The Writing Life:
Paul Theroux on V.S. Naipaul

November 19, 2006

After reading a lot from any author I start to get a certain itch: I want to know something about the author's life. Often this leads me to pick up a biography, but in this case I came across something better: Paul Theroux's memoir of his friendship with V.S. Naipaul, known to friends as Vidia. The book was more than merely insightful concerning its main character; it was a reminder to me about the writing life and its demands.. but more on that at the end.

This narrative of a friendship is propelled by interesting stories about Naipaul. One of my favorites came at the beginning of their friendship when they met in Africa (back in the 60s). Naipaul was connected for a short time to a university in Uganda, and is there called on to judge a literary competition. Having reviewed the entries he insisted that there be no first or second prize, but only a third prize.. because the entries were so bad!

Much later there is the time when Theroux visits Naipaul at his new home, and is shown a garden in which all colors except green have been banished.. and, in addition, there is little in the way of grass. Naipaul explains:

I have a theory that it is exhausting for anyone to look at a large expanse of lawn. The viewer becomes tired reflecting on the effort that goes into cutting all that grass. A lawn is not restful to look at. A lawn represents great labor and noise, hours of rackety lawn mowers. A lawn is exhausting. [232]

Theroux, unknowingly, had brought Naipaul a red maple as a gift!

You can call Naipaul an eccentric or a crank.. it will depend on your patience for his kind of character. But he is certainly unique, no matter how you judge him. Theroux recalls meeting Naipaul for lunch at an Indian restaurant:

I was, as always, eager to see him. I needed to know what was on his mind, because he questioned everything, took nothing on faith, saw things differently from anyone else. His talk was unexpected and original. He was contrary and he was often right. [264]

I read that and thought: that is someone with whom I would like to talk. Naipaul is the antithesis of the creative writer weaned in a writing program, and taught to mimic standard artistic judgments.

For all my admiration for his work.. and even forgiveness for an arrogance that was in many ways a condition for his being able to write ambitiously.. despite that, I realized that Naipaul is hardly someone I would get along with. I could not quite imagine myself going out of my way for a personal meeting. This would be no friend.. but that is my typical response to a biography of a writer.

The book also told the story of what it means to trust oneself.. and to begin a life as a writer. There is an audacity there. How a young man like Naipaul, arriving in England from Trinidad, ever began to imagine a life as a creative writer is a mystery. Something of that necessary self-confident audacity seems to have rubbed off on Paul Theroux. It is a leap of faith.. every bit as scary as some spiritual leap. It is like walking out onto the air. It is like standing on a rock and hoping for the sea to part.

A couple of paragraphs give a view of how this transference of confidence could take place:

That was his greatest strength, his unwavering belief that writing was fair—that a good book cannot fail, that it will ultimately be recognized as good; that a bad book will eventually be seen as junk, no matter what happens in the short run. Only the long run mattered...

This belief was both armor and a sword, and by repetition he instilled this belief in me and made me strong. [188]

This book, Sir Vidia's Shadow, manages a similar transference of confidence.. demonstrating to the reader that a certain type of arrogance pays off: the type that allows one to set down on paper the world as one sees it. A certain amount of perseverance in that direction is bound to get results.