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Willie Chandran #1
賳氐賮 丨賷丕丞
Half a Life finds the veteran Booker and Nobel Prize-winning author V.S. Naipaul on familiar territory, blending autobiography and fiction in an exploration of the "half lives" of individuals brought up in the English colonies and educated in metropolitan cities.
Naipaul's protagonist is Willie Somerset Chandran, named after Somerset Maugham's encounter with Willie's father in the 1930s while traveling "to get material for a novel about spirituality." Willie travels to England for his education, where he becomes "part of the special, passing bohemian-immigrant life of London of the late 1950s." Willie soon realizes that his colonial background allows him to write short stories for well-meaning white liberals, and he begins "to understand that he was free to present himself as he wished" and that he could "remake himself and his past" through his writing. The effect is suffocating rather than liberating, and he marries a vaguely sketched "girl or young woman from an African country," who has read his one published book. Willie begins another "half life" in colonial Mozambique, where he soon tires of the domestic and sexual tedium of plantation life and flees to Germany, mournfully reflecting that "I have been hiding for too long."
This is classic Naipaul, with its effortless dissection of the damaging personal consequences of post-war decolonization, but its virtue seems its primary vice, as the novel feels like a conflation of several earlier Naipaul books, including The Mimic Men and the brilliant A Bend in the River. Consequently, some readers may well find that Half a Life reads more like half a novel. --Jerry Brotton, Amazon.co.uk
247 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2001
207 people are currently reading
3254 people want to read
About the author
V.S. Naipaul
191听books1,738听followersV. S. Naipaul was a British writer of Indo-Trinidadian descent known for his sharp, often controversial explorations of postcolonial societies, identity, and displacement. His works, which include both fiction and nonfiction, often depict themes of exile, cultural alienation, and the lingering effects of colonialism.
He gained early recognition with A House for Mr Biswas, a novel inspired by his father鈥檚 struggles in Trinidad. His later works, such as The Mimic Men, In a Free State, and A Bend in the River, cemented his reputation as a masterful and incisive writer. Beyond fiction, his travelogues and essays, including Among the Believers and India: A Million Mutinies Now, reflected his critical perspective on societies in transition.
Naipaul received numerous accolades throughout his career, including the Nobel Prize in Literature, awarded for his ability to blend deep observation with literary artistry. While praised for his prose, his often unsparing portrayals of postcolonial nations and controversial statements sparked both admiration and criticism.
He gained early recognition with A House for Mr Biswas, a novel inspired by his father鈥檚 struggles in Trinidad. His later works, such as The Mimic Men, In a Free State, and A Bend in the River, cemented his reputation as a masterful and incisive writer. Beyond fiction, his travelogues and essays, including Among the Believers and India: A Million Mutinies Now, reflected his critical perspective on societies in transition.
Naipaul received numerous accolades throughout his career, including the Nobel Prize in Literature, awarded for his ability to blend deep observation with literary artistry. While praised for his prose, his often unsparing portrayals of postcolonial nations and controversial statements sparked both admiration and criticism.
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May 24, 2024
VS Naipaul is out of fashion now. Who cares about him? Well, I do. Somehow, I always felt Naipaul spoke for things which I cared about. Look, I would not have invited the guy for lunch. He was always an openly grouchy person, who proudly displayed his cruelty. But I always felt like he spoke for people like me. Most people furiously stick up for their favorite political party. I loyally stick up for my favorite writers on 欧宝娱乐.
I always thought of Naipaul as a brilliant but bitter teacher trying to pass on some messages to his audience. I think he was writing for Indians. Who read his novels? I think middle class Indians and other great writers. I do not know a famous writer who has not said something nice about Naipaul. Everyone from Hunter S Thompson to Marlon James adored him.
Let me sell Naipaul to you guys. He was this really grouchy Indian from the Caribbean (his ancestors were bonded laborers over there) who had a problem with nearly everyone in the world. He hated his own people (鈥淚ndians defecate everywhere. They defecate, mostly, beside the railway tracks. But they also defecate on the beaches; they defecate on the hills; they defecate on the river banks; they defecate on the streets; they never look for cover."). He hated the Caribbean. He once said the post-war British were proud of being stupid and quite gloriously shat on the sexual mores of white working class British women in the sequel to this novel. He did like rednecks. He sympathized, with a few conditions, with Hindu nationalists. He wrote three books about his travels across the Islamic world, which were like a warning. He used to beat up his Argentinian mistress, which he admitted to his biographer.
Half a Life is a bitter novel. It speaks the truth about a phony and debilitating Hindu upbringing full of false choices and grandstanding to hide ones own mediocrity. It underscores the inadequacy of the early Indian immigrants of the second half of the 20th century to fit into British society. Naipaul often talked quite honestly about his own sexual rage and this novel is filled with the sexual impotence and longings of Willie Chandran, an Indian immigrant who is utterly lost in post world war England. His relationship with an African lady which takes him to Africa seems to have pissed off many reviewers of this book. But if you are an Indian, you know what this man writes is the truth. The inadequacy, desolation and precariousness of our lives wherever we go, is perfectly described by Naipaul.
I sort of understand Indians and people from other parts of the world who hate Naipaul. Here is a writer who took more risks than Bruce Willis holding up that banner in Die Hard 3. It is almost as if Naipaul wanted to be hated. He was not even like Michel Houellebecq or someone who granted some solace with the sex scenes in his novels. Naipaul, simply wanted to write the truth which we all long to escape from but consume secretly :) Christopher Hitchens once described Naipaul as "unassailable". That is the perfect one word description of Naipaul's artistic intent. Yes, here is one writer who never played any games and wrote what he really felt. Nobody cares about him now. It is sad, but not surprising.
I always thought of Naipaul as a brilliant but bitter teacher trying to pass on some messages to his audience. I think he was writing for Indians. Who read his novels? I think middle class Indians and other great writers. I do not know a famous writer who has not said something nice about Naipaul. Everyone from Hunter S Thompson to Marlon James adored him.
Let me sell Naipaul to you guys. He was this really grouchy Indian from the Caribbean (his ancestors were bonded laborers over there) who had a problem with nearly everyone in the world. He hated his own people (鈥淚ndians defecate everywhere. They defecate, mostly, beside the railway tracks. But they also defecate on the beaches; they defecate on the hills; they defecate on the river banks; they defecate on the streets; they never look for cover."). He hated the Caribbean. He once said the post-war British were proud of being stupid and quite gloriously shat on the sexual mores of white working class British women in the sequel to this novel. He did like rednecks. He sympathized, with a few conditions, with Hindu nationalists. He wrote three books about his travels across the Islamic world, which were like a warning. He used to beat up his Argentinian mistress, which he admitted to his biographer.
Half a Life is a bitter novel. It speaks the truth about a phony and debilitating Hindu upbringing full of false choices and grandstanding to hide ones own mediocrity. It underscores the inadequacy of the early Indian immigrants of the second half of the 20th century to fit into British society. Naipaul often talked quite honestly about his own sexual rage and this novel is filled with the sexual impotence and longings of Willie Chandran, an Indian immigrant who is utterly lost in post world war England. His relationship with an African lady which takes him to Africa seems to have pissed off many reviewers of this book. But if you are an Indian, you know what this man writes is the truth. The inadequacy, desolation and precariousness of our lives wherever we go, is perfectly described by Naipaul.
I sort of understand Indians and people from other parts of the world who hate Naipaul. Here is a writer who took more risks than Bruce Willis holding up that banner in Die Hard 3. It is almost as if Naipaul wanted to be hated. He was not even like Michel Houellebecq or someone who granted some solace with the sex scenes in his novels. Naipaul, simply wanted to write the truth which we all long to escape from but consume secretly :) Christopher Hitchens once described Naipaul as "unassailable". That is the perfect one word description of Naipaul's artistic intent. Yes, here is one writer who never played any games and wrote what he really felt. Nobody cares about him now. It is sad, but not surprising.
May 4, 2025
India
鈥淚 was doing penance for something I had done, and I was living as a mendicant in the outer courtyard of the big temple. I had also taken a vow of silence. This had won me a certain amount of local respect, even renown. People would come to look at me being silent and some would bring me gifts. I foolishly gave up English education in response to the mahatma's call and unfitted myself for life, while watching my friends and enemies growing in prosperity and regard.鈥�
England
鈥淗e turned away and began to walk down one of the paths beside Bayswater Road. He walked without seeing, thinking of the hopelessness of home and his own nebulous present. All at once, in the most magical way, he was lifted out of himself. He saw, walking towards him on the path, a man famous beyond imagining, and now casual and solitary and grand among the afternoon strollers. It was Krishna Menon, the close friend of Mr. Nehru, and India's spokesman in international forums.鈥�
Africa
"I am not staying here. I am leaving.鈥� That was how he thought during the slow further journey in a small coasting ship to the northern province closer now to the land, closer to the frightening mouths and wetlands of very wide rivers, quiet and empty, mud and water mixing in great slow swirls of green and brown. Those were the rivers that barred any road or land route to the north. They got off at last at a little low-built concrete town, grey and ochre and fading white, with straight streets.鈥�
**
Willie Chandran asks his father why his middle name is Somerset and the father begins the story of how he was born. The father was enrolled in an English language school and engaged to the principal鈥檚 daughter when he became motivated by the Mahatma to practice noncooperation. He notices an outcaste woman in the class and tries to socialize with her in accordance with Gandhi鈥檚 teachings against untouchability. This occurs after the 1930 Salt March in an unnamed maharaja state. His sitting with her at a tea shop after classes provokes her activist uncle to organize protests against caste oppression. Willie鈥檚 father was from a priestly caste family of high standing who ran the temple.
Concerned for her safety he arranges a place for her to live in a sculpture studio storeroom. At this point they both have left school. When the grandfather and the principal become aware of what鈥檚 happened he takes an oath of celibacy and penitence, moving out of the house to the temple where he practices a vow of silence, living off alms. The principal is hosting the foreign writer Somerset Maugham who traveled to ashrams and temples in 1938 and explains the meaning of the mendicant. He becomes famous in a guidebook and later in a Maugham novel. His celibacy vow ultimately fails and she becomes pregnant with Willie. Now living together in a house he is absorbed with self doubt and regrets.
After hearing this tale Willie tells his father that he despises him. As a boy he has a sister Sarojini, whom the father hopes to marry off to a foreigner, a mirror image of his wife. They attend a missionary school where Willie writes allegories of persecuted Dalits and evil Brahmins. He goes to London at age 20 in the 1950鈥檚, sponsored by a member of the House of Lords, similar to Naipaul鈥檚 scholarship at Oxford paid for by the government of Trinidad at around the same time. Willie finds he learned little of the world at the missionary school and meets other foreign scholarship students, one from Jamaica who has a white girlfriend, as Naipaul did. Willie wastes no time contriving to cheat with her.
Willie gets a part time job writing bits for the BBC, where Naipaul had once worked as a presenter. He meets a legal aid lawyer who is knowledgeable about literature. When he reads Willie鈥檚 writing he gives him sage advice which leads to the publication of a short story book and literary contacts. In the midst of London riots he receives a fan letter from a London student from Mozambique, a Portugese colony. They meet and he is immediately attracted to the mixed African woman named Ana. London had taught him to accept a range of people, unlike a caste system which determines your station at birth. There are echoes of his father and mother鈥檚 union and the folly of innate class distinctions.
Faced with graduation, no prospects and in love with Ana he asks to go with her to Africa. His younger sister Sarojini works with Che Guevara in Cuba while berating him to press for socialist causes. She had married a German who lives in Berlin. Naipaul had visited and traveled in East Africa in the 70鈥檚. When Willie arrives they drive off into the bush to a farmhouse where he doesn鈥檛 want to stay but spends the next eighteen years until he tires of living in the backwater colony. There are worries of a native insurrection, as had happened in Angola in a most grisly way. The whites put on European airs in the country. Finally Willie leaves and joins his sister and her husband in Berlin.
As a non-practicing Hindu V S Naipaul knew much about the faith even though he visited India only as a grown man and famous writer. He holds the dubious distinction of his first travelogue in a trilogy being banned by the government. This 2001 novel was published the year he received the Nobel Prize. There is a 2004 sequel 鈥楳agic Seeds鈥� which picks up where 鈥楬alf a Life鈥� ends, with Willie in Berlin. As with many of Naipaul novels it is a master class in how to transform your personal life experiences into fiction by adding a twist here and a stretch there. As Naipaul once said 鈥淣on-fiction can distort; facts can be realigned. But fiction never lies.鈥� This is a classic Naipaul novel, no doubt about it.
鈥淚 was doing penance for something I had done, and I was living as a mendicant in the outer courtyard of the big temple. I had also taken a vow of silence. This had won me a certain amount of local respect, even renown. People would come to look at me being silent and some would bring me gifts. I foolishly gave up English education in response to the mahatma's call and unfitted myself for life, while watching my friends and enemies growing in prosperity and regard.鈥�
England
鈥淗e turned away and began to walk down one of the paths beside Bayswater Road. He walked without seeing, thinking of the hopelessness of home and his own nebulous present. All at once, in the most magical way, he was lifted out of himself. He saw, walking towards him on the path, a man famous beyond imagining, and now casual and solitary and grand among the afternoon strollers. It was Krishna Menon, the close friend of Mr. Nehru, and India's spokesman in international forums.鈥�
Africa
"I am not staying here. I am leaving.鈥� That was how he thought during the slow further journey in a small coasting ship to the northern province closer now to the land, closer to the frightening mouths and wetlands of very wide rivers, quiet and empty, mud and water mixing in great slow swirls of green and brown. Those were the rivers that barred any road or land route to the north. They got off at last at a little low-built concrete town, grey and ochre and fading white, with straight streets.鈥�
**
Willie Chandran asks his father why his middle name is Somerset and the father begins the story of how he was born. The father was enrolled in an English language school and engaged to the principal鈥檚 daughter when he became motivated by the Mahatma to practice noncooperation. He notices an outcaste woman in the class and tries to socialize with her in accordance with Gandhi鈥檚 teachings against untouchability. This occurs after the 1930 Salt March in an unnamed maharaja state. His sitting with her at a tea shop after classes provokes her activist uncle to organize protests against caste oppression. Willie鈥檚 father was from a priestly caste family of high standing who ran the temple.
Concerned for her safety he arranges a place for her to live in a sculpture studio storeroom. At this point they both have left school. When the grandfather and the principal become aware of what鈥檚 happened he takes an oath of celibacy and penitence, moving out of the house to the temple where he practices a vow of silence, living off alms. The principal is hosting the foreign writer Somerset Maugham who traveled to ashrams and temples in 1938 and explains the meaning of the mendicant. He becomes famous in a guidebook and later in a Maugham novel. His celibacy vow ultimately fails and she becomes pregnant with Willie. Now living together in a house he is absorbed with self doubt and regrets.
After hearing this tale Willie tells his father that he despises him. As a boy he has a sister Sarojini, whom the father hopes to marry off to a foreigner, a mirror image of his wife. They attend a missionary school where Willie writes allegories of persecuted Dalits and evil Brahmins. He goes to London at age 20 in the 1950鈥檚, sponsored by a member of the House of Lords, similar to Naipaul鈥檚 scholarship at Oxford paid for by the government of Trinidad at around the same time. Willie finds he learned little of the world at the missionary school and meets other foreign scholarship students, one from Jamaica who has a white girlfriend, as Naipaul did. Willie wastes no time contriving to cheat with her.
Willie gets a part time job writing bits for the BBC, where Naipaul had once worked as a presenter. He meets a legal aid lawyer who is knowledgeable about literature. When he reads Willie鈥檚 writing he gives him sage advice which leads to the publication of a short story book and literary contacts. In the midst of London riots he receives a fan letter from a London student from Mozambique, a Portugese colony. They meet and he is immediately attracted to the mixed African woman named Ana. London had taught him to accept a range of people, unlike a caste system which determines your station at birth. There are echoes of his father and mother鈥檚 union and the folly of innate class distinctions.
Faced with graduation, no prospects and in love with Ana he asks to go with her to Africa. His younger sister Sarojini works with Che Guevara in Cuba while berating him to press for socialist causes. She had married a German who lives in Berlin. Naipaul had visited and traveled in East Africa in the 70鈥檚. When Willie arrives they drive off into the bush to a farmhouse where he doesn鈥檛 want to stay but spends the next eighteen years until he tires of living in the backwater colony. There are worries of a native insurrection, as had happened in Angola in a most grisly way. The whites put on European airs in the country. Finally Willie leaves and joins his sister and her husband in Berlin.
As a non-practicing Hindu V S Naipaul knew much about the faith even though he visited India only as a grown man and famous writer. He holds the dubious distinction of his first travelogue in a trilogy being banned by the government. This 2001 novel was published the year he received the Nobel Prize. There is a 2004 sequel 鈥楳agic Seeds鈥� which picks up where 鈥楬alf a Life鈥� ends, with Willie in Berlin. As with many of Naipaul novels it is a master class in how to transform your personal life experiences into fiction by adding a twist here and a stretch there. As Naipaul once said 鈥淣on-fiction can distort; facts can be realigned. But fiction never lies.鈥� This is a classic Naipaul novel, no doubt about it.
July 26, 2007
It does what it does well and not much else. Not a great way to explain it but if you read it you will understand. We follow the exceptionally uneventful life of Willie as he tries to discover himself and find a path to walk down. I found him to be spineless and became quite bored watching him float through life being led by his lust most of the time like so many male characters in so many other(better written) books. But then, the language reflects his life, nothing much exciting going on. Having at this time not read any other VS Naipaul I鈥檓 not sure if the straightforward prose is specific to this book or just how he writes, but at times it felt like it was written by a teenager. But as mentioned this matches the dull life of the main character. He marries the first woman to show him attention and I thought something was due to happen when they moved to Africa as the country went through some big changes as he lived there but these things seemed to happen on the outside and didn鈥檛 affect his life very much, he was too busy being led on by his crotch to notice much else. The life of his sister sounded a much better story and she seemed a better character but then the book would have been something completely different. Willie does live a 鈥榟alf life鈥� but it鈥檚 his own doing due to just floating through it with no direction or focus. Eventually he realizes that his life has been a waste of time but by then it鈥檚 too late. I鈥檒l let you read something else and give you the main message; live your life now before it鈥檚 too late.
From the inside cover 鈥樷€ devastating work of exceptional sensitivity鈥︹€� not sure who stayed up all night writing that but I was not devastated in the slightest.
At the end of the day there are better books about the struggle to find a 鈥榩urpose鈥� in one鈥檚 life.
From the inside cover 鈥樷€ devastating work of exceptional sensitivity鈥︹€� not sure who stayed up all night writing that but I was not devastated in the slightest.
At the end of the day there are better books about the struggle to find a 鈥榩urpose鈥� in one鈥檚 life.
May 29, 2022
賷賯賵賱 噩亘乇丕賳" 賱丕 鬲毓卮 賳氐賮 丨賷丕丞..丕賱賳氐賮 賴賵 丨賷丕丞 賱賲 鬲毓卮賴丕 賵賰賱賲丞 賱賲 鬲賯賱賴丕 賵丨亘 賱賲 鬲氐賱 廿賱賷賴
乇賵丕賷丞 賱賱賰丕鬲亘 丕賱亘乇賷胤丕賳賷 丕賱賴賳丿賷 丕賱兀氐賱 讪賷 廿爻 賳丕賷亘賵賱 .. 乇賵丕賷丞 兀賲賰賳丞 賵孬賯丕賮丕鬲 賲禺鬲賱賮丞
鬲丿賵乇 兀丨丿丕孬賴丕 賮賷 賲賳鬲氐賮 丕賱賯乇賳 丕賱毓卮乇賷賳 賮鬲乇丞 丕賱賰賵賱賵賳賷丕賱賷丞 賵賲丕 亘毓丿賴丕
賷乇丨賱 賵賷賱賷 鬲卮丕賳丿乇丕賳 賲賳 亘賱丿賴 丕賱賴賳丿 賮賷 賲丨丕賵賱丞 賱賱亘丨孬 毓賳 匕丕鬲賴 賵賴賵賷鬲賴 賵丨賷丕鬲賴 丕賱丨賯賷賯賷丞
賷賳鬲賯賱 賲賳 丕賱賴賳丿 廿賱賶 亘乇賷胤丕賳賷丕 孬賲 廿賱賶 賲爻鬲毓賲乇丞 亘乇鬲睾丕賱賷丞 賮賷 丕賮乇賷賯賷丕
賷丨賲賱 廿乇孬 賳卮兀鬲賴 丕賱匕賷 賷乇賮囟賴 賵賷毓賷卮 鬲亘毓丕 賱毓丕丿丕鬲 賵孬賯丕賮丕鬲 賵毓賱丕賯丕鬲 賲禺鬲賱賮丞 鬲賲丕賲丕
賵賮賷 丕賱賳賴丕賷丞 賵亘毓丿 爻賳賵丕鬲 胤賵賷賱丞 賷購丿乇賰 兀禺賷乇丕 丕賳賴 賱賲 賷毓卮 爻賵賶 賳氐賮 丨賷丕丞
兀噩丕丿 賳丕賷亘賵賱 乇爻賲 卮禺氐賷丞 亘胤賱 乇賵丕賷鬲賴 賲丕 亘賷賳 丕賱丕睾鬲乇丕亘 賵丕賱賱丕賲亘丕賱丕丞 賵丕賱丕賳賯賷丕丿
乇賵丕賷丞 賱賱賰丕鬲亘 丕賱亘乇賷胤丕賳賷 丕賱賴賳丿賷 丕賱兀氐賱 讪賷 廿爻 賳丕賷亘賵賱 .. 乇賵丕賷丞 兀賲賰賳丞 賵孬賯丕賮丕鬲 賲禺鬲賱賮丞
鬲丿賵乇 兀丨丿丕孬賴丕 賮賷 賲賳鬲氐賮 丕賱賯乇賳 丕賱毓卮乇賷賳 賮鬲乇丞 丕賱賰賵賱賵賳賷丕賱賷丞 賵賲丕 亘毓丿賴丕
賷乇丨賱 賵賷賱賷 鬲卮丕賳丿乇丕賳 賲賳 亘賱丿賴 丕賱賴賳丿 賮賷 賲丨丕賵賱丞 賱賱亘丨孬 毓賳 匕丕鬲賴 賵賴賵賷鬲賴 賵丨賷丕鬲賴 丕賱丨賯賷賯賷丞
賷賳鬲賯賱 賲賳 丕賱賴賳丿 廿賱賶 亘乇賷胤丕賳賷丕 孬賲 廿賱賶 賲爻鬲毓賲乇丞 亘乇鬲睾丕賱賷丞 賮賷 丕賮乇賷賯賷丕
賷丨賲賱 廿乇孬 賳卮兀鬲賴 丕賱匕賷 賷乇賮囟賴 賵賷毓賷卮 鬲亘毓丕 賱毓丕丿丕鬲 賵孬賯丕賮丕鬲 賵毓賱丕賯丕鬲 賲禺鬲賱賮丞 鬲賲丕賲丕
賵賮賷 丕賱賳賴丕賷丞 賵亘毓丿 爻賳賵丕鬲 胤賵賷賱丞 賷購丿乇賰 兀禺賷乇丕 丕賳賴 賱賲 賷毓卮 爻賵賶 賳氐賮 丨賷丕丞
兀噩丕丿 賳丕賷亘賵賱 乇爻賲 卮禺氐賷丞 亘胤賱 乇賵丕賷鬲賴 賲丕 亘賷賳 丕賱丕睾鬲乇丕亘 賵丕賱賱丕賲亘丕賱丕丞 賵丕賱丕賳賯賷丕丿
June 11, 2024
袙 褉褍褋褋泻芯屑 锌械褉械胁芯写械 褉芯屑邪薪 袧芯斜械谢械胁褋泻芯谐芯 谢邪褍褉械邪褌邪 褋褝褉邪 袙懈写懈邪写褏邪褉邪 袧邪泄锌芯谢邪 "Half a Life" 锌械褉械胁械写械薪, 泻邪泻 "袩芯谢褍卸懈蟹薪褜", 褔褌芯 屑芯卸械褌 斜褘褌褜 懈褋褌芯谢泻芯胁邪薪芯, 泻邪泻 薪械 褋芯胁褋械屑 锌芯谢薪邪褟 卸懈蟹薪褜, 卸懈蟹薪褜 胁锌芯谢褋懈谢褘, 褔褌芯 锌芯 泻芯薪褌械泻褋褌褍 锌芯写褏芯写懈褌, 薪芯 胁褋褢-褌邪泻懈 褟 锌褉懈胁械褉卸械薪械褑 褌芯褔薪褘褏 锌械褉械胁芯写芯胁.
小 胁芯蟹褉邪褋褌邪褞褖懈屑懈 屑懈谐褉邪褑懈芯薪薪褘屑懈 褌械薪写械薪褑懈褟屑懈 褋芯胁褉械屑械薪薪芯谐芯 屑懈褉邪 褉芯屑邪薪 斜褍写械褌 锌芯谢褍褔邪褌褜 胁褋械 斜芯谢械械 邪泻褌褍邪谢褜薪芯械 蟹胁褍褔邪薪懈械.
袩械褉胁邪褟 褔邪褋褌褜 褉芯屑邪薪邪 芯锌懈褋褘胁邪械褌 写械褌褋褌胁芯 谐械褉芯褟 袙懈谢谢懈 小芯屑械褉褋械褌邪 效邪写褉邪薪邪, 胁褌芯褉芯械 懈屑褟 泻芯褌芯褉芯谐芯 斜褘谢芯 写邪薪芯 械屑褍 胁 褔械褋褌褜 胁械谢懈泻芯谐芯 邪薪谐谢懈泄褋泻芯谐芯 锌懈褋邪褌械谢褟 小芯屑械褉褋械褌邪 袦芯褝屑邪, 褋 泻芯褌芯褉褘屑 胁褋褌褉械褔邪谢褋褟 械谐芯 芯褌械褑 胁芯 胁褉械屑褟 锌芯械蟹写泻懈 锌懈褋邪褌械谢褟 胁 袠薪写懈褞, 懈 懈褋褌芯褉懈褞 卸械薪懈褌褜斜褘 械谐芯 芯褌褑邪, 锌褉械写褋褌邪胁懈褌械谢褟 泻邪褋褌褘 斜褉邪屑懈薪芯胁 薪邪 写械胁褍褕泻械 懈蟹 薪懈蟹褕懈褏 泻邪褋褌. 袙懈谢谢懈 褉胁械褌褋褟 懈蟹 袠薪写懈懈, 胁褋械 褉邪胁薪芯 泻褍写邪 - 褏芯褌褜 胁 袣邪薪邪写褍, 褏芯褌褜 胁 袗薪谐谢懈褞, 谢懈褕褜 斜褘 薪械 芯褋褌邪胁邪褌褜褋褟 胁 褋胁芯械泄 褋褌褉邪薪械. 袛胁懈卸褍褖械泄 褋懈谢芯泄 械谐芯 写褍褕械胁薪褘褏 锌芯褉褘胁芯胁 斜褘谢芯 褍泄褌懈, 芯薪 锌芯褕械谢 褍褔懈褌褜褋褟 薪邪 褍褔懈褌械谢褟, 泻芯褌芯褉褘屑 薪械 褋芯斜懈褉邪谢褋褟 褋褌邪薪芯胁懈褌褜褋褟. 袨薪 蟹薪邪械褌, 褔械谐芯 芯薪 薪械 褏芯褔械褌, 薪芯 薪械 蟹薪邪械褌, 褔械谐芯 芯薪 褏芯褔械褌. 效械谢芯胁械泻, 薪械 蟹薪邪褞褖懈泄 泻褍写邪 懈 蟹邪褔械屑 芯薪 褋褌褉械屑懈褌褋褟, 锌褉懈写械褌 褌褍写邪, 泻褍写邪 械屑褍 薪械 薪褍卸薪芯. 袙褌芯褉邪褟 褔邪褋褌褜 芯锌懈褋褘胁邪械褌 械谐芯 褍褔械斜褍 胁 袗薪谐谢懈懈 懈 锌芯褋谢械写褍褞褖懈泄 锌械褉械械蟹写 胁 袗褎褉懈泻褍.
袨褋薪芯胁薪邪褟 锌褉芯斜谢械屑邪褌懈泻邪 褉芯屑邪薪邪 谢械卸懈褌 胁 锌谢芯褋泻芯褋褌懈 褋邪屑芯懈写械薪褌懈褎懈泻邪褑懈懈 谐械褉芯褟, 泻芯褌芯褉褘泄 褍褌褉邪褔懈胁邪械褌 褋胁芯懈 泻褍谢褜褌褍褉薪褘械 泻芯褉薪懈, 褌械屑 褋邪屑褘屑 锌芯谢褍褔邪褟 褌褉邪胁屑褍 "斜械蟹写芯屑薪芯褋褌懈", 泻芯谐写邪 薪懈泻邪泻邪褟 褋褌褉邪薪邪 薪械 褟胁谢褟械褌褋褟 褉芯写薪芯泄. 袛械谢芯 写芯褏芯写懈褌 写芯 褌芯谐芯, 褔褌芯 芯薪 芯褋芯蟹薪邪械褌, 褔褌芯 蟹邪斜褘胁邪械褌 褟蟹褘泻懈, 薪邪 泻芯褌芯褉褘褏 芯薪 谐芯胁芯褉懈谢, 懈 褝褌芯 锌褉懈 褌芯屑, 褔褌芯 芯薪 锌懈褋邪褌械谢褜. 袣芯薪械褔薪芯, 薪械 胁褋械 屑懈谐褉邪薪褌褘 褌邪泻芯胁褘. 袨褋薪芯胁薪邪褟 懈褏 屑邪褋褋邪 胁褋褢-褌邪泻懈 懈屑械械褌 褑械谢懈, 泻 泻芯褌芯褉褘屑 褋褌褉械屑褟褌褋褟. 袝褖褢 芯写薪褍 锌褉芯斜谢械屑邪褌懈泻褍, 泻芯褌芯褉褍褞 锌芯写薪懈屑邪械褌 锌懈褋邪褌械谢褜 - 褝褌芯 胁芯锌褉芯褋褘 褋械泻褋褍邪谢褜薪芯谐芯 胁芯褋锌懈褌邪薪懈褟. 袦薪械 褋芯胁褋械屑 薪械 锌芯薪褉邪胁懈谢懈褋褜 屑褘褋谢懈 效邪写褉邪薪邪 芯 "褋胁芯斜芯写械" 邪褎褉懈泻邪薪褋泻懈褏 写械胁芯褔械泻-锌芯写褉芯褋褌泻芯胁, 薪邪褔懈薪邪褞褖懈褏 锌芯谢芯胁褍褞 卸懈蟹薪褜 褋 锌褉懈褏芯写芯屑 锌械褉胁褘褏 屑械褋褟褔薪褘褏.
效邪写褉邪薪 - 胁芯锌谢芯褖械薪懈械 懈薪褎邪薪褌懈谢褜薪芯褋褌懈. 袨薪 胁懈薪懈褌 胁褋械褏, 芯褋芯斜械薪薪芯 褉芯写懈褌械谢械泄, 薪芯 薪懈褔械谐芯 薪械 写械谢邪械褌 褋邪屑. 袝谐芯 屑懈褉 薪邪褋褌芯谢褜泻芯 褍蟹芯泻 懈 斜械写械薪 胁锌械褔邪褌谢械薪懈褟屑懈, 薪邪斜谢褞写械薪懈褟屑懈, 屑褘褋谢褟屑懈, 褔褌芯 芯薪 锌懈褕械褌 褋胁芯懈 褉邪褋褋泻邪蟹褘, 懈褋锌芯谢褜蟹褍褟 泻懈薪械屑邪褌芯谐褉邪褎懈褔械褋泻懈械 褋褞卸械褌褘 懈 锌械褉械泻谢邪写褘胁邪褟 薪邪 懈薪写懈泄褋泻褍褞 锌芯褔胁褍. 袨薪 胁褘写褍屑褘胁邪械褌 褋胁芯械 锌褉芯褕谢芯械, 褔褌芯斜褘 谢褍褔褕械 锌褉懈褋锌芯褋芯斜懈褌褜褋褟. 袙 袗褎褉懈泻械 芯薪 褋褌邪谢泻懈胁邪械褌褋褟 褋芯 褋褌褉芯谐芯泄 褉邪褋芯胁芯泄 懈械褉邪褉褏懈械泄, 泻芯褌芯褉邪褟 褋胁芯械泄 屑薪芯谐芯褋褌褍锌械薪褔邪褌芯褋褌褜褞 薪邪锌芯屑懈薪邪械褌 泻邪褋褌芯胁褍褞 懈械褉邪褉褏懈褞 胁 袠薪写懈懈. 18 谢械褌 芯薪 锌褉芯胁芯写懈褌 胁 袗褎褉懈泻械 薪邪 锌芯锌械褔械薪懈懈 褋胁芯械泄 卸械薪褘 袗薪褘, 邪 泻芯谐写邪 芯褋芯蟹薪邪械褌 薪懈泻褔械屑薪芯褋褌褜 褋胁芯械泄 卸懈蟹薪懈 褌邪屑, 芯薪 薪邪褏芯写懈褌 薪芯胁褍褞 芯锌芯褉褍, 薪邪 泻芯褌芯褉芯泄 屑芯卸薪芯 锌邪褉邪蟹懈褌懈褉芯胁邪褌褜 - 褋胁芯褞 褋械褋褌褉褍 胁 袚械褉屑邪薪懈懈, 泻 泻芯褌芯褉芯泄 锌械褉械械蟹卸邪械褌, 斜褉芯褋懈胁 卸械薪褍.
袚械褉芯泄 泻 褋芯褉芯泻邪 谐芯写邪屑 芯褋芯蟹薪邪械褌, 褔褌芯 锌褉芯卸懈谢 锌芯谢芯胁懈薪褍 卸懈蟹薪懈, 薪芯 褌芯谢褜泻芯 谢懈 卸懈蟹薪褜 谢懈 褌芯 斜褘谢邪? 袩芯谢褍卸懈蟹薪褜. (袥芯谐懈泻褍 芯褌谢懈褔薪芯谐芯 芯褌 芯褉懈谐懈薪邪谢邪 锌械褉械胁芯写邪 锌芯薪褟褌褜 屑芯卸薪芯). 袠 蟹薪邪褔懈屑芯褋褌褜 褝褌芯谐芯 薪邪斜谢褞写械薪懈褟 袧邪泄锌芯谢邪 蟹邪 褔械谢芯胁械泻芯屑, "胁褘褉胁邪薪薪芯谐芯 褋 泻芯褉薪械屑" 懈蟹 褉芯写薪芯泄 褋褉械写褘, 薪芯 薪械 锌褉懈卸懈胁褕械谐芯褋褟 薪懈谐写械 懈 斜芯谢褌邪褞褖械谐芯褋褟 锌芯 屑懈褉褍, 薪械胁芯蟹屑芯卸薪芯 锌械褉械芯褑械薪懈褌褜.
小 胁芯蟹褉邪褋褌邪褞褖懈屑懈 屑懈谐褉邪褑懈芯薪薪褘屑懈 褌械薪写械薪褑懈褟屑懈 褋芯胁褉械屑械薪薪芯谐芯 屑懈褉邪 褉芯屑邪薪 斜褍写械褌 锌芯谢褍褔邪褌褜 胁褋械 斜芯谢械械 邪泻褌褍邪谢褜薪芯械 蟹胁褍褔邪薪懈械.
袩械褉胁邪褟 褔邪褋褌褜 褉芯屑邪薪邪 芯锌懈褋褘胁邪械褌 写械褌褋褌胁芯 谐械褉芯褟 袙懈谢谢懈 小芯屑械褉褋械褌邪 效邪写褉邪薪邪, 胁褌芯褉芯械 懈屑褟 泻芯褌芯褉芯谐芯 斜褘谢芯 写邪薪芯 械屑褍 胁 褔械褋褌褜 胁械谢懈泻芯谐芯 邪薪谐谢懈泄褋泻芯谐芯 锌懈褋邪褌械谢褟 小芯屑械褉褋械褌邪 袦芯褝屑邪, 褋 泻芯褌芯褉褘屑 胁褋褌褉械褔邪谢褋褟 械谐芯 芯褌械褑 胁芯 胁褉械屑褟 锌芯械蟹写泻懈 锌懈褋邪褌械谢褟 胁 袠薪写懈褞, 懈 懈褋褌芯褉懈褞 卸械薪懈褌褜斜褘 械谐芯 芯褌褑邪, 锌褉械写褋褌邪胁懈褌械谢褟 泻邪褋褌褘 斜褉邪屑懈薪芯胁 薪邪 写械胁褍褕泻械 懈蟹 薪懈蟹褕懈褏 泻邪褋褌. 袙懈谢谢懈 褉胁械褌褋褟 懈蟹 袠薪写懈懈, 胁褋械 褉邪胁薪芯 泻褍写邪 - 褏芯褌褜 胁 袣邪薪邪写褍, 褏芯褌褜 胁 袗薪谐谢懈褞, 谢懈褕褜 斜褘 薪械 芯褋褌邪胁邪褌褜褋褟 胁 褋胁芯械泄 褋褌褉邪薪械. 袛胁懈卸褍褖械泄 褋懈谢芯泄 械谐芯 写褍褕械胁薪褘褏 锌芯褉褘胁芯胁 斜褘谢芯 褍泄褌懈, 芯薪 锌芯褕械谢 褍褔懈褌褜褋褟 薪邪 褍褔懈褌械谢褟, 泻芯褌芯褉褘屑 薪械 褋芯斜懈褉邪谢褋褟 褋褌邪薪芯胁懈褌褜褋褟. 袨薪 蟹薪邪械褌, 褔械谐芯 芯薪 薪械 褏芯褔械褌, 薪芯 薪械 蟹薪邪械褌, 褔械谐芯 芯薪 褏芯褔械褌. 效械谢芯胁械泻, 薪械 蟹薪邪褞褖懈泄 泻褍写邪 懈 蟹邪褔械屑 芯薪 褋褌褉械屑懈褌褋褟, 锌褉懈写械褌 褌褍写邪, 泻褍写邪 械屑褍 薪械 薪褍卸薪芯. 袙褌芯褉邪褟 褔邪褋褌褜 芯锌懈褋褘胁邪械褌 械谐芯 褍褔械斜褍 胁 袗薪谐谢懈懈 懈 锌芯褋谢械写褍褞褖懈泄 锌械褉械械蟹写 胁 袗褎褉懈泻褍.
袨褋薪芯胁薪邪褟 锌褉芯斜谢械屑邪褌懈泻邪 褉芯屑邪薪邪 谢械卸懈褌 胁 锌谢芯褋泻芯褋褌懈 褋邪屑芯懈写械薪褌懈褎懈泻邪褑懈懈 谐械褉芯褟, 泻芯褌芯褉褘泄 褍褌褉邪褔懈胁邪械褌 褋胁芯懈 泻褍谢褜褌褍褉薪褘械 泻芯褉薪懈, 褌械屑 褋邪屑褘屑 锌芯谢褍褔邪褟 褌褉邪胁屑褍 "斜械蟹写芯屑薪芯褋褌懈", 泻芯谐写邪 薪懈泻邪泻邪褟 褋褌褉邪薪邪 薪械 褟胁谢褟械褌褋褟 褉芯写薪芯泄. 袛械谢芯 写芯褏芯写懈褌 写芯 褌芯谐芯, 褔褌芯 芯薪 芯褋芯蟹薪邪械褌, 褔褌芯 蟹邪斜褘胁邪械褌 褟蟹褘泻懈, 薪邪 泻芯褌芯褉褘褏 芯薪 谐芯胁芯褉懈谢, 懈 褝褌芯 锌褉懈 褌芯屑, 褔褌芯 芯薪 锌懈褋邪褌械谢褜. 袣芯薪械褔薪芯, 薪械 胁褋械 屑懈谐褉邪薪褌褘 褌邪泻芯胁褘. 袨褋薪芯胁薪邪褟 懈褏 屑邪褋褋邪 胁褋褢-褌邪泻懈 懈屑械械褌 褑械谢懈, 泻 泻芯褌芯褉褘屑 褋褌褉械屑褟褌褋褟. 袝褖褢 芯写薪褍 锌褉芯斜谢械屑邪褌懈泻褍, 泻芯褌芯褉褍褞 锌芯写薪懈屑邪械褌 锌懈褋邪褌械谢褜 - 褝褌芯 胁芯锌褉芯褋褘 褋械泻褋褍邪谢褜薪芯谐芯 胁芯褋锌懈褌邪薪懈褟. 袦薪械 褋芯胁褋械屑 薪械 锌芯薪褉邪胁懈谢懈褋褜 屑褘褋谢懈 效邪写褉邪薪邪 芯 "褋胁芯斜芯写械" 邪褎褉懈泻邪薪褋泻懈褏 写械胁芯褔械泻-锌芯写褉芯褋褌泻芯胁, 薪邪褔懈薪邪褞褖懈褏 锌芯谢芯胁褍褞 卸懈蟹薪褜 褋 锌褉懈褏芯写芯屑 锌械褉胁褘褏 屑械褋褟褔薪褘褏.
效邪写褉邪薪 - 胁芯锌谢芯褖械薪懈械 懈薪褎邪薪褌懈谢褜薪芯褋褌懈. 袨薪 胁懈薪懈褌 胁褋械褏, 芯褋芯斜械薪薪芯 褉芯写懈褌械谢械泄, 薪芯 薪懈褔械谐芯 薪械 写械谢邪械褌 褋邪屑. 袝谐芯 屑懈褉 薪邪褋褌芯谢褜泻芯 褍蟹芯泻 懈 斜械写械薪 胁锌械褔邪褌谢械薪懈褟屑懈, 薪邪斜谢褞写械薪懈褟屑懈, 屑褘褋谢褟屑懈, 褔褌芯 芯薪 锌懈褕械褌 褋胁芯懈 褉邪褋褋泻邪蟹褘, 懈褋锌芯谢褜蟹褍褟 泻懈薪械屑邪褌芯谐褉邪褎懈褔械褋泻懈械 褋褞卸械褌褘 懈 锌械褉械泻谢邪写褘胁邪褟 薪邪 懈薪写懈泄褋泻褍褞 锌芯褔胁褍. 袨薪 胁褘写褍屑褘胁邪械褌 褋胁芯械 锌褉芯褕谢芯械, 褔褌芯斜褘 谢褍褔褕械 锌褉懈褋锌芯褋芯斜懈褌褜褋褟. 袙 袗褎褉懈泻械 芯薪 褋褌邪谢泻懈胁邪械褌褋褟 褋芯 褋褌褉芯谐芯泄 褉邪褋芯胁芯泄 懈械褉邪褉褏懈械泄, 泻芯褌芯褉邪褟 褋胁芯械泄 屑薪芯谐芯褋褌褍锌械薪褔邪褌芯褋褌褜褞 薪邪锌芯屑懈薪邪械褌 泻邪褋褌芯胁褍褞 懈械褉邪褉褏懈褞 胁 袠薪写懈懈. 18 谢械褌 芯薪 锌褉芯胁芯写懈褌 胁 袗褎褉懈泻械 薪邪 锌芯锌械褔械薪懈懈 褋胁芯械泄 卸械薪褘 袗薪褘, 邪 泻芯谐写邪 芯褋芯蟹薪邪械褌 薪懈泻褔械屑薪芯褋褌褜 褋胁芯械泄 卸懈蟹薪懈 褌邪屑, 芯薪 薪邪褏芯写懈褌 薪芯胁褍褞 芯锌芯褉褍, 薪邪 泻芯褌芯褉芯泄 屑芯卸薪芯 锌邪褉邪蟹懈褌懈褉芯胁邪褌褜 - 褋胁芯褞 褋械褋褌褉褍 胁 袚械褉屑邪薪懈懈, 泻 泻芯褌芯褉芯泄 锌械褉械械蟹卸邪械褌, 斜褉芯褋懈胁 卸械薪褍.
袚械褉芯泄 泻 褋芯褉芯泻邪 谐芯写邪屑 芯褋芯蟹薪邪械褌, 褔褌芯 锌褉芯卸懈谢 锌芯谢芯胁懈薪褍 卸懈蟹薪懈, 薪芯 褌芯谢褜泻芯 谢懈 卸懈蟹薪褜 谢懈 褌芯 斜褘谢邪? 袩芯谢褍卸懈蟹薪褜. (袥芯谐懈泻褍 芯褌谢懈褔薪芯谐芯 芯褌 芯褉懈谐懈薪邪谢邪 锌械褉械胁芯写邪 锌芯薪褟褌褜 屑芯卸薪芯). 袠 蟹薪邪褔懈屑芯褋褌褜 褝褌芯谐芯 薪邪斜谢褞写械薪懈褟 袧邪泄锌芯谢邪 蟹邪 褔械谢芯胁械泻芯屑, "胁褘褉胁邪薪薪芯谐芯 褋 泻芯褉薪械屑" 懈蟹 褉芯写薪芯泄 褋褉械写褘, 薪芯 薪械 锌褉懈卸懈胁褕械谐芯褋褟 薪懈谐写械 懈 斜芯谢褌邪褞褖械谐芯褋褟 锌芯 屑懈褉褍, 薪械胁芯蟹屑芯卸薪芯 锌械褉械芯褑械薪懈褌褜.
August 17, 2018
賱賲 鬲賰賳 毓賱丕賯鬲賷 亘兀亘賷 噩賷丿丞 賮賷 兀賷 賮鬲乇丞 賲賳 賮鬲乇丕鬲 丨賷丕鬲賷 . 賵毓賱賶 丕賱乇睾賲 賲賳 匕賱賰 賱賲 兀丨賲賱 賱賴 兀賷 囟睾賷賳丞 賯胤.
匕賰乇鬲賳賷 賴匕賴 丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 亘賴 . 亘丕賱鬲丨丿賷丿 亘賷賵賲賽 賱賷 賲毓賴 . 賵兀賷丕賲賷 賲毓 兀亘賷 賲毓丿賵丿丕鬲 . 賱丨氐乇賴丕 兀氐丕亘毓 丕賱賷丿 丕賱賵丕丨丿丞 鬲賰賮賷 賵鬲夭賷丿. 賱賲 賳賰賳 兀亘丿丕 兀氐丿賯丕亍 賵賱賲 賷爻毓 兀賷 賲賳丕 廿賱賶 匕賱賰 . 毓賱賶 兀賷 丨丕賱 亘鬲購 兀毓鬲賯丿 兀賳 兀賷 兀亘 賮賷 賳馗乇 兀亘賳丕卅賴 賴賵 卮卅 夭丕卅丿 毓賳 丕賱丨丿 . 胤亘毓丕 丕賱賶 丕賳 賷賲賵鬲 .鬲毓賵丿 賴匕賴 丕賱匕賰乇賶 廿賱賶 夭賲賳 賱卮丿 賲丕 賷丨夭賳賳賷 兀賳賴 賷亘丿賵 丕賱兀賳 賲睾乇賯丕 賮賷 丕賱賯丿賲 .
賱丕 兀毓賱賲 賰賷賮 賵乇胤鬲 賳賮爻賷 賮賷 賲丕 賵乇胤鬲 兀亘賷 賮賷賴 .賯囟賷丞 爻賷丕爻賷丞 睾乇賷亘丞 賵睾賷乇 賲賮賴賵賲丞 噩乇鬲 兀賯丿丕賲賳丕 廿賱賶 丕賱賮氐賱 賲賳 丕賱賰賱賷丞 . 賰丕賳 毓賱賶 兀亘賷 賵丕賱丨丕賱 賰匕賱賰 兀賳 賷鬲丿禺賱 . 賱賲 兀丨爻亘 兀賳 亘廿賲賰丕賳賴 兀賳 賷睾賷乇 賲賳 丕賱兀賲乇 卮卅 . 賱賰賳 丕賱兀賲賵乇 噩乇鬲 亘卮賰賱 噩賷丿 噩丿丕 賱賲 兀鬲鬲賵賯毓賴 .
鬲亘賯賶 兀賳 賷兀鬲 賱賲賯丕亘賱丞 毓賲賷丿 丕賱賰賱賷丞 .
賰賱 賲丕 兀匕賰乇賴 毓賳 賴匕丕 丕賱賷賵賲 賳鬲賮 睾賷乇 賲噩鬲賲毓丞 . 兀賰孬乇 賲丕 賷賲賷夭賴 賰丕賳 亘乇賵丿丞 丕賱兀噩賵丕亍 亘卮賰賱 睾賷乇 毓丕丿賷 . 賵兀賳 兀亘賷 丕賱匕賷 毓賵丿賳丕 毓賱賶 賯爻賵鬲賴 賵丨丿丞 賲夭丕噩賴 賰丕賳 乇丕卅賯 噩丿丕 賵兀丨賳 賲丕賷賰賵賳 . 亘丿丕 賲鬲賮賴賲丕 賱胤亘賷毓丞 丕賱賲卮賰賱丞 丕賱鬲賷 賱賲 兀賮賴賲賴丕 兀賳丕 廿賱賶 丕賱兀賳 . 賰丕賳 匕賱賰 賲賳匕 兀賰孬乇 賲賳 8 爻賳賵丕鬲 .
睾乇賷亘 賴匕丕 丕賱夭賲賳 .
賵睾乇賷亘丞 賴匕賴 丕賱丨賷丕丞 .
賰賱 賲丕 賰賳鬲 兀賮毓賱賴 賴賵 賲丨丕賵賱丞 丕賱賲乇賵乇 亘賴匕賴 丕賱兀賵賯丕鬲 丕賱毓氐賷亘丞 廿賱賶 兀賯乇亘 亘乇 兀賲丕賳 . 兀賳 兀毓亘乇 亘兀亘賷 賴匕丕 丕賱賲賵賯賮 丕賱賲丨乇噩 . 毓丕賯丿丕 丕賱毓夭賲 毓賱賶 兀賱丕 賷鬲賰乇乇 賰賱 賴匕丕 丕賱賴乇丕亍 兀亘丿丕 .
廿爻鬲賯亘賱鬲賴 賲賳 兀賵賱 丕賱卮丕乇毓 孬賲 鬲鬲賱丕卮賶 丕賱匕賰乇賶 . 亘毓丿 匕賱賰 兀乇丕賴 賷毓亘乇 賲毓賷 賲賳 亘丕亘 丕賱賰賱賷丞 亘丕亘鬲爻丕賲丞 睾乇賷亘丞 賵賰兀賳賲丕 賴賵 賲賳 兀亘胤丕賱 夭賲賳 賯丿賷賲 爻賯胤 賮噩兀丞 賮賷 夭賲賳 丕賱兀賯夭丕賲 . 乇賲賯 丕賱兀乇噩丕亍 亘賳馗乇丞 卮賮賯丞 孬賲 廿賱鬲賮鬲 廿賱賷 廿賱鬲賮丕鬲鬲賴 丕賱禺賮賷賮丞
賯丕賱 賲賲丕夭丨丕 :
丕賱兀賳 毓乇賮鬲 丕賱爻乇 . 賲丕 毓丕丿 丕賱兀賲乇 睾乇賷亘丕 . 兀賳鬲 賱賷爻 賱丿賷賰 丨亘 賴賳丕 . 賮賮囟賱丕 毓賳 賵噩賵丿賰 賮賷 賳氐賮 賰賱賷丞 賱丿賷賰 賴賳丕 兀賳氐丕賮 賮鬲賷丕鬲 .
丕亘鬲爻賲鬲 .
賯賱鬲 : 賱丿賷 賴賳丕 賳氐賮 丨賷丕丞 賷丕 兀亘賷 ..
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鬲卮賰賱 乇賵丕賷丞 賳氐賮 丨賷丕丞 丕賱氐丕丿乇丞 毓丕賲 2000 賱賱乇賵丕卅賷 丕賱鬲乇賷賳賷丿丕丿賷 賲鬲毓毓丿 丕賱賴賵賷丕鬲 賮.爻 賳丕賷亘賵賱 賭 賮賷 乇兀賷 賭 夭賵乇丞 丕賱廿亘丿丕毓賷 丕賱爻乇丿賷 毓賳丿 賴匕丕 丕賱兀丿賷亘 丕賱賲鬲賮乇丿 毓賱賶 丕賱乇睾賲 賲賳 兀賳賷 賱賲 兀賯乇兀賴 賱賴 賭 丨鬲賶 丕賱兀賳 賭 爻賵賶 卮丕乇毓 賲賷噩賷賱 賲賲丕 賷噩毓賱 卮賴丕丿丞 賲孬賱 賴匕賴 賲噩乇賵丨丞 鬲賲丕賲丕 賱賰賳 爻賲丕鬲 兀丿亘 賴匕丕 丕賱兀丿賷亘 鬲亘丿賵 賴賳丕 噩賱賷丞 賰兀乇賵毓 賲丕 賷賰賵賳 .
賮賷 賴匕丕 丕賱毓賲賱 賷氐賵睾 賳丕賷亘賵賱 亘賯賱賲 賱賲丕丨 賳氐賮 丨賷丕丞 賱兀亘胤丕賱賴 卮丿賷丿賷 丕賱睾乇丕亘丞 . 賮毓亘乇 丕賱賮賰丕賴丞 丕賱賲丨亘亘丞 賱賱賳賮爻 鬲亘乇夭 賲乇丕乇丞 丕賱禺賷亘丞 賵賵賴賲 丕賱胤賲賵丨 丕賱丕賳爻丕賳賷 丕匕 賷氐胤丿賲 亘毓賯亘丞 丕賱賵丕賯毓 丕賱氐賱丿 貙 賮鬲毓賱賵 賳睾賲丞 丕賱丨夭賳 毓賱賶 賲丕 毓丕丿丕賴丕 .賷亘丿賵 賴賳丕 賰賱 卮賷卅 賵賰兀賳賲丕 噩亘賱 賲賳 丨夭賳 貙 賷亘丨孬 賳丕賷亘賵賱 毓亘乇 賴匕丕 丕賱毓賲賱 毓賳 丕噩丕亘丞 賱賱爻丐丕賱 丕賱卮賴賷乇 : 賲丕 賴賵 丕賱丕賳爻丕賳 賮賷鬲毓賲賯 賮賷 乇丨賱丞 丕賱丕亘賳 賵丕亘賷賴 賱賷禺乇噩 亘賲丨丕賵賱丞 賱丕爻鬲亘胤丕賳 賲丕賴賷丞 丕賱丕賳爻丕賳 .. 丕賱匕丕鬲 賵丕賱賲噩鬲賲毓 . 賲丕 丕賱匕賷 賷賳亘睾賷 兀賳 賷賮毓賱賴 丕賱賲乇亍 賮賷 毓丕賱賲 丕爻鬲毓賲丕乇賷 鬲丨丕賵賱 賰賱 孬賯丕賮丞 丕賳 鬲賮乇囟 賳賮爻賴丕 亘丕賱賯賵丞 毓賱賶 賲丕 爻賵丕賴丕 賮鬲賳賴夭賲 乇賵丨 丕賱丕賳爻丕賳 賵鬲賳鬲氐乇 丕賱賰乇丕賴賷丞.
賲賱賲丨 兀禺乇 賱賱乇賵丕賷丞 丕賱賳丕賷亘賵賱賷丞 賷鬲囟丨 賴賳丕 . 兀賮乇賷賯賷丕 .. 鬲賱賰 丕賱賯丕乇丞 丕賱鬲賷 賷賱賮賴丕 丕賱馗賱丕賲 賵丕賱鬲賷 毓亘孬鬲 亘賴丕 兀賷丕丿 賰賱 賲爻鬲毓賲乇 貙 賰賱 賲賳 賴亘 賵丿亘 丕爻鬲賯胤毓 賲賳賴丕 賯胤毓丞 賱賴 賮賲丕 毓丕丿 賱丕賮乇賷賯賷丕 賲賳 賴賵賷丞 爻賵賶 丕賱毓賳氐乇賷丞 .
丕賱賳氐賮 丕賱兀賵賱 賲賳 賴匕丕 丕賱毓賲賱 賵禺氐賵氐丕 賯氐丞 丨賷丕丞 丕賱兀亘 噩丕卅鬲 賰卮賷卅 丨丕賱賲 賱賲 兀毓賴丿 賲孬賷賱賴 賮賷 丕賱兀丿亘 . 禺賮丞 鬲賳囟丨 亘丕賱賮賰丕賴丞 . 賰賱 噩賲賱丞 賵乇丿鬲 賴賳丕 噩丕卅鬲 賵賰兀賳賲丕 賴賷 乇賵丕賷丞 毓亘賯乇賷丞 賲爻鬲賯賱丞 亘匕丕鬲賴丕 .. 廿爻鬲賲乇鬲 賴匕賴 丕賱禺賮丞 丨鬲賶 亘毓丿賲丕 丕賳鬲賴賶 丕賱兀亘 賲賳 賯氐鬲丞 丕賱噩賲賷賱丞 賱賯氐丞 丕亘賳賴 賰匕賱賰 廿賱賶 丨丿 丕賱賱丨馗丞 丕賱鬲賷 賯乇乇 賮賷賴丕 賵賷賱賱賷 丕賱丕亘賳 兀賳 賷賴丕噩乇 賲毓 兀賳丕 丕賱賮鬲丕丞 丕賱鬲賷 兀丨亘鬲賴 亘毓丿 賯乇丕亍丞 賰鬲丕亘賴 丕賱兀賵賱 貙 廿賱賶 丕賱賲爻毓賲乇丞 丕賱亘乇鬲睾丕賱賷丞 賮賷 卮乇賯 丕賮乇賷賯賷丕 . 亘毓丿賴丕 鬲丨賵賱鬲 賳爻丕卅賲 丕賱乇亘賷毓 廿賱賶 睾亘丕乇 禺乇賷賯賷 . 賰賱 卮卅 賴賳丕 賲乇 賵賯丕爻 賵氐丕丿賯 賵毓丕丿賷 賵亘丕乇丿 賵孬賯賷賱 貙 賰丕賱毓賳氐乇賷丞 丕賱亘睾賷囟丞
兀丿亘 賳丕賷亘賵賱 賯乇賷亘 丕賱卮亘賴 噩丿丕 亘兀丿亘 爻賱賲丕賳 乇卮丿賷 丕賱亘胤賱 賴賳丕 "賴賳丿賷 賲鬲乇噩賲 廿賱賶 丕賱廿賳噩賱賷夭賷丞 " 賵賷亘乇毓 賳丕賷亘賵賱 賰爻賱賲丕賳 賮賷 鬲卮賷丿 亘賳丕亍 乇賵丕卅賷 賷賲鬲丕夭 亘丨亘賰丞 丿丕禺賱賷丞 賲毓賯丿丞 賯丕卅賲丞 毓賱賶 賯賵丞 丕賱噩賲賱 丕賱爻乇丿賷丞 賵鬲鬲丕賱賷 丕賱廿爻鬲胤乇丕丿丕鬲 . 賷賴乇亘 丕賱亘胤賱 賲丨丕賵賱丕 丕賱毓孬賵乇 毓賱賶 氐賵鬲賴 丕賱丿丕禺賱賷 丕賱賲鬲賮乇丿 賮賱丕 賷噩丿 卮賷卅 . 賵賴賵 兀賷囟丕 賯丕爻 賮賷 賳賯丿 丕賱爻賷丕爻丕鬲 丕賱丕爻鬲毓賲丕乇賷丞 丕賱賶 丨丿 丕鬲賴丕賲賴 賴賵 賳賮爻賴 亘丕賱毓賳氐乇賷丞 . 賷鬲卮丕亘賴 賴匕丕 賲毓 賰丕鬲亘 賱胤丕賱賲丕 卮亘賴 亘賴 : 噩賵夭賷賮 賰賵賳乇丕丿 . 兀賷囟丕 賱丕 賷賮賵鬲 丕賱賲乇亍 丕亘乇丕夭 丕賴鬲賲丕賲 丕丿賵丕乇丿 爻毓賷丿 亘賳丕賷亘賵賱 賵賵氐賮賴 亘丕賱賰丕鬲亘 丕賱賮匕 . 賰匕賱賰 賲賯丕賱 兀賵乇賴丕賳 亘丕賲賵賯 賮賷 賰鬲丕亘賴 兀賱賵丕賳 兀禺乇賶 毓賳 兀丿亘 丕賱毓丕賱賲 丕賱孬丕賱孬 毓亘乇 毓賷賵賳 賲丕乇賷賵 亘丕乇禺丕爻 賷賵爻丕 賰賲孬丕賱 . 賲賴賲 賱賮賴賲 兀賮賰丕乇 賳丕賷亘賵賱 丕賱鬲賷 鬲禺乇噩 賴賷 丕賱兀禺乇賶 賲賳 毓亘丕亍丞 丕賱兀丿亘 丕賱亘毓賷丿 毓賳 兀賵乇賵亘丕 毓賳 兀丿亘 丕賱毓丕賱賲 丕賱孬丕賱孬 . 廿匕 賷賯賵賱 賳丕賷亘賵賱 賳賮爻賴 丕賳 賰丕鬲亘 兀賵乇賵亘丕 賷噩丿 毓丕賱賲賴 丕賱兀丿亘賷 亘爻賴賵賱丞 毓賰爻 賰鬲丕亘 丕賱毓丕賱賲 丕賱孬丕賱孬 丕賱匕賷賳 賱丕 賷賲賱賰賵賳 爻賵賶 賳氐賮 丨賷丕丞 賮賯胤 .
匕賰乇鬲賳賷 賴匕賴 丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 亘賴 . 亘丕賱鬲丨丿賷丿 亘賷賵賲賽 賱賷 賲毓賴 . 賵兀賷丕賲賷 賲毓 兀亘賷 賲毓丿賵丿丕鬲 . 賱丨氐乇賴丕 兀氐丕亘毓 丕賱賷丿 丕賱賵丕丨丿丞 鬲賰賮賷 賵鬲夭賷丿. 賱賲 賳賰賳 兀亘丿丕 兀氐丿賯丕亍 賵賱賲 賷爻毓 兀賷 賲賳丕 廿賱賶 匕賱賰 . 毓賱賶 兀賷 丨丕賱 亘鬲購 兀毓鬲賯丿 兀賳 兀賷 兀亘 賮賷 賳馗乇 兀亘賳丕卅賴 賴賵 卮卅 夭丕卅丿 毓賳 丕賱丨丿 . 胤亘毓丕 丕賱賶 丕賳 賷賲賵鬲 .鬲毓賵丿 賴匕賴 丕賱匕賰乇賶 廿賱賶 夭賲賳 賱卮丿 賲丕 賷丨夭賳賳賷 兀賳賴 賷亘丿賵 丕賱兀賳 賲睾乇賯丕 賮賷 丕賱賯丿賲 .
賱丕 兀毓賱賲 賰賷賮 賵乇胤鬲 賳賮爻賷 賮賷 賲丕 賵乇胤鬲 兀亘賷 賮賷賴 .賯囟賷丞 爻賷丕爻賷丞 睾乇賷亘丞 賵睾賷乇 賲賮賴賵賲丞 噩乇鬲 兀賯丿丕賲賳丕 廿賱賶 丕賱賮氐賱 賲賳 丕賱賰賱賷丞 . 賰丕賳 毓賱賶 兀亘賷 賵丕賱丨丕賱 賰匕賱賰 兀賳 賷鬲丿禺賱 . 賱賲 兀丨爻亘 兀賳 亘廿賲賰丕賳賴 兀賳 賷睾賷乇 賲賳 丕賱兀賲乇 卮卅 . 賱賰賳 丕賱兀賲賵乇 噩乇鬲 亘卮賰賱 噩賷丿 噩丿丕 賱賲 兀鬲鬲賵賯毓賴 .
鬲亘賯賶 兀賳 賷兀鬲 賱賲賯丕亘賱丞 毓賲賷丿 丕賱賰賱賷丞 .
賰賱 賲丕 兀匕賰乇賴 毓賳 賴匕丕 丕賱賷賵賲 賳鬲賮 睾賷乇 賲噩鬲賲毓丞 . 兀賰孬乇 賲丕 賷賲賷夭賴 賰丕賳 亘乇賵丿丞 丕賱兀噩賵丕亍 亘卮賰賱 睾賷乇 毓丕丿賷 . 賵兀賳 兀亘賷 丕賱匕賷 毓賵丿賳丕 毓賱賶 賯爻賵鬲賴 賵丨丿丞 賲夭丕噩賴 賰丕賳 乇丕卅賯 噩丿丕 賵兀丨賳 賲丕賷賰賵賳 . 亘丿丕 賲鬲賮賴賲丕 賱胤亘賷毓丞 丕賱賲卮賰賱丞 丕賱鬲賷 賱賲 兀賮賴賲賴丕 兀賳丕 廿賱賶 丕賱兀賳 . 賰丕賳 匕賱賰 賲賳匕 兀賰孬乇 賲賳 8 爻賳賵丕鬲 .
睾乇賷亘 賴匕丕 丕賱夭賲賳 .
賵睾乇賷亘丞 賴匕賴 丕賱丨賷丕丞 .
賰賱 賲丕 賰賳鬲 兀賮毓賱賴 賴賵 賲丨丕賵賱丞 丕賱賲乇賵乇 亘賴匕賴 丕賱兀賵賯丕鬲 丕賱毓氐賷亘丞 廿賱賶 兀賯乇亘 亘乇 兀賲丕賳 . 兀賳 兀毓亘乇 亘兀亘賷 賴匕丕 丕賱賲賵賯賮 丕賱賲丨乇噩 . 毓丕賯丿丕 丕賱毓夭賲 毓賱賶 兀賱丕 賷鬲賰乇乇 賰賱 賴匕丕 丕賱賴乇丕亍 兀亘丿丕 .
廿爻鬲賯亘賱鬲賴 賲賳 兀賵賱 丕賱卮丕乇毓 孬賲 鬲鬲賱丕卮賶 丕賱匕賰乇賶 . 亘毓丿 匕賱賰 兀乇丕賴 賷毓亘乇 賲毓賷 賲賳 亘丕亘 丕賱賰賱賷丞 亘丕亘鬲爻丕賲丞 睾乇賷亘丞 賵賰兀賳賲丕 賴賵 賲賳 兀亘胤丕賱 夭賲賳 賯丿賷賲 爻賯胤 賮噩兀丞 賮賷 夭賲賳 丕賱兀賯夭丕賲 . 乇賲賯 丕賱兀乇噩丕亍 亘賳馗乇丞 卮賮賯丞 孬賲 廿賱鬲賮鬲 廿賱賷 廿賱鬲賮丕鬲鬲賴 丕賱禺賮賷賮丞
賯丕賱 賲賲丕夭丨丕 :
丕賱兀賳 毓乇賮鬲 丕賱爻乇 . 賲丕 毓丕丿 丕賱兀賲乇 睾乇賷亘丕 . 兀賳鬲 賱賷爻 賱丿賷賰 丨亘 賴賳丕 . 賮賮囟賱丕 毓賳 賵噩賵丿賰 賮賷 賳氐賮 賰賱賷丞 賱丿賷賰 賴賳丕 兀賳氐丕賮 賮鬲賷丕鬲 .
丕亘鬲爻賲鬲 .
賯賱鬲 : 賱丿賷 賴賳丕 賳氐賮 丨賷丕丞 賷丕 兀亘賷 ..
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鬲卮賰賱 乇賵丕賷丞 賳氐賮 丨賷丕丞 丕賱氐丕丿乇丞 毓丕賲 2000 賱賱乇賵丕卅賷 丕賱鬲乇賷賳賷丿丕丿賷 賲鬲毓毓丿 丕賱賴賵賷丕鬲 賮.爻 賳丕賷亘賵賱 賭 賮賷 乇兀賷 賭 夭賵乇丞 丕賱廿亘丿丕毓賷 丕賱爻乇丿賷 毓賳丿 賴匕丕 丕賱兀丿賷亘 丕賱賲鬲賮乇丿 毓賱賶 丕賱乇睾賲 賲賳 兀賳賷 賱賲 兀賯乇兀賴 賱賴 賭 丨鬲賶 丕賱兀賳 賭 爻賵賶 卮丕乇毓 賲賷噩賷賱 賲賲丕 賷噩毓賱 卮賴丕丿丞 賲孬賱 賴匕賴 賲噩乇賵丨丞 鬲賲丕賲丕 賱賰賳 爻賲丕鬲 兀丿亘 賴匕丕 丕賱兀丿賷亘 鬲亘丿賵 賴賳丕 噩賱賷丞 賰兀乇賵毓 賲丕 賷賰賵賳 .
賮賷 賴匕丕 丕賱毓賲賱 賷氐賵睾 賳丕賷亘賵賱 亘賯賱賲 賱賲丕丨 賳氐賮 丨賷丕丞 賱兀亘胤丕賱賴 卮丿賷丿賷 丕賱睾乇丕亘丞 . 賮毓亘乇 丕賱賮賰丕賴丞 丕賱賲丨亘亘丞 賱賱賳賮爻 鬲亘乇夭 賲乇丕乇丞 丕賱禺賷亘丞 賵賵賴賲 丕賱胤賲賵丨 丕賱丕賳爻丕賳賷 丕匕 賷氐胤丿賲 亘毓賯亘丞 丕賱賵丕賯毓 丕賱氐賱丿 貙 賮鬲毓賱賵 賳睾賲丞 丕賱丨夭賳 毓賱賶 賲丕 毓丕丿丕賴丕 .賷亘丿賵 賴賳丕 賰賱 卮賷卅 賵賰兀賳賲丕 噩亘賱 賲賳 丨夭賳 貙 賷亘丨孬 賳丕賷亘賵賱 毓亘乇 賴匕丕 丕賱毓賲賱 毓賳 丕噩丕亘丞 賱賱爻丐丕賱 丕賱卮賴賷乇 : 賲丕 賴賵 丕賱丕賳爻丕賳 賮賷鬲毓賲賯 賮賷 乇丨賱丞 丕賱丕亘賳 賵丕亘賷賴 賱賷禺乇噩 亘賲丨丕賵賱丞 賱丕爻鬲亘胤丕賳 賲丕賴賷丞 丕賱丕賳爻丕賳 .. 丕賱匕丕鬲 賵丕賱賲噩鬲賲毓 . 賲丕 丕賱匕賷 賷賳亘睾賷 兀賳 賷賮毓賱賴 丕賱賲乇亍 賮賷 毓丕賱賲 丕爻鬲毓賲丕乇賷 鬲丨丕賵賱 賰賱 孬賯丕賮丞 丕賳 鬲賮乇囟 賳賮爻賴丕 亘丕賱賯賵丞 毓賱賶 賲丕 爻賵丕賴丕 賮鬲賳賴夭賲 乇賵丨 丕賱丕賳爻丕賳 賵鬲賳鬲氐乇 丕賱賰乇丕賴賷丞.
賲賱賲丨 兀禺乇 賱賱乇賵丕賷丞 丕賱賳丕賷亘賵賱賷丞 賷鬲囟丨 賴賳丕 . 兀賮乇賷賯賷丕 .. 鬲賱賰 丕賱賯丕乇丞 丕賱鬲賷 賷賱賮賴丕 丕賱馗賱丕賲 賵丕賱鬲賷 毓亘孬鬲 亘賴丕 兀賷丕丿 賰賱 賲爻鬲毓賲乇 貙 賰賱 賲賳 賴亘 賵丿亘 丕爻鬲賯胤毓 賲賳賴丕 賯胤毓丞 賱賴 賮賲丕 毓丕丿 賱丕賮乇賷賯賷丕 賲賳 賴賵賷丞 爻賵賶 丕賱毓賳氐乇賷丞 .
丕賱賳氐賮 丕賱兀賵賱 賲賳 賴匕丕 丕賱毓賲賱 賵禺氐賵氐丕 賯氐丞 丨賷丕丞 丕賱兀亘 噩丕卅鬲 賰卮賷卅 丨丕賱賲 賱賲 兀毓賴丿 賲孬賷賱賴 賮賷 丕賱兀丿亘 . 禺賮丞 鬲賳囟丨 亘丕賱賮賰丕賴丞 . 賰賱 噩賲賱丞 賵乇丿鬲 賴賳丕 噩丕卅鬲 賵賰兀賳賲丕 賴賷 乇賵丕賷丞 毓亘賯乇賷丞 賲爻鬲賯賱丞 亘匕丕鬲賴丕 .. 廿爻鬲賲乇鬲 賴匕賴 丕賱禺賮丞 丨鬲賶 亘毓丿賲丕 丕賳鬲賴賶 丕賱兀亘 賲賳 賯氐鬲丞 丕賱噩賲賷賱丞 賱賯氐丞 丕亘賳賴 賰匕賱賰 廿賱賶 丨丿 丕賱賱丨馗丞 丕賱鬲賷 賯乇乇 賮賷賴丕 賵賷賱賱賷 丕賱丕亘賳 兀賳 賷賴丕噩乇 賲毓 兀賳丕 丕賱賮鬲丕丞 丕賱鬲賷 兀丨亘鬲賴 亘毓丿 賯乇丕亍丞 賰鬲丕亘賴 丕賱兀賵賱 貙 廿賱賶 丕賱賲爻毓賲乇丞 丕賱亘乇鬲睾丕賱賷丞 賮賷 卮乇賯 丕賮乇賷賯賷丕 . 亘毓丿賴丕 鬲丨賵賱鬲 賳爻丕卅賲 丕賱乇亘賷毓 廿賱賶 睾亘丕乇 禺乇賷賯賷 . 賰賱 卮卅 賴賳丕 賲乇 賵賯丕爻 賵氐丕丿賯 賵毓丕丿賷 賵亘丕乇丿 賵孬賯賷賱 貙 賰丕賱毓賳氐乇賷丞 丕賱亘睾賷囟丞
兀丿亘 賳丕賷亘賵賱 賯乇賷亘 丕賱卮亘賴 噩丿丕 亘兀丿亘 爻賱賲丕賳 乇卮丿賷 丕賱亘胤賱 賴賳丕 "賴賳丿賷 賲鬲乇噩賲 廿賱賶 丕賱廿賳噩賱賷夭賷丞 " 賵賷亘乇毓 賳丕賷亘賵賱 賰爻賱賲丕賳 賮賷 鬲卮賷丿 亘賳丕亍 乇賵丕卅賷 賷賲鬲丕夭 亘丨亘賰丞 丿丕禺賱賷丞 賲毓賯丿丞 賯丕卅賲丞 毓賱賶 賯賵丞 丕賱噩賲賱 丕賱爻乇丿賷丞 賵鬲鬲丕賱賷 丕賱廿爻鬲胤乇丕丿丕鬲 . 賷賴乇亘 丕賱亘胤賱 賲丨丕賵賱丕 丕賱毓孬賵乇 毓賱賶 氐賵鬲賴 丕賱丿丕禺賱賷 丕賱賲鬲賮乇丿 賮賱丕 賷噩丿 卮賷卅 . 賵賴賵 兀賷囟丕 賯丕爻 賮賷 賳賯丿 丕賱爻賷丕爻丕鬲 丕賱丕爻鬲毓賲丕乇賷丞 丕賱賶 丨丿 丕鬲賴丕賲賴 賴賵 賳賮爻賴 亘丕賱毓賳氐乇賷丞 . 賷鬲卮丕亘賴 賴匕丕 賲毓 賰丕鬲亘 賱胤丕賱賲丕 卮亘賴 亘賴 : 噩賵夭賷賮 賰賵賳乇丕丿 . 兀賷囟丕 賱丕 賷賮賵鬲 丕賱賲乇亍 丕亘乇丕夭 丕賴鬲賲丕賲 丕丿賵丕乇丿 爻毓賷丿 亘賳丕賷亘賵賱 賵賵氐賮賴 亘丕賱賰丕鬲亘 丕賱賮匕 . 賰匕賱賰 賲賯丕賱 兀賵乇賴丕賳 亘丕賲賵賯 賮賷 賰鬲丕亘賴 兀賱賵丕賳 兀禺乇賶 毓賳 兀丿亘 丕賱毓丕賱賲 丕賱孬丕賱孬 毓亘乇 毓賷賵賳 賲丕乇賷賵 亘丕乇禺丕爻 賷賵爻丕 賰賲孬丕賱 . 賲賴賲 賱賮賴賲 兀賮賰丕乇 賳丕賷亘賵賱 丕賱鬲賷 鬲禺乇噩 賴賷 丕賱兀禺乇賶 賲賳 毓亘丕亍丞 丕賱兀丿亘 丕賱亘毓賷丿 毓賳 兀賵乇賵亘丕 毓賳 兀丿亘 丕賱毓丕賱賲 丕賱孬丕賱孬 . 廿匕 賷賯賵賱 賳丕賷亘賵賱 賳賮爻賴 丕賳 賰丕鬲亘 兀賵乇賵亘丕 賷噩丿 毓丕賱賲賴 丕賱兀丿亘賷 亘爻賴賵賱丞 毓賰爻 賰鬲丕亘 丕賱毓丕賱賲 丕賱孬丕賱孬 丕賱匕賷賳 賱丕 賷賲賱賰賵賳 爻賵賶 賳氐賮 丨賷丕丞 賮賯胤 .
April 13, 2019
N茫o gostei do primeiro livro que li de Naipaul e pensei ser um escritor para esquecer. Mas como a vida me ensinou que o que hoje amarga amanh茫 pode ser doce, e vice-versa, dei-me uma outra oportunidade. E foi um prazer conhecer Willy Chandran 鈥� o filho de um br芒mane que casa com uma mulher de uma casta baixa, de quem n茫o gosta, apenas para ir contra as tradi莽玫es. Desgostoso com a vida familiar, Willy, aos vinte anos, abandona a 脥ndia e vai estudar para Londres. A铆 conhece Ana e parte com ela para o seu pa铆s 鈥� uma col贸nia portuguesa em 脕frica.
Quer Willy, quer o seu pai, s茫o dois homens desenquadrados na sociedade em que est茫o inseridos e que procuram um rumo para a sua vida, diferente do que seria esperado e, aparentemente, pior; ou seja, recusando aceitar o seu "destino" condenam-se a uma vida de constantes inquieta莽玫es.
_____________
Pr茅mio Nobel da Literatura 2001
Vidiadhar Surajprasad Naipaul nasceu em Trindade e Tobago (Chaguanas) em 17 de Agosto de 1932 e morreu em Inglaterra (Londres) em 11 de Agosto de 2018.
Quer Willy, quer o seu pai, s茫o dois homens desenquadrados na sociedade em que est茫o inseridos e que procuram um rumo para a sua vida, diferente do que seria esperado e, aparentemente, pior; ou seja, recusando aceitar o seu "destino" condenam-se a uma vida de constantes inquieta莽玫es.
_____________
Pr茅mio Nobel da Literatura 2001
Vidiadhar Surajprasad Naipaul nasceu em Trindade e Tobago (Chaguanas) em 17 de Agosto de 1932 e morreu em Inglaterra (Londres) em 11 de Agosto de 2018.
January 8, 2023
Willie Chandran is an outsider from birth, apart from everyone and everything in his life wherever he is. His alienation comes partly from the circumstances of his birth to an unhappy couple, but also choices he makes no matter where he goes. Somewhat aimless, he never really launches, and as he looks back over his life, the only real growth he shows is in carnal knowledge.
What Naipaul intended with this story is hard to determine. It ends abruptly and leaves much unresolved. But in the middle section in London, an acquaintance and almost friend of Willie鈥檚 tells him that stories usually have a beginning, middle and end, and suggests to Willie he vary from that when he attempts to write fiction. Maybe that鈥檚 what Naipaul was doing, making it harder than normal to read his tale and force us to figure things out for ourselves (maybe not giving us an ending at all). Perhaps the title tells us the protagonist was only living his life half way and to not expect too much.
The writing is good and matches the apartness of the protagonist, keeping us at a distance with his judgments and harsh, negative opinions of others. Just unsatisfying at the end. Not a dud, but one expects more from a Nobel Laureate.
3 1/2 stars.
One more thing: Willie鈥檚 middle name is Somerset after Maugham (a writer I鈥檝e always liked), who entered Willie鈥檚 father鈥檚 life at an awkward moment and unwittingly changed it after writing The Razor鈥檚 Edge. This intersection of East and West was one of the more interesting little interludes.
What Naipaul intended with this story is hard to determine. It ends abruptly and leaves much unresolved. But in the middle section in London, an acquaintance and almost friend of Willie鈥檚 tells him that stories usually have a beginning, middle and end, and suggests to Willie he vary from that when he attempts to write fiction. Maybe that鈥檚 what Naipaul was doing, making it harder than normal to read his tale and force us to figure things out for ourselves (maybe not giving us an ending at all). Perhaps the title tells us the protagonist was only living his life half way and to not expect too much.
The writing is good and matches the apartness of the protagonist, keeping us at a distance with his judgments and harsh, negative opinions of others. Just unsatisfying at the end. Not a dud, but one expects more from a Nobel Laureate.
3 1/2 stars.
One more thing: Willie鈥檚 middle name is Somerset after Maugham (a writer I鈥檝e always liked), who entered Willie鈥檚 father鈥檚 life at an awkward moment and unwittingly changed it after writing The Razor鈥檚 Edge. This intersection of East and West was one of the more interesting little interludes.
May 30, 2024
The Difficulty of Self-Knowledge
Naipaul's novel "Half a Life" plays upon the ambiguity of its title in several ways. " In the most obvious sense, the book tells the story of "half a life" because it covers the life of its protagonist, Willie Somerset Chandran, up to the age of 41. (Slightly more than half the human lifespan of threescore and ten). At the end of the book, the reader is left to wonder about the manner in which Willie's subsequent life will develop.
In another sense, the novel tells the story of "half a life" in terms of quality rather than quantity (length of life). Willie leads only half a fully-developed human life in the book because of his frustration, for sexual as well as other reasons, and lack of purpose. Just as Willie comes to realize, the reader comes to realize as well the empty character of Willie's life.
Perhaps another sense in which the novel tells the story of "half a life" is that the author does not reveal Willie's full story. We learn about his frustrated ambitions, his family, his travels, and something of his sexuality. The book seems to suggest that there is more to the character, both within him and without him, than the author tells us.
A final sense in which the book tells of "half a life" lies in its autobiographical character. The book seems to be based in part on Naipaul's own life. But it does so by taking details from an actual lived life and scrambling them up and changing them through imagination, just in the way that Willie in the novel uses movie plots to create his volume of short stories. For example in the book Willie is born in India, goes to college in England as a scholarship student, and then lives in Mozambique. Naipaul was born in Trinidad, went to England as a scholarship student, and has written much about India.
All these possible meanings to the term "half a life" focus on Willie's lack of self-knowledge and his difficulty in attaining it. Willie seems the constant outsider. He is never comfortable with himself of where he is. He has no real plan or purpose for himself. In the book, he learns that he is a writer of promise and produces a good first volume of short stories. But he doesn't follow-up and instead leads a drifting life in Mozambique for 18 years. Equally important, Willie is sexually frustrated and, as he stresses, sexually ignorant. Willie's sexual frustration has its beginning in the India of his boyhood and in the unhappy relationship between his parents. It continues through his college years in London where he has sexual relationships with his friends' girlfriends and with prostitutes. And in Mozambique he continues his relationships with young African prostitutes and with the wives of acquaintances.
The book is in three large sections which describe Willie's life in India, his life as a student in London, and his years in Mozambique. I was greatly drawn into the first two parts of the book, particularly the middle section describing Willie's student days in London. The third lengthy section describing Willie's life in Mozambique in the final years of colonial rule falls off markedly.
This is a tough-minded book about its protagonist's inability to come to terms with himself, to find a goal in life he can pursue and a full human sexual relationship. It suggests the many ways in which people are limited, through their own choices or through their circumstances, to living "half a life".
Robin Friedman
Naipaul's novel "Half a Life" plays upon the ambiguity of its title in several ways. " In the most obvious sense, the book tells the story of "half a life" because it covers the life of its protagonist, Willie Somerset Chandran, up to the age of 41. (Slightly more than half the human lifespan of threescore and ten). At the end of the book, the reader is left to wonder about the manner in which Willie's subsequent life will develop.
In another sense, the novel tells the story of "half a life" in terms of quality rather than quantity (length of life). Willie leads only half a fully-developed human life in the book because of his frustration, for sexual as well as other reasons, and lack of purpose. Just as Willie comes to realize, the reader comes to realize as well the empty character of Willie's life.
Perhaps another sense in which the novel tells the story of "half a life" is that the author does not reveal Willie's full story. We learn about his frustrated ambitions, his family, his travels, and something of his sexuality. The book seems to suggest that there is more to the character, both within him and without him, than the author tells us.
A final sense in which the book tells of "half a life" lies in its autobiographical character. The book seems to be based in part on Naipaul's own life. But it does so by taking details from an actual lived life and scrambling them up and changing them through imagination, just in the way that Willie in the novel uses movie plots to create his volume of short stories. For example in the book Willie is born in India, goes to college in England as a scholarship student, and then lives in Mozambique. Naipaul was born in Trinidad, went to England as a scholarship student, and has written much about India.
All these possible meanings to the term "half a life" focus on Willie's lack of self-knowledge and his difficulty in attaining it. Willie seems the constant outsider. He is never comfortable with himself of where he is. He has no real plan or purpose for himself. In the book, he learns that he is a writer of promise and produces a good first volume of short stories. But he doesn't follow-up and instead leads a drifting life in Mozambique for 18 years. Equally important, Willie is sexually frustrated and, as he stresses, sexually ignorant. Willie's sexual frustration has its beginning in the India of his boyhood and in the unhappy relationship between his parents. It continues through his college years in London where he has sexual relationships with his friends' girlfriends and with prostitutes. And in Mozambique he continues his relationships with young African prostitutes and with the wives of acquaintances.
The book is in three large sections which describe Willie's life in India, his life as a student in London, and his years in Mozambique. I was greatly drawn into the first two parts of the book, particularly the middle section describing Willie's student days in London. The third lengthy section describing Willie's life in Mozambique in the final years of colonial rule falls off markedly.
This is a tough-minded book about its protagonist's inability to come to terms with himself, to find a goal in life he can pursue and a full human sexual relationship. It suggests the many ways in which people are limited, through their own choices or through their circumstances, to living "half a life".
Robin Friedman
May 13, 2019
I checked out the two books of this series, this the first and then Magic Seeds. I have read a small portion of the second and will be returning both books to the library for someone else to read.
Overall weirdness - something I like to sample but not when it just does not gel for me. He moves around in the first one: India, London, Africa. Apparently the second book takes him back to Great Britain. But...it starts in Berlin? His sister Sarojini asks him where he wants to go next since his 6-month visa is going to expire."I don't see what I can do. I don't know where I can go."
"You've never felt there was anything for you to do. You've never understood that men have to make the world for themselves....Eighteen years in Africa. Your poor wife. She thought she was getting a man. She should have talked to me...You've always preferred to hide. It's the colonial psychosis, the caste psychosis. You inherited it from your father."
...and on and on it goes
Overall weirdness - something I like to sample but not when it just does not gel for me. He moves around in the first one: India, London, Africa. Apparently the second book takes him back to Great Britain. But...it starts in Berlin? His sister Sarojini asks him where he wants to go next since his 6-month visa is going to expire."I don't see what I can do. I don't know where I can go."
"You've never felt there was anything for you to do. You've never understood that men have to make the world for themselves....Eighteen years in Africa. Your poor wife. She thought she was getting a man. She should have talked to me...You've always preferred to hide. It's the colonial psychosis, the caste psychosis. You inherited it from your father."
...and on and on it goes
November 26, 2011
Half a Life, published a decade ago, is another one of Naipaul's spare, brooding tales that focuses on the lack of identity--cultural identity, really--that characterizes modern life. The novel begins with a kind of joke. Willie Chandran was so named for W. Somerset Maughm who once met Willie's confused father, a silent holy man in India. This brought Willie no luck, however. Maughm wrote about the father, but he never expressed interest in helping Willie, not even when Willie showed up in London.
The London Willie came to (sometime in the 50's, one imagines) was a kind of imperial beach, littered with the human artifacts that the British Empire had brought upon itself: Indians, people from the Caribbean, Africans, Canadians, and so forth. Everyone was half something, half something else.
As it happens, Willie has some luck writing for the BBC while pursuing studies at an unnamed college. He then squeezes a book of short stories out of himself, most of the stories fables set in imaginary kingdoms. One thinks, aha, like Maughm Willie will become a writer, and perhaps a successful one. But no, here Naipaul breaks off his own personal saga (he came to London from Trinidad and established himself as a writer from the get-go) and takes Willie on a kind of cultural/sexual saga wherein he experiments with whores, loose Brits looking for a fling with a man of color, and then a Portuguese-African, Ana, who in some ways saves him. They move to a Portuguese colony in Africa where her father left her an estate, and for eighteen years Willie accomodates himself to luxury in the bush, with occasional night rides into the dance halls of black Africans where his needs are explosively satisfied by very young women.
His life seems pointless. The lives around him also seem pointless. High points are the night rides and the weekend lunches at other estates, where the architectural grandeur (or pretension) is not matched by intrinsic human interest. (Sidenote: Having spent much of my life exposed to well-to-do ex-pats, I'm of the opinion that they're among the saddest of all human beings, ravenous to hear about the States but insistent that they know the States better, far better, than anyone who actually lives there.)
Then Willie meets a woman named Gracia, who is his instant soulmate although she's trapped in a marriage to a drunk estate manager. Well, there's a loping quality in a Naipaul in which "one day" these things happen; they just do. Two eyes meet two eyes and all four eyes explode with understanding.
But meanwhile the Portuguese-based regime is crumbling; black Africa is reclaiming its rightful place, and Gracia and Willia (and Ana) are pulled apart, unsure that any of them has really had a life, or perhaps even half a life, the book's title.
Oops, I gave the ending away, but this hardly matters. Naipaul excels in perfectly controlled, clearly focused, exotic studies of people and the cultural landscapes in which they dwell. That's what you read him for. This isn't Of Human Bondage, big and throbbing and heart-wrenching. No, Willie and other protagonists in Naipaul's books are written in minor keys. Their claims are acute but modest; they are trapped betwixt and between, and that's what one reads Naipaul to experience...that ambiguity and ambivalence...that sense that among ex-pats there are at least a few thoughtful, pained figures worth your time.
The London Willie came to (sometime in the 50's, one imagines) was a kind of imperial beach, littered with the human artifacts that the British Empire had brought upon itself: Indians, people from the Caribbean, Africans, Canadians, and so forth. Everyone was half something, half something else.
As it happens, Willie has some luck writing for the BBC while pursuing studies at an unnamed college. He then squeezes a book of short stories out of himself, most of the stories fables set in imaginary kingdoms. One thinks, aha, like Maughm Willie will become a writer, and perhaps a successful one. But no, here Naipaul breaks off his own personal saga (he came to London from Trinidad and established himself as a writer from the get-go) and takes Willie on a kind of cultural/sexual saga wherein he experiments with whores, loose Brits looking for a fling with a man of color, and then a Portuguese-African, Ana, who in some ways saves him. They move to a Portuguese colony in Africa where her father left her an estate, and for eighteen years Willie accomodates himself to luxury in the bush, with occasional night rides into the dance halls of black Africans where his needs are explosively satisfied by very young women.
His life seems pointless. The lives around him also seem pointless. High points are the night rides and the weekend lunches at other estates, where the architectural grandeur (or pretension) is not matched by intrinsic human interest. (Sidenote: Having spent much of my life exposed to well-to-do ex-pats, I'm of the opinion that they're among the saddest of all human beings, ravenous to hear about the States but insistent that they know the States better, far better, than anyone who actually lives there.)
Then Willie meets a woman named Gracia, who is his instant soulmate although she's trapped in a marriage to a drunk estate manager. Well, there's a loping quality in a Naipaul in which "one day" these things happen; they just do. Two eyes meet two eyes and all four eyes explode with understanding.
But meanwhile the Portuguese-based regime is crumbling; black Africa is reclaiming its rightful place, and Gracia and Willia (and Ana) are pulled apart, unsure that any of them has really had a life, or perhaps even half a life, the book's title.
Oops, I gave the ending away, but this hardly matters. Naipaul excels in perfectly controlled, clearly focused, exotic studies of people and the cultural landscapes in which they dwell. That's what you read him for. This isn't Of Human Bondage, big and throbbing and heart-wrenching. No, Willie and other protagonists in Naipaul's books are written in minor keys. Their claims are acute but modest; they are trapped betwixt and between, and that's what one reads Naipaul to experience...that ambiguity and ambivalence...that sense that among ex-pats there are at least a few thoughtful, pained figures worth your time.
October 4, 2018
This is second book by Naipaul that I have read and found it a third rate, depressing book written by somebody drunk on his success. I started reading him looking at his great literary awards but after reading Guerrillas and now this, I have decided to put a stop to this. The plot is all over the place , there is nothing that can hold reader's attention . Too much emphasis on sexual impotence and later sexual discovery by the protagonist is a huge distraction which does little to build the plot. Avoid at all costs
January 6, 2025
Este foi o meu primeiro livro de Naipaul, n茫o ser谩 o 煤ltimo, mas estava 脿 espera de ter gostado mais. Gostei da hist贸ria, que nos conta parte (metade) da vida de Willie Somerset Chandran, come莽ando pela dos seus pais, um br芒mane e uma mulher de casta inferior, com quem se casou por um capricho de juventude.
A vida de Willie passa pela 脥ndia, Reino Unido e Mo莽ambique, na altura ainda uma col贸nia portuguesa. O livro retrata muito bem a falta de rumo de Willie, a forma como se sente perdido e vai vivendo os acontecimentos um pouco 脿 medida como eles se lhe apresentam, sem planeamento nem objetivos. Tem passagens muito bonitas.
鈥漁 seu mundo em 脕frica estava a chegar ao fim; n茫o creio que nenhum dos presentes pusesse isso em causa, apesar de todos os discursos e do cerimonial; mas todos estavam tranquilos, a desfrutar o momento, a encher a velha sala com os seus risos e conversas, como se n茫o se importassem com o que viria a acontecer, como pessoas que sabiam viver com a hist贸ria. Nunca admirei tanto os portugueses como nesse momento.鈥�
Acho que o que gostei menos, e me impede de lhe dar mais de tr锚s estrelas foi a obsess茫o de Willie com a sua virilidade, que atravessa o livro do princ铆pio ao fim e se torna um tanto obsessiva. Ainda assim, tiro o chap茅u a Naipaul, que consegue descrever as cenas mais desagrad谩veis sem nunca cair na vulgaridade, e por vezes tornando-as mesmo bonitas.
脡 tamb茅m um prazer pegar num livro t茫o bem traduzido, que temos a sensa莽茫o de ter sido escrito na nossa l铆ngua, que foi o que me aconteceu com este, traduzido por Jos茅 Vieira de Lima.
"Levara comigo uma capa de borracha do ex茅rcito. Estendi-a no alpendre e deit谩mo-nos nela sem trocar palavra.
(鈥�) e eu pensei qu茫o terr铆vel teria sido se, como facilmente poderia ter acontecido, eu tivesse morrido sem conhecer uma tal profundidade de satisfa莽茫o (...)"
A vida de Willie passa pela 脥ndia, Reino Unido e Mo莽ambique, na altura ainda uma col贸nia portuguesa. O livro retrata muito bem a falta de rumo de Willie, a forma como se sente perdido e vai vivendo os acontecimentos um pouco 脿 medida como eles se lhe apresentam, sem planeamento nem objetivos. Tem passagens muito bonitas.
鈥漁 seu mundo em 脕frica estava a chegar ao fim; n茫o creio que nenhum dos presentes pusesse isso em causa, apesar de todos os discursos e do cerimonial; mas todos estavam tranquilos, a desfrutar o momento, a encher a velha sala com os seus risos e conversas, como se n茫o se importassem com o que viria a acontecer, como pessoas que sabiam viver com a hist贸ria. Nunca admirei tanto os portugueses como nesse momento.鈥�
Acho que o que gostei menos, e me impede de lhe dar mais de tr锚s estrelas foi a obsess茫o de Willie com a sua virilidade, que atravessa o livro do princ铆pio ao fim e se torna um tanto obsessiva. Ainda assim, tiro o chap茅u a Naipaul, que consegue descrever as cenas mais desagrad谩veis sem nunca cair na vulgaridade, e por vezes tornando-as mesmo bonitas.
脡 tamb茅m um prazer pegar num livro t茫o bem traduzido, que temos a sensa莽茫o de ter sido escrito na nossa l铆ngua, que foi o que me aconteceu com este, traduzido por Jos茅 Vieira de Lima.
"Levara comigo uma capa de borracha do ex茅rcito. Estendi-a no alpendre e deit谩mo-nos nela sem trocar palavra.
(鈥�) e eu pensei qu茫o terr铆vel teria sido se, como facilmente poderia ter acontecido, eu tivesse morrido sem conhecer uma tal profundidade de satisfa莽茫o (...)"
October 7, 2016
鬲丕乇賷禺 丕賱賯乇丕亍丞 丕賱丕氐賱賷 : 佗贍贍佗
兀馗賳 兀賳 賰孬賷乇丕 賲賳 噩賲丕賱 丕賱賳氐 丕賱兀氐賱賷 鬲爻丕賯胤 賲毓 丕賱鬲乇噩賲丞
兀馗賳 兀賳 賰孬賷乇丕 賲賳 噩賲丕賱 丕賱賳氐 丕賱兀氐賱賷 鬲爻丕賯胤 賲毓 丕賱鬲乇噩賲丞
November 12, 2024
I descend from a long line of wanderers. At one point in time (the 1970s) my 4 siblings and I were as distant from each other on the globe as we possibly could be. My ancestors landed in Massachusetts in 1630 and on the other coast, my great great grandmother was born on a ship that landed in San Francisco when it was Yerba Buena, before it was stolen from Mexico, before the Gold Rush. I have made my home in the cone of South America 10,000 km away from where I was born in Los Angeles, looking out to sea.
So the hapless, mistake that is Willie Chandran and his windblown peregrinations in this book should feel familial to me, but no, he doesn鈥檛, it doesn鈥檛. Everything happens to him, on him. Never from him. He watches his life on TV.
Which brought me to Joseph Campbell who told us all to Follow Our Bliss:
鈥淭he heroic life is living the individual adventure. There is no security in following the call to adventure. Nothing is exciting if you know what the outcome is going to be.鈥�
Except Willie wasn鈥檛 paying attention, ever. He is randomly thrown from place to place, never really bothering to gain an orientation, learn the stories, the history, develop any relationships that are more than commodities.
You know, the work that needs to be done before you figure out who you are, the hard work, the quest of growing up. Here Willie麓s story is only a tale of fraudulent bargains that made up an identity. Pendulum swings.
I have spent a long time over the years thinking and reading about Identity, about the things that cause some people to stay in personal or societal situations that harm them, that disempower them, that make up their so-called identity. Reasons they never leave home. The gravitational pull of religion, or culture or the unwillingness to break an imaginary or assumed code - or worse the persistent belief in a fairy tale that seems ridiculous (to me).
Or sometimes, just the desire to be liked keeps people hemmed in. And they, sadly, never live their adventure. But then鈥�
Again I think of Joseph Campbell:
鈥淔or those in whom a local mythology still works, there is an experience both of accord with the social order, and of harmony with the universe. For those, however, in whom the authorized signs no longer work -- or, if working, produce deviant effects -- there follows inevitably a sense both of dissociation from the local social nexus and of quest, within and without, for life, which the brain will take to be for 'meaning.'鈥�
See, none of this was happening with Willie. In no other VSN book have I felt it was so much about the writing and not the story. I am tempted to compare Willie to an Autumn leaf being blown about, but leaves have important work. Fallen leaves provide habitat for insects and microbia, they break down into nutrients for the tree they are part of; Willie had no important work at all.
VSN has always written about the hypocrisies of power and inequities of life, how the bag we are thrown at birth, whether empty or a bag of chips, determines the path we are set upon. But usually his writing is tempered with humor, pathos, spread on a full plate of history, so that we can laugh at our own buffoonery. This was just a sucker punch. There was humor but it always seemed at too much expense.
The early chapters, telling the story of Willie鈥檚 rather unfortunate conception to his accidentally famous high caste father and his randomly chosen, education-cut-short, low caste mother are the most enjoyable. None of it seemed quite dharmic.
Is that a word?
And all of the women characters were flat, stereotypical, not up to VSN鈥檚 usual eyrie heights.
One moment in end-stage colonial Mozambique (soon coming to the concrete world everywhere):
鈥淚t didn鈥檛 have much longer to go now; and I wonder whether in our circle we hadn鈥檛 all 鈥een granted some unsettling intimation, which we might have brushed aside, that our bluff in Africa would one day be called. Though I don鈥檛 think anyone could have guessed that the world of concrete was going to be so completely overwhelmed by the frail old world of straw.鈥�
So the hapless, mistake that is Willie Chandran and his windblown peregrinations in this book should feel familial to me, but no, he doesn鈥檛, it doesn鈥檛. Everything happens to him, on him. Never from him. He watches his life on TV.
Which brought me to Joseph Campbell who told us all to Follow Our Bliss:
鈥淭he heroic life is living the individual adventure. There is no security in following the call to adventure. Nothing is exciting if you know what the outcome is going to be.鈥�
Except Willie wasn鈥檛 paying attention, ever. He is randomly thrown from place to place, never really bothering to gain an orientation, learn the stories, the history, develop any relationships that are more than commodities.
You know, the work that needs to be done before you figure out who you are, the hard work, the quest of growing up. Here Willie麓s story is only a tale of fraudulent bargains that made up an identity. Pendulum swings.
I have spent a long time over the years thinking and reading about Identity, about the things that cause some people to stay in personal or societal situations that harm them, that disempower them, that make up their so-called identity. Reasons they never leave home. The gravitational pull of religion, or culture or the unwillingness to break an imaginary or assumed code - or worse the persistent belief in a fairy tale that seems ridiculous (to me).
Or sometimes, just the desire to be liked keeps people hemmed in. And they, sadly, never live their adventure. But then鈥�
Again I think of Joseph Campbell:
鈥淔or those in whom a local mythology still works, there is an experience both of accord with the social order, and of harmony with the universe. For those, however, in whom the authorized signs no longer work -- or, if working, produce deviant effects -- there follows inevitably a sense both of dissociation from the local social nexus and of quest, within and without, for life, which the brain will take to be for 'meaning.'鈥�
See, none of this was happening with Willie. In no other VSN book have I felt it was so much about the writing and not the story. I am tempted to compare Willie to an Autumn leaf being blown about, but leaves have important work. Fallen leaves provide habitat for insects and microbia, they break down into nutrients for the tree they are part of; Willie had no important work at all.
VSN has always written about the hypocrisies of power and inequities of life, how the bag we are thrown at birth, whether empty or a bag of chips, determines the path we are set upon. But usually his writing is tempered with humor, pathos, spread on a full plate of history, so that we can laugh at our own buffoonery. This was just a sucker punch. There was humor but it always seemed at too much expense.
The early chapters, telling the story of Willie鈥檚 rather unfortunate conception to his accidentally famous high caste father and his randomly chosen, education-cut-short, low caste mother are the most enjoyable. None of it seemed quite dharmic.
Is that a word?
And all of the women characters were flat, stereotypical, not up to VSN鈥檚 usual eyrie heights.
One moment in end-stage colonial Mozambique (soon coming to the concrete world everywhere):
鈥淚t didn鈥檛 have much longer to go now; and I wonder whether in our circle we hadn鈥檛 all 鈥een granted some unsettling intimation, which we might have brushed aside, that our bluff in Africa would one day be called. Though I don鈥檛 think anyone could have guessed that the world of concrete was going to be so completely overwhelmed by the frail old world of straw.鈥�
November 27, 2019
Oh so much telling... so very much. I started out invested in the story and in Willie and half-way through I felt life was too short to read this in detail. Half a Life indeed. I didn鈥檛 want to leave it so I skimmed through the long boring historical narratives to where Willie reminisced about his interactions with others. I was interested in him but the memoir-like execution did not serve the story at all.
It鈥檚 funny that at the start, with all the literary references of a post-modern novel, Willie praises the brilliance of Hemingway鈥檚 use of dialogue and it鈥檚 ability to carry a story forward, yet at no point is dialogue paramount in this book. And, it turns out to be just another Naipaul colonial text. Sigh.
It鈥檚 funny that at the start, with all the literary references of a post-modern novel, Willie praises the brilliance of Hemingway鈥檚 use of dialogue and it鈥檚 ability to carry a story forward, yet at no point is dialogue paramount in this book. And, it turns out to be just another Naipaul colonial text. Sigh.
August 19, 2008
Quite unremarkable. I haven鈥檛 read anything else by Naipaul, and I probably won鈥檛. I know I shouldn鈥檛 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 鈥� honestly, I think you鈥檒l find better examples of writing in any creative writing class.
March 14, 2024
Willie Chandran, nascunt in India, intr-o familie disfuntionala, unde tatal a ales sa intoarca spatele mostenirii brahmane si s-a casatorit cu o femeie dintr-o casta inferioara (o uniune regretabila si dezastruoasa), ajuns la maturitatea pleaca la Londra. "-Nu platim oare cu totii, zi de zi, pentru pacatele trecutului, in timp ce acumulam pedepse pentru viitor?"
Ajuns in Anglia, intr-o cu totul alta lume si cultura, Willie incearca sa-si cladeasca o noua identitate printre imigrantii si boemii anilor 1950. "Totul merge in prejudecati. Lumea ar trebui sa se opreasca, dar continua."
Avand un subiect interesant si o aroma orientala credeam ca are ingredientele necesare pentru a imi capta atentia, dar nu a fost asa. Desi incepe binisor, mi s-a parut ca pe parcurs incepe sa fie lipsita de viata si plictisitoare.
Ajuns in Anglia, intr-o cu totul alta lume si cultura, Willie incearca sa-si cladeasca o noua identitate printre imigrantii si boemii anilor 1950. "Totul merge in prejudecati. Lumea ar trebui sa se opreasca, dar continua."
Avand un subiect interesant si o aroma orientala credeam ca are ingredientele necesare pentru a imi capta atentia, dar nu a fost asa. Desi incepe binisor, mi s-a parut ca pe parcurs incepe sa fie lipsita de viata si plictisitoare.
April 10, 2008
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.
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.
May 15, 2007
naipaul is BRUTUAL! many people are critical of his unsympathetic and even accusatory attitude towards citizens of undeveloped countries... but he's got something valid to say and it's worth hearing. this semi-autobiographical work explains how one can be both vulnerable and responsible. in other words, power is not only to be claimed by the wealthy. it's up for grabs.
August 4, 2017
Half a Good Book...
February 9, 2019
Great novelists need alter egos to rationalize their lives. Updike had Rabbit, Roth had Zuckerman, and Naipaul has Willie Chandran.
This novel, the first of two Willie Chandran books cover鈥檚 the protagonists life until his early forties. It鈥檚 a novel about displacement and the quest to belong. Willie鈥檚 great grandfather left the protection of the temple to seek his life in the big city, a migration that was transformative, for he rose to prominence as a scribe in the employ of the maharajah of his state in India. Willie鈥檚 cowardly father went the other way, from courtier back to the ashram. It is for Willie to step up to the plate and find his place in the world and he ends up as a student in England, just like Naipaul did.
Willie鈥檚 desire to write gets him into bohemian circles in London where his first book of stories from his homeland is published. Yet, Willie is rootless, lacking in social graces and class. He is unable to date a woman and instead sleeps with his male friends鈥� girlfriends, as he already knows them and is able to approach them for larger 鈥渇avours.鈥� He gravitates to prostitutes until he falls in love with Ana, a Portuguese emigr茅. The book then takes a dramatic turn as Willie gives up his blossoming writing career in England to follow Ana to her home, a Portuguese colony in East Africa never mentioned by name, but which I took to be Mozambique.
The second half of the story in Africa is a told one for it is Willie now recounting his 18 years in that continent to his sister Sarojini whom he has returned to in Berlin. This part has a remarkable lack of dialogue. However Naipaul gets to expose the plight of the immigrant in this section. Just as Willie tried his damndest to become an Englishman in England and failed, the locals, who are African, half-breed or Arab, try their best to become Portuguese in his new home, for becoming like the ruling class confers the highest privileges. Naipaul describes the colonial farms run by the Portuguese gentry very well, right from the furniture to the lifestyle, to the side deals they do to amass money. Ana gets the legitimacy to run her farm with Willie as her man of the house, although he is even more rootless than in England, and very soon takes up with prostitutes, again. History repeats when he is rescued from the emotionless whores by falling in lust with Gra岣塧, Ana鈥檚 friend married to a drunk. The existence of this colonial society that was formed after the first world war is at risk due to the encroaching guerilla war, fermented by dissent, foreign support, and inequality. And when the transference of power happens, Willie lives through the breakdown of systems, estate take-overs, scarcities, and the transition to everyone becoming poor. But like much of Africa today, the locals who gain power then start fighting among themselves, snapping Willie鈥檚 last straw, making him flee, not only Africa and Ana, but his own wasted and deprived life. He accuses Ana, 鈥淚鈥檝e been living your life for eighteen years, not mine.鈥� Then why the heck did he go to Africa? That question is never quite answered, although race riots occurred in Notting Hill at the time.
Like I found with the second of the Willie Chandran novels, Magic Seeds, that I read a few years ago, Naipaul seems to be losing his novelistic edge at this point of his career, although this book has a bit more legs to it than the sequel does. He seems to be more interested in exposing the social, political and psychological impacts of immigration via a thinly veiled story, than in the story itself. There were gaps in the narrative in places, for instance I didn鈥檛 know that Willie and Perdita (another of Willie鈥檚 London friend鈥檚 girlfriends) had lit a spark, I didn鈥檛 know he had given one of his prostitutes half a week鈥檚 wages鈥攈ad an eager editor cut these bits out, or had Naipaul forgotten to write them in?
That this is an incomplete novel requiring a sequel is obvious, for Willie is no more resolved at the end than when we first meet him. However, given my disappointment in the sequel, I wondered why Naipaul bothered to create this alter-ego. Naipaul was a far more interesting character in himself, and books like Sir Vidia鈥檚 Shadow do better justice and shed far more light on this enigmatic writer. I think Naipaul would have been well placed to have written about the real world, using his insightful observational and narrative powers to make sense of it for us, rather than to examine his complex life via Willie Chandran.
This novel, the first of two Willie Chandran books cover鈥檚 the protagonists life until his early forties. It鈥檚 a novel about displacement and the quest to belong. Willie鈥檚 great grandfather left the protection of the temple to seek his life in the big city, a migration that was transformative, for he rose to prominence as a scribe in the employ of the maharajah of his state in India. Willie鈥檚 cowardly father went the other way, from courtier back to the ashram. It is for Willie to step up to the plate and find his place in the world and he ends up as a student in England, just like Naipaul did.
Willie鈥檚 desire to write gets him into bohemian circles in London where his first book of stories from his homeland is published. Yet, Willie is rootless, lacking in social graces and class. He is unable to date a woman and instead sleeps with his male friends鈥� girlfriends, as he already knows them and is able to approach them for larger 鈥渇avours.鈥� He gravitates to prostitutes until he falls in love with Ana, a Portuguese emigr茅. The book then takes a dramatic turn as Willie gives up his blossoming writing career in England to follow Ana to her home, a Portuguese colony in East Africa never mentioned by name, but which I took to be Mozambique.
The second half of the story in Africa is a told one for it is Willie now recounting his 18 years in that continent to his sister Sarojini whom he has returned to in Berlin. This part has a remarkable lack of dialogue. However Naipaul gets to expose the plight of the immigrant in this section. Just as Willie tried his damndest to become an Englishman in England and failed, the locals, who are African, half-breed or Arab, try their best to become Portuguese in his new home, for becoming like the ruling class confers the highest privileges. Naipaul describes the colonial farms run by the Portuguese gentry very well, right from the furniture to the lifestyle, to the side deals they do to amass money. Ana gets the legitimacy to run her farm with Willie as her man of the house, although he is even more rootless than in England, and very soon takes up with prostitutes, again. History repeats when he is rescued from the emotionless whores by falling in lust with Gra岣塧, Ana鈥檚 friend married to a drunk. The existence of this colonial society that was formed after the first world war is at risk due to the encroaching guerilla war, fermented by dissent, foreign support, and inequality. And when the transference of power happens, Willie lives through the breakdown of systems, estate take-overs, scarcities, and the transition to everyone becoming poor. But like much of Africa today, the locals who gain power then start fighting among themselves, snapping Willie鈥檚 last straw, making him flee, not only Africa and Ana, but his own wasted and deprived life. He accuses Ana, 鈥淚鈥檝e been living your life for eighteen years, not mine.鈥� Then why the heck did he go to Africa? That question is never quite answered, although race riots occurred in Notting Hill at the time.
Like I found with the second of the Willie Chandran novels, Magic Seeds, that I read a few years ago, Naipaul seems to be losing his novelistic edge at this point of his career, although this book has a bit more legs to it than the sequel does. He seems to be more interested in exposing the social, political and psychological impacts of immigration via a thinly veiled story, than in the story itself. There were gaps in the narrative in places, for instance I didn鈥檛 know that Willie and Perdita (another of Willie鈥檚 London friend鈥檚 girlfriends) had lit a spark, I didn鈥檛 know he had given one of his prostitutes half a week鈥檚 wages鈥攈ad an eager editor cut these bits out, or had Naipaul forgotten to write them in?
That this is an incomplete novel requiring a sequel is obvious, for Willie is no more resolved at the end than when we first meet him. However, given my disappointment in the sequel, I wondered why Naipaul bothered to create this alter-ego. Naipaul was a far more interesting character in himself, and books like Sir Vidia鈥檚 Shadow do better justice and shed far more light on this enigmatic writer. I think Naipaul would have been well placed to have written about the real world, using his insightful observational and narrative powers to make sense of it for us, rather than to examine his complex life via Willie Chandran.
May 21, 2023
Um relato simples, mas interessante que, sem estar 脿 espera, me fez viajar da 脥ndia, para Londres e finalmente para Mo莽ambique colonial portugu锚s.
June 27, 2010
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.
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.
November 25, 2014
Sadly I wasn't impressed.
Well.. I don't really say "Meh" but it is fitting so it will be used here.
**Meh!**
This is the last book to complete my reading challenge for 2014 and I had hoped to finish out with a bang of a book. This is not it. I picked it because I was curious and I also thought it might be a quick read. Quick, yes. Curious? I was at first. I was flying through. Have you ever read that book that is a page turner until maybe the halfway point and then it takes a turn for the worst? For me this was it. It wasn't wonderful to begin with but I was interested enough and then it went south. I went from wanting to read quickly for a speedy finish to skimming and not caring. I feel bad because I wanted to be concerned with this character but after the first half I found him frivolous and boring.
This is supposed to be the story of Willies coming age journey from India, to London, to Africa and then Germany. Again it started a little different. The stint in London I thought was interesting and would go well. Then he went to an undisclosed country in Africa. I didn't get why the name was never mentioned. The time in Africa bored me to tears and I skimmed so many pages. It didn't make sense to me what he was doing there. There was also an awful awful lot about racial stereotypes. Indian, African, Mixed heritage, White.. There was just this unnecessary amount of talk about it. And it ended very strange. I guess one could dissect this book but frankly I'm just glad to have done with it.
2 stars. It could have.. But it didn't. It just fell flat. I might give the author another chance because I was interested in the beginning. I'm not recommending anything I give two stars.
Bad news: ending my challenge with a book I was not impressed with.
Good news: I'm a book junkie. The challenge is over but I'm still about to pick up my next book. I never stop!
Well.. I don't really say "Meh" but it is fitting so it will be used here.
**Meh!**
This is the last book to complete my reading challenge for 2014 and I had hoped to finish out with a bang of a book. This is not it. I picked it because I was curious and I also thought it might be a quick read. Quick, yes. Curious? I was at first. I was flying through. Have you ever read that book that is a page turner until maybe the halfway point and then it takes a turn for the worst? For me this was it. It wasn't wonderful to begin with but I was interested enough and then it went south. I went from wanting to read quickly for a speedy finish to skimming and not caring. I feel bad because I wanted to be concerned with this character but after the first half I found him frivolous and boring.
This is supposed to be the story of Willies coming age journey from India, to London, to Africa and then Germany. Again it started a little different. The stint in London I thought was interesting and would go well. Then he went to an undisclosed country in Africa. I didn't get why the name was never mentioned. The time in Africa bored me to tears and I skimmed so many pages. It didn't make sense to me what he was doing there. There was also an awful awful lot about racial stereotypes. Indian, African, Mixed heritage, White.. There was just this unnecessary amount of talk about it. And it ended very strange. I guess one could dissect this book but frankly I'm just glad to have done with it.
2 stars. It could have.. But it didn't. It just fell flat. I might give the author another chance because I was interested in the beginning. I'm not recommending anything I give two stars.
Bad news: ending my challenge with a book I was not impressed with.
Good news: I'm a book junkie. The challenge is over but I'm still about to pick up my next book. I never stop!
August 15, 2017
What strange, unrelatable story. I enjoyed most other characters except the main one.
I didn't get what it was about? Life? It did make me wonder what it was about, so that's good...right?
Reading other reviews here makes me feel a little better about myself, I'm not that dumb. Apparently there's a sequel. I don't want to know.
Oh, and the writing: It's very, very, blunt. Feels unemotional and distant. It doesn't flow.
Naipaul can be writing about person A on a Monday, switch to person B for about ten sentences and then just change days. Suddenly it's Tuesday. What happened to person A?! Are you allowed to do that?
I feel almost annoyed with this, but I care too little.
I didn't get what it was about? Life? It did make me wonder what it was about, so that's good...right?
Reading other reviews here makes me feel a little better about myself, I'm not that dumb. Apparently there's a sequel. I don't want to know.
Oh, and the writing: It's very, very, blunt. Feels unemotional and distant. It doesn't flow.
Naipaul can be writing about person A on a Monday, switch to person B for about ten sentences and then just change days. Suddenly it's Tuesday. What happened to person A?! Are you allowed to do that?
I feel almost annoyed with this, but I care too little.
April 1, 2012
About 50 pages into this one, I realized I didn't really like it much. Hoping it would get better (after all, it did win a Nobel for literature), I forced myself to plow on. Sadly, it was all but impossible for me to enjoy the story of this insufferably spineless protagonist and his exceptionally uneventful life.
February 1, 2023
I expected this to be better.
August 13, 2020
This novel charting the life and losses of the central character - Willie - tells an interesting and in-depth tale of a young man caught between worlds. It charts a half-life. Born of a Brahmin and low caste mother (who is painfully ridiculed by Willie's father in the first part of the book), Willie spends the novel seeking a way to find himself and - presumably - find a sense of purpose and wholeness he believes his father discarded in favour of a pitiable idleness.
Willie attempts to find himself by seeking a supposed "better life" in London, where he is greeted by an underground party scene of (rather ditsy and ignorant) white British people and those who have emigrated dancing and becoming-with one another. In this heat of freedom Willie meets a girl and runs away with her to Portuguese-run Africa full of scrubland and big, expensive houses.
I liked that the book seemed both believable and ludicrous, that it was not romantic, that the characters were not perfect but deeply flawed and seeking some kind of progression yet standing still (as we all find ourselves doing). I liked that the book showed things to me that I have never encountered - Naipaul is a good writer and this is a good book. But I want to know more about Willie's mother and sister, who became shadows in the text. I wanted Willie to be less unfair to Ana (his wife), to be less lead by lust - but perhaps this is writing that is honest. We can't always get what we want.
Willie discarded his desire to be a writer, although he had promise, because he did not have confidence. Willie was lead by sexual desire, he was cruel to his parents and unforgiving to those who loved him. Perhaps he is simply human.
Willie attempts to find himself by seeking a supposed "better life" in London, where he is greeted by an underground party scene of (rather ditsy and ignorant) white British people and those who have emigrated dancing and becoming-with one another. In this heat of freedom Willie meets a girl and runs away with her to Portuguese-run Africa full of scrubland and big, expensive houses.
I liked that the book seemed both believable and ludicrous, that it was not romantic, that the characters were not perfect but deeply flawed and seeking some kind of progression yet standing still (as we all find ourselves doing). I liked that the book showed things to me that I have never encountered - Naipaul is a good writer and this is a good book. But I want to know more about Willie's mother and sister, who became shadows in the text. I wanted Willie to be less unfair to Ana (his wife), to be less lead by lust - but perhaps this is writing that is honest. We can't always get what we want.
Willie discarded his desire to be a writer, although he had promise, because he did not have confidence. Willie was lead by sexual desire, he was cruel to his parents and unforgiving to those who loved him. Perhaps he is simply human.
October 19, 2017
Quantos de n贸s sentem que viveram uma vida pela metade? Ser茫o muitos os que olham para tr谩s e sentem que os melhores anos das suas vidas foram desperdi莽ados a viver as vidas de outras pessoas, sem terem a coragem de dar o salto de f茅 que lhes daria um leque de novas e infinitas possibilidades? Este 茅 o subtexto desta historia desconcertante: pai e filho em permanente conflito com o que os rodeia e com as tradi莽玫es que espartilham os seus sonhos, numa luta interior constante para conseguir viver as suas pr贸prias vidas.
Para n贸s, portugueses, o interesse da hist贸ria 茅 refor莽ado pelo contexto colonial e pelas constantes refer锚ncias a Portugal e 茫 liga莽茫o do nosso pa铆s a 脕frica e 脿 脥ndia de meados do s茅culo XX. 脡 o primeiro de dois volumes e mal posso esperar para come莽ar a ler a segunda metade destas vidas que ainda v茫o a meio.
Para n贸s, portugueses, o interesse da hist贸ria 茅 refor莽ado pelo contexto colonial e pelas constantes refer锚ncias a Portugal e 茫 liga莽茫o do nosso pa铆s a 脕frica e 脿 脥ndia de meados do s茅culo XX. 脡 o primeiro de dois volumes e mal posso esperar para come莽ar a ler a segunda metade destas vidas que ainda v茫o a meio.
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