocative image stuck in his memory, and a few years later, he used that ship as the setting for his tale of James Waite, the West Indian sailor who manipulates the rest of his crew members over the course of a fateful voyage from Mumbai to London.

The book’s title: The Nigger of the Narcissus.

And it continued to be published by Penguin under that title, right until circa 2009.

But, thanks to its title, the book has had a peculiar history. For starters, when it was first published in the late 1890s, the US publishers refused to use Conrad’s original title, and insisted on changing it to the awkward The Children of the Sea: A Tale of the Forecastle. It was not for any noble reason, though, that the N-word of the title was rejected: it was simply because the publishers believed that a book about a black man would not sell in the US market.

I kid you not

But what followed in 2009 was positively bizarre: WoodBridge Publishing, a small US publishing House, decided to re-publish the book with all the N-words expunged – which, in this case, was perhaps understandable. As someone explained:
“WordBridge Publishing has performed a public service in putting Joseph Conrad's neglected classic into a form accessible to modern readers. This new version addresses the reason for its neglect: the profusion of the so-called n-word throughout its pages. Hence, the introduction of "n-word" throughout the text, to remove this offence to modern sensibilities.”

Which is fine. But the big question that arises is: OK, so now what do you do about the book’s title itself?

The publishers ultimately decided, in what must be one of the most idiotic acts in literary history, that the title must be changed to – I kid you not – The N-Word of the Narcissus.

I salute WordBridge’s keen social conscience. But I think it’s fair to question their literary sensibility (not to mention their plain common sense).

It is great to respect people’s feelings. It is great to try and undo old wrongs, where we can. But I would submit that this needs to be done with a sense of proportion, a certain sensitivity, plus a small modicum of intelligence.

The N***** of the Narcissus was a wonderful piece of literature. The N-word of the Narcissus reduces Conrad’s genius into pure farce.

And, in any case, it doesn’t solve anything. As President Obama said,
“… it’s not just a matter of it not being polite to say 'nigger' in public. That’s not the measure of whether racism still exists or not."

Amen.