Chiggers
Journey to the End of the NightChiggers are burrowing parasites that recur in the account of colonial life as an intimate, practical affliction: they lodge in the soles of the feet and must be dug out. Their removal is treated as routine work, revealing how bodily discomfort is managed within makeshift households—and how colonial privilege shapes who performs that care.
Physical Presence and Treatment
In Topo, Grappa’s housekeeper is praised for knowing how to dig Chiggers from the soles of a person’s feet. The detail appears alongside her knowledge of administering quinine in jam, placing the pests within a broader repertoire of everyday care adapted to the local conditions. Their presence makes the body’s vulnerability concrete: even a minor parasite requires attention, skill, and another person’s labor.
Domestic Labor in the Forest
At the forest cabin, Alcide has assembled an elaborate domestic staff despite living in extreme destitution. The young boys in his household compete to bring him its single spoon or prized cup, and they also remove Chiggers from his feet with practiced skill. Their service illustrates the peculiar scale of this domestic world: scarce possessions are treated as treasures, while intimate bodily care is incorporated into the household’s ordinary routines.
Colonial Relations and Narrative Function
The two scenes associate Chiggers with colonial dependence, but they do so through sharply different households: Grappa’s housekeeper and Alcide’s boys both possess the practical skill to extract them. The parasite is not developed as an independent subject; instead, the attention given to its removal exposes the human arrangements built around bodily discomfort. The small, repetitive task also punctures any image of colonial life as comfortably civilized, grounding it in physical irritation and unequal service.