Sometime in the late 90s Sir Vidia declared that the novel as we know it is dead. It has been supplanted by other forms of entertainment. And soon after he comes out with ‘Half a Life’. As someone who has admired his works. I was swept by the grace and simple beauty of ‘A House for Mr Biswas’. I was overwhelmed by the journey that I undertook with him in Among the believer and Beyond Belief. The Indian trilogy has shocked and enlightened me in equal measure. I did provide me with an alternative way of viewing at my people. And so when Sir Vidia after declaring the death of the novel brings out Half a life (at 228 pages it is not onerous), I was intrigued. Half a life evokes among other things the conflicting identities of the colonised people.Willie Chandran, the protagonist, is born out of an unusual wedlock between a high caste father and a low caste mother. Half a Life charts his journey of reinvention upon reinvention in quest of a life that he so strongly desires. This takes him from post colonial India to England, Portuguese outpost in Africa and finally to an empty life inGermany. Willie’s constant struggle to deny his true self and give himself new selves is never fully successful. In the end with a failed marriage behind him, Willie ends up in Germany with his sister who herself has been on a similar quest. The story at its core is evocative. But it never seems to be rooted anywhere. Willie Chandran is from India. But he leaves it at that. Names – of places and languages – give a solid anchor to a story. There give a sense of connection or empathy for the reader. Sadly Naipaul never gives us that. The following quotes prove this. Wilie’s father says, “My grandfather knew no English. He knew Hindi and the language of his region.” And while describing a visit to his half brother-in-law in the un-named African Portugal colony, Willie says, “Without looking at Ana he talked to her in a kind of mixed local language which was not easy for me to follow. She replied in the same language.” Naipaul never fully succeeds in evoking sympathy for Willie. The ideas of conflicting identities are not fully explored. The quaint style of writing instead of adding charm to the tale only seems to hamper it. But Sir Vidia being Sir Vidia does succeed in giving us his insight into a few things rather sardonically. About sex and Indian attitudes to it Naipaul, obviously through his character Willie, is rather blunt. “The trouble is that I don’t know how to go out and get a girl on my own. No one trained me in that. I don’t know how to make a pass at a stranger, when to touch a girl or hold her hand or try to kiss her. When my father told me his life story and talked about his sexual incompetence I mocked him. I was a child then. Now I discover I am like my poor father. All men should train their sons in the art of seduction. But in our culture there is no seduction. Our marriages are arranged. There is no art of sex. Some of the boys here talk to me about Kama Sutra. Nobody talked to me about that at home. It was a upper-caste text, but I don’t believe my poor father, Brahmin though he is, ever looked at a copy. That philosophical, practical way of dealing with sex belongs to our past, and that world was ravaged and destroyed by the Muslims. Now we live like incestuous little animals in a hole. We grope all our female relations and are always full of shame. Nobody talked about sex and seduction at home, but I discover now that it is the fundamental skill all men should be trained in.”This is something that is so very true. And later, “Sex comes to us in different ways; it alters us; and I suppose in the end we carry the nature of our experience on our faces.” I fully agree Sir Vidia. These words more than make up for the shortcomings of the larger story. After having declared that the novel is dead, Naipaul has brought out two novels (Half a life and Magic Seeds). Sir Vidia, we don't mind it. We are rather thrilled! As for Half a Life. I cannot quite make up my mind. I found it half baked. Yet I was not disappointed. And well there were a few gems in the book that more than made my day. (I haven't yet read Magic Seeds. I will be putting a review as soon as I have read it)
I know VS Naipaul is one of the most highly regarded authors of the 20th century and that he won a Nobel Prize for literature. I had read his book, "A Bend in the River", also about Colonial Africa and found it extraordinary and memorable.... This one even more so.This is a deeply affecting, fictional (apparently semi-autobiographical) narrative about an Indian man who cannot find himself. Having been raised in the conflicted world of a hindu father who intentionally wed a very very low caste woman, just to throw spite on his social status. The father then, absolutely loathing this 'piece of the gutter' he has married to belittle his our person (this is the pervasive attitude he conveys) totally and utterly belittles and disregards her throughout his children's lives. This leaves his son without any clear sense of worth - of his father, of himself, of his sister. His mother has no worth. Period. It is a devastating family identity. (this woman, his wife is so lowly regarded that even the most destitute and dire of the poor - the man who gives water to the elementary students in a tin cup, is so revolted by her low caste that he refuses to give her any water.)As a young man, the boy goes off to school in England and searches for self-meaning. He ends up in an unnamed Portuguese Colonial in east Africa, married to another 'half-caste' as t'were.... This is an aspect of Colonial Africa I have never before visited, in any way. And I found it very fascinating.It is a deeply hypocritical world, this colonialism, and the post-colonialism from which he comes. He observes and feels the contradictions and conflicts in those around him and in himself. Never fully able to feel connected with Ana or himself, he concludes he is living the life of another.... a life that does not belong to him.I believe this is an inner conflict and outer reality that many displaced persons in this world must feel: always somehow at loose ends, never quite 'belonging' - in ones own mind or in the minds of those around you but about you, never fully at ease, never fully comfortable.... never 'home'. A compelling and difficult world to inhabit, I imagine.I can understand why Naipaul won the Nobel Prize..... He is an amazingly powerful writer.
Do You like book Half A Life (2009)?
Quite unremarkable. I haven’t read anything else by Naipaul, and I probably won’t. I know I shouldn’t generalize from reading one book, but I do anyway. Methinks Naipaul is another mediocre Nobel laureate. (Jelinek and Mahfouz are the other examples that come immediately to my mind.) The protagonist is insufferably unlikable, boring, and passive. (At least Jelinek has a sick imagination and manages to make you hate her monstrous characters.) As for the writing – honestly, I think you’ll find better examples of writing in any creative writing class.
—Jafar
This is an unusual novel. There's no actual plot; instead, the story follows a man through his restless, aimless life. I know this doesn't sound very compelling, but it is--his desire for more--to figure out where he belongs and what he should be doing to create meaning in his life--is crushing. SPOILER!The structure cleverly echoes this vacancy. After following the character closely for 120 pages, you suddenly encounter this terrifying line: "He stayed for eighteen years." And then the narrative picks up at the end of the eighteen years. There is this enormous hole in the center of the story--which very effectively gave me a sense of hollowness. Eventually, those eighteen years are somewhat filled out, but never to the point where you feel this character has had a satisfying life. He ends up as an exile three times over, distant from everything, unmotivated but restless, still young but crippled physically and mentally, and totally dependent. He's had, indeed, only half a life.
—Rebecca
I read this novel as the search for and acceptance of the essence of one's true identity. This is a quest upon which Naipaul himself, no doubt, embarked, after his birth in Trinidad, education in England at Oxford, and life in Africa. The challenge of his protagonist is, having been born a "backwards", to understand and accept his real essence as a human being. He tends to approach this existential task by entangling himself in the lives of other people only to find that their lives bring him no closer to the truth about himself. He discovers that he cannot to his own self be true simply by living the lives of others. The characters, setting and imagery in Half a Life are memorable and the narration enjoys a frankness that engenders respect. While this is a very fine work by V.S. Naipaul, it suffers somewhat by comparison to A House for Mr. Biswas, which is a truly brilliant novel. What does one do for an encore after one writes a real masterpiece? If you haven't read it yet, you may want to try it first. All the acclaim of Naipaul is justified: he can really write and Mr. Biswas is hands-down his finest work. I recommend that you go for Mr. Biswas and then, if you like it, circle back to worthy but somewhat less daunting works like Half a Life -- unless you prefer a toe-in-the-water approach with this Nobel Prize winner. One really can't go wrong with V.S. Naipaul except not to read him.
—David Lentz
