Alisa Myagchenkova Myagchenkova từ 32786 Bretelo, Ourense, Tây Ban Nha
Naipaul is ultimately more cynical and derisive than he is revealing, and this book is a prime example. At best, there some kind of enchantment you experience when he lines the words up just right, but more often you wonder why he bothers at all since everything is so screwed. Perhaps my discontent with this work has to do with my understanding of (or hope for) the human condition. This book allows little of that really, except for the peculiar speech included at the end where he weighs in on the "universal civilization" as it deems it, while never truly defining it. My interpretation is that this is 'Western civilisation' in its most tolerant of manifestations. What a wholly unsatisfying addendum, which raise more questions about the author's loyalty to American and British publishers, that it answers or postulates about just about anything. I suppose it doesn't help that in person he happens to be supremely disagreeable and arrogant and apparently believes that his work, as with all literature is "not for children" as he informed an initially eager audience of high-school students during a recent visit to his homeland, Trinidad and Tobago.