As he swallowed the magical substance, a sense of anticipation filled him. He knew that with this act, he was irrevocably delivering himself over to unseen forces. These forces, mysterious and powerful, would now take charge of his life for the hours to come. The very thought sent shivers down his spine. He wondered what kind of experiences awaited him, what strange and wonderful things he might encounter. Would he be transported to another world, or would his perception of this one be completely altered? There was no turning back now. The die was cast, and he could only wait and see what fate had in store for him as these unseen forces began to work their magic.

The work in question is not nearly as good as "Sheltering Sky".

The characters within it are disappointingly dull, lacking the depth and complexity that would make them truly engaging.

The setting, too, feels inauthentic, failing to create a believable and immersive world for the readers.

Moreover, there is a cynical tone that pervades the entire piece, which can be off-putting and detract from the overall enjoyment.

It seems that the author has not managed to capture the essence and magic that made "Sheltering Sky" such a remarkable work.

Perhaps more effort could have been put into developing the characters and crafting a more convincing setting, as well as toning down the cynicism to create a more positive and engaging reading experience.

As it stands, this work falls short of the high standards set by "Sheltering Sky" and leaves much to be desired.

If you have an inclination towards following the amoral, bored, and spiritually lost colonial minds that wandered the "International Zone" and beyond during the multi-colonial period in Morocco, then this book is an excellent choice to provide you with an understanding of the profound arrogance and white supremacy that accompanied foreigners who exploited the country under the guise of business and/or diplomacy.

The book centers around Dyar, an American who grew tired of his job in a bank and decides to alter the course of his life by boarding the "finding myself in times of colonialism" train. It includes the inevitable scenes of him using a Moroccan prostitute and killing a Moroccan after excessive hashish consumption. By reading Dyar's thoughts, one can only reach the conclusion that in his pursuit of "freedom" away from home, he has no qualms about剥夺他人的自由 to discover new aspects of himself.

I was more intrigued by the Moroccan (or "Arab") characters that Paul Bowles attempts to develop, but then most likely realizes he cannot. While I acknowledge the historical value of Bowles' books, which depict life in Morocco in the 30s, 40s, and 50s through the eyes and minds of foreign "residents" (settlers) and travelers in the country, I equally recognize the limitations of their perspectives. This is because those foreigners regarded Moroccans as less than human, always in the background of their own lives.

I had a difficult time reading through to the end, especially during the descriptions of Dyar's reflections on life, which reminded me of fragments of Eat, Pray, Love.

Once more after finishing "Let It Come Down" by Paul Bowles, I have become vividly aware that some individuals are fated to self-destruction. They hurtle towards it, propelled by their unhappiness and loneliness, by their inability to adapt to the surrounding reality, and by the consuming emptiness within that urges them to keep going. There is no evading this horror of existence. "A certain day, at a certain moment, the house would crumble and nothing would be left but dust and rubble, indistinguishable from the talus of gravel that lay below the cliffs. It would be absolutely silent, the falling of the house, like a film that goes on running after the sound apparatus has broken." Alongside us, time will gradually dissolve, falling to pieces, and nobody would care that once "there were places in time to be visited, faces to forget, words to understand, silences to be studied." Only the inhuman night will endure.

I am not appalled by the end of the novel. I knew I was reading Paul Bowles. I am not repulsed by the protagonist Dyar. Instead, I only feel pity for him and experience an overwhelming fear of the fragile human soul that may shatter at any moment while searching for its place, "a definite status, a precise relationship with the rest of men" in a hostile world that we ourselves are responsible for creating.

I am astounded by how throughout the entire novel, the rain decrypts the forthcoming events. It pours, rains heavily or calmly, it can rain indifferently or trickle in a desultory fashion. It rains lightly, bringing hope with the soft sound of its fall. It presents a watery sky, a wet gray colorless twilight, and at the end of the novel, it produces the dead flat sound that spreads around. The same holds true for the wind, which blows from all directions, transforming from a sweet breeze to a wind that bears the paralyzing promise of winter or a strong malevolent evil that rattles the door.

I believe I have learned one simple truth from Paul Bowles: dreamers cannot be happy. You must have simple, daily achievable goals to feel content just to be alive on a fine sunny morning. However, realizing it is one thing, and attempting to turn off your thoughts is quite another.

I've never read Bowles before, but I picked up this book at a thrift store. The reason was simple: it was cheap, and I have a great interest in early to mid-century Morocco.

The story managed to keep me engaged from start to finish. However, I have to admit that I didn't find the prose to be extremely beautiful. In fact, the rambling existential hashish clouds described in the book were a bit overwhelming for me.

Nonetheless, I still felt that the book was entertaining. It made me deeply reflect on what it truly means to be alive and dead. It also made me think about the essence of feeling something and having a strong desire to build one's own destiny, as opposed to just aimlessly bumbling through life with no clear wants or sense of self, allowing life to simply happen to you.

I can't help but wonder if I'm reading too much into things when I notice that Dyar was always referred to as "dead" by Daisy, and his name was "Dyar," which could be interpreted as "die-r," meaning "one who dies." This aspect added an interesting layer of mystery and depth to the story for me.

The story is more intricately plotted than Sheltering Sky. It is almost like a non-Catholic Graham Greene novel. It is harrowing and pitiless, filled with some rather grim and vicious characters, especially the main one. To say the least, it is not a light and pleasant read. However, it has its redeeming qualities. It is funny at times and is full of beautiful details. There is a sense of tragic loneliness that pervades the narrative, along with moments of breathtaking poetry. I found myself completely engrossed in it from start to finish. I loved every single minute of reading this book. It takes the reader on an emotional rollercoaster, with its complex characters and their dark and often disturbing actions. But despite all that, there are glimmers of hope and beauty that shine through, making it a truly unforgettable reading experience.

Paul Bowles is a writer who pens some really cool books, such as "The Sheltering Sky." However, darn it, he has a rather unfortunate trait of being a misogynist. He has a penchant for creating female characters only to make fun of them. In particular, he likes to depict them as fat and rather comical.

Take the story of a bored 30-something New York bank teller. He has a friend living in Tangiers, Morocco, who owns a travel agency. The teller believes he has a job waiting for him there, working for his friend, but it turns out not to be the kind of job he had envisioned. He is extremely naive and perhaps should have refrained from smoking or indulging in hashish, as not everyone can handle drugs.

Nelson Dyar is truly a despicable character, as witnessed by his youthful exploits. He would go out with friends, each accompanied by a girl. They would have cocktails at a girl's apartment, catch a Broadway movie, and then dine at a nearby Chinese place with dancing. Afterward, the long process of taking the girls home one by one would commence, followed by a heavy drinking session in a bar. Sometimes, though not often, they would pick up a cheap woman in the bar or on the street and take her to Bill Healy's room to have sex with her in turn. This clearly shows the author's misogynistic tendencies.

In Tangiers, Dyar meets Daisy Valverde, a marquessa. She is actually a good and friendly woman who even tries to save Dyar's life in the end. However, he refuses to listen. He discovers from her that his "friend" Jack, who owns the travel agency, has no means of paying him as an employee. Despite Daisy being the only one kind to him and attempting to tell him the truth about Jack Winston, the author still insists on portraying Dyar as a misogynistic jerk. He constantly judges Daisy based on her age, comparing her unfavorably to a 16-year-old sex worker.

Eunice Goode is an American living in Tangiers who has money and is competing with Dyar for the affection of Hadija. She views Dyar unfavorably, thinking he is not attractive and has a certain type of male charm that can lead girls astray. She wishes she had the talent and cognition to handle men like him when she was younger, before she ended up hating them for using her.

Daisy Valverde also shares the story of how she met her husband, the marquis Luis. He is a womanizer, but that seems to be okay when you have money. She was over 30 at the time, with a radiant and statuesque beauty. It was inevitable that Luis would fall in love with her, marry her, and then eventually lose interest. However, Daisy knew this beforehand and didn't care, as she was more concerned with keeping him. It's a pity that the character of Dyar didn't pay more attention to his one true friend, Daisy.

Likely the most pathetic character ever evolved in a story is Nelson Dyar. He is a milquetoast, feeling that his life is a big zero. So, he heads to Tangier in the post-war International Zone in search of a new start. There, he meets Bowles-colorful characters. This author has a distinct style. Slowly, Nelson begins to sink into the morass. His aimlessness, along with the effects of potent majoun (hash), leads to a surprising ending. This is the second Paul Bowles book I've read, and it is similar in its great character sketches. The characters are dark and seamy. They encounter their dark sides while living on the fringes of Tangier/Morocco "in the day." The story unfolds in a way that keeps the reader engaged, curious to see what will happen next to these complex and troubled characters.

I had previously read the author's work "A Hundred Camels in the Courtyard" which consists of four short stories. I read texts that carry the atmosphere of exotic places, especially novels, with excitement. Paul Bowles lived in Morocco for many years - 53 years of his 89-year life - and spent his last years there as well. Therefore, he is an author who knows the country's traditions, culture, the habits of the locals and their reactions to events very well and successfully reflects them in his works.

This novel also has a psychological tension with a Moroccan background. The hero, who is experiencing an existential crisis, breaks away from the environment where he sees himself as a 'convict' and a 'victim', and after making a sudden decision that he can accept as completely out of the ordinary according to himself and wants to make a new beginning in a place he perceives as out of the ordinary, his state of mind of 'Here I am and something will happen soon.' (p. 158, 205) and his letting himself go with the flow of random events and the changes they cause in his psychology are dealt with in the novel in a detailed and profound narrative. I followed everything with curiosity. I felt a bit of the spirit of the Gobi Desert.

Paul Bowles is an author whom I like very much in every respect with the themes, heroes, atmosphere, language and plot of the novels he has written. I also liked this novel very much.

"... he still felt as if he were empty inside; he was standing in the middle of a country that was no one and nothing. This place was desolate, a waiting room between connections, a passage from one way of being to another and this place couldn't see either direction for now, couldn't see any place at all....", p. 174.

This was my second reading. The first reading had occurred well over a decade ago. If anything, it seemed even more nihilistic than the last time.

The story is set in an exotic locale, which adds an element of mystery and allure. However, this exoticism also serves to heighten the feeling of dislocation that the main character experiences.

As the story progresses, we see the main character gradually lose even the most basic shreds of humanity. This unmooring is rendered with great clarity and precision by the author, who manages to make us feel the character's descent into nihilism.

Interestingly, the author also injects a bit of comedy into the story. This comedy, however, only serves to make the ending even more horrific. It is as if the author is using the comedy to lull us into a false sense of security, only to hit us with a powerful and disturbing ending.

Overall, this second reading of the story left me with a profound sense of unease and a newfound appreciation for the author's skill in creating a truly nihilistic and disturbing work of literature.

The book is truly excellent.

The protagonist is simply charming, and the other characters are each more eccentric than the last.

However, towards the end, it really lost me.

It becomes extremely heavy in parts.

Although it closes well, it's almost, but not quite, a five-star read.

Overall, it's a great book with a few flaws that prevent it from being perfect.

Nonetheless, I would still highly recommend it to others who enjoy this genre.

Maybe they will have a different experience and rate it even higher.

It's always interesting to see how different people perceive the same book.

The Sheltering Sky is a novel that often leaves readers with a sense of uninspired derivation.

It seems to follow a somewhat predictable path, lacking the spark of true innovation.

The story unfolds in a way that feels overly familiar, as if it has borrowed too heavily from other works in the genre.

The characters, too, lack depth and complexity, failing to truly engage the reader on an emotional level.

While the setting may be vividly described, it cannot compensate for the overall lack of originality in the plot and character development.

As a result, The Sheltering Sky comes across as a derivative work that fails to make a lasting impression.

It is a disappointment for those who were hoping for a fresh and exciting literary experience.

Perhaps with a bit more creativity and a willingness to break free from the constraints of convention, this novel could have been a truly remarkable piece of literature.

As it stands, however, it remains a somewhat uninspired and forgettable work.