Sir Vidia's Shadow by Paul Theroux

Sir Vidia's Shadow: A Friendship Across Five Continents, Paul Theroux. New York: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2014, 2000, 1999, 1998. e book 372 pps.


     I was delighted to come across Sir Vidia's Shadow in e-book format. My [traumatic brain injury] visual and perceptual difficulties dictate the use of an e-reader these days. I am a fan of the writings of Paul Theroux. This particular book included travel but the focus was different. I enjoyed it immensely.

     Sir Vidia S. Naipaul is an English writer with ties to India who has lived in a bunch of places. Paul Theroux first encountered him in Africa where they became friends. V.S. Naipaul [as he is usually identified by those of us who only know him through his writing] saw the young man in Africa as a writer first before anyone else was wont to do so. Their adventures in Uganda evolved into letter-writing and meet-ups elsewhere through the years of their long-term friendship.

sapphoq reviews says: Paul Theroux has written an interesting account of V.S. Naipaul which provided for me a rare glimpse into a man who was at once secretive and ornery. Equally exciting to me was Paul Theroux's obvious evolution as a writer through the years. I expected to like Sir Vidia's Shadow because I love Paul Theroux's ability to impart both a sense of place and of being Other throughout his published work. I suspect that I myself would not have been able to tolerate V.S. Naipaul's quirks had I been offered his friendship, but Paul Theroux was able to and grew as a result. Highly recommended, especially to those who are fans of the writings of either man, fans of travel literature, and perhaps fans of psychological sorts of "case studies."

Hotel Honolulu by Paul Theroux

Hotel Honolulu, Paul Theroux. New York: Houghton Mifflin Company/ Mariner Books, 2001, 2002.  452 pps., e-book.

     Buddy owns an eighty-bed hotel and gives a howlie (non-Hawaiian, in this case also the narrator) a job managing it. Seems the other manager did things like bricking up the door of a guest's room when he didn't see eye-to-eye with the guest. So he had to go.

     The howlie-- whose name we never learn-- goes native and marries Sweetie. Sweetie is the daughter of the hotel resident prostitute. Sweetie and he have a brilliant child named Rose. The family lives in the hotel.

     Besides managing the hotel, the howlie reads Tolstoy. Buddy likes that his manager has written a book and does not hesitate to tell everyone that. The howlie's muse is on strike and nothing is forthcoming. Meanwhile, the howlie learns the backgrounds of many of the hotel's guests and divulges them in this fictional tale. 

     This review does not do justice to the book.

sapphoq reviews says: Paul Theroux is my favorite travel writer and I am finally getting around to reading more of his fiction. His ascorbic humor is evident in Hotel Honolulu. I liked this book. The rats dashing around the hallways, the drunks in the bar, and the beautiful Hawaiian weather made me want to visit the parts of Hawaii where tourists fear to tread. Hotel Honolulu is sort of an adult coming of age party. Outstanding and highly recommended to all fans of Paul Theroux. Those who require something different in their fiction will also like this book. 

Blinding Light by Paul Theroux

Blinding Light, Paul Theroux.  New York: Houghton Mifflin Company/ First Mariner Books, 2005, 2006.  e-book, 440 pps.



     Slade Steadman, an author who had written one bestseller a couple of decades ago and gotten rich off of a line of clothing and a movie and other spinoffs, had been unsuccessful in his endeavor to write a second book.  The editor wanted more of the same but he wasn't able to produce.  He and an ex-girlfriend took a [tourist trap sort of] trip to the Ecuadorian jungle to a remote village and the offering of an hallucinogenic drug.  The experience changes Slade and illuminates the foibles of others in a new light for him.  His writer's block dissolves and as a side benefit, he gets his ex-girlfriend back.  

sapphoq reviews says:  I especially enjoyed Paul Theroux's not so subtle poking at the insincerity involved in the travel industry-- the allure of exotic lands and strange experiences so that tourists would have a story to tell at parties.  Although Blinding Light was given to extensive interior monologues, these monologues added to the novel.  There are also many pages devoted to the recall of various sexual experiences which had partially defined Slade Steadman.  These are not to be missed.  Paul Theroux has proven his versatility in writing slow, steamy sex scenes.  I also liked the peripheral involvement of President Clinton and that various [actual life] authors were on the list of party invites.

     Fans of Paul Theroux's travelogues really ought to give his fiction a fair reading.  I loved Blinding Light!  A super book.  Highly recommended for fans of Theroux and for any mature adult who does not object to fiction which borders on the confessional.

The Last Train to Zona Verde by Paul Theroux

The Last Train to Zona Verde: My Ultimate African Safari, Paul Theroux.  New York: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2013.  e-book, 338 pps.

Paul Theroux travels from Capetown up through Namibia and Angola in this latest book.  I really like Theroux's writing because he ties history and literature into his travelogues.  The Last Train to Zona Verde also exemplifies the best of Paul Theroux-- a bit grouchy but amiable and clearly aging.  There are some intimations about age and the winding down that accompanies it.  I can only hope that he is wrong about this in his own case.  I want him [and Oliver Sacks and Cory Doctorow and Lawrence Lessig and Sir Terry Pratchett] to live on forever-- or at least several more decades.

Besides the gloominess of advancing age, there is the hopelessness of the urban sprawl.  The cities are not clean.  They are crime-ridden, hopeless, and poverty-stricken.  A few shantytowns have become respectable neighborhoods but that is the exception rather than the rule.  The small towns and cities are full of despair.  That much is clear from this account.

I knew in a general way that Angola was a bit torn up by wars.  I didn't realize to what extent until reading about Theroux's journey through it.  The government of Angola itself is rich.  Many of the citizens of Angola are poor.  There are schoolchildren in Angola who do not even have a pencil to write with.  Angola itself is rich with oil.  Angola is a case of the politicos getting rich off the backs of the common people.  

Zona Verde, green zone, is another word for the Bush.  Theroux gets to meet some San tribal people, hangs out with them, goes on a walk through the Bush with them, only to discover that he's been trolled.  The whole glimpse into traditional life of a tribal people thing is staged for tourists.  After discovering his folly, Theroux bravely asks a question that I would not have thought to ask, "Who says they or other tribal people necessarily want to continue to live in hardship of the old ways?"  Having to walk several miles daily for water certainly is far less convenient than having running water available either in one's home or in a communal building.

Also in the Bush, Theroux meets up with a friend of a friend who has an elaborate safari camp for rich people.  Folks pay 4000 dollars or more a day to spend nights in little cabins overlooking a local watering hole.  They get to ride African elephants [something that the natives never ever do] and eat fancy foods [something else that the natives never ever do].  I think myself, I'd rather head upriver in a canoe or raft with a guide and camp out at night than spend time in the lap of luxury at that rich peoples' safari.  The safari is owned by an outsider.  The profits are not benefiting any local people.  The elephants themselves are problematic.  There is a reason why African elephants are not ridden around by the natives.

The train rides and bus rides, once they get underway, are descriptive and made me long to be on the road again.  There's something to be said for taking local transportation and mingling with the locals.  The border crossing that Theroux describes really sucked.  So does the food available to him after hiring out a car [with several other passengers] to get somewhere that there was no buses or trains.  In the end, Theroux decides that it is time to go home.  African Bush is beautiful if trecherous.  Urban sprawl in Angola-- a place of no trees and few animals-- is indistinguishable from city to city.

sapphoq reviews says:  Paul Theroux's book The Last Train to Zona Verde is certainly worth a read by anyone who wants the real deal-- or as real a deal as a white privileged traveler can experience in foreign places-- about what traveling through parts of Africa is like.  If you are satisfied with standard template traveling fare, you really do owe it to yourself to read a real travel book such as the ones that Theroux writes.  Fans of Theroux of course will not be disappointed.  Absolutely highly recommended.    

The Pillars of Hercules by Paul Theroux

The Pillars of Hercules: A Grand Tour of the Mediterranean, Paul Theroux.  New York: Ballantine Books/ The Random House Publishing Group, 1995.  e-book, 491 pps.


I am a fan of Paul Theroux.  We have two things in common.  I love to travel and I love trains.  Theroux has logged many more miles than I have in many more places than I've been.  There is something to settling in on a comfy chair or beach towel with a Paul Theroux in hand and several hours devoted just to reading.  A few critics will tell you that Paul Theroux dares to criticize the people and places that he haps upon.  I myself much prefer his honesty to the sugar-coated guidebooks that always endeavor to organize narratives into grand unrealistic symphonies.  Because life isn't really like that.  There will always be petty people, rip-off artists, wars, squalor, and dirt.  Tucked away behind the glittering hotels and the slick brochures are glimpses into meanness.  Certainly, the tourists at Gibralter assaulting the primates there are forgetful that we all share a common ancestor.  There is a certain messiness to travel and for depicting the messes, I've become fond of Theroux's writing.

The Pillars of Hercules is about traveling in the Mediterranean.  I liked the grit.  It was refreshing to read about the litter on the beaches in the winter, the wastelands that are the souvenirs of wartime, and the crappy food on the Turkish cruise ship.  I also liked the way that Theroux painted the various fellow travelers that he happened upon along the way-- the Turks on that same ship making music, the fellow who worried that he would never find a woman to settle down with, the train passengers who might have been pleasant to spend time with or not so pleasant.  All of it engaged me.  

sapphoq reviews says:  If you like travel writing with a difference and you don't mind longish books, there is something in The Pillars of Hercules for you.  A bit of political commentary and a lot of literary references await you.  It was through Paul Theroux that I've discovered other great works of literature imbued with a sense of place.  The Pillars of Hercules is not for those who prefer their travel writing to be typical and devoid of the author's commentary.  Highly recommended for folks who enjoy some intellectual along with their travel narratives.   

A Dead Hand, by Paul Theroux

Paul Theroux, A Dead Hand. New York: Marina Books, 2010. paperback, 279 pps.

A Dead Hand, subtitled A Crime in Calcutta, is a work of fiction and a crime mystery by the great Paul Theroux. (He and Oliver Sachs are tops on my wish list of people to hang out with for a couple of hours drinking tea and talking about regular stuff). As always with Theroux's writings, a sense of place is omnipresent. The narrator is a man reluctant to leave Calcutta because of a mysterious woman. The woman, Mrs. Unger, is an American ex-pat with an orphanage, some knowledge of tantric sex and Kundalini, and a fetish for the blood of black goats. She also has a pair of quasi sons-- Charlie and Rajat. She is a wealthy philanthropist, but not after the fashion of Mother Theresa so it seems. Theroux inserts himself into the book by meeting the narrator and asking if he knows Mrs. Unger. The ending involves a cremation without rain.

This book should be required reading for any fluffy bunny who believes that Kali-Ma is a benevolent protector of women and fluffy bunnies.

sapphoq reviews says: Highly recommended for fans of Paul Theroux as well as for those who appreciate a sense of place.

The Happy Isles of Oceania by Paul Theroux

Paul Theroux, The Happy Isles of Oceania. New York: Mariner Books, 1992. Large Paperback, 528 pps.

I've been curious about the dots of land in the Pacific west of Hawaii ever since I read J. Maarten Troost' The Sex Lives of Cannibals. I was delighted to discover Paul Theroux' account of his trip through Meganesia, Melanesia, Polynesia, and Hawaii. As he paddled his kayak around nooks and harbors, Theroux frequently listened to c.d.s of various artists. He met locals and tourists, slept out under the stars and in slovenly motels, recorded local stories about cannibalism, cargo cults, and missionaries.

Theroux wanted to go to the island Tanna specifically because the Jon Frum cargo cult was flourishing there [N.B. and is to the present day]. The followers of Jon Frum believe that he will return in a future February in order to rescue them from the ministrations of the missionaries. On the day of his return, the rich white people will be forced to leave Tanna. The missionaries wanted to rescue the natives from such evils as cannibalism. The natives yearned for rescue from the missionaries.

The Happy Isles of Oceania was a fascinating in-depth account of many islands and peoples. The mention of related literature left me with a desire to seek some of it out, the cargo cults' description resulted in my own interet-related. the foibles of the misguided missionaries and the remark that humans tasted like pork had me laughing out loud. Folks who relish the dream of a tropical paradise will do well to read this account of traveling throughout the Pacific in a kayak.

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Ghost Train to the Eastern Star by Paul Theroux

Paul Theroux, Ghost Train to the Eastern Star. New York: Mariner Books, 2008. large paperback, 496 pps.

I've been engaged in reading as much Paul Theroux as I can get my hands on over the last several months and am now just pausing long enough to write the reviews. Ghost Train is the repeat of a trip which Theroux took as a younger man in The Great Railway Bazaar. He left from London (now on a second wife) and trained his way through to India (this time with a detour around Iraq, Iran, and Afghanistan), The Far East, Japan, and back via Russia. He also had to take an occasional bus and a couple of plane flights. Along the way, Theroux mixes with the local folks, stays in hostels and hotels, and reads. As in his other accounts of his travels, Theroux has a gift of mixing history of a place with literary works and stories told by people he meets along the way.

Theroux is quick to point out what has changed and what hasn't. Several Indian cities have become meccas for IT, manufacturing, and call centers. The call centers themselves I found interesting. The Indians who work there take on American sounding names and are tutored extensively so that they "sound" like native speakers rather than like Indians. Often it is a college graduate making less than 4000 U.S.D. a year providing customer/tech support India relies on cheap labour in order to be competitive. In India, Theroux comes across many people who dislike Bush 43 especially in relation to the war over in the Middle East. There is abject poverty in India also which he describes without romance or rancor. There are bits also about Buddhism, Islam, and Hinduism. There are riots and bombing in Ceylon. Over in Thailand, there is a movement among fundamentalist Moslems to establish their own country in the south. Everyone certainly seems to be fighting these days, that is for sure.

Theroux also recounts bits of history while he is visiting Myanmer (Burma), Cambodia, and Vietnam. The behind-the-scenes decisions of politicians (Bush 43, Nixon in particular) were a fascinating glimpse into some of the background behind military actions. He describes in detail his tour of the killing fields, the genocide commited upon the orders of Pol Pot and exactly who helped that corrupt murderer to attain and stay in power. India, China, and Russia all continue to support Pol Pot (each for their own reasons). Theroux also talks about Vietnam and how the Viennese are faring these days. Although he leaves out the prison terms being bantered around for such offenses as e-mailing a relative in the U.S.A. from an internet cafe, he does address the war in Vietnam quite well.

There are throngs of people in the larger cities in Japan. Theroux takes some time there to go cross country skiing in the less populated north and to enjoy the use of two bathhouses before setting off for a final train trek through Siberia and China back through Poland and Germany to England. On the trains themselves, berths (sleeping compartments) are almost always shared and food bought at train stations from the locals is usually safer than what is offered in the dining cars. There is a bit of reflection in this book not present in his earlier journey across Asia. I enjoyed in particular Theroux's musings on invisibility and ageing.

sapphoq reviews says: This book comes highly recommended to the armchair traveler who likes a true sense of place along with an interweaving of history and a sprinkling of literature.