Sir Vidia's Shadow: A Friendship Across Five Continents [Paperback]

Certainly it is fine writing, excellent characterization, evocative descriptions, and, of course, it is mesmerizing when two top writers have problems and then have a falling out.

Many years ago, a friend did some things I found out about through another friend and, when I confronted him, I eventually started getting some weird letters from his Filipina wife totally distorting all that had gone on between her husband and myself. This is not quite the same thing as what happened with Paul Thereoux but I have been on the receiving end of strange letters from someone who has been schooled but not educated, and someone both immature and insecure who wanted to change the past before closing the door. I think Theroux was both dismayed and hurt by the fax he received which also did this.

In a way, Paul Theroux was betrayed twice. Once by his friend Naipaul and once by his friend allowing - apparently without objection - his new wife to put her spin on the past and to clean house, including Paul. It seems to me that the only sin of Paul Theroux was his naivete. When you deal with the type of person Naipaul is, you should know he is capable of cruelty as well as egocentric behavior.

Paul Theroux wrote this book out of the pain of betrayal but kept it literary and honest. I am pleased this book was written. Absolutely fascinating.

Dean Barrett

"Sir Vidia's Shadow" has been widely criticized for being petty and revengeful. Unexpectedly though, it is not. In a very Naipaulian way, Paul Theroux turns his feelings for Naipaul and his sense of loss into detailed description, and in this imitation of Naipaul's style the book is much more a tribute to Naipaul than a work of slander.

"Sir Vidia's Shadow" is at its best when Paul Theroux balances the human weaknesses of Naipaul with his strengths as a writer. For example, when he reminisces, "I was a young man in Africa, trying to make my life. He was one of the strangest men I had ever met, and absolutely the most difficult. He was almost unlovable. He was contradictory, he quizzed me incessantly, he challenged everything I said, he demanded attention, he could be petty, he uttered heresies about Africa, he fussed, he mocked, he made his innocent wife cry, he had impossible standards, he was self-important, he was obsessive on the subject of his health. He hated children, music, and dogs. But he was also brilliant, and passionate in his convictions, and to be with him, as a friend or fellow writer, I had always to be at my best."

The book is at its worst when Thoreaux tries to analyze Naipaul: "I also saw that the man who dislikes children and doesn't have any of his own is probably himself childish, and sees other children as a threat. Vidia was the neediest person I have ever known. He fretted incessantly, couldn't cook, never cleaned, wouldn't drive, demanded help, had to be the center of attention."

Naipaul comes across as a passionate, dedicated, inspiring, demanding, meticulous, wide-awake, self-confident writer; but also as an often opinionated, fastidious, haughty, dogmatic, self-important, pompous, stingy, snobbish, garrulous, cruel, misogynistic, pampered, blunt, insensitive, angry, intolerant, mean man.

"Sir Vidia's Shadow" is well-written, entertaining, and contains some prime examples of Naipaulian political incorrectness ('To me, one of the ugliest sights on earth is a pregnant woman') and humor ("He said he had once received a letter from Penguin Books addressed to 'V.S.Naipull.' It was from a man named Anthony Mott. Vidia replied, typing on the envelope, 'To A Mutt,' and began his letter, 'Dear Mr. Mutt ...'"). My favorite Naipaulian provocation, however, is his claim "that book reviews served their purpose but had no lasting value, except for the jokes."

Theroux meets Naipaul in Uganda in 1966. Over the next 30 years, they remain friends through wide distances, triumphs and failures, divorces and deaths. Naipaul emerges as an extraordinarily compelling character. Perceptive, brilliant, egocentric and obsessed with writing, he abuses and uses his friends, family and professional acquaintances. He is also generous, needy and sometimes kind. What we end up with is a portrait of a supremely gifted but infantile man who is a fascinating but sometimes repugnant human being. Theroux is brutally honest not just about Naipaul's faults, but his finer qualities. He uses that same objectivity towards himself as well. In the end, "Sir Vidia's Shadow" betrays Theroux's hurt feelings after Naipaul terminates their relationship following his second marriage; it does not display meanspiritedness.

This superb memoir is a gripping read, from the first page to the last. The story it has to tell is well worth reading, and Theroux writes beautifully (as ever). All in all, I highly recommend "Sir Vidia's Shadow."