Naipaul: Master of the Essay...

Naipaul is a master of the essay form. So far, "Jasmine" and "Synthesis and Mimicry" and "A New King for the Congo" are examples of a writer's master talent to keep one reading and engaged. In "Jasmine," Naipaul regards the seeming inability for non-Western cultures to embrace and understand a literature that is foreign to them. This, interestingly enough, doesn't seem to be the case the other way around. Take literature from developing countries, say, Latin America, and bring it to the language of the dominant culture, and that literature is almost always embraced and understood by the dominant culture. For example, Garcia Marquez' "One Hundred Years of Solitude" was regarded by "The New York Times" as "required reading for the entire human race." I don't challenge Naipaul's premise, but the truth is that 20th Century Latin American literature took the world by storm when it began to be translated into other languages which were, incidentally, alien to the actual experience of the story.

In "Synthesis and Mimicry," Naipaul examines the ways that India has lost its identity by embracing Western attitudes. This involves everything from industrial development to educational institutions, traditional art and traditional literature, and even architecture. He states that

"In the nineteenth century, with the coming of the British, this great tradition [traditional Indian art] died.... nothing is sadder, in the recent history of Indian culture, than to see Indian painting, in its various schools, declining into East India Company art, tourist art."

This essay is not a condemnation of Indian culture as it is rather a contemplation at the loss of things that irrevocably cannot be brought back. In "A New King for the Congo," Naipaul writes beautifully about a difficult topic. The history of Mobutu and that of Zaire (former Congo) is tragic and difficult to portray unbiasly. Naipaul goes on to debunk many of the formerly held fantasies as to how Conrad traveled the Congo. Most of the Congo was already an established Belgian colony by the time Conrad got there, so "Heart of Darkness" lacks substance if you really look at it--at least, that's what Naipaul is getting at. The critical and desperate condition of politics in Zaire are brought to light and the display is sadder than any of us could conceive. Naipaul states that "an African nihilism" has developed in the country where "the rage of primitive men coming to themselves and finding that they have been fooled and affronted" only creates generation after generation of hopelessness and abuse. I am not finish yet but I have fewer pages than I realized. I might be done with the volume tomorrow.

V.S. Naipaul's "Jasmine"

There's no way I could spoil the end of this wonderful essay for you because I am yet to finish it myself. This is that kind of essay that you wish it would never end. The question of the narrator is whether or not English as a language can convey the beauty of the world. There are some fine passages:

The writer was protesting against what the English language had imposed on us. The language was ours, to use as we pleased. The literature that came with it was therefore of peculiar authority; but this literature was like an ancient mythology. There was, for instance, Wordsworth's notorious poem about the daffodil. A pretty little flower, no doubt; but we had never seen it. Could the poem have any meaning for us?

I suppose this is the plight of most of what I learned in graduate school as "colonial language imposed on the colonized peoples." The narrator takes on the stories of Dickens, Conrad, and other masters of literature and transport the same stories to settings in Trinidad where he is a correspondent for the BBC Caribbean bureau. The previous story, a selection from "A House for Mr. Biswas" was enthralling in its own merit. I wonder where I could find a copy of the novel and read it in its entirety. I will comment more on "Jasmine" when I finish reading it. I have some 50-something examinations to grade between tonight and tomorrow night. If I don't post anything by then, I hope to be excused by you.

V.S. Naipaul...

I picked up "Vintage Naipaul" as a way of introduction to this prolific writer. I have "The Writer and the World" on my stack of books to read but I will probably won't get to it until next year. So, I retract to the world of fiction again after my most intense clash with philosophy since my undergrad days. I am conceding that the streak of philosophy hit me hard.

Some of the selections in "Vintage Naipaul" include "A House for Mr. Biswas" which I am totally devouring at the present, and is one of the most perfectly crafted pieces of fiction I have read this year. There are some fine passages here about Biswas' emotional state, and the pressures to provide for his family, etc. This story reminds me of my father and the crisis of 1979 (a family secret).

Here's a list of other titles awaiting inclusion. Have you read any of these, please leave a comment telling me about it.

The Dream Life of Sukhanov, by Olga Grushin
The Double, by Jose Saramago
A Heartbreaking Work of a Staggering Genius, by Dave Eggers
What I loved, by Siri Hustvedt
Glory, by Vladimir Nabokov
Vineland, by Thomas Pynchon

These are not presently on my reading list but I want to motivate myself and see if I can get to them this year.