Mapping imperialism | Deepa Anappara on her new novel The Last of Earth

Explore Deepa Anappara's novel, The Last of Earth, as she critiques imperialism and redefines exploration through diverse narratives.

In her sweeping historical novel, The Last of Earth (published by Penguin), set in late 19th century British India, former journalist Deepa Anappara weaves a dual narrative of friendship and imperial ambition. The story follows Balram, an Indian schoolteacher engaged as a surveyor-spy by a British officer who embarks on a perilous expedition into Tibet after its borders have been closed to Europeans. “It’s in the nature of white men to believe they own the world, that no door should be shut to them,” Balram recalls his father telling him when he was a boy.

Also on a mission to open doors, though for different reasons, is Katherine, a 50-year-old explorer in disguise. As their paths cross on the Himalayan mountain passes and true identities and intentions come to light, the novel reflects on the uneasy partnership between coloniser and colonised. “I was interested in looking at who is considered an explorer and who becomes a coolie,” says London-based Anappara, whose debut novel, Djinn Patrol on the Purple Line, was longlisted for the Women’s Prize for Fiction 2020. Edited excerpts from an interview:

What inspired the historical setting of ‘The Last of Earth’?

Answer: In 2009, I came across an Englishman’s account of travelling through Tibet in the 19th century, where he referred to his two Indian “manservants” as loyal and faithful and credited them with saving his life but in the same breath spoke about whipping them as a necessary corrective to teach them to behave appropriately. I became interested in the power dynamic between the coloniser and the colonised, away from the setting of imperial power, in a region like Tibet, which can be harsh to an outsider. I was also interested in looking at who is considered an explorer and who becomes a coolie. For instance, in this particular account, it was clear that the Englishman saw himself as an explorer while his bearers were just that, despite the fact that they were walking across the same landscape that he was. 

Traditionally, the exploration novel is seen as the domain of white men, and I wanted to subvert the tropes of that genre to examine how exploration and cartography can be tools of imperialism. 

This 1812 painting by British soldier Hyder Young Hearsey shows him and fellow explorer William Moorcroft disguised as Indian holy men (left) on yaks, travelling in Tibet. | Photo Credit: Werner Forman Archive