The Jungle Books Read Free

I’ve been—
    Me that ’ave gone where I’ve gone—
    Me that ’ave seen what I’ve seen—
    â€™Ow can I aver take on
    With awful old England again,
    An’ ’ouses both sides of the street,
    An’ ’edges two sides of the lane,
    An’ the parson an’ gentry between,
    An’ touchin’ my ’at when we meet—
    Me that ’ave been what I’ve been?
    The
Jungle Books
show a world as Kipling believed it should be, ruled by powerful and wise laws that are communal, practical, and unquestionable, obeyed by all who live there. As an Englishman in England, Kipling believed that some people—those who were white and spoke English—were better made out to rule. But in his writing, in the
Jungle Books
for instance, such racist assertions are contradicted. It is not the foreign white men but the native inhabitants of the jungle who know how to survive and who are their own best leaders. It is strange how mistaken an intelligent writer can be in real life, and how wise he can show himself in his fiction. In another poem, “We and They,” Kipling allows a child to wonder about these prejudices:
    Father, Mother and Me
    Sister and Auntie say
    All the people like us are We,
    And every one else is They.
    And They live over the sea,
    While We live over the way,
    But—would you believe it?— They look upon We
    As only a sort of They!
    The
Jungle Books
became immensely successful, and sparked many imitations. The best-known was written by an American, Edgar Rice Burroughs, who changed the wolves into apes, set the story in Africa instead of India, made Mowgli white, and renamed him Tarzan.
    But the
Jungle Books
are not only about Mowgli. Tucked away among the jungle tales proper are several that concern other humans, such as Toomai of the Elephants and Kotuko the Inuit, who lives in the Northern or Elder Ice, “beyond the white man’s ken.” Other stories tell of different beasts: a seal, a mongoose, an old crane, a jackal, a crocodile. Though all of these thrilled me, none moved as much as the second tale in the second volume, “The Miracle of Purun Bhagat,” the story of an efficient Indian bureaucrat who after following the teachings of his English overlords and becoming Prime Minister of one of the semi-independent native States, leaves everything to become a holy man, with a begging bowl and an ochre-colored dress. “He did a thing no Englishman would have dreamed of doing,” Kipling writes, “for, so far as the world’s affairs went, he died.” Like Mowgli’s, the story of Purun Bhagat, who was once Purun Dass and a knight of the British Empire, is a story of learning and transformation. But while Mowgli travels from the natural world to that of human society, Purun Bhagat advances in the opposite direction, from civilization back to nature, to a state in which he can converse with the animals and be not against, not above, but in the world.
    As a British subject, Kipling certainly endorsed the tenets of Victorian society and of the industrial revolution, but as a writer, something in him believed in forces more powerful and truer than mere civilization. In all his stories, from
Plain Tales of the Hills
and the
Jungle Books
to the dark and complex masterpieces of his old age, Kipling acknowledged our daily struggle to survive, the pain and suffering that everyone endures at some time or another, from childhood to old age, the violence of amorous passion, the madness of war, the despair of doubt and incomprehension. But, at the same time, in stories such as that of Purun Bhagat, Kipling showed that he also knew how, in spite of all that turmoil, the world can be a good place, and, if the stars are kind, human beings can lead good lives and do good things.
    Â 
    â€”Alberto Manguel

BOOK I

PREFACE TO BOOK I
    T HE demands made by a work of this nature upon the generosity of specialists are very