Two of my favourite films involve people suddenly finding themselves operating in unaccustomed milieus: Harrison Ford in ‘Witness’ as the city detective sent to an Amish community to investigate a murder, and Peter Riegert in ‘Local Hero’ as a Texas oil man despatched on a secret mission to a remote Scottish crofting community. One of the joys of both lies in watching the incomer flounder in a foreign environment and then, slowly, begin to function and to appreciate what he has found – if not enough to stay there.
I loved writing ‘Black Mongoose’ primarily because it’s a fast-moving adventure story, and because, as in the two films, its hero, having set out to enjoy a tourist holiday, sees everything fall apart, spectacularly, in an unfamiliar place and amongst strangers. Johnny Strowger associates with people he would otherwise never have met, he experiences the grim realities of their day-to-day existence, he even does a little to help improve their circumstances.
If there’s a huge contrast between, say, Harrison Ford’s city life and the rural existence of the Amish, there’s a gulf between the England that Johnny comes from and a failing, third-world state like USuzwe. And that’s why I had so much fun writing ‘Black Mongoose’, because I was able, in a James Bond way, to drag in all sorts of truly African horrors to throw at my poor hero.
I say ‘fun’, but there were moments when I found myself shocked. In writing the novel and developing the accompanying website, I did more research than I have for any other book I’ve written. I already appreciated that, for many citizens in countries like Kenya and Zimbabwe, life is dreadfully hard, but what I found unacceptable is that so many brutalities continue to be perpetrated on women, children and defenceless minority groups. The photograph, courtesy of Sandra Crouse Quinn, University of Pittsburgh, of a billboard in Zambia showing a young, abused girl, not only illustrates the point but suggests how widespread this particular wicked misconception must be.
Jon

I think a classic example of what you're talking about here (the hero having to adjust to unaccustomed surroundings) is Straw Dogs, the 1971 Sam Peckinpah film. Take a meek little American mathematician, throw him into a typical English village, and look out :)
Posted by: Ray Gregory | 09 May 2009 at 07:16 PM
Agree with you, Ray - though it's years since I saw the film. Am a great fan of Sam Pekinpah, my favourite, perhaps because I've always enjoyed Bob Dylan's music, is 'Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid'.
But it's a great trick to use as it immediately creates tension and, potentially, misunderstanding.
Posted by: Jon Haylett | 12 May 2009 at 02:33 PM