Kim is a book I can’t help but read again and again. Rudyard Kipling’s portrait of colonial India at the turn of the 20^th century is an up close look at a world that has  been forgotten. This story manages to capture the reader and doesn’t let go. It is a book that delves into topics such as identity, faith, intelligence work, but most of all life itself. The harrowing tale that combines Buddhism, spies, culture, language, trade, identity, and empire. No better fiction exists that shows The Great Game, between England and Russia, in all its glory. This book is an education in and of itself, but more so it is fascinating. The adventures of young Kimball O’Hara (Kim), the orphan son of an Irish sergeant in the city of Lahore, are peculiar but enviable. Kim known throughout as the “Friend of all the World” for his friendship and knowledge of the people and cultures of India is as much Easterner as Westerner. This dichotomy fuels much of the story.

It is hard to say what this story is about, because it is quite possibly about everything and nothing. This adventure is about life in all of its colors garish, pretty, and dull. It is of affection and emotions unimaginable to many today. When Kim is following the travels of a wandering Buddhist Llama on the search for nirvana in the waters of the “River of the Arrow.” Learning the spy game from Lurgan Sahib, a spymaster of highest respects. Trading horses and spying with Mahbub Ali, the greatest horse trader in all of India. Or catching Russian spies in the hills of the Himalayas with the fearful Babu Hurree. Kipling portrays a world so vibrant and real the reader is transported to the road alongside Kim.

Throughout this novel, Kim is shown to confound others with his identity, as no man is able to place him in a box. He may be an Englishman, sahib, by blood. However, he fits in just as easily with Hindus, Buddhists, Muslims, low caste, high caste, no caste, and more:

“Therefore, in one situate as thou art, it particulary behoves thee to remember this with both kinds of faces. Among Sahibs, never forgetting thou art a Sahib; among the folk of the Hind, always remembering thou are—“ he (Mahbub) paused, with a puzzled smile. “What am I? Mussalman, Hindu, Jain, or Buddhist? That is a hard nut.”

This difficult identity of neither East nor West, or any other easy classification makes Kim the ultimate canvas. To make a spy in the Great Game, to embrace the words of an enlightened Buddhist monk or walk with Queens on the roads of India.

It is easy for Westerners now to claim an understanding of Buddhism with the Dalai Llama a well-known celebrity. However, without the imagery and teachings Kipling shared with us through Teshoo Llama we would be at a loss. In this short adventure we are shown all of the tenets of this “Middle Way” and given an appreciation most do not have of their own religions. But this is not the only religion the reader is given an education on; Hinduism, Islam, Jainism, and Christianity (both Church of England and Catholicism) are explored through the lens of India into a vivid image that finds truth in all. As Mahbub Ali says,

The wise man knows horses are good—that there is profit to be made from all; and for myself—but that I am a good Sunni and hate the men of Tirah—I could believe the same of all faiths. Now manifestly a Kattiawar mare taken from the sands of her birthplace and removed to the west of Bengal founders—nor is even a Balkh stallion (and there are no better horses than those of Balkh, were they not so heavy in the shoulder) of any account in the great Northern deserts beside the snow-camels I have seen. Therefore I say in my heart the Faiths are like horses. Each has merit in its own country.

If one would like to learn about the intricacies of the spy game in India, and probably the whole world, Kim is the book to read. The Play of Jewels, now known as Kim’s game, is a game of memory designed to challenge even the strongest of intellects. It should be used by all spy agencies to this day (and probably is.) This game teaches one to take pictures with the mind of the things they have seen in an instant and recall them with stunning specificity. It is a game I would like to practice and get better at myself. In addition, Lurgan Sahib, the spymaster, teaches Kim the skills of observation, disguise, and culture; tests him with suggestion (hypnosis,) and dressing-up. This book looks at the skills of the spy with such rigor that Allen Dulles purportedly skimmed through the book most nights. If the book is good enough for the Director of the CIA, it’s good enough for me.

Where Kipling, and more specifically Kim really thrive though is in the travels along the roads of India, from the Plains to the Hills. Here the reader is given such a beautiful analysis of the varied peoples and landscapes that the sights, sounds, and smells creep into the world with such gaiety that one yearns to join him on the road (even the frigid and steep hills of the Himalayas.)

What this story is really about doesn’t matter. The symbolism, characters, adventures and vivid landscapes make this a book well worth reading even if it were not a historical treasure. Yet it is a masterpiece that better illuminates the beautiful land of colonial India than any book that came before or after. Not a word is wasted, nor a scene unseen. I greedily wish Kipling had written more of this adventure, but it is pure and final in its form.

This book makes me yearn for adventures of all sorts, it reminds me to treat every person with respect and know they have something for me to learn. I have found clarity towards the infinite differences of peoples and religions, and respect all of them for what they are. The journey will hopefully be long, and the lessons learned important. I go forth knowing that , “We be all on one lead-rope…”

Kim