VS Naipaul
VS Naipaul is dead. Another from that generation gone. Of course, time waits for no human, but loss to the literary world stands as is. Still, VSN seemed to be more famous, of late, for his pronouncements, which tested the resolve of anyone adhering to the ideology of “trust the tale, not the teller”.
I’m not sure I was all that great a fan of his work. I read Bend in the River when I was young. I suppose I appreciated it for telling a story that seemed familiar to me, a man who straddled far too many worlds than possible. But there was something in it that I hated. Something that looked far too superficial. My grandmother hated the book and though she was more pro-assimilation than I am nowadays (assuming we even have a definition of this), she said out loud: “no wonder Africans got tired of us. We acted like Europeans.”
But just because a book evokes strong emotions doesn’t mean it’s not worth reading. For me, Bend in the River was merely pedestrian. Bold words from a writer with far fewer accolades than Mr. Naipaul — and as usual I could be accused of jealousy — but this really isn’t such a case. No, it really felt like it wasn’t deep enough. [1]
I never read his Mr Biswas, though I have it on my bookshelf. I do have his essays (definitely worth a read), and they certainly show his skill in turning a phrase… in observing. His points on India and its inhabitants in “In the Middle of the Journey” are spot on. So too are his points on the need for its people to defeat the colonial mentality that infects their minds.
But reading something like “Our Universal Civilization” makes me feel like those powers of observation don’t add up to much [2]. There are some great points. Great subtle sharp points. And I found myself nodding. Yet at the end, there’s something like a conclusion (I would say failure to piece together all the observations) that’s Islamophobic and hardly useful to anyone.
Is this refutation of “trust the tale, not the teller”?
We see it a lot nowadays, though I think it’s not without merit, and only those without context will outright mock it [3]. But with VSN, we see him remembered for his comment on Austen, or other misogynistic or even racist remarks.
RIP Mr. Naipaul.
[1] And now as I write it, I wonder if some of my own works are too weak. Perhaps not brave enough. Almost every book, every essay I’ve written has required a discovery that causes me to slay a god in my pantheon, in my history, in me. No easy task, this. But I do it because that’s where the story and the thoughts go. It’s not easy. I sometimes tremble knowing the powers I go up against, but I do it nonetheless. But there is something that holds me back and I wonder if I have held back too much, become superficial…. What say you, dear reader?
[2] And again, I think on something like this and turn it upon myself: am I sharp and incisive yet filled with so many biases (or fears of said gods) that all of that may amount to nothing.
[3] Not going to get into it here, but censorship in its many forms (by powers, by gatekeepers) has always been around. To deny this is to deny reality. That a modicum of it has been aimed at those who are still in power is the least of our problems nowadays.
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Originally published at nelsonlowhim.blogspot.com on August 13, 2018.
