A Way in the World: A Novel

A Way in the World: A Novel

V. S. Naipaul

Language: English

Pages: 400

ISBN: 0679761667

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

A Way in the World: A Novel

V. S. Naipaul

Language: English

Pages: 400

ISBN: 0679761667

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


In his long-awaited, vastly innovative new novel, Naipaul, "one of literature's great travelers" (Los Angles Times), spans continents and centuries to create what is at once an autobiography and a fictional archaeology of colonialism. "Dickensian . . . a brilliant new prism through which to view (Naipaul's) life and work."--New York Times.

The Secret Hum of a Daisy

Slammed: A Novel (Slammed, Book 1)

The Thorn and the Blossom: A Two-Sided Love Story

The Blue-Ribbon Jalapeño Society Jubilee (Cadillac, Texas, Book 1)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I left Caracas in 1771 Spain was the centre of the world for me. History, culture, elegance. The United States didn’t exist—the American colonies were poorer than we were—and the French Revolution was twenty years away. I’m ashamed to tell you how much money I spent on clothes in my first month in Cadiz. It was some years before I saw that the ideas I had had about Spain and its position in the world were exaggerated. When I deserted from the Spanish service and went to the United States in

books to the kitchen; he wrote letters. Sometimes in the morning I sent him home for the day, and then a few hours afterwards I wanted to get out. Compound life, with all its privileges, had its complications. The servant and the driver had been found for me by Moses Lubero, who worked as a houseboy for a young English couple some houses away. Lubero was a heavy, slow man with bright, rolling eyes. I sometimes saw him with clothes-pegs in his mouth hanging out baby clothes. Baby clothes! Lubero

six weeks, no more, my book was done. My life in London at last had purpose. And I blessed the name of Foster Morris, this unlikely figure from the past who had set me free. IT WAS four years before that book was published. The publisher required something less unconventional in form first, something more recognizable by the trade as a novel. When the street book was published I sent a copy to Foster Morris, with a letter. I reintroduced myself; told him about his letter, the pain it had caused,

of birth, marriage and death certificates. People who needed these certificates came to the Red House and made an arrangement with one of the freelance searchers who hung about the entrance to the department, near the notice-boards, waiting for customers. These searchers, after they had been given possible dates by their customers, then used stamped forms to requisition various volumes of certificates; the department’s messengers brought out the thick, heavy bound volumes, more wide than high,

but it was painted by a Negro born and bred in Martinique and—you wouldn’t believe—trained as a pastrycook.” “Pastrycook! The things you can get people to do these days!” Bernard began to go down the steps. Miranda (never forgetting, with a remnant of shame, how, thirty-five years ago, eight fanegas, four hundred and fifty pounds, of Venezuelan cocoa had been converted in Cadiz into nothing more than a silk handkerchief and a silk umbrella) noticed how carefully, even with all the rain, the

Download sample

Download